BEING KAREN

Warrior Magic The master pulls his cloak more closely around himself, the room ice cold and drafty, all the windows open to the air year round. He stands quietly as they came in. They rattle and clank, bump into each other in passing, looking around for a seat or a place to lean against the wall. He sighs, and is thankful he only has to do this a few times every year. When their training is done, warriors are granted one small magic. He feels the tension in the room, they all

The Arrow I slip a hand into my witches bag, and to my surprise, draw out an arrow. What to do with this? I have no bow. I do not hunt. A single arrow could point me in a direction, but would it be the right one? Can I be my own compass? Targets abound. I have no bow. I do not hunt. “Do you shoot?” “Yes. Very well, as it happens:” A woman wiser than most wrote of the arrow, through the voice of her brilliant archer, “one of my vanities, you see. It’s handsome to watch, and s