There she is! She offers Bella a friendly wave.

Bella waves back, giving Libby an assessing look, and approaches nearer.

"Welcome to New York," she says, smiling slightly. Her voice is very similar to Chris's.

"Thank you. So far, it looks like an airport," Bella says.

"I assure you, the rest of the city is more than just a rumour."

"I have seen photographic evidence," Bella agrees. "Are we going somewhere, or having our chat at the baggage claim?"

"Unless you are intensely fond of this baggage claim, I was thinking maybe coffee," she says.

"I have been known to drink coffee, and this baggage claim and I are just friends," says Bella.

Bella orders something sweet and creamy and complicated and hot. "So," she says. "Here I am in person. What do your powers of observation tell you that you needed to know badly enough to buy me a plane ticket?"

"Patience is only a virtue when waiting is the best way to get something. There are often many other ways to get things, and even if waiting will work, one may as well spend one's waiting period thinking of other options."

"Reasonable," says Libby. "Right now, though, you want to know things only I can tell you, and the only way I'm going to do that is if I get a good enough sense of you to be sure you won't use it against me. So let's chat. I meant it about your goals in life, by the way. There's a lot of things you'll find a lot easier to accomplish with me as a friend."

"No burning desire to be President, join an internationally famous rock band, get a medical degree and cure a few cancers, any or all of the above...?"

"The jury's out on politics," Bella reiterates. "I play the flute. I'd've picked up guitar or something if I wanted to be in a rock band. Doctoring's not out of the question, though, I could still break in favor of pre-med."

"Personally, I think there should be more rock bands containing classically trained flute players, but maybe that's just me."

She smiles. "Should I keep you in mind in case I find a rock band looking for a flute?"

Bella shrugs. "I won't take it amiss if you do, but it does not constitute satisfying my fondest ambition or anything like that."

"I very rarely get to satisfy people's fondest ambitions," she says, "but once in a while I get to hook up the metaphorical rock band with their metaphorical flute player."

"What are some nonmetaphorical versions of this pastime?" Bella asks. "It sounds logistically interesting. Being a... networking locus." That description doesn't have the word "sinister" in it at all; Libby should be pleased.

"I find it very fulfilling, actually." She smiles again. "And I hope you'll forgive me if I don't say which one, but I have in fact introduced the members of at least one rock band to each other, and they're doing pretty well these days."

"Is this band," Bella asks, "a magic rock band? Or is that only a fraction of your activities?"

"Only a fraction."

"So the rest of it is just garden-variety... networking. Informal, I presume, no mailing list, no registering yourself as an LLC in Delaware, I suspect I'd have heard about it by now if you hosted mixers alternate Thursdays."

"Exactly," says Libby.

"And you sent Bridget to spy on me because you wanted me kept on your radar because... you think I might get in someone's way, or might be able to do things you and your friends would like done."

"I expect you to get in someone's way if I don't keep an eye on you," says Libby. "The question is whether you're going to have simple, ordinary goals that conflict with the simple, ordinary goals of one of my people, or at the opposite extreme, start setting cities on fire one day. I don't like it when people set cities on fire. It creates mess."

"I don't have any plans to set any cities on fire," Bella says honestly.

"Good to know," says Libby. "Keep it up."

"Why do you expect me to get in someone's way?"

"Because you're powerful, and 'someone' covers a very long list of people you could potentially inconvenience without ever knowing it. You could only manage not to get in anyone's way by being very unimaginative, and you don't strike me as unimaginative."

"No," says Libby.

"What, then?" Bella says, unfazed. False dichotomy is fun but it doesn't always work.

"You have the tightest anti-spying ward I've ever seen. For example."

"I don't like being spied on. I don't know if Bridget told you, I took it a bit amiss when I found out she'd been doing it." Bella sips her drink. "How did you see my anti-spying ward?"

"By trying to get around it, of course."

"Of course. But doesn't that strike you as a bit rude?"

"Sure it does. But I am absolutely willing to be rude if it will help me protect my people."

Libby raises her eyebrows. "Oh?"

"Yes, she was adamant that you were definitely oriented around being helpful to her and others in the network, and kept taking exception to the 'sinister' description."

"Why do you insist on calling me sinister?"

"Comes with the job," she says, unapologetically. "Someone has to make sure nobody destroys the world."

"How did you get this job?" Bella asks.

