When in New York [2]

“Caro, do you even know how to read that?” Maggie asked me, her tone all bemused and very much an indication that she was humouring me. She does that a lot.

I scowled at her. “It’s a map, Mags. It can’t possibly be any more difficult than the Tempe bus lines.” Except it was. Granted, most of that was because I was not used to these streets like I was back home, and I had no idea where we were or where we were going.

Maggie, kindly, said nothing.

I decided a spell might be useful. It was sort of a tracking spell, but not – it took where you were and where you were going, and marked them on the map, with a little shimmering line to mark your route. It worked with bus maps, when I could get it to work. I hoped desperately I could get it to work this time, too.

A moment and a few murmured words later, I yelped and dropped the map as it caught fire.

“Well,” Maggie said mildly, “I suppose that could have gone better.”

“Shut up.”

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