The drive over to the Kountry Kettle was tense. Two keyed-up superpowers in a confined space makes for a highly charged atmosphere; I was surprised we didn’t throw an air bag.

“Do you really think it’s her?” Jack asked, finally breaking the silence.

“I do. We left her furious.”

Jack didn’t answer, but he pressed down on the accelerator.

“I hate to say it,” I continued, “but I think we need to consider recent events as failed attempts to break through.”

“One strong enough to pull the ground from under our feet, another vile enough to turn a few ramped-up kids into an angry mob . . . What’s next?”

“Who knows? A part of me hopes she’s out of ideas.” (“And friends,” I muttered, turning to the window.) Besides, no one ever said hope was the same as belief.

We didn’t speak again until we were inside the Kountry Kettle. Looking around the restaurant, I anxiously scanned the place for signs of trouble. It had never settled well with me that kettle was a synonym for caldron. Knowing that my own clan was a brand of white witch, I’d always wondered about the genesis of the name. And Norse Falls was obviously some kind of special place, vortex, or whatever. There were days when my para-radar was triggered by some Joe Blow on the street. It made me scribble garlic onto random shopping lists and accessorize even T-shirts with chunky crosses. My fears were allayed; it was the usual scene, one where the school divided into its various cliques. From first appearances, there didn’t seem to be anything brewing following the Asking Fire, though quite a few of the kids looked and smelled like wet dog. I passed Abby and Shauna’s table, where they were cozily munching fries and sipping sodas. Spying Penny in a booth at the back, I braced myself for bad news.

Jack slid in next to Jinky, and I took the spot beside Penny.

“That was an Asking Fire to remember,” I said, slipping a menu out of the tabletop holder.

“I’ll say,” Penny said, biting her lips back to keep from smiling.

I eyeballed her, dropping my menu; I already knew I was going to get apple pie à la mode. “Spill.”

“I’m going to the dance,” Penny said.

I couldn’t help it; my eyes flickered to the front of the restaurant, where Abby was still, for all appearances, happy as could be. “Who?”

“Who do you think?” she said, as if it was a dumb question.

“Uh.” Again my gaze roamed. “Does it start with an M?”

She finally unleashed the smile she’d had such a hard time controlling.

“Then where is he?”

“He took off. He wasn’t feeling good. I, on the other hand, feel great.” Penny said. Her smile had broadened; she’d have marionette lines if she didn’t dial it down soon.

Jack and Jinky were discussing burger toppings. He recommended pepper jack to Jinky, who was firm in her conviction that Americans made cheese about as well as they made beer.

I took advantage of the moment to whisper to Penny, “So when did this happen?”

“On the dash for the parking lot through the pouring rain.” She lowered her voice and turned her head to my ear. “It was the fire; I’m sure of it. He said I hadn’t turned ugly like the others.”

Jack and I hadn’t acted ugly, either, but it wasn’t like I needed affirmation from Marik.

“We need to come up with a few dresses by next Saturday,” Penny continued.

“A few?” A couple meant two, so a few was more than that.

Penny motioned across the table with her head. “Jinky needs one.”

“I need one what?” Jinky asked.

“Homecoming dress,” Penny said.

“Oh. Cool. Who are you going with?” I asked Jinky.

“It’s a surprise,” Penny said with a lift of her shoulders.

So this evening was getting weirder and weirder.

“Let’s check out that vintage clothing store in Walden,” Penny continued. “They have some nice stuff.”

“I’m not wearing some dorky ball gown,” Jinky said.

I sighed with relief. The world was not off its axis and careening through space. Though there was an alternate realm that I was pretty sure would like to see us roll.