"I figured out that nobody else was doing it."

"And prior to that time, the world remained undestroyed," Bella points out.

"Lucky world," says Libby. "I'd rather not leave it to luck anymore."

"Have you averted many near-apocalypses, then?"

"You say that like you think it's funny," she observes.

"Even if I assume you began doing what you do sometime during elementary school, you've had two decades tops working on it. Did you take over from someone else? Has there been maybe one, more likely zero, arguable potential apocalypse you've been in a position to intervene with over that entire period? Are you operating in ignorance of other persons, forces, or organizations with the same goal who've been around longer than you? Are you using this as a cover to make yourself sound altruistic while you mostly work on something else? Is the world in negligible danger and you're paranoid? All of those possibilities are more likely than the world having always needed someone doing what you do and only having just recently gotten it, previously persisting only by luck."

"Anyone with the powers you or I have could easily cause massive widespread destruction if they happened to feel like it and no one was around to stop them," says Libby. "Are you going to argue with that?"

"So... because it's obvious that it hasn't happened yet, it's probably not going to happen in the future? I'm having trouble following your logic here."

"I arranged to find out when there are new mints," she says. "It was the obvious thing to do. By the way, counting you and your friend, and assuming there aren't any more that managed to hide from me, there are currently five."

"My friend?" Bella asks. That has to be Alice, but she doesn't want to give away anything about him right now. He is her secret weapon. "And - what, only five? In the world? Are you one yourself - are you any sort of magic yourself?"

"I'm a mint, yes, although I don't use it very often. If there are any more, they are either very well hidden or not on this planet at all."

"Why do you want to know?"

"Five is fewer than I expected. Maybe there's something the matter with your detector."

Bella half-lies. "Because it's so straightforward to make more mints. Anyone who wants anything even relatively pedestrian would have a motive to divvy up the minting between themselves and a reasonably trustworthy apprentice or three, who get the power in exchange for some fraction of the coins they generate. Mints should also live longer - curing diseases and so on, even if nothing else. Five. That's almost none. That's mints almost died out levels."

"True," says Libby. "And before you ask, it was like that when I got here."

"And you haven't made more yourself because you think they'd destroy the world?"

"I haven't made more myself because I want to be very, very careful about who I give that power to. I don't necessarily think they'd destroy the world, but the intersection of people who want to be mints with people I trust to be mints is not as large as you seem to think."

"If anyone has the wherewithal to sort through a lot of people I'd expect it to be you," Bella says.

"Of course I do," she says. "But on the other hand, I don't consider replenishing the world mint population—if it was ever more than five to begin with—very urgent."

"I found one, and asked very nicely," she says. "There was a certain amount of bribery involved. Mostly he wanted to know it was the only six I'd ever ask him to make. How about you?"

"Your mint detector doesn't tell you?" Bella asks.

"I know it happened on one of two possible dates, and your friend was the other one. I don't know who was first, where you got the powers in the first place, or who your friend in fact is, although I've got a few guesses about that last one."

"What makes you think I'm friends with the other mint?"

"The fact that you toured Europe together is a big clue."

"Maybe they're stalking me."

"If so, they're doing a much better job of it than I am. I think I'm jealous."

"Hey, I didn't know Bridget was a spy until you had her tell me. I'm clearly not the world's best stalker-detector."

"Bridget has the major advantage of not actually being the stalking type," says Libby. "If I wanted to send a professional spy after you, there were candidates available. But since I did hope you'd end up on friendly terms, it seemed like a good idea to send someone who would either make friends or give up."

"I do like Bridget, even though I was mad at her for the spying. She was a good pick," Bella says.

"Glad to hear it," she says. "I always like it when my guesses turn out right."

"If you don't even have enough fine detail to tell whether me or the other mint was first, how did you narrow it down enough to find out that I was one of the two?"

"You were the only person from Forks who went to Stanford this year."

"So you have, what, a map with pushpins on it that skate around?"

"And you didn't make these pushpins have post-it notes with names sprout from them - or you couldn't fit that into the size coin you used."

"Or something."

"Or it doesn't work on me," Bella acknowledges.

"Or something," she repeats, but she's smiling again.

Bella smiles. "I like it when spying does not work on me."

"I can tell," says Libby.

Bella laughs. "And you don't know who my stalker-or-friend-or-whoever is either, so it doesn't work on them either. So I guess the answer to the question about how your mint finder works is not all that well, if it fails on names for forty percent of mints it can even find."

