The custodians had been waxing the floors at this level, and the smell of polish was strong as we walked toward the open door of Rachel’s office. We found her seated behind her desk, face buried in a big, old-looking book. Although an awful lot of written material has been turned into easy-to-read electrons these days, Rachel once explained to me that most of the old magical texts still only exist in paper form. When I’d asked why, she’d said, “Not enough of a market. The people with the skills don’t have the interest, and the people with the interest don’t usually have the skills. Besides,” she’d said with a light laugh, “there’s such a thing as tradition. Not to mention safety.”

“Safety?”

“Sure. I’d hate to be in the middle of a tricky conjuration and have the battery of my Kindle pick that precise moment to fail.”

Rachel looked up as we came in. I got a quick smile, but when she turned to look at Karl, the smile faded and her expression became unreadable.

As we approached, Karl said, “Hey, Rachel.”

Rachel nodded slowly. “Karl.” She pushed her desk chair back and stood up.

The witch and the vampire looked at each other for three or four seconds, before Rachel broke the silence. “I hardly know what to say, Karl. I’m certainly relieved to see you, although Stan called me as soon as he knew that you were back among the living. Well, not the living, but…”

“I know,” Karl said.

Rachel brushed a couple of stray hairs out of her face. “I just… I’m sorry that my skills let you down, Karl. If it’s any consolation, I spent most of today in gut-twisting uncertainty, until I heard you were OK.”

“It doesn’t make me feel better that you had a miserable day, Rachel,” Karl said gently. “Why would I want that? I’m not mad. You did the best you could with a brand-new spell – and, hey, the darn thing worked, didn’t it?”

“It worked, but less than perfectly,” she said.

Karl shrugged. “Perfection’s a pretty high standard. If everybody used that one, most of us would come up short. The spell did what it was supposed to – kept me going long enough to work a little Influence on Mister Slattery.”

“Yes, Stan said you had been successful, but didn’t go into detail. Maybe that part’s none of my business?”

“You’ve been with us through most of this mess,” I said to her. “No reason to keep you in the dark about the rest.”

I told her what Slattery had said, and briefly mentioned some of the possible implications we’d discussed with McGuire. When I was done she shook her head slowly. “Patton Wilson. I should’ve known.”

“We all should’ve,” I said. “But you know what they say about hindsight.”

“Yeah, looking out your ass is always 20/20,” she said. “Now that you know he’s the guiding hand behind all the recent hurly-burly, what are you going to do about it?”

“We’re still working on that,” Karl said.

“Rachel, I agree with Karl that we oughta be grateful the spell worked as well as it did,” I said. “But have you figured out why it didn’t last the whole day, like it was supposed to?”

“This is an area where actual data is scarce,” she said. “But I have a theory.”

“Theorize away,” I said.

“It comes down, in a word, to stress,” she said. “The spell was already putting considerable strain on Karl, since it had him going against his vampire nature by remaining conscious after sunrise. And then, on top of that, he’s confronted by that oaf with the crucifix.”

She turned to Karl with a grin. “Congratulations on the way you dealt with that, by the way. Strong work.” She stood up and stuck out her hand.

Karl’s grin was a mirror of her own as they shook. “Thanks – but nobody was more surprised than I was. I should call Doc Watson, let him know his therapy passed the acid test.”

“I’d like to talk with you about that sometime,” Rachel said. “The therapeutic process, I mean.” She turned back to me. “Facing that cross, especially in the assertive manner he did, must have put more strain on Karl than even his resilient vampire system could handle. So the spell was broken, and Karl instantly reverted to his natural – or, rather, supernatural – state.”

“I returned to life and found out that we still had the same problems as before,” Karl said. “The vampire gang war, the Patriot Party trying to take over, a bunch of Slide-addicted supes knocking over grocery stores…”

“That reminds me, Rachel,” I said. “You were looking into ways that magic might help with the Slide problem. Any luck yet?”

Rachel ran her hand over a face that looked like it would have benefited from a good night’s sleep. Of course, I was pretty sure you could’ve said the same about mine. The only one of us who’d had any rest lately was Karl, and his was involuntary.

“On that front, I can report good news and bad news,” she said. “Mostly bad.”

“I could use some good news right now, even a little,” I said. “So let’s start with that.”

“OK. Well, since Slide is a drug that affects only supernaturals, it is particularly susceptible to manipulation by magic. I’ve been able to develop a spell which neutralizes its effects. From what you’ve told me, there’s a hallucinogenic phase, followed by a wave of euphoria, right?

“That’s what the addicts say.”

“Well, I’ve been able to render the small samples you gave me into something that should cause nothing but a mild headache, which is nobody’s idea of fun.”

“Rachel, that’s fantastic!” I said

She made a face. “No, it’s not.”

Karl and I looked at each other, then he said to Rachel, “Sounds like there’s something here we don’t know about.”

“On the contrary,” Rachel said. “I’ve told you all there is to know about my experiments with the stuff. What you’re not getting is that my results have no practical value.”

I thought for a few moments, then told her, “I think I see where you’re going with this.”

“Well, I’m not too bright,” Karl said, “so I wish somebody would fucking explain it to me.”

“What I can do in my workroom doesn’t affect what’s going on out in the street, Karl,” Rachel said. “I can hardly expect the… dealers, pushers, whatever they’re called, to drop by so that I can render their product useless before they go out and sell it. From their perspective, it would be a pretty bad business decision, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh,” Karl said, followed a moment later by “Shit!”

“OK, it was worth a try,” I said. “Thanks for giving it a shot, Rachel. Guess we’ll have to deal with the Slide problem the old-fashioned way – by busting the dealers and trying to squeeze them into giving up their suppliers.”

“Except we can’t bust the fucking dealers,” Karl said, “cause the shit they’re selling isn’t even illegal – yet.”

“Well, yeah, there’s that,” I said.

“I sympathize with your plight, guys,” Rachel said, “and I only wish…” Rachel stopped speaking, and I saw that she had a faraway look in her eyes, like somebody who’s trying to think of three things at once. She dropped back into her chair, as if her knees had suddenly given way.

“Rachel? Are you alright?” I asked.

She didn’t reply for a few seconds. “Me? I’m fine – apart from being a total fucking idiot, that is. Leave that out, and I’m doing just great.”

I looked at Karl, and it was clear that he didn’t know what was going on, either.

“Sympathize,” Rachel said. “I told you that I sympathize with your plight.”

“Uh, yeah,” I said, just to be saying something.

“Sympathetic magic!” She slammed her small fists down on the desk’s polished surface. “That’s the fucking answer. Dear Goddess, I ought to have myself committed to an institution for the terminally stupid!”

“Rachel,” Karl said, it’d be good if you’d stop beating yourself up long enough to tell us what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“Alright, sure,” Rachel said. The distracted look on her face was gone, replaced with something that looked to me like triumph.