14. To the Goddess of Luck, Thank You #3
He returns my scowl, knowing my resolve, then glances over the image.
“Language, Angie,” he grumbles. “This horrific photo of Yasmine means what, exactly?” I hand him the other one, noticing Kyra pulls out a compact, foldable knife, concealing it beside her thigh.
Where the hell did she get that? “Why do you have these hideous photographs, and how does it prove you have magic?” Ethan asks, reducing the space between them once more. “Trickery won’t save you.”
“It’s not a trick, asshole. I summoned them and the toilet paper.” Her hand grips tighter around the knife until the skin over her knuckles shares a mix between red and white.
“Summon it? Angie, explain.”
I divulge everything from receiving her messages to her story about the toilet parchment, but I keep the part of her taking a shit between the two of us, summarizing the Aladdin story, and ending with how these photos came about.
“Initially, denial and doubt forced any implications of her toilet parchment story out of the equation. But after summoning those photos and witnessing the reddish glow she emits, yeah, my bestie has magic. Which means she’s staying.” I leave no room for anything other than an ‘okay.’
“Show me,” Ethan demands through clenched teeth.
“Fine, if it’ll get you to leave…Let me think.” Placing a hand under her chin in deep thought, Kyra sees my newly summoned cup—half filled—and reaches out. “Is that empty?”
“Hold on.” I down the rest of my delicious, brown liquid.
It’s like an internal itch being scratched, and I hum in satisfaction as I drain its entirety.
She retrieves my empty mug whilst keeping her distance from him and still holding her concealed weapon.
“Watch this.” Wrapping a hand around the glass and closing her eyes, she quietly breathes as her focus returns.
Ethan glances at me, and I nod towards Kyra. “What is she doing?” he murmurs.
“Shh,” I insist, “you got this, Kyra. Focus.” She squints her lids harder, but nothing happens. A frustrated huff passes her lips, and she tries again.
“How long does this normally take?” Ethan asks.
“Shhhh,” Kyra responds, prompting an eye roll of his own. A few seconds expire, and excitement respawns my happy dance. Slowly, the mug begins filling with beautiful, dark liquid, and I squeal, noticing the gleam of her red magic.
“See, told you.” Kyra pushes the now filled mug at Ethan and with one word, “Rebecca,” he grabs her arm, places a sigil beneath them, and then they vanish.
I follow promptly, traveling through my own sigil and find the dim of his golden one vanishing outside Rebecca’s office. The two of them are inside arguing whilst Kyra projects her disdain for their abrupt departure.
“Show her,” Ethan demands, folding his arms with a towering presence. Showing his true emotions, he clenches his teeth as Kyra returns a scowl.
“Not until you apologize. You can’t just whisk me away whenever the hell you feel like it. I don’t trust you.” She stands her ground as a fire births within her sun-kissed, hazel eyes. Red flourishes her neck and cheeks. She’s agitated. Ethan questions Rebecca on the remaining contract’s time.
“It ends in four hours. What is this about? I have better things needing my attention, Ethan.” She shuffles documents around, uninterested.
I step in, going over all the important details from today, catching her up.
The two bickering like faylings separate.
Both sit on opposite sides of her office and seem to be engaged in a muted conversation, fiercely staring at one another with undisputed hatred.
“Kyra has magic? Well, that has my attention. Would you be so kind, dear, and display it for me?” She stands, moving around the front of her large, wooden desk, and takes a seat, crossing one leg over the other.
“He owes me an apology,” Kyra insists, standing in haste.
Ethan leans back against the sofa, gleaming with mischief. “Enlighten me. What am I apologizing for?”
“You appeared inside my room without using the door, then without so much as a word, you grabbed me and brought me here. For all I knew, you were taking me back to the mountains,” she answers, still managing to keep that foldable knife concealed.
“No,” he responds behind a darkened expression, baiting her attitude. Something tells me he enjoys it, though he has killed for far less.
Rebecca clears her throat. “Not to chime in, but, Kyra, if you’ve displayed some form of magic, it’s in the Academy’s best interest that you show me.”
She continues leering, flexing her empty hand like she is restraining herself from attacking Ethan.
With a deep breath, Kyra responds, giving him a devilish smirk, “Fine. I know exactly what I want.” Holding her hand out, it begins glowing with no warm-up or failed attempts.
A moment passes along with a fading red light, and a black leather strap sits inside her palm.
Rebecca laughs in glee, applauding Kyra for a job well done.
“What’s that?” Ethan asks, standing for better observation.
“It’s for you.” She stretches her hand out, and Ethan retrieves the item with caution and holds it between two clasped fingers. A silver ball dangles from a leather neck strap, and Kyra’s smile widens.
“A bell? Why?” His features turn into a more perplexed response.
“So I’ll know when you randomly pop in my room,” she says, holding his gaze and abandoning her devilish smirk. I slap a hand over my mouth, withholding a laugh that fights for release.
“I’m not wearing this,” Ethan growls.
“Good. Stay the hell out of my room and away from me.” Folding her arms, she stands her ground. She is brave, and I love her for it, but we need to work on her not stroking the bear.
“The two of you can discuss that later. My dear Kyra, how did this come to be?” Rebecca asks, viewing Kyra in an intriguing manner.
She discusses a more in-depth version, and our Assistant Dean becomes delighted.
Beautiful, white teeth glisten behind the tint of her bright red lipstick.
“We still haven’t discovered the reason for the flames going out, but this does prove you have magical properties.
” Elegantly, she steps away from her desk and takes Kyra’s hands.
“What type of magic do I have?”
“From the looks of it, creation. An order long since forgotten…until now.”
Ethan addresses her in haste, clenching his jaw, “Are you sure?” I’m not missing the fact that he still holds her creation. I snicker.
“From what I’ve seen and heard, it’s indeed probable.
However, we must let her magic manifest to its full extent.
She can start classes in a few days.” Still holding Kyra’s hand, she continues, “I’ll text over your schedule.
” Her shoulders ease. Whatever troubled Rebecca appears to no longer matter, and I’m banking that it had something to do with a mortal being here.
“You're staying, Kyra!” I yell, tossing my arms high and rushing towards her. Our happy dance commences as the two of us embrace, and I can feel the patters of her heart beating against my chest.
“What order do I belong to?” She breaks away and redirects to Rebecca.
“Good question. We don’t have a lot of information on creation magic, but I’ll go over what little we do have. Until then, I’ll place you within House Death. House Fire will be receiving a student in two weeks, transferring from another Academy. ”
Her office becomes blindingly bright with gold. It doesn’t require me turning to know it’s Ethan’s sigil magic, and it vanishes just as fast as it came. Things are getting interesting now that Kyra is staying, and only the Gods can prepare her for what is to come.
She pockets the knife with pride exuberating around her smile. House Death is a wonderful order, and I for one can’t wait for her classes to start. Rebirth has no idea what is about to hit them.
“Oh, and Kyra,” Rebecca calls out, “I’d like to officially welcome you to Rebirth Academy.”