"Feel free to make a better one."

"Might, but. It hasn't been a priority so far," Bella says.

"Oh, right," she says. "You're not worried about strange mints destroying the world. Not even the sinister ones."

"I'm not completely insensate to the risk, but have not yet decided to appoint myself Chief of the Secret Police."

"Good to know."

"Do you have any plans for the world besides not-blowing-it-up-or-letting-anyone-else-do-so?" Bella asks.

"Not particularly. Why, did you want it?" she jokes.

"Maybe in a few years, when you've demonstrated the necessary level of responsibility," says Libby. "Planets are like puppies that way."

"What's my goldfish-equivalent, then?" Bella asks.

"Good question. Any suggestions?"

"Australia," deadpans Bella.

"There is the slight problem that Australia already has a government."

"That does seem problematic. Oh well. I'll let you know if I think of anything else."

"You do that."

"Mars," suggests Bella idly.

"If you want Mars, you can have Mars."

"I wonder how squares are at long-distance conjuration, I haven't played with that really," muses Bella. "Could put a flag on it so I can prove I was there first if pesky astronauts appear."

"They have a range limit, and Mars is past it. You'd have to bump it up a notch."

"Good to know. What is the range limit?"

"A little more than the radius of the Earth."

"Interesting. I wonder why. Pentagon could manage Mars, if I wanted to spend one on frivolity?"

"I've never tried, but I bet it could."

"What else do you know about coins that I might not?"

"I could ask you the same question."

"I think you've been at this longer than I, though."

"True," she says. "But on the other hand, I don't know what you know. Except I'm pretty sure you've either been warned off sevens, never managed to make one, or haven't gotten around to using it yet."

"So far I haven't decided to solve any problems with coins that I couldn't handle with smaller ones," Bella says slowly.

"Don't use a seven," Libby recommends. "Even if it looks like a really good idea. They backfire habitually."

"Why is that?" Bella asks with tones of mild curiosity.

"I'm supposed to know?"

"Well, how did you hear this warning?"

"From a reliable source."

"And this reliable source didn't tell you anything about why? Aren't you at all concerned that they just didn't want anyone else to get to use heavy-duty magic?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Reliable reasons."

"Feel free to think so," she says. "But if you want to test it, may I suggest doing your experimenting on Mars? Less risk for the rest of us."

"These are big coins we're talking about. It would not be trivial to make an extra to test far away before using it for whatever my main project was."

"I'd pay your way to Mars and back," she offers.

This does actually bring Bella up short. "Okay, you either take this warning seriously, or you are willing to throw a lot of resources around making me think you do. Why won't you save yourself the trouble and tell me why you take it seriously?"

"I don't get the impression that 'I trust the person who told me' will carry much weight with you."

"It carries weight - in the sense that it moves the question a step further. Where did that person find out?"

"And we're back to square one."

"I'm trying to figure out why that would be a secret," muses Bella. "Would it harm the person who warned you if this fact were known in any more detail? I don't go around attacking people for issuing warnings, who would? Perhaps you just made a general promise not to spread the information, because... your warner is paranoid? You don't seem to be operating under a general principle of never sharing information, or never sharing information with me; only here and there. Maybe this is the wrong idea; maybe you don't know where the original warning came from, and you're... embarrassed to pay attention to a restriction that you don't know much about? Undertaking your own controlled experiments on an ongoing basis, and don't want me to know about it?" Bella pauses, like she's thinking of it for the first time. "Maybe the warning doesn't apply to everyone, and you don't think you'd like what I'd do with information about that, and you think I'd derive some if you were any more forthcoming."

"You're very thorough," says Libby. "Has anyone ever told you that? I bet they have."

"I'm not sure if the exact word has come up. And I'm sure I'm missing something. You're under a geas and cannot share the information because someone else has reasons of their own to keep it limited - you're trying to keep me occupied fussing about this to distract me from something else - someone has a reliable native power of prophecy and says there will be a rain of frogs if I learn the truth -"

Libby shrugs.

"Don't stop me if I get close, or anything, I might find myself inclined to like you and that would be awful."

"No rains of frogs," she says, helpfully.

"Oh, good, amphibians would be thematically inappropriate. I prefer cetaceans." Bella closes her eyes. "Is the person who told you still alive?"

