Desmond gently lay down his pen and pushed away the bookmark he'd been working on. He enjoyed creating these little talismans, but he realized he'd become preoccupied with untangling one of the webs around one of the highschoolers several minutes earlier and gone still.
One of the younger girls was about to run into some small, unreadable, random event that would spin out more possibilities, and more troublesome ones, than it would have been able to do in any other town. In any other place, not a tenth, perhaps not a hundredth, of what he saw whirling about her would have been possible. This place offered her the best and most dangerous possibilities for life. He sighed slightly and wished for the thousandth time that he could do his job by forcing people to leave Angels Fall. There were too many people with futures like hers here now, people even he barely knew how to guide, because their futures spun out like jagged lightning from events hidden from him by chaos.
He'd met people, most of them long ago and across an ocean or two, with futures difficult to read because they'd been deliberately clouded. Someone had clouded themselves, most inadvertently. They were usually the easiest to guide, once they understood. Some had been clouded by others, and that was a bit more difficult. Most of those who did the clouding were ignorant or inept, but in some ways that made them more dangerous. And of course there were his relatives on the other side, who understood his abilities, or had in the early days, before he'd learned, and they had no trouble making things difficult for him. The slow, painstaking nature of his work, and the fact that he wasn't permitted to act directly against them, meant they risked little by revealing their interference.
Despite strong signs that some of them were or had been present in Angels Fall, they caused no problems with his work. It was possible that they were simply unaware of his presence, but he thought it much more likely that they simply saw no reason to bother with him at present. It didn't reduce the danger for his charges much, not in this town, but it gave him time to work, and that was all he needed.
That brought him back to the problem of the girl. He'd narrowed it down as far as he could and gotten nothing useful. He sighed and got up to make a mug of strong tea. Sometimes it appeared that his job was to wait and deal with the consequences of some Event rather than guide his charge to and through it, but he was never certain enough of his ability or judgment to be comfortable in that situation.