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Three days ago, Catleia Stolos’s world was filled with curiosity and wonder. She’d always suspected that there’s more out there - frontiers of knowledge unimaginable to her professors - and she had been proven right.
Three days ago, Catleia Stolos was giddily bringing the internet to the Boiling Islands, with the eager help of one Luz Noceda and the residents of the so-called Owl House. It was hard work, made harder by her own badly-overengineered solution, but she was thrilled to complete it. She was proud to demonstrate to the witches the potential of the internet.
But three days ago the demon Emperor killed ten thousand people in the blink of an eye.
And three days ago, her curiosity turned to fear and her wonder turned to grief.
Luckily, she can process without worrying about class: the university is shut down. In emails to the students and statements to the press, her school has somberly declared that classes are canceled for two weeks, to give the student base "time to grieve and to heal"; and furthermore, the rest of the semester may be done virtually, “depending on conditions in Marthasville.”
But Catleia could process better without interruptions from her parents. They’ve been carrying on multiple arguments-over-SMS. Her father thinks this is the perfect time to really focus on her Master’s thesis, and an excellent opportunity “to get a leg up on the competition.” She can’t make him understand the depth of guilt she feels for her very tangential role in this disaster, nor how little she can realistically accomplish with campus closed and the city more-or-less in lockdown. (Has her father the salaryman literally sold his soul to his bosses at Deutsche Bank? Probably not. Catleia Stolos is too fervent a materialist to believe anything like that. But something in him died long ago.)
Her mother, meanwhile, has been bombarding her with conspiracy theories: the military here ignored advanced warning; the Marthasville Explosion was an inside job; President Zelenskyy is a neo-Nazi who coordinated the whole thing with the Demons; and so on. (The locals here have this word: “Karen.” Catleia hasn’t been able to nail down precisely what it means, but she’s sure her mother is one.)
There’s a reason Catleia Stolos chose to get her Master’s at a city her parents can’t visit without getting a tourist visa and then enduring a nine-hour flight.
(At least they’re still talking with her. Her older sister cut the entire family off a few years ago, after getting a job at some obscure British business-to-business firm.)
For now, at least, she has space to process the death of Francisco Noceda. For so long, she’d only known him only as an anonymous username in an obscure chatroom: @ast517, always ready with cynical complaints about the workplace, interesting insights about software development, and extremely wrong opinions about C++.
She always suspected the username belonged to a crotchety old woman in her sixties. She couldn’t have imagined that it belonged to a fellow immigrant, who lived only six hours away.
Could they have been friends, if things went differently? She had planned on leaving the country after graduating, but there’s a lot of work here for people as skilled with computers and electronics as her. They hung out once or twice, after that summit he organized, and he seemed like a decent person. Maybe-
A buzz from her phone interrupts her musing. A private message, sent to her account at a forum she shares with Terri and Cyrus (and with Francisco, once upon a time.)
PM from <lnoceda>
Hi. This is Luz Noceda. You were friends with my uncle Francisco. I need your help with something - something to help avenge my tío, and everyone else. I’d like to meet you, and your roommate, and Terri, and Cyrus. Please reply with when you can meet.
The hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She’s been burned by invitations like this. It’s why she owns a can of pepper spray.
But…
She still wants the wonder back. She wants limitless possibilities to unfold in front of her again. This Luz is just a kid, but she’s closer to the magic than anyone else.
...Yes. She’ll take the risk, just for that.
Would Steve go, just to see Luz? Probably not. He’s curious, but not in the same way Catleia is. And he had reservations about magic even before the war started.
As she thinks, she gets a text message from Terri Green:
I assume you got the PM from Luz? Take the meeting. I have a proposal of my own. Something we can do to actually help the war effort, alongside an offer I think you’ll appreciate. I told Luz that 8 PM works for me - does that work for you?
Terri’s mysterious proposal piques the curiosity, so that evening sees Steve driving Catleia away from the city center. (Catleia would drive, but the Betrayal sent a tree crashing into her now-ruined car.) In accordance with their ancient treaty, negotiated nigh upon a year ago, they talk about what the driver wants to talk about.
