"And prior to that time, the world remained undestroyed," Bella points out.
"Lucky world," says Libby. "I'd rather not leave it to luck anymore."
"Even if I assume you began doing what you do sometime during elementary school, you've had two decades tops working on it. Did you take over from someone else? Has there been maybe one, more likely zero, arguable potential apocalypse you've been in a position to intervene with over that entire period? Are you operating in ignorance of other persons, forces, or organizations with the same goal who've been around longer than you? Are you using this as a cover to make yourself sound altruistic while you mostly work on something else? Is the world in negligible danger and you're paranoid? All of those possibilities are more likely than the world having always needed someone doing what you do and only having just recently gotten it, previously persisting only by luck."
"Anyone with the powers you or I have could easily cause massive widespread destruction if they happened to feel like it and no one was around to stop them," says Libby. "Are you going to argue with that?"
Like, for example, if Alice had gotten minting powers without her around - the results would not look like "volcano erupts" or "tsunami hits". It would look like "suffocating rain of jellybeans".
"So... because it's obvious that it hasn't happened yet, it's probably not going to happen in the future? I'm having trouble following your logic here."
Bella pauses, steepling her fingers.
"How'd you know to look in the first place?"
"I arranged to find out when there are new mints," she says. "It was the obvious thing to do. By the way, counting you and your friend, and assuming there aren't any more that managed to hide from me, there are currently five."
"My friend?" Bella asks. That has to be Alice, but she doesn't want to give away anything about him right now. He is her secret weapon. "And - what, only five? In the world? Are you one yourself - are you any sort of magic yourself?"
"I'm a mint, yes, although I don't use it very often. If there are any more, they are either very well hidden or not on this planet at all."
"Five," she says.
Elias knew a lot of mints. What happened to them? (Maybe Libby wiped them out.)
"How does your mint-detector work?"
"Five is fewer than I expected. Maybe there's something the matter with your detector."
Bella half-lies. "Because it's so straightforward to make more mints. Anyone who wants anything even relatively pedestrian would have a motive to divvy up the minting between themselves and a reasonably trustworthy apprentice or three, who get the power in exchange for some fraction of the coins they generate. Mints should also live longer - curing diseases and so on, even if nothing else. Five. That's almost none. That's mints almost died out levels."
"True," says Libby. "And before you ask, it was like that when I got here."
"And you haven't made more yourself because you think they'd destroy the world?"
"I haven't made more myself because I want to be very, very careful about who I give that power to. I don't necessarily think they'd destroy the world, but the intersection of people who want to be mints with people I trust to be mints is not as large as you seem to think."
"If anyone has the wherewithal to sort through a lot of people I'd expect it to be you," Bella says.
"Of course I do," she says. "But on the other hand, I don't consider replenishing the world mint population—if it was ever more than five to begin with—very urgent."
She wonders if Libby will ask her the same question, if she asks how Libby became a mint. She wonders if Libby already knows. She decides that the question is obvious enough that drawing it to acknowledged attention won't hurt.
"How did you come to be a mint?"
"I found one, and asked very nicely," she says. "There was a certain amount of bribery involved. Mostly he wanted to know it was the only six I'd ever ask him to make. How about you?"