From The Skin of the World: Mischief’s Journey
Mischief has acquired the power from Mother to introduce more chaos magic into the
world, which may or may not have been a great idea, because she’s the Trickster:
She lifted her arms, reached out around her, stepped into her dance; but not softly this time, no. She sang, she moved, she gathered, she yanked — she tore.
A puff of darkness appeared down the road. Constantine stepped out of it, saw her. He flew in her direction, feet skimming the ground. “Mischief? What are you doing? How come you can do this?”
She ignored him, danced faster, sang harder.
“Mischief!”
Someone else was coming, she could feel it. Mother. She seemed unhappy.
Well, so was Mischief. The world needed a kick in the ass, and she was going to provide it.
“MISCHIEF!”
She was out of time. She took a firm grasp of the flow and wrenched it; everything came loose.
Everything.
Mischief was blown off her feet, sent tumbling along the ground, crashing against rocks and trees. She swirled, thumping end over end, spinning and twisting…what was happening?
