Stray Souls (Magicals Anonymous) by Kate Griffin

okay?”
    A shadow moved against the blackness, then crossed into the faint light cast through a shattered window. She saw a hint of dirty coat, a mess of dark hair and, somehow, a flash of too-bright blue eyes, impossible in the gloom. “There used to be something here,” he murmured. “When you came in here in the dark, it was the thing that guided your hand to the switch. When the machines failed, it was the tick before the bang that told you to get out of the way. When men said, ‘Wasn’t that lucky?’ the thing, whatever it was, laughed and knew there was no luck. It used to be here, and when all else failed, it kept the beggars warm by the fire and made sure the ashes didn’t quite go out and the wind through the window didn’t reach every corner. Do you understand what I’m talking about?”
    “No,” blurted Sharon, still holding her bag to her, tense as a samurai ready to fight. “Sorry, no.”
    The shadow sighed, ran a gloved hand under a badly shaven chin–and there it was: a tingling at the back of her teeth, a sensation on the air, a smell like metal trying to burn, just for a second, before it too became lost behind that blue-eyed stare.
    “You have to find out what happened to the dog,” he said. “It’s important.”
    The words took a while to digest. Then,
“What?”
    “I’d do it for you,” he went on, “but there’s… things. Politics, mostly, but also… it’s not really my field, you see? I mean, fire, flood, electrical damage, earth splitting in two, no worries, but this… And there aren’t many of you, there never have been, it requires such a special state of mind. And I imagine you’ve got a lot to do, so please believe me when I say it’s important. It’s more than important. It’s the single most important thing you’ll do. I mean, I’m told that childbirth is considered kind of the big thing in a woman’s life, something we’re probably not going to understand, but otherwise, please believe me when I say that there is nothing you can possibly do more vital to the well-being of the city than finding out what happened to the dog.”
    Silence.
    Then, “You don’t know many women, do you?”
    If it was possible for a facial expression to speak, then even in the darkness his face was a fluent conversationalist. Finally, “Okay, so the childbirth thing maybe wasn’t—”
    “Also,” she said, “there’s this thing called email? If you wanted to talk to me about death and destruction and stuff, then you could’ve tried that. Or even buying me a cup of coffee or lunch or something. I mean, it could’ve been professional, but all this… kind of blows it. Who are you? You weren’t at the meeting.”
    “No,” he admitted. “But I had someone keep an eye out. And actually, while my initial instinct was rather… Well, perhaps on reflection I can see what you’re trying to achieve. And I’m sorry about the lunch thing, I really am, but there’s people watching and emails are monitored, and I do respect what you’re trying to do, although…” His voice rose in indignation. “Although starting a Facebook group called Weird Shit Keeps Happening to Me and I Don’t Know Why But Figure I Need Help is not, may I just say, the best way to go about making friends. And did you have to call it Magicals Anonymous? Couldn’t you have started a group called something like… I don’t know… Self Help for the Polymorphically Dubious? or No Chanting Please or something a little less… in your face? Is that too much to ask?”
    Sharon thought, then exclaimed, “Yes! Yes, it is too much to ask. Because I’m sorry, I know I keep coming back to this point, but who the hell are you and what the bloody hell is going on?”
    The man sighed again. “Did I mention the politics?”
    “Yeah, but that sounded to me like something you say whenever you just want to blame other guys for you being crap.”
    “I do not; that is totally…” He hesitated, mid-indignate. Then,