by the pricking of my thumbs

[1:42pm] Seth > Kam: It's Christmas, Kamala. You should be with your family.

[1:47pm] Kam > Seth: I'm with them now. That's why I want to meet up lol. I'm at their campus house, could meet up at the Sjoberg Room?

[1:47pm] Seth > Kam: I'll be there in 20 mins.

One of the few benefits of CODA life was being able to sneak out with relative ease. All Kam had to do was pull on her boots, get her coat from the mudroom, and head outside when her parents were buried in their books, already wine drunk.

Her nose was pink from the cold air by the time she made it to the Sjoberg Room, her favourite lecture hall on the campus her parents taught at. When she opened the heavy wooden double doors to enter the room, Seth was already sitting on the table at its centre.

"Happy Christmas." She smiled at them, eyes widening at their apparent Christmas gift. A feast of fried chicken, fries and milkshakes. Perfect.

At first, the pair sat around the table for their Christmas dinner, catching up on how the other had been, how Kamala was finding her winter break (her last as a sixth form student!), how Seth was managing on their own. Eventually, the conversation shifted.

Kam had one hand clutching a chocolate milkshake, which she sipped while twirling the stick of chalk in her other hand. She studied the spellwork she'd written up on the board, then chewed on the straw thoughtfully.

"See what I mean?" She turned to Seth, raising her brows. "If we can utilise magic itself to produce results, and Oz can harvest that magic, which Rue converts to energy, and I alter its state, to turn it into an object... That's something out of nothing. You said that can't be done, but it can. See?"

She gestured to the board again, then offered the chalk across to her friend.

Indeed, Kam’s entire countenance changed while she was engrossed in her research and ideas—like she could truly allow herself to charge up to full voltage, unself-conscious of her own capability when it was just her and Seth and the gears of her brain were spinning. 

It reminded Seth of—well. Of Seth themself, when they were younger and less jaded about the world and all its possibilities. 

“That is what they teach at the Institutions of Magical Patriarchy, yes…” Seth confirmed wryly, shifting their gaze to the complex lines of calculus and physics diagrams that filled up the width of the chalkboard. “…the wand wix call it Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration.” Their eyes parsed over Kam’s work methodically as they mentally checked her math, scanning for errors and oversights like they would lines of code. They could find none—all of the math was sound.

Bemused, intrigued, and undeniably impressed, Seth rose from their seat and drifted toward the board to read through it all again. “I daresay you’re onto something, here…have you shown this to any of the Hogwash Snobs at the safehouse? Nate…Xiomara?” Seth said this with a tone that held no real malice toward the classically trained magicians—it was something of an inside joke, at this point, the harmless in-house rivalry between FTB’s wand-users and the die-hard circuit hedges. And with two of her siblings at Hogwarts, one that Seth knew Kamala would understand and appreciate.

They took the offered chalk from Kam’s outstretched hand and studied the board for a moment before tapping it against one especially fascinating section of integral variables and formulae. “Talk me through this part, again—what exactly happened, with the Irish hedge?” Seth had never encountered a true Siphon, before; the man certainly didn’t act like he possessed such a formidable discipline. And he must have been hiding one hell of a power designation star, somewhere not easily visible.

She was just up to Rue's intervention, when Seth handed her their phone. The hedge witch smirked at Seth's instant reply, before going in to read the message prior. She frowned, offering the phone back, "I don't get why he says 'my cousin' and assumes we all just immediately know what's going on," Kamala admitted, "I mean, yeah, obviously we'll help with family stuff but like, we're not all inside your head, Nate!"

The pair took photos of the board, then gathered up their rubbish to put in the bin, before heading out of the lecture hall. Kam was scrolling through her phone to get an Uber when Seth held up their car keys, raising a brow.

"I didn't know you drove." Kamala said, genuinely surprised. While not as out of touch as say, Xiomara, the wix at the safe house regarded non-magical people and things with varying degrees of understanding.

"I don't." They responded, as the car drove up to meet them, both front doors opening. She looked puzzled, mouth half opened, until Seth slid into the driver's seat and she saw the screens on the dashboard pulse twice. Seth mumbled something, as if in response. Oh.

---

The Putney house was in much better state than Kamala had described it to Seth. Xiomara had done a lot of work to it since the fight- or, she'd charmed some contractors into doing it for them, at least. The living room, where every single longer-term member of Free Trader Beowulf had gathered, was cramped, but better furnished, tastefully decorated, and smelled faintly of cinnamon.

They were already in heated discussion when Seth and Kamala entered- Seth, of course, moved closer to the centre of the room, while Kamala found her place closer to the window, leaning against its frame.