"I suggest we move on to a topic you'll find less frustrating," says Libby.

"Do you think I would find moving on without knowing the answer less frustrating?"

"Less frustrating than spending an indefinite amount of time trying and failing to weasel it out of me? Yes."

"Fine," says Bella grouchily. "I'll find out some other way."

"You really don't like not knowing things," says Libby.

"I really, really don't," Bella agrees.

An apparent non sequitur: "Lazarus seems very convinced you don't want to destroy the world."

"Lazarus is not a stupid person," Bella says, "that's probably why."

"I don't disagree with him. But until I met you, I wasn't sure."

"Have you been comparing notes on me with Lazarus lately, then?"

"Mm?"

"Asking me disingenuous questions doesn't help your case."

"I realize that you have already thoroughly implied that you've been comparing notes on me with Lazarus, but English has a lot of phrasal curlicues to move conversations along that do things like retread past content," says Bella.

"So he hasn't mentioned anything about our conversation to you? I'm surprised."

"Either that, or I don't have his permission to reproduce the contents of our exchanges to third parties," Bella says pleasantly.

"I see," says Libby. "Maybe I should go ask him."

[You've come up in conversation with Libby,] Bella informs Lazarus. "What, right now?"

"I wasn't planning on it, no."

[Um?]

[I have no idea, I'm just generally nervous.]

"I noticed that, yes."

"So," Bella says conversationally, "should I just operate under the assumption that you can read everyone's email, or are you not quite that spy-ish?"

"I can read everyone's email. I usually don't."

"Do you read my email?"

"Nope."

"What about Lazarus's?"

"Once."

"Recently?"

"I bet you could guess when."

"So you've read some of my email. Just not from my end."

"Sure."

[Augh,] says Lazarus, very calmly.

"Yes we have."

"You could have just written Lazarus, or had Chris write him, and asked him for his assessment of my likelihood of blowing up the world," Bella says.

"I don't think Lazarus is a good enough judge of character to accurately tell."

"You wound up having to talk to me in person after all anyway," Bella points out. "What did your espionage net you?"

"Maybe it didn't. Maybe it was a bad idea."

"So you've seen the error of your ways, or you've decided I'm never going to drop the 'spying' thing and you should switch to 'lying' if you want to be friends, or you just think this exact instance was not worthwhile but your general policies are decently sound?"

"I'm open to considering that this exact instance might not have been worthwhile. I have a lot more faith in my general policies."

"Mm." Bella sighs. "It's lucky that I've been assuming someone could and might read my email for a while now."

"Of course you have."

"Yes. And I keep turning out to have been inadequately paranoid - Bridget being the best example - so I probably still need to dial that up."

"And yet, I note that your main complaint about me is that I am much too paranoid."

"My paranoia leads me to take defensive measures. Your paranoia leads you to take liberties with things that do not belong to you."

"We're defending different things," she says. "On very different scales."

"You don't exhaust less liberty-taking avenues before you do what you do, or I might round down to that being the only difference."

"What kinds of less liberty-taking avenues would you suggest?"

"You could have contacted me directly instead of sending Bridget and told me that I showed up on your Global Mint Radar and asked if I wanted to chat. You could even have done it from behind security like I have in case I flipped out. And if I did flip out, you could try something like Bridget covertly, and if I did not, you could have just interacted with me like a normal person. You could have told me about not using the heavy-duty coins much earlier, too, and if you'd like tests on those done on Mars? That seems like something you want mints to be told about at once, not months later."

"Doing any of those things involves assuming you are not already hostile," says Libby. "That's not a safe assumption to make."

"If I were any more trigger-happy than I actually am, you would have rendered me hostile by now," Bella says. "You can, as it stands, salvage the situation, and I am more than happy to let you try, but my hostility is not a static quantity that has nothing to do with whether you attempt any self-fulfilling prophecies about it. And that's what the security wishes are for."

"I don't need security wishes. But you already know that, because you are not a stupid person," says Libby. "My concern is for everyone else, not for me."

"You're safe; you're not invisible. You would protect the rest of your network by being defended against spying, that's what I meant - if attempts to magically learn about you bounced off, you couldn't be referred to by any wish that tried to learn about your friends and family. If you got a throwaway email address and no amount of throwing coins at the question would tell me anything about you that you didn't want me to find, then you'd look nervous, maybe, but not sinister."

