The dojo was a short walk away, my feet carrying me quickly as the need to hurry drove my pace. Wilding Springs was quiet around me, lights shining from houses in the neighborhood, mostly coven owned these days. I waved at a pair of young witches walking a baby in a stroller, but didn't have time to stop and chat.

By the time I reached the back door of the dojo almost ten minutes of my thirty allotted had passed. I barely lifted my hand to ...