Dark, and then light.

  Gloria opened her eyes to see a ceiling fan twirling lazily over her head. Something soft rustled over her as she stirred: a thick blanket, nicer than anything she had at home. She smelled something distantly nostalgic, but couldn’t place exactly what corner of her memory was being stimulated by it.

  “It’s the smell of the soap they use, to clean the bathrooms,” a calm voice cut in, from somewhere unseen. “All the Marriott hotels use the same brand. Even back in the 1970s, which was when you first smelled it. You and your parents stayed in one when you were traveling for an ice skating competition.”

  “Oh,” Gloria said, dreamily. She looked down, saw that she was bundled in an unfamiliar bed. She was still in her street clothes, however, and her skin seemed scuffed and dirty. “Ha. That’s right. You-”

  She jolted up. Her skin. Her clothes. She could see them.

  A chuckle from across the room: she twisted to see Pema standing by the room’s windows, eyes fixed on the guests milling around in the parking lot below. “Good morning.”

  “I’m fixed.” Gloria laughed, a chuff of disbelief. “I can see me. What happened?”

  “What happened, my friend, is that you died,” Pema said. He sounded amused. He glanced at her, and she felt pierced by him. “Do you remember?”

  “I died?” Gloria shook her head, drew herself up against the headboard, nibbled at her thumbnail. God, it was good to see her nails, raw beds and chipped polish and all. “No. I- I remember walking into my apartment. And then a noise. And after that- Gosh, I don’t know. A dream? Maybe?”

  Pema clicked his tongue. “No, they never remember. A shame. I am so dreadfully curious about it.”

  “What killed me?”

  “My apologies, the fault for that lies at least half with me. It seems we underestimated your pursuers. From what I could gather, whoever is after you must have some baseline knowledge of your identity and existence, but they were frustrated enough with your, well, invisibility, that they decided to switch tactics and booby-trap your apartment. You were killed essentially instantly by a proximity-triggered plastic explosive.”

  Gloria poked at her own torso. “I don’t feel like someone who was blown up. I feel fine.”

  “Well, that’s the most fascinating bit of all,” Pema walked across the room, to the suite’s miniature kitchen. He fished out a butter knife and held it above his left hand, which he splayed on the counter. “Now, miraculous feats of healing are not unknown those of us awakened to our Qi.”

  With this, he pressed the knife down and chopped off the first digit of his pinky finger. Gloria let out a sharp gasp and flailed, caught between an impulse to run over and stop him, and an impulse to close her eyes and quail. “Pema! Heavens! Don’t-”

  “It’s fine, Gloria, please. Watch.”

  With some trepidation, she allowed herself to glance back at the old man. He held his finger up for her inspection: the tip was already reforming, a mummified sprout of bone wrapping itself in layers of fascia and skin. Within a few seconds, it was as if he’d never been injured. “Now, this is a fine trick, but it’s not one most of our ilk even know we can do. It takes immense skill, years of practice, and, most notably, the kind of intimate knowledge only masters of an art can ever awaken to. And you, my ever-surprising friend, are very much a novice. And yet.”

  He gestured to her decidedly un-exploded body. Gloria took a few steadying breaths. Her head was swimming.

  “So I can’t… die?”

  “Well,” Pema jerked his head. “I wouldn’t say that. I’m sure if you stumbled into another bomb, the next explosion would stick pretty permanently.”

  “Then why-”

  “I don’t know!” Pema giggled and clapped. He seemed thrilled with the words. “I actually do not know. It’s such a wonderfully unforeseen situation. Now, I have a theory: if you recall, I mentioned earlier that, usually, a Qi user must first die and come back for their powers to awaken. And you hadn’t died yet, at the time, but there you were, surging with Qi and completely invisible.”

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Qi being…”

  “One of many names for the mysterious force wielded by you and I and our murderous brethren. Some call it a Blessing, a Field, an Aura, a Shroud, Chakra, the names vary. In short, it’s a usually very narrow area surrounding a gifted person, the boundaries of which demarcate a space in which the wielder enjoys limited omnipotence: the ability to freely and instantly manipulate forms of matter and energy confined within.”

