According to Izzy, discussions among the mascots had stalled for the time being. He and some of the other mascots who had once been part of that “upper clique,” like Rika’s partner Lumi, had spoken out against the idea of asking anything particular from Adah. Enough of them had voiced their opposition that the mascots as a whole had agreed to table the issue for now. As goofy as he seemed from Adah’s perspective, clearly Izzy held some sway in his own society.

  Of course, the discussion wouldn’t be tabled forever. Izzy warned her that other mascots would continue keeping their eyes on her, too, watching what her scythe was capable of. At Lina’s studio, she had thought it was only natural that everyone’s eyes should be glued to Heartbreak, but this wasn’t exactly what she had meant.

  In any case, she wouldn’t let that attention influence her actions. She had a plan, and she intended to stick to it. If the mascots did come back with a request for her, she’d treat it like any other request. Was it in her best interest to cooperate? Did the mascots have a wicked or cruel motive for requesting her help? What did she stand to gain? Those were the questions she’d have to ask herself.

  Though, if Izzy’s story was true, then she knew the answers to those questions already.

  “In the end,” Izzy said to her, “they cannot force you to do anything. They find you interesting, but you are not the first human they have taken an interest in. Neither will you be the last.”

  “They can’t force me,” Adah said, “but would they threaten me? Would they try to take my magic away if I don’t cooperate? Would they do something to you in an attempt to coerce me?”

  “It is unlikely,” he said. “Such actions, if discovered, would sabotage our relationship and trust with humanity. We are allies, fighting a battle against an enemy that threatens the survival of both our races. My fellows have not forgotten that is the most important issue at hand, even if they sometimes require a reminder of that fact.”

  Izzy convincing the other mascots to put aside the discussion of Adah’s scythe for now gave her some hope that he might be right. Even so, she had her doubts. Every day, she discovered more ways that mascots, Cruelties, and humans were similar.

  “Tell me now, Izzy,” she said. “Is there anything else the mascots—especially this upper clique—have hidden from me and other humans? Anything else like the portals and the humanoid Cruelties? If there is, I need to know now.”

  Izzy shook his head and looked straight into Adah’s eyes.

  “The only details that have not been explained to you are those that are no secret,” he said. “The engineering behind the Magiapp, Magedars, and other such technologies. Though, I know those explanations would only bore you, and I am worried I may have stretched your attention span too thin already.”

  “If you can make bad jokes like that, then it must be true,” Adah said. “But I’m starting to think I’ll need to learn more about magic tech eventually. I don’t think there’s anything I can take for granted in this industry.”

  Izzy nodded in agreement, then said, “There is one other mystery, but it is a mystery even to me. There is the question of what those of my kind who desire humanity’s ability would do if they acquired it.”

  “That’s something else we have in common,” Adah said. “There’s nothing more human than wanting something and not knowing what to do once you’ve got it.”

  “Something to think about, is it not?”

  He looked at her, but said nothing more. After a moment, he floated into the air and gave a little bow of his head.

  “If any more questions cross your mind, you know where to find me,” he said. “For now, please enjoy a good rest.”

  “And you as well,” Adah said, giving a curtsy with an invisible skirt laid over her lap.

  With that, Izzy dematerialized once more.

  Once Izzy returned to the mascot’s plane, Adah let herself fall back onto her pillow. She closed her eyes, and a feeling of relief spread from her temples to the back of her head. Sleep was almost within reach, just a short silence away, but she couldn’t quiet her brain. Her thoughts ran wild. They probably would have even if she hadn’t stopped to talk with Izzy. She had too much to think about.

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  Her plan had grown new heads as quickly as the hydra had. Every new opportunity and conflict had added a new, branching path to her process. An idea like “get popular and powerful enough to destroy the Cruelties” was only simple until you went to actually do it.

  On top of the complexity of it all, so many pieces of her plan had gotten stalled or interrupted.

