Maggie took a pull on her milkshake, as much to give herself a moment to think as to drink. It had partially melted, and it tasted delicious.
This deal sounded delicious too, which only made her wary.
“And in exchange for this, I’m giving you…”
“Consider going to Toronto to help Mr. Thorburn, and give me my pick of one thing from inside your backpack there. The value isn’t so important to me as the sentiment.”
“That isn’t reassuring,” she said.
“Maggie dear,” Patrick said. She expected the glamour to hit her before it even did. Imbued words, charming, meant to tug at her heartstrings. He continued, oblivious or uncaring to the fact that he’d had little effect, “My primary interest here is in what is happening in Toronto. Interest being the operative word. Allow me to sate that interest, and I’ll embrace this uneven deal.”
“One thing from my backpack?”
“Yes.”
“Is it something I’m aware is inside?”
“I dare say it should be, barring mental defect on your part, like amnesia.”
“I’m going to look inside my bag first,” she said. “I reserve the right to take stuff out, if I don’t want you to have it.”
“You’re considering my offer then?” Patrick asked. He smiled, hitting her with glamour again. “Fantastic.”
She dismissed the glamour, dashing it aside, and dusted herself off to be sure. Before she did anything else, she paused, making sure she wasn’t thinking strangely.
Taking full mental stock of what was going on…
She glanced back at her dads.
“They’re content,” Patrick said. “I’ve distracted them and the man behind the counter so we can talk in private.”
“If you’re looking to win me over, messing with my dads is not the way to do it,” Maggie said.
“I’ll take note of that. I swear to leave your parents be.”
She relaxed, and set to sorting through her bag. The wallet was inside, and she wasted no time in removing it. The remains of her lunch, which she really should have removed earlier… nothing of value there.
Textbooks, she could afford to lose them. Unfinished homework… even there, she couldn’t imagine his interest. Pens?
One nice pen her father had given her. Sentimental value.
Patrick had said something about sentiment. Did he want to take the pen along with the attachment to her father? Could he? She wasn’t sure he was capable, and he’d just sworn to keep them safe.
She set it aside, just in case.
Leaving only textbooks and notebooks. She took her time paging through the notebook to be safe. Half a year of notes and handouts.
She could handle the inconvenience if he took the notebook out of some idle curiosity over how humans operated, or as material to help him in his schemes. It’d make the next semester harder, but her education wasn’t the highest priority.
“Is this a trap?” she asked.
“I harbor no animosity toward you, Maggie dear,” Patrick said. “I find you interesting, I would tarnish myself if I suggested becoming a familiar to someone boring. I’m motivated by interest: Maggie Holt in one hand, Toronto in the other. Combining the two seems like common sense.”
Patrick used his hands to gesture, clasping them together as he said ‘combining’.
“Are you anticipating that this Lord-level entity I’m supposed to meet is going to trap me or otherwise act against me in some form that escapes the protection you’re offering?”
“No.”
“Are you anticipating that I’ll cause trouble by going, breaking the truce and obviating the contract with this Junior Circle?”
“Yes,” Patrick said. “I’m disappointed, but yes. You will bring chaos down on your head by accepting the deal, refusing the contract, and assisting Mr. Thorburn.”
“Maggie,” her dad said.
Time was out?
Maggie drummed her fingers on the counter.
“Maggie,” he said, again.
“You could probably have distracted them a bit longer,” she said.
“Yes, but I’m impatient,” Patrick said. “Yes or no?”
Maggie drummed her fingers more.
“Yes.”
Padraic smiled. “Your bag?”
Her heartbeat was like something else, the way it pounded in her chest.
Padraic took his time removing the content. Textbooks and a pencil case, some tampons, a bit of loose change, her notebooks.
“Maggie,” her father said, joining her dad in the orders.
“Just go,” she said. “I’ll catch up. This is important!”
Her father shot her a very unimpressed look, but the door shut, and it was just Padraic and Maggie.
She made doubly sure her Athame was on hand, in case there was trouble. She’d cut goblin hair with it, and it was probably laced enough with impurities to do some real damage to Patrick if he made a fuss.
When the bag was empty, Patrick examined it thoroughly, turning it inside out.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Satisfying my curiosity, for one thing,” he said.
“And for the other?”
“Looking,” he said.
He picked up the notebook, then paged through it.
“For?”
“This will do,” Patrick said.
He picked one piece of paper from among the various slips and handouts she’d stuck between pages, so everything fell in chronological order.
The test paper, with the underlined ‘D’ on it.
Patrick pulled his ring off.
“That?” Maggie asked. “That’s it?”
“Not exactly,” Patrick said.
He used a ‘branch’ on the knife to swipe across the paper, once horizontally, once vertically.
He tore off one corner, “I’ll give this to you, my dear.”
She took the test paper. Every part of it, the underlined D included, was present. “I don’t understand.”
Patrick turned the slip of paper around so she could read it.
Maggie Holt
She felt a chill run through her. “I don’t understand.”
“You’re repeating yourself, my dear.”
“So are you,” she retorted. “Keep calling me ‘my dear’, it’s weird and creepy.”
She knew she sounded defensive, but she didn’t like this unease in her gut.
“What should I call you, then?”
She opened her mouth, but the name wouldn’t come forth.
It dawned on her just what a horrible mistake she’d made.
She reached for the ring, but Patrick was quick, pulling it out of reach.
“The deal-” she started.
“The deal was that the ring would go to Maggie Holt,” Patrick said. “Maggie Holt is my name.”
His name in the possessive.
He swiveled around on the stool, then hopped down. “And, as promised, I’ll work to ensure that the person with the name of Maggie will cross paths with the de-powered Lord when I make my visit to Toronto. As promised, you face no risk in the process.”