"I'm tempted to turn any new mints I find over to you."

Bella chuckles. "Are you really? But you don't trust me, as you've repeatedly had to remind me."

"I started out not trusting you. Right now, I trust you enough to be having this conversation, which is a fair bit, let me tell you."

"How much? I mean, you're safe. I could be very dangerous to people in general and none too happy with you, and you'd still be safe. Native trumps."

"When I find someone I consider dangerous, I don't offer them information about important things that are secrets to most people. It just seems like a fundamentally bad idea."

"Fair enough. Although speaking of secrecy, I'm somewhat curious why you want to have this conversation in a coffee shop. I imagine most people would think we're talking about some manner of fiction if they listen to us at all, but you keep other seams in your operation snug enough that I'm surprised even that little hazard sits comfortably."

"We're covered," she says.

"Oh? How?"

"Anti-spying ward."

"Have you got one just generally? I don't know, you see, because I have never attempted to spy on you."

"I can't imagine why not."

"As a general rule, I do not spy on people. I might do it if I had a good reason, but I never default to it."

"Good to know," says Libby.

"I'd imagine. Are you going to answer my question?"

"Yes, I have an anti-spying ward."

"But you said mine was the best you've ever seen. Did I do a better job of wish-designing or did I throw more magic at it?"

"Guess again."

"You were trying particularly intrusive spying and ran into the edge of my brain? You weren't counting yours because it is not a ward you have encountered in the wild? Mine doesn't cover random people in coffeeshops and therefore has more juice to do everything else, so mine is only better within a limited context?" Bella guesses gamely.

"Not quite, but close," she says. "Mine is only active when I need it to be. It's not as pervasive as yours, but that's a feature, not a bug."

"I can see how that might be useful sometimes. It's not my style, though."

"Clearly."

Bella changes the subject. "How many people with native powers are there running around that I haven't heard about yet?"

"Lots," she says. "Or did you mean individually, not statistically? Not that many."

"I did mean individually. You've probably done a reasonable job of filtering them for being interesting."

"Yes I have," she says. "Tell me, if I decided to hand you all of my secrets on a silver platter, would you take that as a good reason not to use them against me?"

"That depends to a certain extent on what your secrets are and what you mean by 'against you'. If you have - I don't know, a minty little sweatshop where you coerce miserable third-world teenagers into making coins? That would be shitty, I would object. If you're asking whether being cagey is buying you some kind of insurance, like I'm going to be more inclined to not harm you if I think this might get me secrets, of course it isn't. By default I am not inclined to attack people. By default I am more positively disposed to people who tell me things worth knowing, and give me stuff I want." She shrugs. "And, if you decided to hand me your secrets on a silver platter, considering who we're talking about here, that would mean you were at least loosely sympathetic to my goals. Why would I want to antagonize sympathizers if I didn't have to?"

"Loosely sympathetic to whatever goals I imagine you have, because you haven't actually told me any big ones. Unless you really would like a planet for Christmas."

"Yes, well. I don't know what you'd do if I handed you all my secrets on a silver platter, but I'm happy to rule out hypotheses like 'Bella wants to blow up the world'."

"Bella does not want to blow up the world. That much is clear," says Libby.

"Anything else on the same list as 'blowing up the world' you'd like me to convince you I'm not interested in?"

"No, I think you're in the clear on that general score."

"Then clearly I am a safe repository for all your secrets," teases Bella.

"If only it worked that way."

"Yes, yes. What do you think would happen if you told me what you know about the population of natively magical folks you've encountered? Besides that I wouldn't have to decide whether to spend coins and time and effort on finding them myself."

"It's not inconceivable that you might decide to go pester some of them," she says. "Many of them do not appreciate being pestered. Some of the rest don't appreciate being talked about in general. Bridget is not the only person I know who has needed to be rescued from intensely curious people. The reasons I might not let you near my personnel lists are not strictly strategic."

"I won't pester anyone who doesn't want to be pestered. In fact, I'll take your word for it about who those people are," Bella says. "And naturally you may decline to spread information you've been asked to keep mum by its owner. What about the others?"

"Chris did a pretty good job of covering those. In fact, she even mentioned some of the please-don't-pester-me kind."

"Is there a word for people with native powers? ...Ingots?" Bella suggests.

"Ingots?"