  Gloria blinked, head still feeling sluggish and thick, clearly lost.

  “Magic,” Pema shrugged.

  “Oh.”

  “Magic that, until now, I thought you first had to die to access.” Pema pointed at her, still gleeful. “But you went and flipped the natural order. From the moment your Qi showed itself, a moment I’d be willing to bet coincided with the appearance of the massive rift of Qi that opened and drenched your quaint little city, you were destined to die. Your awakening predetermined your death, instead of the other way around. A curious reversal of causality.”

  “So I’m probably not immortal,” Gloria guessed.

  “I’d assume so. Your safety should still very much be prioritized. Which is why we’re all the way out here.”

  “Out here? Where are we?” Gloria looked around: saw a digital clock on the bedside table that blinked: 4:18 PM. “Wait, when are we? It’s been a day?”

  “You were briefly conscious when you first re-formed, but I took it upon myself to knock you out again, because, well,” Pema sat at her bedside, ran his hand over the duvet, absently, like he was lost in thought. “You became visible again. Too visible.”

  Gloria felt a flush. “The blast didn’t- I wasn’t naked, was I?”

  Pema goggled at her, then laughed, a full-body, throaty laugh. He slapped his knee. “Oh, no, Gloria, your modesty is intact. No, you were glowing quite brightly.”

  “Oh,” Gloria breathed, embarrassed.

  “Not only were you very distractingly bright, visually, your body was throwing off Qi signals far and wide, like a lighthouse for your pursuers. I figured that if you were unconscious this would abate, and it mostly did. You’re still… leaking a little.”

  Gloria didn’t quite understand what he meant by this, but understood that it was probably less than ideal. “So you took me somewhere?”

  “Des Moines, yes.” Pema tutted. “Not quite as charming as your own city. Fewer trains.”

  “How did you get me here?”

  Pema waved a hand. “Carried you, hopped over. Not hard. I’ve made jaunts over the Indian Ocean with heavier burdens.”

  He hopped off the bed and stretched before padding over to the door. “The keys are on the desk. I jaunted into your apartment and collected some of your papers and clothes, whatever hadn’t been destroyed in the explosion, those are in the closet. I have this room arranged for you for two weeks; much longer than that and they’ll expect payment. Now-”

  “Wait,” Gloria shuffled out of the bed. “You’re leaving me here?”

  Pema cocked his head. “Well, yes. The city I’m returning to is full of people who might want to- well. Blow you up and eat the leavings.”

  “But what if they come for me here?”

  “Oh, I doubt-”

  “I’m defenseless here!” Gloria insisted. “I don’t know the city. I’m a perfect stranger to everyone for miles. I don’t have any plans, I don’t know what’s happening to me. What if I turn invisible again? What if someone plants another bomb?”

  “I understand the concern, but it’s simply too dangerous-”

  “I’m coming with you.” Gloria stamped her foot, and felt immediately juvenile for the gesture. Being forceful like this felt desperately unfamiliar, but it was what felt correct, now. “You need to explain to me what’s happening. You’re a lovely, helpful man, Pema, and- thank you for saving me. But I don’t know if I’m just slowing down in my old age, or if you’re just a crummy teacher, but half the things you’ve said so far about ‘Qi’ just went in one of my ears and out the other.” She folded her arms. “I need to know, actually, what this magic is all about. And I need to know how to use it, to be safe. And you can’t exactly teach me if you dump me in this hotel like- like a suitcase you forgot.”

  Pema’s grin nearly reached his ears. He steepled his fingers, like he’d briefly considered clapping. “If you come with me, I can teach you, but you’ll have to follow me around on my errands. And those errands might get violent. Your cities aren’t going to be very safe for anyone much longer.”

  “My home blew up yesterday.” Gloria suddenly felt a wave of sadness. “Where else am I going to go?”

  Pema clapped, now, a quick spate of applause. “Oh, you’re so full of surprises. Well. If you accept my terms, then by all means, come with me. We’ll have a lot to discuss.”