A few members brought Seth up to speed, and Kam listened intently. Unless she was missing something in the story, which she almost certainly was, Kam was incredibly confused why no one had picked up on the answer yet. She stayed quiet another few minutes, looking between the wix, as if waiting for someone to suggest it. No one did.

Kamala half-raised her hand, and when no one called on her, she spoke, "Has no one contacted the Library? I mean, to me it's pretty obvious, they've got-"

"Kamala, why are you here?" Xiomara's voice was the one to respond to her, and suddenly every set of eyes in the room were on the teen.

Kam swallowed, "I just thought that.... You know, they've got a bri-"

"It's Christmas. Your family are going to file a fucking missing person's report. Go home," She instructed, in a tone that none of the hedges would think to talk back to her. Kam opened her mouth to retort, but the French woman raised her brows, repeating, "Go."

[1:42pm] Seth > Kam: It's Christmas, Kamala. You should be with your family.

[1:47pm] Kam > Seth: I'm with them now. That's why I want to meet up lol. I'm at their campus house, could meet up at the Sjoberg Room?

[1:47pm] Seth > Kam: I'll be there in 20 mins.

One of the few benefits of CODA life was being able to sneak out with relative ease. All Kam had to do was pull on her boots, get her coat from the mudroom, and head outside when her parents were buried in their books, already wine drunk.

Her nose was pink from the cold air by the time she made it to the Sjoberg Room, her favourite lecture hall on the campus her parents taught at. When she opened the heavy wooden double doors to enter the room, Seth was already sitting on the table at its centre.

"Happy Christmas." She smiled at them, eyes widening at their apparent Christmas gift. A feast of fried chicken, fries and milkshakes. Perfect.

At first, the pair sat around the table for their Christmas dinner, catching up on how the other had been, how Kamala was finding her winter break (her last as a sixth form student!), how Seth was managing on their own. Eventually, the conversation shifted.

Kam had one hand clutching a chocolate milkshake, which she sipped while twirling the stick of chalk in her other hand. She studied the spellwork she'd written up on the board, then chewed on the straw thoughtfully.

"See what I mean?" She turned to Seth, raising her brows. "If we can utilise magic itself to produce results, and Oz can harvest that magic, which Rue converts to energy, and I alter its state, to turn it into an object... That's something out of nothing. You said that can't be done, but it can. See?"

She gestured to the board again, then offered the chalk across to her friend.

kamala rivers, 17, sixth form student.

studying biology, physics, maths, and health science at her local sixth form college. the only rivers child born with full hearing. plays field hockey. assumed squib- actual hedge witch, beginning to show promise in cell manipulation, though at this point in time the ftb safehouse are teaching her basic magic. 

kyrie rivers, 17. 7th year ravenclaw, auror work-study program. 

interests in alchemy, potion-making and dark magic- started as an idle curiosity, became a genuine hunger for power. charming, intense, disarming. profoundly deaf and profoundly proud of it. maybe autistic. 

kalani rivers, 17. 7th year ravenclaw. enjoying summer break while it lasts.

Kamala admired the witch’s stars, counting them, “That is so cool,” She breathed, genuine awe radiating from her features. And when her shoulder was covered up again, and the witch was explaining her discipline, Kam was even more impressed, “Like, a lie detector? Are you kidding, that’s awesome.”

“No, I don’t have mine yet. Seth said you have to earn them. Which is hard, because they also said I have to go to school, and have to study if I want them to teach me, but if I wanna earn my stars, I’ve got to be here…” She shook her head with a very dramatic sigh, clearly disappointed. “My siblings go to Hogwarts, do you know it? The school? Anyway, they got a letter and I didn’t, but I knew I could do magic. I hadn’t done it before, I just kind of… Knew, you know? So I was in a bookshop doing some research, and I ran into a few of the Free Traders, and they let me know where to find this place.”

She remembered the day she’d shown up on their doorstep, while Seth, Rue and Nate insisted that she show magic to be allowed entry. Kam understood it better now, that magic worked best under pressure, but at the time, it had been devastating. 

Kam smiled, shaking the witch’s hand, “Kamala- Kam, if you want. And yeah, I love it here. I’m so glad it’s holidays, because my parents go on holiday, and I can spend as much time here as I want.”

Theo smiled in a way she hoped didn’t look sad; such willing and genuine optimism about this life, from someone so young and impressionable. It made Theo ache.

But her ears did prick up at the mention of Seth—the hedge Theo had originally come here to speak to, Max’s former informant. Kindly, Theo said, “If it makes you feel any better, I was in and out of safehouses for years before I was given a star. And there’s no rush, you know?” Which was the truth, even the statement was missing most of the pertinent information. She shook Kamala’s hand, and then added with careful nonchalance, “…I was kind of hoping to find Seth here, actually—they’re a friend-of-a-friend, and I’m in town for the holidays, and…you wouldn’t happen to know where I might catch up with them, do you?”

