“Come along now,” he said, with a slight midsouthern accent, like Carolina or Tennessee.

“Wait a minute,” Patricia said. It felt weird to be speaking English again, but she didn’t have time to worry about that. “Who are you? And where are you taking me?”

The man sighed, like a thousand valves opening to release a million years of pent-up exasperation. “Could we do this in the car, perhaps? I can take you to a drive-thru for some grub. My treat.”

“No thanks,” said Patricia. “I ate a lot of suet. I’m good.” She had a moment of remembering how she’d snarfed the pearly fat, and felt revolted.

“Very well.” The man shrugged, causing his big coat to elevate and subside. “You may call me Kanot.” He pronounced his name somewhere between “cannot” and “connote.” “I’m here to summon you to a special school, for people with your particular talents. A secret academy staffed by the greatest witches alive, where you can be taught to use your powers responsibly, and well. We heard whispers about you, and tonight you demonstrated an extraordinary aptitude. This is an honor, the start of a wondrous journey, et cetera et cetera. Or you can stay here and eat suet.”

“Wow.” Patricia wanted to jump and shout for happiness, but she felt too stunned to move. Plus she was still freezing, even with the Red Sox jacket. “You want to take me to the special magic school? Now?”

“Yes.”

“That is the coolest thing that has ever happened to anyone. I’ve been waiting my whole life for this. I’d almost given up hope.” Then Patricia remembered and fell back on her heels. “Only, I can’t go with you. Not yet, anyway.”

“It’s now or never.”

Patricia could tell this was not how these conversations usually went. The tall man, Kanot, looked pissed.

Patricia pulled the Red Sox jacket tighter around herself and looked down at her tight fists. “I want to go with you. More than anything. It’s just that I have this friend. My only friend. And he’s in trouble. He’s Laurence. He’s talented, too, only in a different way.”

“You cannot help him. You have to let go of all your old attachments if you want to study at Eltisley Maze.”

Patricia felt the suet churn inside her. She wanted so badly to say that Laurence could fend for himself, so she could go to the magical academy. If the positions were reversed, Laurence would probably ditch her, right? But he was still her only friend, and she couldn’t just up and leave him. She looked at the man’s car, a rented Ford Explorer parked in a turnaround, and stammered, “I … You have to believe that I want to go with you. More than anything. But I can’t. I can’t turn my back on my friend. And if your fancy witch teachers don’t believe in loyalty and helping people in trouble, then I guess I don’t want to learn what they have to teach anyway.”