"Who else is there, besides your coven or another group of Hespatians?"

"Ah, politics, my favorite subject. There are nine groups worth mentioning in the power balance of the worlds. The Outsiders make the rest of us tolerate each other - you can seek them out but if you try I will kill you and it will be a kindness. Alphazon has the money, the ORCs have the guns, and both of  them have the lawyers - and more importantly, mortals. Lunabella and  Alfheimr are charming little societies dense with full witches, and the  Watchers are moralizing meddlers with enough support to stay intact. Hawthorne Academy is the boarding school from hell; if you want to reach your maximum possible potential at all costs, you take Professor Hawthorne's curriculum. Arcadia College is the baby sister with big dreams."

"But the real powers are Alphazon, Hawthorne, and Hespatia. Hawthorne will push you to your limits to ensure you achieve them. Alphazon will buy your soul at an extremely rich price. And Hespatia have the people who seek real power. From the shadows, from ancient archives, from secrets passed down from voice to voice. From Hell itself, when need be."

"If you want a course of study through Hawthorne I won't begrudge you. But if you have ambition, and you want safety, and a family? Then you want the covens. My coven."

"And that's entirely neutral, and not at all self-serving or self-aggrandizing."

"Oh, of course not. Nobody told me I had to be fair. But it's all true... Well. Maybe the advantages of my personal coven are overstated. But I'm here, and they're not, and if I wanted to give you the hard sell I'd have to find somewhere... private."

"Well, now you have to tell me what that would be. In detail."

Tesera shifts to behind Basia's chair, pushing against the back of her neck with her robes.

"Well, two things. One, witches are female unless they expend some magic not to be. And two, one of the types of magic everyone has, is 'mothergifts.' A hat, a staff, and a robe, that can be called up on command. Or dismissed. And so guess what magic society really doesn't care about?"

Those sure are some large, soft breasts against her neck and the back of her head. And some extremely obvious implications. And mental images.

"Three guesses and the first two don't count? Right. Bloody beautiful lesbians everywhere. In public. Am I going to see ladies bonking on the side of the street regularly?"

"Oh, it doesn't go that far. And witches aren't most of society. But pretty women walking down the street topless and kissing their wives? Not every day, but any week the weather's good, if you live somewhere busy."

"If you wanted me distracted, you succeeded," she lies, "But let's say I'm probably in, and I look at the magic, and decide whether I need to hold out for more later. Can it fix my legs?"

"Oh, if you join, you can get it anyway, sweetie. And - yes, it can. But the power you get is - basically it comes in points. And some things give you more points, either long-term or immediately. Losing limbs is one of them. And because it's common, there's really good prosthetics. And really good chairs, too. Both of which you can buy with ordinary witch money - it's called kisses, and it's made of the same mana we use for spells. Much easier to get. Most people pass on limb loss, because it takes a lot of getting used to, but especially if you want to be an Academic witch like me it's a good trade."

"Hmmm. Would I keep all the - damage, and things?"

"No, you'd just lose the physical legs just above the knee, any other nerve or tissue damage will all get fixed up. And no one will remember that the legs used to be there but not working, except people on the magic side of the Veil and people you specifically clue in and remind."

"I don't like this Veil. How many times has it messed with me?"

"Statistically, none. I have my suspicions about that, though. There's a friend of your father's who I'm reasonably sure is actually a male witch working with ORC. And things going wrong when he tries to tip off his mortal friend in the Met causing fortune-manipulated accidents that hurt innocents around them is... precedented. But the Veil's needed. The last time it seriously broke, the keystone world was destroyed, echoes of destruction hit the nearest hundred worlds, and the version of that on Earth was the death of the dinosaurs. And now it's the Keystone itself."

"Oh, that's just bloody wonderful. You mean Bob Watson, don't you?"

"That's the one. Can't prove he's a witch. Yet. And to his credit, if he is, he took the lesson and stopped taking risks after that. If you want to track him down more aggressively later..."

"No, that wouldn't do any good. I'll ask all polite if I have to. Before we talk about the magic, I want to hear about any other physical changes. If they're the same as you I think I'll be happy with 'em, but..."

"Aww, you like how I look, sweetie? But no, they probably won't be. Everyone gets to pick a lot of physical details. Physical sex is set, but you can mess around with height, shift your skin color, clean up any moles, most things you might think within the normal range of human variation. By default the cancer risk and general asymmetries get removed and everyone looks pretty; most witches choose to be hot on top of that. That's what 'Neutrals' get - the most human of witches, and the majority. But there's a race, and you'll have choices. I'm mostly Daeva, which is, essentially, humans but even better. Hotter, more graceful, fantastic boobs that are marvelously convenient for how awkward they'd be this size on a human. We're pretty common, too."

Yes, brain, we are thinking about those breasts right behind us. No, brain, that does not get to make my decisions about whether to take magic and climb her like a tree or wait and think and take my chances. Especially not when that was the point of emphasizing them.

"There's all kinds of other species. Mermaid. Centaur. Vampire. Fallen angel, risen demon. Doll who gets mana from following orders, and as much as I'd enjoy being the one giving them I don't recommend it. Dragon. Statue. Undead. Tinkerer. We'll see your options when we start. Usually you'll only get a few."

"Who says I'm one to take orders, hmm? Alright, stop looming and let's get started. Unless this is one of those things you have to go hammer and tongs until it's done."

"No, you can pause or back out any time. The only risk is annoying me enough I don't want to come back and awaken you."

"You swear to that?"

"On any god you like. Most of which probably sort of exist."

She looks around, sees no observers, and conjures a chair.

"Take my hand."

Tesera's a good liar, but not good enough to fool Bas. She extends her hand.