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"Means someone," says Isabella. "Witches might laugh if you introduce yourselves to them that way."

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"You're not laughing," he observes.

"What's the joke?" inquires Petaal from the comfort of the fur-lined hood.
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"Kas Petaal's a goddess," says Isabella. "Or a god. The only one where there's a question about the matter, since these are after all witch deities."

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"Somebody's a smart cookie," says Petaal, poking her face out again. Kas grins.

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Isabella pets Pathalan's feathers. "Owls can see in the daytime, too," she says. "So, how are you doing that?"

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"Magic," Petaal jokes, and disappears back into Kas's hood with a flick of her—suddenly longer, bushier, and more orange—tail.

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Bell doesn't fall off her cloud-pine, but if she did she couldn't look more stunned. "How old are you?" she asks.

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"Eighteen," Kas says merrily. Petaal, now a red fox, rests her front paws on the fur lining of the hood and grins a foxy little grin.

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"I didn't think humans settled any later than witches," Isabella said. "I have a cousin whose daemon didn't settle till she was almost seventeen - he loved being a tiger, he resisted the pull to bird shapes as long as he could, I think that's why. Eighteen. Wow. And I've never heard of daemons changing sex at all."

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Petaal giggles and reverts to fennec form, tucking herself into the invisible recesses of the hood.

"Guess we're just special," says Kas. And: "Check it out: lunch!"

He has found them a restaurant. It is small and extremely charming, with a hand-painted green sign that seems to imply it sells very happy snowmen.
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"Do you do anything else unusual?" Isabella asks, pushing into the restaurant. "Or are you just more... daemonically unstable... than the average child?"

(It's clearly not a secret. Petaal was changing like that in the middle of the street, half in clear view; Path's eyes aren't that unusual.)
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"Define 'unusual'," he says cheerfully.

The restaurant owner greets them familiarly in French. Kas responds, mispronounced but intelligible. Apparently he knows the place, and the place also knows him. They are invited to choose a table.
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Isabella knows enough phrases of French to pick up a book and guess at cognates in the menu. "Recommendations?" she asks, peering at the selection and listening to Pathalan's guesses about the words.

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"Best soup in the city," he says.

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"Well, that's nonspecific. But I'm not allergic to anything, so all right," shrugs Bell. "And I'm hoping to avoid stopping on the way back to Maine so I will also get this thing with the word that I believe to be 'chicken'."

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"Sure," Kas says amicably. "Maine, huh? To bring your fancy book home?"

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"Yeah. My teacher wants a spell in it. I think after she copies it out and I've had a bit to look through it, it's going to the clan library, but that's not urgent enough that she's likely to send me flying to Washington too."

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"I lived in Maine for a bit once," he says.

The restaurant owner comes back to take their orders. Kas remembers and reproduces Isabella's, adds his own, and hands over his menu.

Apparently deciding that it's warm enough in here, Petaal takes his red fox shape, pushes Kas's hood back, and curls up in it with his nose and front paws resting on Kas's right shoulder.
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Path hops onto the table and a few steps forward from Isabella's shoulder. She doesn't have anything between his talons and her skin, but there must be a spell on her or something, because there aren't even marks, let alone wounds or scars.

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"Hi," says Petaal, snuggling into the side of Kas's neck and observing Path's progress across the table.

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"Hello," replies Path, blinking in a characteristically owlish manner.

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Petaal grins foxily. "What's up?"

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"You're puzzling," says Path. "Have you always known you could change sexes? Or did you discover it?"

Isabella's phone rings. It plays witchy music, wordless acapella vocals, until she answers it. "Yes, Metis?" she says. "Yes. Waiting for lunch. I'm hoping to fly straight back without stopping on the way. No. Of course. Not yet. Yes, if it's just that I can send Path. Shouldn't slow me down at all. Okay. I'll be back this evening."

Isabella hangs up the phone. "She needs a second original print of the receipt for the book," she tells her owl. "The clan library's going to want it for their insurance or something."

Path makes a sighing noise. "I'll be right back, then," he says, and he lets himself out of the restaurant with the next group to open the door and wings his way back to the bookstore.
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Petaal giggles and dives into the bowl of Kas's hood, emerging a moment later on his left shoulder as a female red fox.

"We were ten before we knew other daemons didn't," says Kas, reaching up to scratch her behind the ears.
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"Really? Did you not play with a lot of other kids growing up?" Isabella asks.

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