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Isabella doesn't really want to own as many things as a human. She likes the simple wardrobe, the one glorious vehicle that carries her under the stars, the rental house. Hair can do without shampoo as long as it's not accustomed to the stuff; no one really needs to own a copy of Monopoly; she sleeps comfortably in a hammock instead of having to come up with the hundreds of dollars for a mattress (let alone a frame).
She sometimes wishes she had her own computer.
She has a phone, which Charlie insists she carry with her, so that's all right and no one's going to call her unwitchly for indulging a beloved mortal. It will do simple web browsing. When she wants to do less simple web browsing, she goes to the library.
So here she is, in the Rockland Public Library, looking up alethiometers.
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"No particular rush. I just expect humans to arrive places with - train tickets and itineraries and hotel bookings. Where are you staying?"
Kas laughs. "Dunno yet."
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"...did you get un-broke enough to afford a hotel?" Isabella says.
He snorts. "Depends on the hotel."
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"Do you want me to ask Metis if you can crash at hers? We don't keep the house particularly warm, but I can run to the Westfords' and bless their apple tree or something and borrow their space heater. We did that when my dad came to visit."
Kas blinks at her, surprised. "Yeah, sure! That's real sweet of you," he says.
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"Okay. You probably want to look for a hotel you can afford anyway, in case Metis says no. There's my dad, and then there's random boy I met in Québec City."
He laughs. "Yeah, no shit."
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"I might as well ask her now, though. You can come along in case she wants to meet you before deciding." Isabella gets up from the snowdrift. Path bats at the clinging not-yet-melted snow on her silks with his wings until she's only a little damp, and she sits on her cloud-pine. "She's kind of formal. Call her Metis Imestha, and it can't hurt if you call me by full name when she's listening, too - second name is Amariah, if you forgot it. Don't talk to her daemon personally, he doesn't like it unless they're at least a mile apart and even then he runs way fewer messages than the average witch daemon - have Petaal say anything you need to communicate to him. She's pretty likely to ask you point-blank if you plan to steal or vandalize anything, and, I mean, the obvious answer is no, but if you do actually wind up doing those things she's liable to curse you and also pretty likely to hold me responsible for you and kick me out of my apprenticeship, which I would resent."
"I forgot your first name, too," Kas says cheerfully, hauling himself to his feet. Petaal shakes herself out, sending bits of snow flying everywhere.
"Should I stay stuck in front of her?" she inquires.
"Should I stay stuck in front of her?" she inquires.
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"Isabella," says Isabella, rolling her eyes. "There's no other reason for you to be in Rockland in particular, is there? Did you come here to see someone whose name you forgot?"
Path says to Petaal, "Depends. Do you want to spend six to ten hours in a divination circle being told to turn into things?"
Path says to Petaal, "Depends. Do you want to spend six to ten hours in a divination circle being told to turn into things?"
"Isabella Amariah," he repeats. "It's pretty."
Petaal snorts. "Can I have him with me?" she asks, leaning into Kas. "Then sure."
Petaal snorts. "Can I have him with me?" she asks, leaning into Kas. "Then sure."
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"Thanks." Isabella thinks. "Yeah, some divination circles won't be thrown off by the human's presence, just tell her you've got no separation distance to speak of and you can spend six to ten hours together in a divination circle being asked to turn into things."
"What are you signing us up for, baby?" says Kas, petting his daemon's fluffy head.
"Magic," says Petaal. "You'll like it, hush."
"Magic," says Petaal. "You'll like it, hush."
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"You can also watch me bless-the-apple-tree-or-whatever for the space heater, if you want," Isabella says, floating along at a reasonable walking speed through the streets. "I don't know any clan-secret type magic that I'd have to be hidey about."
"Sounds like fun," says Kas.
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"It is. I like magic. I can show you stuff even if Metis says we can't put you in the attic, if you like. Heck, I could put you in a divination circle and take readings on Petaal if you somehow manage not to capture Metis's interest, but I think you will. If she weren't thoroughly fascinated by magic I wouldn't have asked for her as my teacher."
Both of them laugh.
"You're fun," says Petaal.
"You're fun," says Petaal.
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Path grooms a bit of Isabella's hair with his beak, smugly, like he's trying to say I have a fun witch!.
"Thanks," laughs Isabella.
"Thanks," laughs Isabella.
Kas giggles. Petaal bumps her nose against his leg.
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The library isn't that far from Metis's house, at least in New England suburb terms. Isabella matches pace comfortably with Kas on her cloud-pine.
The house is a ridiculously cute little bungalow with a steeply peaked roof and a snowed-over herb garden. There is a sign up that says trespassers may be cursed.
Isabella floats right up to the door, slides off her cloud-pine, and opens it. It's apparently not locked. "Teacher! Visitor!" she calls.
"Starclad!" comes the reply.
"Do you care if she answers the door stark naked?" Isabella asks Kas over her shoulder.
The house is a ridiculously cute little bungalow with a steeply peaked roof and a snowed-over herb garden. There is a sign up that says trespassers may be cursed.
Isabella floats right up to the door, slides off her cloud-pine, and opens it. It's apparently not locked. "Teacher! Visitor!" she calls.
"Starclad!" comes the reply.
"Do you care if she answers the door stark naked?" Isabella asks Kas over her shoulder.
"Nope," says Kas.
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"He doesn't care!" Isabella shouts into the house.
A woman who is indeed stark naked, unselfconscious, and agelessly lovely in the way that witches past fifty develop, descends the stairs. She's not accompanied by her daemon at the moment. "Well, who is it?" she asks.
"Teacher, this is someone I met in Québec City. He may or may not have a name so I've been calling him Kas and his daemon Petaal. Kas, this is Metis Imestha, my teacher. Teacher, I was wondering if we could put him up in the attic for just a few nights. I'll trade for the space heater on my own time."
Metis looks at Kas assessingly.
A woman who is indeed stark naked, unselfconscious, and agelessly lovely in the way that witches past fifty develop, descends the stairs. She's not accompanied by her daemon at the moment. "Well, who is it?" she asks.
"Teacher, this is someone I met in Québec City. He may or may not have a name so I've been calling him Kas and his daemon Petaal. Kas, this is Metis Imestha, my teacher. Teacher, I was wondering if we could put him up in the attic for just a few nights. I'll trade for the space heater on my own time."
Metis looks at Kas assessingly.
Kas smiles a very friendly smile.
Petaal (who has been walking behind him for a bit) rears up on her hind feet, puts her paws on his shoulders, and peeks playfully around him.
Petaal (who has been walking behind him for a bit) rears up on her hind feet, puts her paws on his shoulders, and peeks playfully around him.
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"Isabella Amariah, if you met a boy in Québec City, why didn't you mention that?" Metis asks finally.
"He showed me a restaurant he liked and told me to get the soup, Teacher, I didn't really expect he'd turn up here. It's not like I told him at daggerpoint that he was mine or anything," says Isabella, rolling her eyes.
Path whispers to Petaal, "You might want to interest Teacher now, if you were going to."
"He showed me a restaurant he liked and told me to get the soup, Teacher, I didn't really expect he'd turn up here. It's not like I told him at daggerpoint that he was mine or anything," says Isabella, rolling her eyes.
Path whispers to Petaal, "You might want to interest Teacher now, if you were going to."