As the sleek brown jet taxied into its berth at Logan International Airport, several workers paused to watch it smoothly slide to a stop. “Holy cow,” one woman muttered to her friends. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Yeah, I think so,” her friend replied, as the door to the jet opened and Piper walked down its ramp, one hand firmly on her flute case. “Wonder what the Magisters are doing in Boston?”
At the jet, Blossom stepped off just behind Piper, glancing around. “This is going to be awesome,” she said brightly.
“Awesome. Right. Maybe.” Behind her, Jack glanced around, and then spoke softly. “Try to stay in character.”