The problem was that she couldn’t get it to stop.
Chronos closed her eyes, remembering the time she had felt cheated. The time she had learned
that, if she’d just known earlier, she could have had a way to turn off her powers, if only
temporarily, if only short-term.
She would have taken temporarily and short-term.
Her parents had asked her to search for futures of specific people, strangers in some sort of
powerful position who could be blackmailed overseas. Her sister was the one who excel ed at that,
and who actually enjoyed doing it, but Chronos’s parents had insisted that she should learn to do it,
too.
“The two of you would be the most amazing team the family has ever known,” they’d told her, “if
you’d just learn to work together!”
But Chronos, who was known for her rebelliousness and uncooperativeness, had just answered
rudely.
Still, because she’d had some grudging desire to please her parents, she’d put some small effort
into it while grounded in her room. If nothing else, she’d had some mild curiosity about their
targets, and it had turned out to be justified.
One of the targets had been a member of their greatest rival, the Deathwaves. A born mage family of great power and villainy.
And one of the target’s futures had been that his seven-year-old daughter would turn into a
magical girl.
Chronos lifted her fist and smashed it down into the pillow beside her. The rage she’d felt then
was still strong now. She’d always been told that born mages couldn’t be magical girls. That the
two magic systems were natural enemies. That that was why born mages and magical girls
couldn’t coexist.
And it had been a lie. Everything her extended family believed in had been a lie.
Once she’d known to look for it, she’d searched for other futures like it, and there had been dozens
of them. Born mage magical girl futures littered the world. Most were born mage girls with such
weak powers that they didn’t even realize they were born mages, yet the results were always the
same. In every future, the two magic systems coexisted. More than coexisted: they could hybridize
together.
In other words, if she’d had magical girl powers, she could have used them to control her born
magic talent.
And it had been too late then, because she’d been too old to become one.
Two decades later, long past the point when she would have been able to keep magical girl powers
in any case, it still stang. Perhaps she would never have succeeded — it was likely, as she’d never
been particularly innocent — but she had been robbed of the opportunity to try.
Chronos shook her head, reminding herself that brooding on that memory had never
accomplished anything except to put her in a sour mood. The past had never gotten her anything.
The future didn’t seem much better, though.
Uneasily, Chronos checked the alternate possibilities. There were hundreds of them. Thousands
of them. Mil ions of them. All sorts of other paths the future could take. All sorts of ways the
world would be safe. And yet . . .
And yet, Chronos thought, it’s getting more likely every single day.
She knew that after that press conference, after that scene she had just witnessed, there were no futures remaining where the world would be safe. But it was three and a half years in the future.
Plenty of time for something to derail it.
Except that it had been growing for two years now, and nothing had yet.
Chronos opened her fists and watched the scene she knew would happen two months after that
press conference. In her hands lay a transparent landscape, a cityscape of broken buildings and a
shattered moon strewn across the sky. There would normally be sound, too, but there were no
sounds in this scene. There was nobody left to speak.
Chronos moved her hands and flicked back to the press conference, then flicked back further than
that. Brazil’s ultimatum. Cream Angel changing to Avenging Angel. Green Fairy dying.
She could do all this in her head, but she preferred to watch the images with her eyes and hear the
noise with her ears. It felt more divorced from her thoughts that way. Less intrusive and
unwelcomely intimate.
Their fifth arch-villain. The founding of the Magical Girl Union. Kendra deciding not to go to
college. Their fourth arch-villain. Flick. Flick. Flick.
And then at last, she couldn’t flick anymore. She had gone as far back as she possibly could.
That’s the present, Chronos thought, touching the transparent image with her fingertips. Or only
seconds away from it.
The fifteen-year-old girl who would destroy the world in three years lay fast asleep. She seemed so
innocent and peaceful, compared to what she would one day be.
“Why?” Chronos muttered, even though she knew no one would hear her. “Why is this your
future? What would cause someone to do such a thing?”
She waited, watching with narrowed eyes, but there were no answers in the present, and the past
was inaccessible to her. So she flicked forward to the future, surveying tomorrow.
“Oh, so you want me to be a washed up, former magical girl whose life revolves around her glory
days?” a brown-skinned girl with dreadlocks was asking bitterly. “You want me to be like your
mother? ”
The fifteen-year-old Kendra leapt to her feet. “YOU TAKE THAT BACK!”
The fifteen-year-old girl with dreadlocks hopped up out of her chair and headed towards the exit.
“Whatever. I’m late for track.”
Chronos stopped the scene and tapped her fingers on her sheets.
Trying to figure out why was a fool’s errand. She didn’t want to spend that much time watching
somebody else, either. She was a hermit because she didn’t want to spend time with people, and
watching their futures qualified.
Unfortunately, she didn’t have a choice when she was asleep.
