There's a curse mark on the back of Sidney's neck.

Geno ends up with red, white and blue hair after the Caps game, so he’s the first person sent to the new cursebreaker when they make it back to Pittsburgh. Sid is in the lounge when Geno comes back out. “I’m know her,” Geno says despondently. “She’s cursebreaker on staff for media at Sochi.”

The procedure was an unmitigated success. A healthy baby boy, perfectly average in height and weight with a heart that beat steady as a metronome.

The magic hits him as soon as he opens his car door. Hearth magic and earth magic and hedge magic, and probably more, all swirling in a cacophony that should have been overwhelming. But instead it feels like wading into…home.

“So,” the first reporter asks, pushing forward in the scrum, “did you know about Alex Ovechkin?”

“Why can’t I just use your witch?” whines Connor, head resting on the kitchen table while Hallsy shuffles through a manila folder labeled “curse shit.” “She just rubbed foxglove on my wrists and told me not to have sex,” says Hallsy. “It was not very helpful, and also did you know that foxglove is poisonous?” “Yeah, if you eat it,” says Connor.

Being a star athlete changes you.

Mitch’s heart is freezing over. It takes him exactly one year, seventeen days, five hours, and thirteen minutes to notice.