Epilogue
FBI: Gossip columnist took money to write ‘hit pieces’
By Helen Hickok
Star staff reporter
‘Witches’ will not face charges
By Helen Hickok
Star staff reporter
The tens of thousands of women who cast spells on the National Mall last month will not be prosecuted for illegal magic use, the Abbott administration announced yesterday.
But officials would not say whether they will extend to witches the opportunities that, for decades, wizards alone have enjoyed.
March 20, 2022
Draden gets life in prison
By Helen Hickok
Star staff reporter
Disgraced former vice president James Draden avoided the death penalty yesterday for his role in the scheme to kill President Abbott, other world leaders and untold numbers of Americans in Detroit.
March 29, 2022
‘Typic rights’ clears hurdle
By Helen Hickok
Star staff reporter
Maryland, where the typic-rights movement began, yesterday became the final state needed to approve a constitutional convention to axe the requirement that candidates for national office must be wizards.
The dramatic late-night vote in the Senate turned on a single man: Sen. Mitchell Gray (R-Ellicott Mills), a driving force behind last year’s original measure but not among the sponsors this session. Supporters feared he would abstain. Instead, he voted in favor.
“This is an historic moment,” said Rosemarie Dane, president of the Women’s League for the Prohibition of Magic.
November 2, 2023
Women eligible for magic training
By Helen Hickok
Star staff reporter
Under intense pressure from the National Organization for Witches, President Abbott announced yesterday that women will be permitted an education in the magical arts — but only to become omnimancers.
“Many small towns will benefit from the services ladies can be trained to provide, with proper oversight from fully qualified wizards, of course,” Abbott said.
Joan Hamilton, president of NOW, said the 1-million-member group “won’t stop fighting until witches are treated as wizards’ equals — which we are.”
July 1, 2024
The Dish by Ken Hamm
YES, PROFESSOR: The Omnimancing Academy for Ladies, due to open in two months, has had all sorts of trouble recruiting wizard teachers. Now it’s announcing a startling appointment: Frederick Knight, formerly Draden, son of the jailbird former VP.
Knight, who took his mother’s maiden name (we broke that news first, as you’ll recall), spent the last two years as a virtual recluse.
If he ventured out in public beyond giving testimony against dear Dad, we can’t find evidence of it.
This is the same fellow who, not that long before, spent every night out on the town.
The first crop of lady omnimancers-in-training should have a memorable year …
May 20, 2028
The Dish by Ken Hamm
DR. ‘JULIET’: You might be forgiven for wondering what happened to Beatrix Blackwell, the typic-rights activist who seemed to be on the front pages every day a few years back.
What’s she been doing lately? Earning a PhD, of all things.
We hear she’s the first graduate of her ladies’ college with a doctorate in medical research.
As you’ll recall unless you spent the early 2020s under a rock, she and her husband, Peter Blackwell, were dubbed the “Romeo and Juliet of Washington” because he was a wizard. (He isn’t in the past tense, but his wizardry is — and if you missed that, you really have been out of circulation.)
So what’s he doing now? After some hush-hush stuff on weapons defense, he founded a laboratory a few years back with several big donations. His focus: medical research. Planning to hire the little lady, Romeo?
“You’re too late. We gave away your seats.”
Martinelli, in their usual booth in the back, slung his arm around Will Clark. Beatrix broke into a grin at their identically mischievous expressions and turned to see Anna Clark, on the other side of the table, whispering something to Mae.
“Yes, he’s completely impossible,” Mae said. “As I remind him regularly.”
Martinelli said in an exaggerated stage whisper to Will, “I take it as a compliment.” Will giggled.
“Well, let’s go,” Anna said, rising and holding out a hand to her youngest brother. “You’ve got homework waiting, and so have I.”
“Oh … Uncle Tim, do I have to?”
“Go on, Will-a-bill,” Martinelli said, tousling his hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I got an ‘A,’” Anna whispered to Beatrix, eyes bright.
“I knew you would!”
“It’s finally making sense. Thank you.”
Beatrix smiled at her, hardly able to believe that Anna was now an inch taller than she was and studying trigonometry. Or that Will, the baby she helped deliver, turned eight last week.
“Bye!” the kids chorused as they trundled off, hand in hand.
“Remind your parents—dinner tomorrow,” Beatrix called after them.
“Quick, sit,” Peter said, “before that reprobate gives our seats away to someone else.”
Martinelli waggled his eyebrows. “Don’t think I won’t.”
Peter slipped into the booth next to his friend, elbowing him. Beatrix slid beside Mae. “How’s the—”
“Omnimancer! Omnimancer!”