“I’ve been trying to call the city’s tip line,” Steve complains. “The mayor wants to know - how did she put it? ‘Anything a resident of the city knows’? And we knew actual witches. But they won’t let me speak with a human! They put me on hold for hours and half the time the call drops mysteriously, and when I’m not dropped I wait until their call center closes, and get told to call back later.”
“I could have sworn the tip line was 24/7?”
“They don’t have the money for that! Surely any patriotic citizen is willing to reach out during ordinary business hours!”
And there he goes, complaining about the city government. He can talk for hours about how Marthasville is run, most of which he spends criticizing their foolish, short-sighted, inconsistent, and-so-on-and-so-forth decisions.
A thought strikes Catleia. “The federal government is working on a website, right? Maybe you can wait until that’s up, and submit something through that?”
He scoffs. “That could be weeks, you know what the government is like. And even if it isn’t, I bet idiots will flood it with speculation and nonsense! Just like the tip line!”
“We have more than speculation…”
“How will they find out?! They don’t have enough analysts to sift through everything those morons are submitting!”
Catleia frowns. She imagines an underpaid city employee, reading a dozen tip line transcripts. Not knowing how to separate confidently-phrased guesswork from genuine insight. Deciding that nobody knows everything, throwing out the entire stack of paperwork, and inadvertently destroying the testimony of someone like Steve. It’s a data problem: they know they have lots of low-quality data, but they don’t know if they have any high-quality data. Really, what the government needs is someone credible who can show them how to separate the wheat (Steve and Catleia) from the chaff (everyone else).
Eventually, they arrive at the address Luz sent them: an apartment complex some distance from the Marthasville Portal. (Catleia realizes they’re pretty far from the location embedded in that video Francisco posted, all those weeks ago.) Cyrus had insisted on a “staging point” at the complex’s leasing office, and Catleia spots his beat-up old RV as they drive in. While Steve parks, she notices Terri standing on the sidewalk, holding a briefcase with one hand and a phone to her ear with the other.
Cyrus approaches them as they get out of the car, and he grouses “took you long enough. How have you been holding up?”
Steve answers first. “I’m furious. This city is my home. I was born here, and I came far too close to dying here. I can’t keep sitting around at home, I need - need - to do something to help the war.” He looks to Terri. “HEY!”, he shouts. “YOU GOT SOMETHING OR WHAT?”
She raises her index finger, and says something into her phone.
Cyrus nods at Catleia. “And you?”
“I… I feel like something’s been taken from me. You remember, a few days ago, when we set up that internet line?” He nods. “I just want back…” She waves vaguely, in vague frustration. She knows exactly what she wants back, but English isn’t her first language and she doesn’t know how to express it in the vernacular.
Cyrus nods his head. “A lot’s been taken from us. From all of us. The demon Emperor’s atrocity must be avenged. I’ve thought about re-enlisting in the Air Force, but I’m old. I don’t know if they’d have me back.” He looks to Terri, and bellows “Are you done?!”
She shakes her head and keeps talking. Cyrus looks at the students, shrugs, and suggests they go find Luz.
Terri follows them as they navigate the unfamiliar complex. It takes a few minutes to find the right building, then the right staircase, then the right apartment.
Cyrus knocks.
No answer.
He knocks again.
They hear the soft sound of footsteps - but no answer.
Terri growls. “I’ll call you back later,” she says into the phone, and then walks right up to the door, shouting “Luz, are you home? It’s Terri. I have Cyrus, Steve, and Catleia with me.”
The door cracks open. Just below the door chain, a Black woman peeks her head out, glaring at them with suspicion and fear. “Why are you here?”, she demands.
Terri speaks, apologetic confusion in her voice. “I’m sorry, does Luz Noceda live here?”
“Maybe, maybe not. Why are you here?”
