The sense of a mild disturbance, though, grew. I wasn’t sure what to do with or about it, for now, so I ignored it.

I’d keep an eye on her and if she turned out to have some kind of talent, maybe I could refer her to somebody who could help her with it. That, I reckoned, was about all I could do. I knew for sure that she wasn’t like me, and even if she had been, Thruor would be more of a help than I would.

I still had days when I felt like I didn’t know anything at all and didn’t want to. I still had days when I felt like, basically, an infant. But that was the way things were, and I was, after all, just a kid.
Thruor gave off that air of being older and wiser and still young and fresh. It was probably what Mike saw in her.

Probably. I hadn’t asked, mostly because I didn’t want to know. This, though, was a subtle twirling, tendrils focusing around the school, reaching out. Like a spider’s web, and I was pretty sure Clara was the spider. Knowing or unknowing.

I’d prefer knowing. Unknowing was likely to lead to a serious mess. If she knew what she was doing, I had a reasonably decent chance of convincing her to stop. If she didn’t, I’d have to contact Bruce and find a witch to train her.

And that would take longer and be much more dangerous. Studies being pointless? If she was suicidal, that would make things all the worse.

If she thought she could make a living off of magic…well, maybe she could. Run a store like Bruce’s. Pick up a few business skills, easy enough, and those who knew would know she had a few spells up her sleeve.

I honestly hoped it was that, but I didn’t think so. I sensed something from her that…that I didn’t like at all.

I didn’t need this on top of the shaky truce with the cult, on top of whatever Surtur might plan once the weather warmed up.

I didn’t need any of it, to be honest. The weather was such that I wanted to curl up in a corner with hot chocolate until spring. Maybe that was all Clara felt. The winter was just…closing in like a trap, much colder than normal.

I was starting to feel a certain amount of guilt. I wasn’t doing it, but how did I know I wasn’t attracting it somehow? I didn’t, was the truth.

Clara wasn’t. She was just making ripples, little mini waves in the ether, as it were. The more I thought about it, the more I thought it might indeed be untrained talent combined with depression.

So. I needed to talk to Bruce, but I didn’t want to bring anything down on him. Asking Kanesha to go would be just as bad as going myself, though, so I steeled myself and made the evening trek to Old Town.

It was cold, but the various restaurants and stores showed inviting warmth. I shook the snow off my boots as I stepped into the magic store.

Bruce wasn’t there. A young woman was behind the counter. Older than me, but definitely not old. “Can I help you?”

“Looking for Bruce.”

“He went to get more hot chocolate.” I felt an inner relief that he was only on a mundane errand, a feeling that it could have been much worse. “I can wait.”

While I did so, I looked at the deity statues, but there weren’t any good ones of Odin or Loki. Most of them seemed to be goddesses, not gods.

That seemed to me to be a bit of an oversight.