"Natural magic as opposed to the artificial, minted kind," Bella says. "You've probably already got a word for it, though, right?"

"No. And I didn't come up with 'mints', either."

[Should I?]

"'Mints' is cute. And shorter."

"That would be one of those strategic secrets I don't plan on telling you until I'm sure you won't try to screw me over with it."

[Ingot is adorable. I'm sold,] says Lazarus.

Bella shrugs. "That one's just a personal curiosity anyway; I still have to operate under the assumption that you can acquire coins either way. So no big deal."

"Well, that's nice."

"Apparently so."

"So I've met the interesting ingots who might want to meet me, I guess. How hard have you looked? I notice the ones I've met are all, you know, white English-speakers. That seems odd."

"I take it you haven't talked to Kolya, then."

"Not so I'd know what crayons to use." Libby's quite equipped to know that Kolya once sent Bella an email using Lazarus's account, though. "Even so, it's an odd demographic."

"You've met two at the crayon level that I know of," she points out. "Hardly enough to draw statistical inferences. For the record, with a larger sample size, the distribution seems pretty even."

"Yeah, Lazarus described himself - well, he relayed Kolya's description. And Chris is your aunt, which gives me somewhat more than fifty percent information about her, now I've seen you," Bella says. "Fair enough. Are ingots scattered around the globe as well as the crayon box?"

"Yes they are. Although I'm somewhat limited in getting to know them by the fact that I speak mainly English."

"Languages aren't your top priority for the use of pentagons, then?"

"Not usually. Why, are they yours?"

"I've used more pentagons on languages than on anything else," Bella says. "I like 'em. And I did travel around Europe last summer."

"You seem to use magic a lot more frequently than I do," Libby observes.

"Unfortunately for me, I don't have those kinds of accidents."

"Yes, but we've established you don't want to tell me how you get any coins whatever under your circumstances. Me, if I fall down the stairs, I will get beat up."

"How convenient for you," she says dryly.

"It really is! It would be a pity if I were Bridget. She'd be a terrible mint, since bootstrapping doesn't work."

"She would, at that."

"Advised by whom?"

"Lazarus. I believe he finds your aunt unnerving."

"Chris has that effect on people."

"You're not laughing at him and offering me your hand, so I'm going to assume he was right."

"I won't take exception to you asking, but I also won't say yes, and if I did I would pick a less public location in case someone got the wrong idea."

"Anti-spying ward doesn't cover that, then? But all right, sure, not everyone invincible is going to be as cooperative about playing with it as Bridget."

"Maybe once I get to know you better," she deadpans.

"Fair enough."

"Any other nosy questions?"

"Would it net me any interesting secrets if I volunteered to occasionally serve as an interpreter-who-already-knows-about-magic between you and ingots overseas?" Bella asks thoughtfully. "Since I have some languages. I don't want a full-time job while I'm in school, and if you need translations done while I'm in class you might just need to burn squares for temporary competence in French or whatever, but as long as we're being friendly and could use a basis for more opportunity to get to know each other..." She shrugs.

"Good idea," says Libby. "What languages do you speak?"

Bella names... most of them. "Most of the major Romance languages, German, Greek, Arabic, Russian, Polish, Turkish, Hindi, and Mandarin. And, you know, English and Python and Lisp and stuff."

"I don't need German," she says. "And I already know an interpreter who knows about magic and speaks Russian. But you might be more convenient than Lazarus now and then."

[No I don't,] says Lazarus. [I mean, I do translation work, but not for Libby.]

[Are you sure?]

[I think I would've noticed.]

[Probably,] he agrees. [I am an interpreter, that much is true.]

"I think I'll leave that an open question for now."

"You're not very patient, are you."

"Nope. I am not."

"That's a little inconvenient."

"For whom?"

"Both of us, really. If you were very patient, I could just tell you that if you hang around me long enough, you'll pick up plenty of secrets, and that would be that."

"Even if I were very patient, I might not believe you if you told me that," Bella points out.

"If you were very patient, you might be willing to wait and see."

"I'm not seeing it," Bella says. "I don't think Bellas come in 'patient'."

"Like I said," says Libby. "Inconvenient."

"I'm sure my other scintillating qualities make up for it, though," Bella says earnestly.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I think you're perfectly charming on a personal level."

"And on a personal level, apart from all the irritating secrecy and so on, I think you're lovely company as well," Bella returns.

