Follow the Rabbit
Sor broke into the pie-shop in the middle of the night.
She had to use up a vial to do it — one of the cork-stoppered containers, filled with someone else’s magic, that she kept on her person at all times — but there was no avoiding it. The only other option was to wait until the pie-shop was open. And she had a very good reason for not doing that, which she had known earlier (just after performing two medium-sized spells and one small one) but which escaped her memory now.
She paused, one foot inside the shop, the other still outside. Shit, she thought. Was this a bad idea? It was probably a bad idea.