Witching Games: The Fire Witch Chronicles 1, R.A. Lindo [top 100 books of all time checklist .txt] 📗

an obvious attempt to abandon the cause. “If they were bad eggs, we’d know about it by now.”

“We didn’t know about my mum until it was almost too late,” I counter, holding Noah’s gaze to shut him up. He’s being distracted by romantic leanings and as much as I get that, we’ve got a job to do. “We wait until they leave or make their move, whatever that’s going to be.”

“It might just be them flexing their muscles,” Conrad suggests, tapping my arm in a gesture of pause. He’s worried I’m spoiling for a fight which I’m not, but I do want answers so we can establish the truth of Alice Aradel’s supposed fears.

“Well, if we’re going to have a staring contest I think we’re going to need cake,” Noah says, rubbing his pot belly.

“You can’t still be hungry,” Lucy comments, the faint flames of the Promesiun charm decorating her hands.

Patting his belly, Noah adds, “It’s the night shift blues … always gets me.”

“Then don’t do them.”

“But then I wouldn’t see your lovely mug.”

Lucy shakes her head, deciding to return her attention to the static pair who look upwards at nothing in particular, as if they’ve got a seventh sense to the creatures moving in The Society Sphere. It adds to the enigma they’re clearly working hard to maintain: a pathetic waste of energy if you ask me.

At the end of the day, we’re all warriors fighting for the same cause. Well, that’s the theory, at least.

11

Shifting Winds

As the rooms in Poridian Parlour begin to empty, Noah focuses on the cake as we sit out the first part of the evening, maintaining our silent stand-off with the emotionless pair. It’s difficult to judge whether they’re just miserable gits passing the time, or if there’s more to it.

I shake my head when offered the final slice of cake — Noah and Conrad having demolished the rest — focusing my attention on the mood of the pair. If taking out a Nivrium wasn’t such an obvious move, I’d retrieve one from my Keepeasy and place it on the table. A glass of water poured into the water reader would activate the three silver lines, giving us more of a clue to the intentions of the emotionless pair.

Jacob’s right when he says I can be paranoid but, then again, I was right on the very first day I met Kaira, sitting in Quandary Corner and watching adults come-and-go in the middle of the night. They, of course, weren’t paying attention to me sat alone on the ground floor of The Cendryll, not doing a very good job of disguising their movements.

That little dance led to all sorts of madness, including being chased by Melackin and tracking a mysterious lady in white. The lady staring over at me isn’t dressed in white, silver-grey garments covering her body, and she isn’t trying to hide anything — but the lack of communication between the two of them has its own mystery, as if they want to stand out.

“Odin Blin,” whispers Noah through a mouthful of cake.

I can see why he’s got the pot belly now, being averse to anything nutritious.

“Who’s the lucky girl?” I ask, gesturing towards the static lady with the dead eyes.

“Neve Farraday,” Lucy adds, stirring her tea with a silver spoon. “They’re not the sort of people you see around here, normally stuck out in Drandok taming Silverbacks.”

“A miserable place for miserable people,” Conrad adds, getting impatient with the status quo. “Look, we either go over and say something or move on. There’s no law against sitting in silence and staring at people — maybe that’s their thing.”

“I say we introduce ourselves,” I suggest.

“You would,” Noah comments, never one to want to ruffle feathers. “Let’s just get out of here and have some fun. Isn’t that the point of being a Night Ranger? The ability to go wherever you want, when you want.”

“I’m with Guppy and Conrad,” Lucy adds, deactivating the Promesiun charm as she stands, indicating no desire for conflict.

As she does this, the pair of Domitus stand from the table near the entrance, flicking a glimmer of light into the air … light courtesy of the Spintz charm … a signal for something waiting outside.

“The Silverbacks,” I whisper. “Got to be. They’ve come to flex their muscles.”

“Silverbacks out here?” Noah queries, suddenly losing his appetite.

“Probably,” Conrad adds. “Ego and attitude; I’ve seen it all before. They’re obviously allowed to ride tame Silverbacks beyond Drandok: a little power play. Boring, if you ask me. Come on, let’s go and roam somewhere with a bit more fun.”

The sudden shudder causes us to pause, studying the pair as they make their exit towards whatever’s waiting for them outside. It’s the Riadek: Silverbacks with an attitude. I mean, what else makes that kind of racket in the middle of the night?

The old me would want to follow them to check out their training ground in Drandok, but that’s not my role now, maturity having mellowed me at some point. Instead, we head over to the window, catching sight of Odin and Neve Blin as the expected creatures descend from the sky, their huge wing span only rivalled by the Williynx.

If there was ever a statement of intent, this is it, risking bringing their Silverbacks into a busy realm beyond The Society Sphere. It isn’t illegal but it definitely isn’t encouraged, and I don’t like the statement; I don’t like it at all.

As Odin and Neve Blin climb onto their Silverbacks, they glance up at the window we’re stationed at: a strange smile touching Neve’s mouth.

“I told you it was for us,” I state. “They want something from us.”

“Like what?” Noah asks.

“Like a duel in the sky to test who’s boss,” Conrad suggests, rubbing his fingers together: a sign he’s plotting something.

“Well, we’ve got the best sky rider in the S.P.M.A.,” Lucy says, watching the figures as they roar through the sky, disappearing seconds later. “If they want a duel, let’s