"Irritating but lovely. You know, I can't say I get that a lot."

"No? I get called charming and impatient all the time."

"I am not surprised."

"So you have a doctorate in math, right?" Bella asks, out of productive magic talk for the time being.

"Yes I do."

"Do you recommend grad school generally? I hear mixed reviews of the pastime."

"Try it and see. It's the only way to know."

"It occurs to me to ask, why do you want the answer to that question to be 'nothing'?"

"So you think you know the answer is that they're my friend, rather than that they're my stalker and have been just as good at hiding themselves from me," observes Bella. "I'd want to know what you knew either way, you realize. If they're my friend I want to patch security holes and if they're my stalker I want to know who the hell is stalking me."

"On the other hand, if they're your stalker, you have no motivation to phrase that as an if."

Bella shakes her head. "If they're my stalker, maybe I want to give off the impression that I have a powerful friend because I don't quite trust you - or I want to learn more about how you think - or I don't want to admit outright I can't handle them on my own - or we used to be friends and I'm not comfortable turning on them yet - or I want to be their friend and I want to snap 'em up before you do - or any number of reasons."

"They're your friend," says Libby. "Good odds they live in Forks. In your opinion, how likely are they to destroy the world?"

"Do I strike you as likely to be friends with someone who is liable to destroy the world?" Bella asks.

"Are you evading because you really don't want to admit to the friend part, or because they are more likely to destroy the world than you are and you don't want me finding that out?"

Bella rolls her eyes. "Oh, fine. We're friends. More likely? Yes. Likely? No." She pauses. "Because it would make me upset, more than for other reasons, if you're ever tempted to remove me."

"Noted," says Libby. "Thank you."

"I would be very displeased if my friend were removed," Bella adds gravely. "Likewise."

"I'd figured that much out for myself," she says dryly. "I don't plan to remove your friend. But I would be very happy if you continued to keep their destructive tendencies to a minimum."

"Yes, that is one of my primary aims in how I conduct our friendship," Bella says peaceably. "I also have a plan for - Oh, hm." She frowns. "Come to think of it, there is a flaw in my plan for how to deal with a rogue friend, but I will replace it."

"I'm definitely not going to ask about that one," she says. "Because unlike you, I am not indiscriminately curious."

"Thank you," says Bella politely.

"How did you two become mints?"

"You found a pair of sixes," she translates. "Or one six, which you took a while to duplicate."

[...Dare I ask what the original plan was?]

[Yes. It's safe to say that any plan that involves taking away one of Alice's senses is not going to work. Also, why do you have a plan for what if Alice goes rogue? Is he likely to?]

"Cute," says Libby. "What do you call the others?"

"Stars," she repeats. "I like it."

[Maybe,] says Lazarus. [His power wouldn't prevent it, anyway. Do you need direct physical contact...? Yes, I guess you do. What about when you make coins?]

[Can you make a wish directly, without coining it first?]

"It certainly is now that you mention it."

"Because they are," says Libby.

"Have you used one?"

"I do wish you'd stop trying to pry information out of me that I don't want to give you."

[Can coins break?] he wonders next, somewhat distracted from the original subject.

"You've made that very clear."

[I am somewhat worried about what would happen if I managed it,] he says. [And no.]

[Sure!] he says. [One sec, though, cookies.]

"Because I don't think I missed any mints," says Libby.

"You keep pushing this idea," she says. "Why?"

[Cookies are tasty. Broken coins are not tasty. What do I even try? I could hit one really hard with a hammer, I guess.]

[Sure thing. What's all this about, anyway? Just thought of it and wanted to know?]

"If all mints are as reluctant to make more mints as the mints I know, and there weren't that many to begin with, five is a pretty reasonable number."

"I'd really rather you didn't," says Libby. "Failing that, I'd really rather you did it cautiously. You are, as you've mentioned, insufficiently paranoid."

"Caution is a definite yes," Bella agrees.

"Good to know. I don't suppose there's any chance you'll run your candidates by me?"

"It'll depend on the candidate, I imagine," Bella shrugs. "You're not introducing me to all your friends."

"You're not claiming special expertise in judging people, and I'm not doing anything that might need it."

"Well," Bella says. "I don't have anyone in mind right now. Perhaps I will never run across such a person."

[Hammer doesn't do it,] Alice reports. [Neither does a hex.]