All four of them turned to look at the source of the interruption, age six-and-a-half.
“Which one?” Martinelli asked the boy.
“Omnimancer Mae,” Eddy Gray clarified, looking at her with a trembling lip.
“No one ever wants me,” Martinelli said, sotto voce. (This was patently untrue. Peter rolled his eyes and she stifled a laugh.)
“What is it, Eddy?” Mae asked sympathetically.
“I was supposed to be watching Andy but he got away from me and climbed all the way to the top of the really big tree up the street and his foot got stuck and he can’t get down and he’s crying but he didn’t want me to say he’s crying and—”
“I’ll be right back,” Mae told them, and Beatrix hastened to let her out.
“Want a hand?” Martinelli asked.
She shook her head, smiling. As she strode out with Eddy, she called over her shoulder: “Next one’s all yours, dearheart.”
“She’s really good at this,” Beatrix murmured, both because it was true and because she liked the effect it always had on Martinelli. He beamed and launched into the latest story of his wife’s omnimancing prowess, this time involving a basement stairwell and Mayor Croft’s trick knee.
“And she cast the spell so fast she cushioned his fall!” Martinelli shook his head fondly.
“Whole thing happened before I’d even gotten a leaf out of my pocket.
Hate to think of the consequences if she hadn’t been there.
Oh—before I forget, take a gander at this.
I’m hoping it’ll do something about the damn potato bugs—the usual spells just aren’t that effective. ”
Peter caught Beatrix’s eye. He was wearing an irresistible smile, and she knew just what he was thinking.
There was something hilarious (and wonderful) about this man, who once couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to omnimance, taking such joy in doing it.
Peter turned the piece of paper Martinelli proffered so she could look at it, too, but as it was a series of spellwords rather than a brew, he had the far higher likelihood of success.
“That’s intriguing,” he murmured. “How are you testing it?”
“Well, that’s the thing—I don’t want to try it on someone’s farm and find out it ruins the soil or something, so I’m rigging up a potato-bug terrarium …”
The current and former omnimancers of Ellicott Mills talked shop with their mouths full and their heads together, one with a thinning silver queue and the other with short hair the color of dark chocolate.
She watched them as she ate her sandwich, mind wandering to her own project until the phrase “human trials” brought her back.
“Sorry?” she said.
“You’re ready?” Martinelli asked. “You’re starting them?”
“Well—ready to start recruiting,” she said. “That could take a while.”
Peter grinned at Martinelli. “Joan offered to help. Ask her about her strategy at dinner tomorrow, and you’ll see why I’m not worried.”
“Congratulations! You must be so excited,” Martinelli said to Beatrix, then raised his eyebrows as she groaned. “What? Wrong thing to say?”
Peter aimed a knowing look at her. “She’s the sort of researcher who absolutely hates to count her eggs before they hatch.”
“Or more to the point,” she murmured, “before I know how many in the latest round avoided fertilization.”
Both men laughed, Peter quietly, Martinelli noisily.
“Um, pardon me … Omnimancer?”
The man standing awkwardly before their table, it transpired, had driven from the farthest reaches of the Martinellis’ tri-county territory. His wife was waiting in the car with their toddler, who had a bad case of the croup their doctor said would require a witch or wizard’s intervention.
“Go on,” Peter said, sliding out of the booth to make way for Martinelli. “Remember, dinner at our place tomorrow.”
“Knight coming this time?” Martinelli asked as he got out. “And Hillier?”
“Yes, both of them,” Beatrix called after him as he hurried off.
Peter sat down, this time on her side of the table.
“Do you still miss it?” she asked softly. “Omnimancing?”
“Yes,” he said. “But also, bluntly, no. Behold: I will finish my sandwich and … no one will interrupt. No matter how slowly I eat.”
She snorted. “A wondrous feat indeed.”
“Just to be absolutely clear,” he said after he swallowed his very slowly eaten bite. “What we’re doing now—I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Not a single thing.”
He didn’t have to say “not even for magic.” She knew that was what he meant. Heart full, she leaned in and kissed him.
“Mm, Dr. Blackwell,” he said against her cheek, “someone might see.”
“Well then, other Dr. Blackwell, hurry up and finish your dinner so we can go somewhere more private.”
His chest twitched in silent laughter. “That’s what I want everyone to call me. ‘Other Dr. Blackwell.’”
“Sorry about that!” Mae bustled back, looking cheerful, cheeks rosy from the cold. “Oh, did Tim get called off?”
“Case of the croup,” Beatrix said.