There’s a day when Margaret doesn’t see Jaime - or Madeline - at all, which is mildly unusual.

And then there’s another one. And then another one.

Her bed doesn’t seem slept in, and none of cooking ingredients are being used up.

If she went on vacation and forgot to tell anybody, that's weird. If she moved out and didn't tell anybody, that's going to be a problem when the rent is due. If she got hit by a bus, that would be awful. 

Margaret still has Jaime's phone number from when they first arranged to meet; she sends her a text.

You seem to have disappeared. Did you decide to go be a hermit in the Canadian wilderness or something? :)

It's probably fine, she probably just ended up crashing in random places a few nights in a row. 

There’s no response. 

Margaret's prophecies definitely don't always do what she wants, but she can steer a bit, focus on a certain subject and "reach".

"She wants to leave Ulyanovsk by any means necessary."

Ulyanovsk is a city in Russia.

Well, crap.

Margaret tries the police; they're doubtful that an unreproducible piece of magic is a valid thing to use in a missing persons report and also if she is in Russia they can't really do anything. Typical.

She emails all her professors to ask for an extension on her homework (she might not end up needing it, but better to be sure), tells Naomi to call her immediately if she hears anything from Jaime, and gets on a series of cheap last-minute red-eye flights from San Francisco to New York to Moscow, which is within flying distance of Ulyanovsk.

Assorted airlines appreciate her business and are only terrible in ordinary ways.

And now she is in Moscow.

She Google Translates her way through acquiring convenience store food and flaps off for Ulyanovsk.

And so she is soon in Ulyanovsk!

No suspicious characters immediately assail her. The sun is setting.

No further prophecies are immediately forthcoming, so she tries the law again. Hello local police station, her friend went incommunicado and last she knew she was here, have they seen a magical girl with darkness powers and this typical appearance, and if they haven't do they have any idea what might have befallen her?

The police have a translator on hand.

They haven’t seen anyone of the kind, but, uh, is she aware that this is a city. With over six hundred thousand people. They... can’t... really... keep track of all of them? The translator politely suggests that her friend might have gone out drinking, forgotten to call about a change in plans, lost her phone, actually why was she in Ulyanovsk anyways and how long ago did she lose contact...

If she hasn't been involved in anything dramatic enough to get the attention of the police, that's probably, if not good news, at least not bad news. She thanks the police for their time and says she probably has just lost her phone, hopefully they'll find each other soon. Then she goes off to find a library or a park or something where she can try for another prophecy. Eventually she manages to emit an address, and starts making her way toward that that instead.

Someone starts walking in step with her.

She’s 5’10, or so, and something’s a little strange about her posture, and - is that a tiny bulge, mostly covered by the placement of her purse? - but she mostly seems like an unremarkable, if pretty, woman.

“Has God guided you as one would hope and desire, during your stay in Russia?” she asks, in mildly accented English.

Oh dear, a religious person. Margaret can sort of see the Thaumatologists' point, but is firmly agnostic nonetheless. "I'm not religious, but my stay has been nice so far, thank you."

“God may work through many ways and paths, in fortune and misfortune. What path do you walk on, now and here?”

"Do I know you?"

This is what she gets for being subtle. 

“God may have sent you on a path to a specific address. To find a specific and particular person, who wishes to be sought. Down a specific and particular road, which you are currently on. And if you do go down that road, to find that person, at that address, you are going to die, divine favor or no.”

Margaret slows down, starts twisting one of her rings. "Okay. Thanks for the warning. Do you have advice on how I could find the person and avoid dying?"

The woman flicks a folded slip of paper at her.

”Be there, tomorrow, at six in the afternoon.”

Margaret grabs it and memorizes the contents. "Alright." She isn't getting any sense of hostile intent from this woman, so it's probably better to trust her than to assume they're at cross purposes and by assuming make it so.

And the woman - who never bothered introducing herself - turns, and walks away.

Margaret doubts a name would have meant anything to her anyway. And she was in that grey area where she could have been a magical girl trying to pass for baseline, so maybe the face doesn't mean anything either. 

She goes straight to the place on the card to scope it out.

It’s a building! It looks exceedingly fancy and exceedingly large, but it doesn’t seem to be open, and it doesn’t have any convenient labels attached for her viewing pleasure.

As long as it isn't a seedy warehouse for murdering people in, it's better than it might have been. She'll be there the next day, about half an hour early.

There are a number of extremely rich people present and milling about; only a few of them give her a second glance. A uniformed woman at the door smiles warmly and asks her what her name is, first using Russian and then switching seamlessly over to English.

Rich people: exotic and slightly unnerving. "Margaret Perry."

What is going on and how does this lead to her finding Jaime. Hopefully all of this will be a hilarious story five years from now.

The uniformed woman beams at her and ushers her inside.

There are... even more rich people! They seem to be having an extravagant party, as rich people do; there are statues, and tables filled with food that looks ridiculously delicious and also just ridiculous, and a hundred different conversations going on in languid Russian. The light is dim; the music, produced by a small orchestra, seems to consist entirely of instrumental pop and hip hop. There are several other magical girls in attendance; none of them look particularly like the one who told her to come.

None of the rich people immediately approach her.