Flying over the wall was out of the question. The wards over New Millennium allowed insects and birds to pass through, but would zap anything larger, or anything magical. I could try to hitch a ride out the main gates, but I lacked the books I’d need to counter the heightened security measures, and I wasn’t sure I could make it to the Library Tower without being seen.

I’d come up with one option. I gave myself an hour to think of an alternative. When that hour passed, I added another thirty minutes, then fifteen more, like a kid hitting the snooze button on Monday morning before school. I really didn’t want to do this.

Finally, hope and denial gave way to resignation. I turned back into mist, crept out of my office, and made my way toward the restroom.

New Millennium was designed to be as self-sufficient as possible, but there were limits. Nobody had put together a magical sewage treatment plant yet, and it was more economical to tap into the city’s infrastructure than to try to build it all ourselves. The sink pipes in the bathroom should provide a way out.

I flowed beneath the door. Before I could do anything more, I heard footsteps in the hall behind me. I hurried into the closest stall. The bathroom door opened, and a man’s voice called out, “Anybody in here? I saw smoke.”

With one fire having broken out today, they’d be quick to respond to any hint of another. I remained silent, hoping he’d run off long enough for me to escape. Instead, he stepped in after me and pushed open the first stall, then the second.

Aw, crap. Today just kept getting better.

I pulled myself into the toilet. Water pressed around me, trying to break me into discrete bubbles of gas. I had to compress myself into a fraction of my usual size, which left me feeling both crushed and bloated.

Also, the water was really, really cold.

“What’s going on?”

I froze. That was Babs Palmer’s voice.

“Thought I saw smoke.”

“In the bathroom?” Babs sniffed. “Get back to your rounds.”

One set of footsteps left, and the bathroom door swung shut. I didn’t move.

Eventually, I heard Babs’ boots clopping like hoofbeats over the tile. If she used magic, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to counter it in this form. Or she could simply toss one of those pearls into the toilet, and I’d . . . I wasn’t sure what would happen if I was forced back into my normal form while submerged in the toilet water, but it wouldn’t be pleasant.

“Six, five, three,” Babs whispered.

A short time later, she walked away. The door opened again, and the bathroom fell silent. Had she left, or was she trying to trick me into revealing myself?