I'm not surprised when Alicia, my agent, tells me her assistant's hip-pocketed Kam.

Jessica's bright, and savvy, and I never quite appreciated exactly all the ways she acted unprofessional towards me until now.

Kam will be in good hands. My hands, really.

K: Can I send you this contract?

She texts me like this now that she's said "yes". GirlCon was a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. It's why Alicia Del Metrio's called me. She wants to know if she should fire Jessica.

She doesn't say it: she's apologizing for Jessica being too forward with her first client, but I know.

Nobody says the truth, especially to me. Alicia wants permission to let out her cruelty in a socially acceptable way.

She wants to hurt someone because she's afraid she's jeopardized her cash cow.

People're always doing this to me. Asking me for things. Seeking absolution. Wanting approval.

I laugh off what Jessica did as the foibles of a soon-to-be junior agent, and Alicia joins in. She'll have to find other ways of getting her kicks.

And just like that, I saved a girl's job. Even when I'm not being a Magisorcerer, I'm helping.

Work is going well, too. I'm thriving.

I used to worry about navigating things, but when everyone thinks the worst about you already? Well... it makes it easier to steer into the skid.

The only problem is the Decay. It's gotten far more unruly as of late. It won't stay still. I'm up to suppressing it multiple times a day.

It's a blemish on a spectacular run of good health and prosperity. I can't have that, so I arrange a visit with the one woman who'd know exactly how to tame the Decay.

It's strange, being back in this prison so soon.

Even more surreal, sitting across from someone I used to see as a villain.

How childish, the labels we sling. Considering Desdemona now, I can't see her as anything other than a colleague — one with whom I had some important policy disagreements, but a colleague nonetheless.

"Why're you here?" Desdemona asks. "Come to gloat?"

She'll need convincing.

I do what only people in a position of power can do without any real consequence: I tell the honest truth.

"I need your help. And you're going to give it to me," I say.

Desdemona rolls her eyes. "I'm not going to tell you where Elaine MacGregory is."

"Oh my god," I laugh. "I forgot about her!"

I really had. Desdemona's apprentice — Elaine — disappeared shortly before she was brought in. Rumors abounded about where she went.

"Desdemona. She faked her death and lives in Bermuda now, teaching people how to snorkel and scuba dive," I say. It's the truth.

Desdemona seems to know it, too.

"So, why're you here, then?" She pries, her tone icier than the practiced, dismissive annoyance from earlier.

"Because you know how Decay works," I say.

Desdemona grits her teeth, not liking the way that this conversation's going. "And?"

"And you're going to tell me everything."

"What do I get?"

I lean forward, trying to put my very best spin on the single word I utter: "Freedom." I recline back, satisfied.

Desdemona shakes her head. "You can't do that. I'm in prison, not dead. I know how popular Kamilliajora's lecture was. I'm not getting out."

I shrug. "Of course you will."

Desdemona narrows her eyes to slits, trying to parse something. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I'm me."

Desdemona shakes her head. "This makes no sense. Why're you even here? What could..." She trails off, her eyes flicking up and down my body. Appraising me. And then it hits her.

The truth.

"That's bold of you," she says. "I can't believe Kammie—"

"She doesn't know."

"Wow. Well this just gets better and better," Desdemona says, marveling at me — at what I've become. "And you've resulted to groveling?"

"Asking. I'm asking for your help."

Desdemona frowns, and shrugs. "Pass."

Frustration roils in me, and then I feel the Decay begin to wriggle. Dammit. Not here. Not now.

"Is something wrong, Tiana?" Desdemona's enjoying this. Her fingers skim over the muzzle she's wearing, and her eyes glint with malicious intent. "Something caught in your throat?"

I glare at her.

Now it's Desdemona who's leaning in, engaged. "How long have you had it inside you? Days?"

I don't answer, instead trying to calm the emotions welling in me; I start a box breath, hoping it'll calm the Decay before something worse happens. I'm at a three count when—

"Weeks, then?"

Another pang, and I feel the Decay lurch inside me. It wants out. It needs out... unless I suppress it. Annoyed, I form the expulsion incantation and invert it. The Decay freezes, and once the thrumming of my blood in my ears stops I realize I've been gasping for breath this whole time.

A predatory grin splits Desdemona's lips. "That was... illuminating. And fascinating. The longest I ever was able to hold the Decay inside someone was for a week before it pulled itself free."

"So you're no use to me, then," I growl.

"Yes," Desdemona concurs. "But you're useful to me."

I sneer. The gall. "You think I'm going to give you anything? I will bury you if you spea—"

"Y'know, the thing about this muzzle," Desdemona interjects, "is that it stops me from verbally chanting any and every known spell... but I burned my records of how to puppeteer people with Decay."

She utters three syllables before I can think to teleport to safety, and then I'm not able to think at all. I'm stuck still to the chair I sit in as the traitor in my body strangles away every chance I have to escape.

"Let's start this meeting over, shall we?"

I open my mouth to speak, to protest, but it doesn't move. Instead, I nod obediently. The power she wields is terrifying. Is this what it was like for Kam? To be aware that you have no control? To be trapped and utterly powerless?

To never have to worry about making a choice?

It's exhilarating. My heartrate skyrockets, and I think for a moment I'm going to die right here and right now from how hard it's beating. Except I don't because Desdemona's flooding my body with so many chemicals that all I feel is good.

It's synthetic. I know this. I should be terrified.

But it really is freedom for me. It's what I wanted with Kam, but better. Purer. Worse. I want to follow this all the way down to its wretched core even if it burns the goodness out of me once and for all.

I'm saved when the door open. It breaks Desdemona's focus.

True horror replaces false devotion.

I don't think about where I'm headed. I don't even consider it. I don't need to be anywhere. I'm dangerous. The only safe place for me is an inky void. Lightless. Senseless. There used to be tentacles, but she doesn't know I'm here.

And then I feel her tightness around me.

But it's wrong.

I slip free from her, and stumble to the floor. Above me is Kam, and on her bed is a feline-looking bartender I remember from the night I first tracked Kam down. She's half-naked, clutching a sheet to herself and looking terrified.

"H-hi..." I stutter out.

"Hi." Kam says. "You—"

I blink away.