“Wait, what?” I leaned forward, trying to glance at the paper in The Witch’s hands. This was all becoming more real in front of me as it wore on. What I’d assumed to be a mean turn of phrase in a vengeful performance was clearly literal.
Madeline handed me the paper and waited as I picked through the spidery font, muttering under my breath.
“You want me to work forfree?”
Madeline nodded, so I continued, the words syrupy on my tongue, refusing to spit loose from disbelief. “For one hundred clients.”
The Witch waited in silence, staring blankly as I slumped back into the creaking metal chair. “Why?”
“If we may continue.”
I threw my hands up in frustration, but Madeline took her cue and picked up the second sheet of paper. More droning legalese followed for what felt like an hour—something about the human-witch accords of the 1600s and the various sentencing for violations on both sides.
I gave up trying to check the time. My smartwatch showed a scrambled screen, and I’d left my phone in the office. There were no clocks in the room, just bare, peeling walls and the endless, monotonous sound of Madeline reading.
Finally, The Witch said something that pulled me from my stupor, hauling me upright in my seat.
“Wait, read that part again?”
With no acknowledgement that I’d asked, Madeline repeated the line as if I’d pressed a rewind button.
“The centum shall be filled from a pool of The Witch’s choosing. For this instance, The Witch has selected the pool of The Monstrous, The Forgotten, and The Lost.”
“What does that mean?”
Madeline sighed as if I’d asked her for the definition of a three-letter word and not the twisted, binding language of a potentially supernatural contract. “It means I’ve chosen the population least likely to find housing safely in San Francisco.”
“I’m not the right person for that,” I said, guilt already threatening to open the floor and swallow me whole. “But we have a lot of non-profits and advocacy organizations that work with homeless?—”
“Theinhumanpopulation,” she amended, fixing me with a meaningful look.
My eyebrows shot to my hairline. “So, when you saymonstrous?—”
“It is literal, yes.” Madeline took her glasses off, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Miss Marina, are you going to continue interrupting like this? We will still be reading the contract in another decade if so.”
“Summarize it for me, then.”
“I cannot.” She replaced her glasses and started to read where she’d left off.
“Wait, Madeline, please.” She paused mid-word, mouth still holding its shape as she waited for me to continue. “I have towillinglysign the contract, right? That was in the first line. What if I only agree to sign based on your summary with the assumption that what you tell me is the absolute truth with no loopholes or tricks?”
“That’s not in the?—”
“You could add it. You and I both know these kinds of things come with addenda all the time.” I twisted my hands in my lap, fighting the urge to check my watch. Time seemed to work differently here anyway. I could no longer tell how long I’d been sitting in this flat, hard metal seat listening to The Witch drone on.
“Hmmm. Hold, please.” Madeline set the paperwork down and clacked furiously at the computer for several minutes. The printer belched out a single sheet, which floated to the desk between us. No more pretense, it seemed.
The page was turned to me and, in the same spidery font as before, I could clearly see the addendum I’d suggested.
“You’d make a killing in real estate,” I said, letting out a low whistle at the perfect, intricate terms laid out.
“I take it you agree to the addendum.” I finished signing the exhibit before she finished her sentence.
Madeline snapped her long fingers once and the paperwork between us vanished, leaving only a single sheet with two signature lines. The Witch leaned her chin into her hands and gave a tired sigh. “Basically, you slammed into me in the crosswalk and told me to get over it. I’ve got a bad shoulder and a worse attitude—or so I’ve been told—so I want you to learn a lesson. You’ll put one-hundred monsters in their chosen home within San Francisco city limits. You won’t take commissions, fees, or payment of any kind. If you are gifted items in gratitude, you won’t sell them or exchange them for currency. Once these terms are completed, the money youwould’veearned for each client will appear in your accounts with charmed tracking and history to make it seem as if it’s always been there on the correct timeline.”
“Oh, so you want me to answer for my supposed crime to an invisible magic court, but you don’t want the Feds coming down on me for laundering?”
“Exactly.” Madeline readjusted her glasses. “I’m glad you’re finally following. Butplease, hold your questions for the end. As I was saying, successful completion of your terms results in payment, and you’ll never have to see me again. But any tricks on your part—pressuring the client when they’re unsure, so you can speed through the process, for example?—”