I blink at him, shifting my weight on the floor. The late afternoon light streaming through the tall windows catches the dust motes dancing in the air between us. “Excuse me?”
His tail flicks once, sharp and unimpressed, the tip twitching like a metronome marking time for my failures.“You’re so focused on what’s happening outside these walls that you’ve forgotten what you’re actually here to do.”
I push up on my hands, the rug soft against my palms, narrowing my eyes as I lean forward. “I have not forgotten anything.” The words come out sharper than I intended, defensive and brittle.
“You closed your shop. You retreated to this manor like some tragic gothic heroine. You’re sitting on the floor arguing with me instead of doing the one thing that actually matters.”His ears flatten slightly, and I swear if he could hold up his paws and tick off my mistakes on his little pink beans, he absolutely would.
“I am not arguing,” I snap out loud, my voice echoing slightly in the high-ceilinged room.
“You are stalling,”he replies with just as much bite, his whiskers twitching with annoyance.
I open my mouth to argue again, to defend myself, to list every single valid reason I have for needing a break from the whispers that follow me down Main Street, from the stares that linger too long when I pass the hardware store, from the quiet judgment that seems to seep from every doorway and storefront like fog rolling in from the mountains. Nothing comes out except a frustrated exhale.
Because he is not wrong. The moment Councilman Montgomery left The Cackling Hen with his parting shots, I left the cafe. I closed up my shop and made a very quick, very intentional walk back to the manor and stayed there. It’s not lost on me what that break-in might mean. The grimoires are here,exactly where they should be, and for once that’s one problem I don’t have to worry about.
“You have nothing to prove to them,”Sir continues, his voice quieter now, though no less sharp.“Not to Montgomery with his small mind and smaller magic. Not even to the locals who should know better but choose willful ignorance instead.”
My shoulders drop a fraction, some of the tension that’s been living there for days finally beginning to slip loose.
“But you do have something to claim.”He continues, padding closer until he’s within arm’s reach, then reaching out with one perfect paw to rest it on my knee, the contact warm and surprisingly grounding.
My gaze lifts back to his, my breath catching as something shifts in my chest. I’ve begun to expect that the little magic I can feel comes only when I’m experiencing extreme emotion, but this is different. This feels controlled, intentional, like a door I’ve been pushing against finally beginning to crack open.
My hands press into the floor as I shift my sitting position. Something presses back against my palm, solid and cool to the touch, the wrongness of it has me pulling my hand up in alarm. My breath catches as I look down. Shock doesn’t begin to comprehend what I’m seeing.
With shaky fingers I pick up the silver ring, letting it rest in my outstretched hand. The same ring I know for a fact had been sitting in a glass case at Bits and Bobs.
The metal is warm against my skin, a pulse of recognition, the same insistent pull I felt when I first laid eyes on it in Lucien’s shop.
“Sir?” I look up at my Familiar, dumbstruck. “This ring belongs?—
“To you,”he replies matter-of-factly.“It has answered your call.”
My eyebrows rise in question, “Call for what.”
“Your magic,”he says simply.“Put the ring on, Keisha.”
I glance back down at the ring resting on my palm. The enormity of this moment, something old and important and undeniably mine.
“Keisha, get out of your head and put it on,”Sir says insistently.
My fingers curl around the band before I lift it. Hesitating for a second, before shaking off my nerves.
“Okay,” I say, the word coming out smaller than I intended, the silence around us, thick with anticipation.
I slide the ring onto the middle finger of my right hand. I let out a little laugh of surprise as it fits perfectly. Like it was never meant to sit anywhere else.
As soon as the thought crosses my mind, the metal warms almost immediately, as if responding to something waking up changes inside of me. The faint magic I’ve been chasing sharpens into something clearer, reachable.
“You can feel it, can’t you?”Sir asks.
“More than I’ve ever felt before,” I say in awe.
“Good. Now, let’s find more.”Sir instructs.
I drag a hand down my face, exhaling slowly as I force myself to let go of everything else. The town, the rumors, my aunt, the broken wards, all of it gets pushed to the side whether I like it or not.
“Fine,” I mutter, adjusting my position on the floor, straightening my spine until it forms a proper line, shaking out my hands to release the nervous energy that’s been building under my skin. “But if this doesn’t work, even with the ring and I end up sitting here like an idiot feeling nothing but carpet burn and disappointment, I am absolutely blaming you.”
