Inez was sizing up our surroundings with a critical eye and didn’t look impressed. “Jaclyn sent us since she couldn’t get away from your friends. They’ve staked out her house.”

“The Alchemists aren’t my friends,” Sydney retorted.

“Well, whatever they are, they’re a pain in the ass,” Inez said. “But we told her we’d help you, so here we are.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Sydney said, adorably polite as ever. “I know what an inconvenience it must be.”

Maude smiled kindly at her. “It’s not as inconvenient as some people would have you think.” She set down two large tote bags, stuffed to overflowing with mysterious ingredients. “Now then. I understand we need to make you stronger.”

“Do you?” Sydney asked in surprise.

Inez pushed up the sleeves of her rose-printed dress and peered into one of the bags. “That’s what Jaclyn says. Says you’re going to be getting in fights or some such nonsense.”

“Well, yeah, but I just figured I’d use the evasive techniques Wolfe taught me.”

“Wolfe?” Inez snorted in disgust. “That hippie that Jaclyn’s dating? Believe me, smarts and ‘evasive techniques’ are fine if that’s all you’ve got to rely on, but if you get a chance to be the baddest and strongest, always be the baddest and strongest.”

There were a number of things wrong with what she’d said, starting with her referring to Wolfe—who owned more weapons than anyone I’d ever met—as a hippie.

Inez carefully took out an innocuous-looking canteen from the bag. “What’s that?” I asked.

“A very special and complex potion,” said Maude. “One that several of us worked on for most of today.”

As she spoke, I took note of the dark circles under her eyes and fatigue in her voice. Sydney saw it too. “You didn’t have to do that . . .” she said.

“We did,” said Maude simply. “Cleaning up after Alicia is our responsibility—and if that involves preparing you for these bizarre acts of brutality, we’ll help you do it.”

“What’s in it?” I asked. The scope and randomness of human magic was still kind of amazing to me. Plus, focusing on it distracted me from thinking about Sydney and “bizarre acts of brutality.”

“You’re happier not knowing,” Maude told me. “Now then. We need to finish off the spell by—”

We heard the sound of a door opening. A moment later, the beaded curtain separating the living room from the kitchen rustled, and Howie stepped through. He looked surprised to see additional people here and blinked a few times, as though ascertaining that we were all real and not some hallucination. I imagined in his life, that was a distinction that had to constantly be made. And, considering my increasing interactions with Aunt Tatiana, it was something I could relate to.