Free Not On My Patch: a Young Wizards Hallowe'en Story by Diane Duane Page A

room, picked up the same pair of candy bags she’d picked up before, and opened the door.
    Nita found herself staring at a tall gangly black-haired guy wearing a shaggy Alley-Oop style caveman skin over a green-and-white-striped soccer jersey that said SPORTS WORLD in big letters, and in smaller ones, around a little badge on the breast, BRAY WANDERERS F.C. The guy had more splotchy piebald skins bound around his legs and over his Doc Martens, and he was balancing a truly huge caveman club over one shoulder. “Hey, be happy,” he said, “it’s Samhain!”
    She laughed at the sight of him. Ronan had purposely grimed himself up and punked his hair out into weird Celto-Goth points with some kind of hair wax that appeared to have the holding power of dried concrete, and he was carrying a rough burlap sack with a very dysfunctional one-eyed Jack-o-Lantern face painted on it. “Come on in,” Nita said. “But why so formal? Thought you were going to just appear out of nothing in the back yard, like normal people.”
    “Because I prefer to yank your chain,” Ronan said as he came in, “as is traditional. And speaking of which… get a load of you . That’s a new look…”
    Nita grinned, though she found herself blushing at the same time. “Not so new,” she said, brushing at the skirt— if that was the word for it— of her costume. “It was big on Mars, once upon a time.” …if “big’s” the right word to describe something there’s so little of! In its Martian incarnation the costume, heavy on gems and gleaming metal and filmy translucent drapery, could still have been described as fairly minimal—and more so depending on which Mars you were talking about. The wizardly jury was still out on exactly how Edgar Rice Burroughs had come so close to describing what the real First Race of Mars considered decent daywear. Nita had been less concerned about that issue than about how to adjust the design so that she would neither get arrested for indecent exposure or scandalize her Dad. She’d opaqued the long sheer skirt down and added an underskirt, as well as short filmy sleeves and a fair amount of coverage to the bodice, and then had sent the whole designs off to one of the retailers at the Crossings who owed both her and Carmela some large favors. The overall result was satisfying, even though she was still going to want a jacket if the temperature dropped too low.
    “I got kind of used to it while I was working up there,” Nita said. She didn’t mention what she thought Ronan might be perfectly able to guess: that Kit had liked it on her, and had been too shy to say as much. “So if anybody asks, I’m an alien princess or something.”
    “But as I understand it, you kind of were,” Ronan said, and smiled. It was a less jokey or edgy smile than she usually saw from him, and Nita blushed again. What is the matter with me stop it stop it stop it! she thought, but as usual the blush was ignoring her and would plainly be taking its own sweet time about burning out. Nothing to do but carry on…
    “It got better,” Nita said, and grinned at him. “Anyway, why’re we standing here? Come on in…”
    He followed her into the living room, where Kit had come out to see who was there. “Hey, look, it’s the Dread Pirate Rodriguez,” he said as the two of them clasped hands overarm. Then Ronan started snickering. “Jeez Louise, Kit! Worst…mustache… ever! Why didn’t you just give it up and grow one?”
    “Don’t think he hasn’t been trying,” said a voice from the bathroom at the back of the house.
    Kit turned a weary glance on Nita. “Is it all right if I destroy your sister a little?”
    “Knock yourself out,” Nita said. “But even the Lone One’s had a run at that and didn’t get far…”
    Kit sighed and leaned over the living room candy table, picking up one of the newly filled orange and black paper trick-or-treat packages and peering into it. “The problem is that if you use wizardry