Terri clears her throat. “Someone named Luz Noceda sent us this address, saying she wanted to meet us here.” Cyrus interjects, his voice soft but solemn: “we’re friends of her late uncle, you see. Came to know her a few days before, well, everything.”
“One moment,” replies the strange woman. She closes the door. They hear the sound of a lock clicking, and then footsteps deeper into the apartment.
After a few moments of awkward confusion, the door opens fully. They look down to see Luz standing in the doorway, and the stranger speaking with a hispanic woman - Catleia recognizes her, that’s Francisco’s sister Camila. Luz declares “C’mon, let’s speak outside, follow me,” as Catleia overhears Camila saying “Again, I’m so sorry Luz sent them your address, I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
As Luz leads them down the stairs, Catleia connects the dots. “Um, why aren’t we meeting at your house?”
Camila sighs bitterly from behind them. “The military took it, that’s why,” the woman explains. “They took all the houses too close to that awful Portal. They keep saying they’ll send a check for its ‘fair market value,’ but… I’m grateful I have a friend willing to accommodate me and my daughter.” As the six of them spill out into the parking lot, Camila walks up to Luz, and ruffles her hair. “And what were you thinking, sending poor Katherine’s address to all these people?”
“I’m sorry mom, but this is important! Now come on!”
Luz leads them around the back of the back of the building, and turns around to address the adults.
“Alright,” she says, “my mom’s been really busy at the hospital, and I’ve had a lot of time to myself. And I’ve been busy.” (Camila whispers, “oh, Luz…”)
“Emperor Belos thinks he’s planned out everything, but he doesn’t know squat. I have a plan to take him down. But I’m going to need your help.”
Catleia frowns. She didn’t come here to get dragged into the crazy scheme of some kid half her age.
Luz takes in a deep breath. “I’ve been speaking with Eda-” (her? no, surely Luz wouldn’t) “-and with Lillith-”
“YOU WHAT?!? ”, everybody exclaims in a cacophony of bewilderment. In this time of crisis, consorting with one of the witches who attacked Marthasville puts the whole city in danger.
“Listen to me! The explosion downtown was Emperor Belos’s work-” ( how could you possibly know that?) “-and maybe the Emperor’s Coven too-” (the what?) “-not all of witchkind! This war isn’t a ‘clash of civilizations’ like the news is saying! It’s all the work of a tyrant who’s gone mad with power! And we can fix it! ”
Catleia simply can’t keep up with this girl. Has she gone mad? Really, truly lost it?
And she isn’t even done. “Because do you know what? I’ve been speaking with Lillith, and she’s been speaking with her old friends, and it turns out: Emperor Belos is covering up why General Sherman is invading The Knee.” Wait, what?
Luz pauses for emphasis. “He hasn’t told anyone that he attacked Marthasville. He hasn’t told anyone that General Sherman is just trying to keep this city safe. He hasn’t told anyone that he’s the reason the war started! And that gives us a chance!”
“A chance to do what?”, Terri asks softly.
“A chance to overthrow Emperor Belos.”
A what, now? Luz has what in mind?!
Camila starts saying something, but her daughter cuts her off. “I’ve already spoken with Eda and Lillith. We are going to tell as many witches as we can that Emperor Belos attacked the city, and we are going to gather a team of allies, and together we are going to overthrow Emperor Belos and end this war .”
Catleia reels. She was not expecting to be invited to a coup. She studies computers and electronics! She doesn’t plan coups!
Camila walks up to Luz, and starts speaking to her, at length and with considerable emphasis - in Spanish. Luz argues back with equal heat and vigor. Catleia looks to the others in shock (mixed with embarrassment). Steve is appalled; Terri is worried; Cyrus seems conflicted.
After a minute or so, Camila’s shoulders sink and resignation, and she wearily leans against the building. Cyrus takes the chance to butt in. “You want to overthrow the demon government, and then what? Sue for peace?”
“Exactly.”
He’s clearly unconvinced. He crosses his arms and asks “And what if President Zelenskyy isn’t in a negotiating mood?”