Chronos’s fingers stilled.
Maybe, she thought, maybe . . . if I stop it . . .
Maybe then she would be able to sleep without that dream recurring constantly and driving her
insane.
Her sister’s methods were out of the question, of course. She’d never killed anyone, and she had
no intention of starting.
But . . . Chronos thought, a conversation . . .
She grimaced at the thought of it. She hadn’t left the apartment in two years. She paid someone to
deliver groceries to her doorstep, and anything else she needed, she left a note for that person to
buy it with the money.
Money had never been a problem. She’d day-traded stocks for a few weeks several years ago.
Chronos sighed heavily, and got out of bed. Unpleasant as the prospect was, she couldn’t think of
any other way to make the nightmares stop. Besides, the end of the world seemed like a relatively
unpleasant thing.
I wonder, she thought, could one conversation solve anything?
Chapter Two: The Present
Kendra was bursting with pride. She’d had a fantastic idea that she could hardly wait to explain to
her teammates. After last night’s terrible battle, she had figured out exactly what the problem was
with their team and what they needed to do to fix it. Florence might object, but she was fairly
certain that she could persuade her. And Felicity . . . well, Felicity was easily persuaded b
y anything.
The trick would be convincing Florence. Kendra’s best friend had been very unreceptive about the
same idea a year ago. But this time, Kendra was sure she could make her see the necessity.
Florence walked in through the entrance she usually arrived at.
“Hey, Flo!” Kendra called, walking briskly over and waving. She fell into step with her best friend,
acting casual as if she hadn’t arrived fifteen minutes early and been waiting there this whole time
for her. “I wanna talk about something. About the battle last night. We have . . .”
“Shhhhhh!” Florence hissed, glancing around at the crowded hallway.
Kendra let out an exasperated sigh. “If anyone listens in, I’ll erase their short-term memory.
Anyway . . .”
“Or maybe you could just not say things like that at school!” Florence hissed in a strangled voice.
Kendra snorted in annoyance. Lately, not using magic had been her best friend’s favorite pastime.
Florence should never have joined that track team. Kendra had warned her that it would take away
from their magic girl time, but no . . .
“Kendra! Florence!” an excited voice shouted. Kendra glanced over to see Felicity dashing down
the hallway, brown ponytail bouncing behind her. “Wasn’t that the greatest battle last night?”
Florence threw her hands up in the air.
“The part where I powered up because of my love for Daniel, eeeeeeeeeeee!” the girl squealed,
squeezing her hands into fists and jumping up and down. She made no attempt to moderate her
volume. “I knew it was true love! Only true love could make me power up, right? Daniel and I are
destined to be together!”
“Which is why you have the nerve to say that in public, in front of dozens of people, but you
haven’t yet worked up the nerve to say anything to him?” Kendra asked cool y.
Felicity’s face turned red. “I — I’ll tell him! I’ll tell him today!”
“Would you two stop talking about these things at school?!” Florence exclaimed.
“Uh huh,” Florence muttered.
Of course, he’s probably figured it out already, Kendra thought, glancing at her ditzy teammate’s
backpack. In permanent marker, all over it, she had written things like Felicity + Daniel, Felicity
and Daniel 4-EVER, one great big heart with DANIEL in the center, and of course Felicity
Frankweiler all over the place, which was Daniel’s last name.
Really, if the boy hadn’t figured it out by now, he was as clueless as Felicity, who seemed to think
her stalker-crush was some sort of secret. Then again, if he was as clueless as Felicity, they
probably belonged together, and she should get that whole “confessing her love” thing out of the
way already.
Kendra was almost, sorta jealous. She hadn’t had a guy she’d liked since . . . well, since their first
year as magical girls. But really, she’d been busy with more important things.
Felicity giggled. “It’s only been a year since our last power-up, and already I have another one!”
Florence ground her forehead into the palms of her hands.
Kendra felt a flash of irritation. It was true, Felicity had managed to power up, and she was
relatively proud of her teammate and all that. But it had been a very minor power up — her focus
item and costume hadn’t even changed — and the battle had been horrible in every other way.
Kendra cleared her throat. “We started with an old attack that hasn’t worked since our arch-
minions upgraded. I wouldn’t call that ‘great.’”
“I got a power-up because of Daniel! ” Felicity squealed, hugging herself.
“Would you stop saying ‘power-up’ at school?” Florence griped. “It’s like you don’t even care if —”
Kendra cast a sharp glance off to the side, and caught someone hovering beside a locker listening in
on them. Without thinking, she flung her arms upwards and shouted, “Cream Angel, fledge! ”
She launched into the air, hovering just below the ceiling as gigantic feathered wings sprouted
from her back. Now everyone in the hall was watching, but that was fine, because they wouldn’t
remember any of this in a minute. Kendra grabbed the golden ring of a halo off her head and spun
it around her wrist.
