“No, I definitely need to hit the bookstore. He let me take Magical Zoology II this term,” Mikhail said, and tipped back his battered cowboy hat with an absent hand. It didn’t match his school uniform, but he’d earned the sweat stained, sooty brim through hands now toughened by hard work with enormous livestock.
The calluses came with newfound confidence and efficiency in his spellcasting, which showed in his pre-term placement testing. It had only taken a quick narrowing of slit-pupiled eyes for his schedule to pass muster. Professor Hapburn had even flicked his tongue out in what passed for a pleased salamander smile when Mikhail demonstrated the strength of his camouflage spells.
Of course, Professor Hapburn’s sharp, orange eyes had also not missed the faint hoof print on the hat’s crown, either. Mikhail was certain of it, as certain as he was that he’d be asked to critique his own performance over a strong cup of tea.
Liza blew her bangs upward and tossed the rest of her hair out of her satchel strap’s way as she adjusted the catch. Her braid thunked dully against one of the fire extinguishers floating over her shoulder. “Come on, then. And of course he did. Why wouldn’t he?”
“There’s a secondary intro course he threatened to make me take, if I didn’t stop being so skittish around the more sensitive creatures,” Mikhail answered. “You can’t let the werewolves smell fear. Say, why do you still have those two following you around, anyway?”
He drew his head and shoulders minutely away from his friend as they dodged their way through the hall of returning students. The extinguishers had changed their positions around Liza’s head. There was something menacing in the movement, almost…offended?
“They’re part of the family,” she said casually. “Besides, look.” Liza shoved a crumpled piece of paper into his hand. “That’s cool, right?”
“Maths, herbology, magical gastronomy,” he read aloud. “I have that one, too. What’s wishuu?”
“Djinn combat.” She let out a huge grin that blinded him in its intensity. It wasn’t just the sunlight streaming from the open main doors of Wisurg Magical Academy.
“Clamp it down,” he cautioned, then reached a hand to catch her elbow before she could stumble down the entrance stairs. He let go almost immediately. “Hey. Uh. Hey. What’s wrong? It’s a beautiful day. I thought you were happy to be back?”
“I am!” The words were a scream. Tears streamed down her face. Liza sank to the stone pavement and sobbed into her hands. “I am so very, delightfully happy!”
He took a step back. “Um. If you say so?”
A hand clapped onto his shoulder, along with a wheezing noise that was half laugh, half resigned sigh. Mikhail turned to find Chef McCreedy in full whites. Any adult, he decided, was better than dealing with girls crying. “Sir, I don’t know what happened. One minute, we were headed for the bookstore and everything was fine.”
“Aye, and the next, the sobbin’ and cryin’, eh, boyo?”
“Yes,” he said emphatically. “That.”
“The finest of rotten traditions.” The chef wiggled thick eyebrows down at Mikhail. The reminder of caterpillars was strong enough, he feared they’d crawl off. “A back-to-school jinx. She’ll be righto in a moment, I b’lieve.”
Even as he spoke, Liza stopped her crying. She lifted her head so rapidly, she bonked her noggin against the hovering, concerned fire extinguishers. “Guys, I’m fine.”
“Good,” he began, then watched in astonishment as she gave the fire extinguishers reassuring pats, as if cuddling nervous puppies.
“She’s not talking to us, boyo,” Chef McCreedy said, and strode off with another bearpaw swipe at Mikhail’s shoulder.
***
This week’s Odd Prompt was from nother Mike: It was a bright, sunny day, but all he/she could do was sob and cry…
I can’t wait to see what Leigh Kimmel does with: The sphinx had waited for centuries for the right question to be posed by a petitioner.
Come join the fun!
(Pssst. Mikhail and Liza’s original story can be found in this anthology…and look for more, coming soon!)