But Terri interjects, kneeling down and laying a hand on Luz’s shoulder. “Ms. Noceda, I applaud your drive. I really do. I want to contribute to the war just as much as you do. In fact, that’s why-”
Luz brushes the hand off, and interrupts the fabulously wealthy middle-aged techie/businesswoman, saying “Cyrus, you used to be a soldier. You know how much this war is going to cost.” He grunts. She continues, less excited and more grim. “Nobody’s going to want to keep fighting it, not after they realize what the Boiling Isles are like. And that’s where you come in. I-” Luz’s voice hitches. “Adults don’t always listen to me. They think I’m just a kid, I’m too young… it’s different with the witches, but…”
She recovers. “But that’s why I need your help. If I- If we are going to recruit a band of witches to overthrow Belos, we need people who can speak for the humans. Adults, people that powerful witches will respect, who can speak for humanity when they say ‘President Zelenskyy doesn’t want this war, and she’ll end it as soon as Belos is gone.’ That’s why you’re here. You’re the only adults I know who’ve met Eda or Lillith. You know that there’s more to the Boiling Isles than Emperor Belos.”
Catleia is floored by this teenager’s boldness, she’d never-
“Are you crazy?!”, Steven shouts. “You want us, you want me, to just abandon my life, everything I have here? And to what, go on a mad quest to assassinate an evil dictator?”
Terri turns to him. “Steve, don’t be so harsh.” She turns to Luz, and softly suggests: “But Ms. Noceda, I’m afraid that you’re underestimating the difficulty of this project. I’ve been part of a lot of long shots, I’ve invested in a lot of long shots, I’ve even managed a lot of long shots. But do you realize the stakes here? You could die, Luz. This Emperor doesn’t sound like the man- er, witch- who tolerates dissent.”
“No, I’m starting to think she’s on to something,” Cyrus cuts in. “Identify disloyal figures, spill the beans, get them on-side. Stage a coup, destabilize the government. Who knows, it might even work.”
Catleia still can’t wrap her mind around this plan. Is she really being asked to join a rebellion against a facist dictator?
If someone asked you to join a coup against Adolf Hitler, would you?
There was one, as it happens. (She wrote a paper about it, many years ago, before leaving for Marthasville.) The 20 July plot, late in the war. A few brave souls plotted to kill Hitler, take over the government, and negotiate peace.
They failed.
Everyone involved either was executed, or killed themself to avoid execution.
If someone asked you to join a coup against Adolf Hitler, would you?
Terri speaks up. “Look, we all want to help win this war, right? Help keep Marthasville, the nation, humanity itself safe? I have a plan. We can do our part - do more than our part - and without risking violent, painful deaths.”
She opens her briefcase, and pulls out some manilla folders. “The government is desperate. Desperate for something I work with daily, something Steven and Catleia here study, something that our beloved, late Francisco spent his life working with: information. We, here, us six, are the only humans alive who have seen a witch and lived to tell the tale. We - us - and especially you , Ms. Noceda, have special, vital information that the government needs to know.”
She takes a breath. “I have a friend. A woman who worked at one of my companies, grew bored, and pivoted to defense. Now she’s in the Department of War. She’s willing to put us in contact with key figures like 3-star general Georgina McClellan.”
Terri begins handing out folders. “These are job offers. Ten thousand dollars a month for six months - with an option to renew - at a new company I’m organizing. We’re going to compile everything there is to know about the demon realm. And us six - and especially you, Ms. Noceda - know a lot.”
Cyrus frowns at his form. “Terri, how on earth did you get this arranged so quickly? Do you even have an appointment with someone?”
“The government moves slow, but I move fast.” She hands Catleia a folder full of long legal documents. One has “Becca responsible for work visa application” scrawled in the margin.
“Ms. Noceda, you’re key to this,” Terri continues. “You’re special. Nobody - nobody - nobody - knows more about magic than you do. I can get you in front of President Zelenskyy herself , and she will listen to you. Think of how much good you could do with that access.”