  Her team’s first B-Rank mission had gotten derailed by DreamRise rushing ahead for the hydra. From that, Ekki had been taken out of commission, and the workload on the Last Light’s shoulders had exploded. Adah had found a workaround by convincing Thibault to reverse his rule about outsider agencies, but even that was a half-measure that would inevitably slow down the progress of other teams in Region 4. Not to mention, it still didn’t address the real fallout from the hydra fight. Ekki had yet to wake up.

  Her progress with Thibault himself was also stuck in limbo. She’d love to drag him out of his office right now and have him admit his mistakes in front of the whole world, but too many other pieces had yet to fall into place. First, she needed to learn more about whoever was backing Thibault. There would be no point in knocking him down if his replacement was just more of the same. To ensure he was replaced by someone who actually understood the threats facing humanity, Adah needed to gain power that could rival Thibault’s backers.

  To do that, she’d need to position herself—or at least her team—as the true leader of magic in this region. She had no political connections, so her best shot at affecting change was a show of power. To a magical girl, popularity was power. If enough fans and magic users were willing to stand behind Adah, they could apply enough pressure to influence who was nominated as the next Secretary of Magic.

  But how to get that power?

  The iron was hot—Adah just needed to strike at the right point.

  She wasn’t interested in waiting, in stalling out. She wanted the attacker’s advantage.

  Everything needed to start with her own team. They were ready to take on a B-Rank properly, and the world was ready for them as well. A successful mission, with none of the mistakes of the hydra fight, would establish the Last Light as the clear peak of Region 4’s magical girls. It would also spit straight in Thibault’s face in a way everyone could see: Look what we’re capable of when you don’t meddle in our plans.

  A clean and cool execution of a B-Rank mission would help the twins catch up to Adah and Rika’s FP levels, too. It would be a spotlight directly on their team, with no drama and no casualties. An inspiring fight that would sway public opinion and set the political chess board up in the Last Light’s favor.

  That had to happen soon, before Thibault or his backers could make another move.

  “So much for sleeping,” Adah whispered to herself.

  Her mind was already racing, thinking through all the B-Rank Cruelties she knew about and how her team could handle them.

  She didn’t feel quite as restless as she had a month ago, when she had spent so many nights pacing around the agency lobby and plotting her next move on the whiteboard while her teammates slept. Yet, she had learned enough to know that she couldn’t sit still and wait for opportunities to fall into her lap either. Especially now that there were people like Thibault who would want to see her fail, she needed to be thinking ahead at all times.

  Adah needed to know what her next ten steps were, and how they’d all come together to achieve what she wanted. If she flew by the seat of her pants, she’d be met with an elbow to the face. Iris had taught her that in a way she’d never forget.

  So, was her brain keeping her up tonight because it knew she had yet to sort through all the details of her plan? Were there gaps ripe for her opponents to exploit? Opportunities she’d missed that were just waiting for her to capitalize on?

  Or was this just a habit she had drilled into herself? Had she conditioned her body and mind to be this restless? Growing up, she had always slept soundly after a day well spent. Nowadays, it seemed like she needed a blueprint for how she planned to spend the next month before her brain would shut down. The get-together with Apex Vox had shown her that she even needed to put effort into relaxing lately. Wasn’t relaxation supposed to come naturally?

  She had changed—that much was for certain—but she was only just getting started.

  “Let’s make a deal,” she whispered again. Even she didn’t know who she was talking to. Herself? Her mind? Heartbreak?

  For tonight, she’d let herself rest.

  Tomorrow, she would talk with her team. That would give a concrete outline to her next steps. Once they were all on board, then the plan became real. The four of them could think through all of the details together. They were a team, after all.

  As for what Adah could do on her own…

  She rolled onto her stomach and looked at the national map pinned to her wall. Her eyes ran across the little trees that denoted the Brume Forest, eventually settling on a spot near one of the thumbtacks she had stuck into the map.

  There was someone who could give her the advice she needed. Someone experienced in working outside the boundaries of what the Department of Magic wanted. Adah just needed to find the time to meet with her. Witches live in such isolated places.

  In the meantime, there was one other step she could take right away, as early as tomorrow morning. It was something she should’ve done sooner, though she wasn’t sure if someone else would agree.

  Adah owed Ekki a visit.