***
Constable and Lady Burnout timed their visit to House Applesmile for after dinner that night. They arrived just as Pinecone and Shellbutton finished drying the dishes.
“Good evening. We’d like a word with Lady Goldenrod,” said Constable.
“That’s fine,” said Mistress Tightseam. “We were going to take a shift at the hospital tonight.” She and her husband excused themselves.
Pernach said he needed to check on the charcoal burn. Redinkle offered to help light fires. Pinecone and Shellbutton followed without providing excuses.
Goldenrod waved to the seats across from her. “Please, join us.”
Newman sat beside her like a stone, silent and not moving without the application of force.
“This isn’t anything formal,” said Lady Burnout. “We’re just chatting with those who’ve displayed magical abilities. Hopefully we can learn something about how they work.”
“So this is about me offing those orcs.”
Constable said, “We’re very glad you could stop them,” in a reassuring tone.
“What have you heard?”
“Many rumors, mostly contradictory,” said the retired cop. “We’d like to hear your own description of what happened.”
“We were right here. Orcs were coming over the wall. Newman was shooting at them. One had three arrows in it and kept coming. I was scared and angry so I yelled at it. It fell down.”
“Do you remember your exact words?” asked Constable.
“Yes, but I’m avoiding saying that word.”
“That’s a perfectly reasonable precaution. Would it be safe to spell it?”
Goldenrod hesitated. “I guess so. I said, ‘Why won’t you D-I-E.’ It fell down. And . . . I didn’t just know it had from the falling down, I could feel, somehow, that it was D-E-A-D.”
Lady Burnout said, “There’s others feeling stuff like that. Sparrow can sense if a battery is charged. I can detect bleeding, even internally.”
“Redinkle says she can feel where fires are in the charcoal mounds,” added Goldenrod.
“What happened after the first one?” asked Constable.
“Newman was shooting more. They were coming faster than he could shoot. So I said it again. Said it shorter. Just saying the one word worked. I tried just thinking it but nothing happened.”
“There’s rumors you passed out.”
“Not at first. Each time I did it—it didn’t take an effort to say it, but the first few times I felt one D-I-E it was like I’d picked up something too heavy to carry. Tiring.”
She put her hand on her boyfriend’s arm. “Newman had to carry me to the Wolfhead encampment so we could help with that fight. Then it was harder, like each time I said it I was punched in the stomach.”
Newman sat up in alarm.
“Not too painful. I kept myself awake until it was over. Then—I can’t really say if I passed out or just fell asleep.”
“Looked like passing out to me,” said Newman.
“When I woke up the battle was over,” Goldenrod finished. “I’m still sore.” She stroked from sternum to bellybutton to show where the pain was.
Constable asked, “Have you tried to use this power on a human or animal?”
“No!”
“Have you said anything else that happened to come true?”
Goldenrod thought a moment. “When we arrived Mistress Seamchecker took us out to look for edible plants. Someone thought it was hopeless so I gave her a pep talk. Right after that I found the first vineroot.”
“There’s another time,” said Lady Burnout. “When you brought Redinkle in with her hands burned you told her she’d be fine. I didn’t want to argue in front of the patient but I figured she’d get back to fifty percent use of her hands at best. Instead she doesn’t even seem to have scars. Your magic is the best explanation I can think of.”
“Wow,” said Goldenrod. “I didn’t realize I could do that. It’s—wow.”
“I hesitate to ask you to help directly. We could easily get into a monkey’s paw situation. But if there’s a critical situation, would you . . .?
“Of course. But I think I shouldn’t use this for anything non-critical.”
“I disagree,” said Constable. “Abilities need practice to develop strength and control. You need to exercise this talent so you know the costs and limitations.”
“You mean I should follow through with it?”
“Exactly.”
“I will.”
Lady Burnout stood. “Thank you for being willing to discuss this. Please let us know if you discover anything interesting.”
“Certainly.”
The investigators strolled off.
It was Goldenrod’s first private moment with Newman since the battle. “Does it bother you that I can do . . . that?”
He smiled. “I always thought you were magical.”
She poked him in the ribs. “Seriously.”
“I am being serious. You can say something and an orc dies. I worked with guys who’d talk into a radio and blow up a building. Or a town. Yours is magic. Well—we’re here.”
Goldenrod shivered.
“Want a hug?” he asked.
“Yes.” She leaned into his arms.
“Come on. I could use a cuddle too.”
Newman led her into the pavilion. Their zipped-together sleeping bags were in a corner, open to air out. A moment sufficed to shed shoes and outer layers.
He laid down on his back. Goldenrod lay over him, head on his chest. His arms went around her, firm, not squeezing. They breathed together for a while.
“I had a horrible thought,” said Goldenrod.
“Oh?”
“When we realized what Belladonna did to us we chased her into the woods.”
“I remember.”
“Later we found out she’d been caught by some orcs and raped. That left her with a parasite that ate her alive from the inside.”
When she didn’t continue Newman said, “Yes.”
“I said ‘I hope the worst thing ever happens to you.’”
Goldenrod’s calm tone now didn’t match his memory of the words. They’d been filled with rage. She’d hurled them like a weapon after Belladonna.
“I think I got my wish.”
She went