Luz isn’t even looking at her folder. She looks betrayed. “No… you can’t…”
Camila is quick to respond, walking over to her daughter and wrapping an arm around her shoulder. She speaks to Terri. “Yes, ma’am, we’ll take the money.”
“Mom- ”
“We’re taking the money, mija! Do you have any idea how much this is?”
Luz objects - in Spanish. They start arguing again, and this time, Terri starts interjecting. In Spanish.
Catleia’s head is spinning. She doesn’t want to risk her life on this kid’s absurd quest, but she can’t pass up a chance to study the magic that’s captivated her for so long. The idea of passing up on so much money makes her stomach hurt, but the idea of passing up on so much knowledge makes her heart hurt. Terri’s offer is filled with enticing safety, but also with predictable dullness.
Steve, on the other hand, is excited. “Oh man, oh man, oh man! Catleia, this is what I’ve been looking for! We’re not going to be anonymous callers waiting on hold, people are actually going to listen to us!”
“Are you kidding?”, Cyrus cuts in. “Listen to what? We first met Lillith and Odalia what, two weeks ago? We don’t know squat.”
Now they’re arguing. Catleia tunes all the shouting out. She still remembers that first day. Remembers how a witch named Odalia Blight had cast a spell emblazoning the Marthasville city seal onto a parking lot’s asphalt with impossible perfection. Catleia spent so long pestering the witch with questions.
She’d do anything for answers for those questions.
She’d also do anything for a job like Terri’s offer.
She’s deep in thought when she hears Terri say her name. “Catleia? I’m trying to explain to Ms. Noceda here precisely how much money is on the table.” Catleia walks over to them as Terri continues. (Camila is leaning against the building again.) “I’m offering ten thousand a month, for at least six months, for both you and your mom. That’s no less than one hundred twenty thousand dollars. Now, I hear that young people today worry a lot about paying for college-”
“Well, yes, but-”, Luz sputters.
“And I’m offering enough to pay for a four-year degree at the state school of your choice. Tuition, books, rent, food, everything. And this part of the country has excellent state schools. Catleia, where do you study?”
“Um, St. George’s Institute of Technology.”
“And would you call it world-class?”
“Well, that’s why I'm here…”
“Right. St. George’s students are geniuses, if I’m hiring and I see someone with that school in their resumè, I give them a second look. And if technology isn’t your thing, Ebony and the University of St. George have some of the finest liberal-arts programs in the country.”
“Terri, you don’t get it! This is more important than school! The fate of the world is at stake!”
(… it is, isn’t it?)
“So take time and think! Don’t do anything rash! Wait a few days, consider my offer, it’ll still be open!”
“We don’t know what could happen in a few days! The government could start watching us, or I might lose contact with Eda!”
(...yeah, the government here is paranoid and surveillance-happy, isn’t it?)
“She’s not on our side, Luz! She’s on their side!”
“No, no, no! You don’t understand! Why don’t any of you understand? The only sides here are Emperor Belos and- and- and everyone else! He killed all those people, he killed tío- ”
Her voice hitches again.
“And the witches are so diverse, just like us! Eda’s against the Emperor, so is Lillith, and so is everyone we'll tell the truth to! And you want to just sit in a cramped office, writing boring papers nobody cares out-”
“-I’ll make them care! They’ll be paying too much not to!-”
“-when we could be out there, making a difference, and end this war without killing anyone?”
(...Catleia does want to be ‘out there,’ doesn’t she? There’s an entire world out there, just waiting to be explored.)
Cyrus re-joins the conversation. “May the lord above help us all, the kid’s right. Be realistic Terri, there’s nothing we can say they won’t learn within a week. But if this crazy scheme works? Or only mostly works? We’ll have saved the nation. I’ve taken stupider bets.”
Steve follows. “Catleia, please. You have to see how nuts this all is. Don’t listen to her. As your roommate, as your friend, I’m begging you.”
(Camila is still leaning against the wall, resignation and fear on her face.)
Catleia Stolos makes her decision.
“I’m with you, Luz. Let’s take that Spasti out.”