Theo took a moment to study the bright-eyed brunette before her. There was nothing about Kamala’s words or demeanor that inherently set off alarm bells for Theo—but it was so hard to tell, with hedges, just how brainwashed into complacency she was, without doing a proper probe into the girl’s mind, which would surely be too risky to attempt at this moment.

Still, Theo had to leave her with some sort of lifeline, should she ever need it. A friend, an ally to reach out to if she found herself in too deep and unable to get out, in need of outside intervention—the very thing that had saved Theo, when she was Kam’s age.

Keeping her tone pointedly casual, Theo said, “The blonde one said you’re doing exams…are you thinking of applying to university?” As she spoke, she grabbed a sticky note and a pen from the kitchen counter and wrote down her name and phone number. “…I did an amazing program, at a school near Niagara Falls—I’ve actually got my masters, too, and PhD—if you ever want to talk about applications, or your options, or—anything, really, just—give me a call and I’d be glad to give you some tips—”

“Kam, don’t you have some studying or something you should be doing?” said the gruff, unenthusiastic voice of a tall man who had trudged into the room and was eyeing the pair of them.

Kamala gave a sort of squeaky answer and tucked Theo’s number—thank god—into her pocket before fleeing the kitchen.

And then Theo looked up at the person who’d rudely interrupted her in the middle of an important conversation, and—holy fucking shit—she was staring at Nathaniel Pinnock.

His hair was wet and pushed back from his recognizable features, like he’d just taken a shower. There were dark purple creases under his hazel eyes, and he smelled like the inside of a distillery. Theo hadn’t seen him in person in years—over a decade, it must have been?—but there was no mistaking him, even if he wasn’t, like, very fucking famous.

Her eyes widened in surprise and Theo froze, certain that her cover of being an anonymous hedge witch was about to be blown. Nate and Harriet Pinnock would have been, what—eight years old, when Theo had been returned home? And she’d gone off to Waheela shortly after, not to have much contact with the maternal cousins of Theo’s adopted siblings—her cousins, really, for all intents and purposes.

But they were family, for lack of a better word—they had met before, albeit barely, way back in another lifetime—

Nathaniel Pinnock just blinked down at her, bleary and blank and thoroughly unimpressed. “…and who the fuck are you, again?”

Theo’s pulse skipped and stuttered back to life in relief; he didn’t remember her. “Theo…” she blurted out with slightly too much avidity, and Nate gave a hungover wince like she’d tapped him straight between the eyes. Theo’s name wasn’t bound to reveal her, either—if he remembered her at all, it would be as Althea Goldstein, the ill-fitting identity that Theo had fleetingly tried back on, upon her return to the States, way back when, before reverting to a more comfortable one in college. “…I’m—”

Theo’s phone chimed, and Nate leaned his weight against the counter with a low groan, looking again like any noise above a certain frequency was rattling his entire skull. Theo glanced at the screen—it was work, and it was urgent. A shame, since she wasn’t nearly finished here, but perhaps it was for the best; the unexpected appearance of her sort-of cousin had caught her off guard. Theo would be more prepared when she came knocking, next time.

“—I would love to stay and chat, but—I’ve gotta run, actually, so—see you around!” Then she drained the now-cold coffee in her mug and set it in the sink before breezing her way past Nathaniel Pinnock and out the door.

And Nate, who’d been tasked by his tempestuous girlfriend with getting rid of the newcomer—at least until a less indecent hour, Jesus fucking Christ—just stared into the sudden vacuum with groggy obtuseness and muttered to himself, “Well…that was a freebie,” before dragging himself back up the stairs to collapse into bed for at least a few more hours.

Theo’s mind was racing as she walked up the suburban sidewalk, lined with trees in little boxes. Pieces rearranged themselves inside her mind, slotting together and lighting up with each new revelation. Theo had come here to inquire about the Daughters’ mark, Dona Outterridge—when she’d read that name on Max’s report, Theo had of course taken note of the surname; it was the maiden name of Theo’s aunt—her adoptive mother—Addison Goldstein neé Outterridge. But Theo had had no reason to believe it was any relation; this was the U.K., after all, and even names that had branched off from related ancient ancestry could become ubiquitous. Purely coincidental, most likely.

But if this Dona Outterridge had ties to the Pinnocks, the blood of Theo’s own blood, then this was no mere coincidence—this shit was fate.

Theo was tingling as she dialed a contact on her phone and listened to it ring.

“Althea?” said a woman’s voice with mild alarm on the other end of the line; it would have been hours earlier, still, back in New York. “Is everything all right?”