“Cream Angel, memory erase!” she shouted.
The eyes of everybody in the hallway went glazed.
Satisfied, Kendra dropped down, detransforming at the exact moment that her feet touched the
floor. She lowered her arms with effortless grace and just a hint of smugness. This was why she’d
taken ballet for all those years — to learn to detransform perfectly. Magical girls who stumbled
looked so uncool.
“Thank you so much,” Florence hissed furiously. “That’s exactly what I was hoping you would do
right here in the hallway.”
Kendra rol ed her eyes. “Three years ago, you would have asked me to.”
“Wel , she did thank you,” Felicity said earnestly.
The eyes of everyone around them returned to normal, and conversations and walking resumed
as if nothing had ever interrupted them. Kendra waited until the student who had been listening
in had walked off.
Satisfied at last that it was safe to talk again, she said, “Now, about the battle last night —”
“I powered up!” Felicity squealed.
“What part of ‘secret identity’ do you two not understand?” Florence asked incredulously.
“Oooooooh, what’s Daniel going to say when I finally tell him? ” Felicity squealed, hopping up and
“What secret identity?” Kendra asked dryly. “We don’t shapeshift when we transform. My parents
designed our costumes. We’re officially registered with the government. If it weren’t for my short-
term memory eraser, the entire town would . . .”
“Yes, yes, I know, I’m very grateful that you have it,” Florence said testily.
“Why don’t you make a power like that yourself?” Felicity asked helpfully, bouncing up and down.
“Next time you power up?”
“Oh, because that’s so easy,” Florence said in an undertone, glancing around the hall with a
paranoid eye.
Felicity giggled. “You just have to fall in love again, and —”
“We’ll talk about that later!” Kendra broke in, anticipating the firestorm of her friend’s rage if the ditz finished that sentence. Florence’s last relationship had ended very, very badly. As in, “the guy
had turned out to be a villain in disguise” badly.
Sure enough, Florence looked very grumpy. “If you tell the rest of the track team I spend my
weekends dressed like a cheerleader, you’re dead,” she muttered.
This was a safer subject, and besides, it was a silly objection. Kendra’s parents had designed their
costumes, but Florence herself had insisted on fluffy pink. “You didn’t mind your costume three
years ago —” Kendra began.
“Three years ago, I was twelve,” Florence cut in. “Besides, that was before we developed ‘frills of
justice.’ What, would you rather I acted like Felicity?”
“Gasp!” Felicity shouted. She didn’t gasp — she said the word out loud. “If I saved Daniel from a
minion sometime, do you think he’d fall in love with my magical girl form?”
“Again! ” Florence cried. “Secret —!”
“Oh no!” Felicity howled and burst into sobs. “If that happened, that would create a love triangle,
and he’d never l
ook at normal me again!”
Watching their third teammate dissolve into hysterical sobs over nothing, Kendra’s eyes
narrowed. “You have a point,” she said.
“No kidding,” Florence agreed, walking away.
***
Chronos loitered outside the building, waiting for the school bell to ring. She knew that it would
happen in eighteen seconds, so she counted down the seconds impatiently.
The idea of school bells seemed foreign to her, though she had seen them in many other people’s
futures. She had never been to any sort of school; her family had had its own way of doing things,
and that way had not included letting governments know their children existed.
Chronos had grown up her whole life being told about the terrible anti-born mage discrimination
laws, and the fact that ordinary humans would hate her for being superior if they knew about her.
Most of her family’s work during her childhood had involved blackmailing and bribing politicians of the Greek government to have those laws repealed. They had succeeded so well that Greece was
now infamous as a haven for villains.
The bell rang, and Chronos glanced down at her watch, although she didn’t need to be told that it
was 3:15. The futures were swirling and settling now. The future Avenging Angel would walk out
the door in one minute . . . no, three . . . no, two . . .
Doors burst open and students poured out. Chronos flinched and reeled back as the futures
assaulted her.
There was a popular girl kissing three different boys during the same night. The glimpses at first
seemed like three separate futures, but they weren’t. Busy girl. There was a shy freckled teenager
whose unlikely futures included dying in a car accident and becoming a singing magical girl. Four
boys from the basketball team walked past, likely to win the state championship. A surly grumpy
girl walked past, and Chronos saw her squealing with joy over her cat.
Dozens of futures. Hundreds of futures. All of them irrelevant. All of them unwanted. Bam. Bam.
Bam. Bam. It had been so long since Chronos had had to deal with a crowd, she was
overwhelmed. She closed her eyes and clutched her head, and —
A flash of the Wings of Justice appeared.
Chronos’s eyes flew open. Now coming out of the door were Kendra and her two teammates.