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As much as the mortals feared our existence, a small subset chose to mock us. There was a single night of each year—called Halloween—where they would dress up as anything they wanted, including us. The results were disturbing, though some disguised themselves so well it would fool a witch.
The trunks stored behind the Auditorium stage were made of oak, held together by steel bolts.
Thessa smiled in relief. The last two trunks had contained nothing useful. She reached in, her body was halfway inside, and dug through.
Soon, scarlet fabric flew. One set, then two.
“Start folding, neatly,” Thessa called over her shoulder to Leora, who was standing behind her collecting the red projectiles.“I knew we had them, the Theater Department reenacts the UnResting every Winter Solstice, it’s barbaric.”
Thessa hopped out of the trunk and closed it. When both sets were folded, they each tucked one inside of their cloak.
Thessa eyed Leora and said, “Let’s get out of here,” and headed toward the Auditorium exit.
After crossing the greens and nearing the front gates, Thessa unsheathed the dagger from her boot.
A gate guard shouted, “Point that dagger down and slow your approach.”
Thessa slowed, tucking the dagger by her side. “It’s from the workshop. My project, remember? I was trying to show you.” She made a face as if it were glaringly obvious.
“Sheathe your blade at once. You’re still on school grounds,” the other guard demanded.
Although soldiers don’t take kindly to waving daggers, they’re not forbidden. Blades were permitted across Andera. Daggers were as much ceremonial, as they were useful, but the rules on school grounds differed. Here, all blades must remain sheathed when carried, unless in a faculty-supervised setting.
Thessa slipped it back in her boot and lifted both hands. The guards parted and opened the gates with a small whoosh of their air-magic.
When the gates clinked behind them, Leora whispered to Thessa, “Why’d you do that?”
Thessa whispered back, “To distract them from the stolen uniforms bundled in our cloaks. We look like smugglers.”
Leora grinned.
They paced away from CSA, and towards their next stop, Gravenport’s Funding Corporation. Leora had to make a very large deposit.
After stating their purpose to the guards perched along the entrance, Thessa and Leora entered unfamiliar territory.
Inside, they were greeted by a clerk with mint-dyed hair and a narrow chin. Leora discussed opening an account, then followed him into the back of the building. Thessa waited there, examining the small steel boxes lining the entire space. She drummed her fingers on the iron railing separating her from all the locked-up possessions of Andera.
When Leora returned, she was flipping through a small booklet of slips.
The clerk’s presence was warmer than their initial exchange as he said, “We’re here if you need us, be well.”
Leora muttered her goodbyes, and they were off.
Thessa led Leora through the mist-ridden city before yanking her arm. “Down this way.”
“Where are we going now?”
Thessa pulled Leora into a narrow, brick-lined alleyway, and said, “Back here,” before slipping behind a row of rubbish bins.
“Tess, why?” Leora’s nose scrunched; the smell of fish and rot permeated around them.
“This is the only place we’ll find privacy around here.”
The trash bins behind the fish market were buzzing with insects. Thessa held back her bile while removing her cloak and dress. Leora was shaking her head when her cloak hit the floor. Thessa wasn’t sure if it was because of the uniforms they were changing into, the critters scurrying around before the next dousing of rain, or the filth, but it was likely a combination of all three.
Thessa rolled the bottoms of her sleeves, then pants. Her limbs were shorter than most witches. She flattened down both lapels, fastened the six steel buttons along the front of the double-breasted jacket, then slid her boots back on.
Leora asked, “Do I look alright?”