Shoutingfreewas the easiest way to cause a riot in the Restes. People surged forward, surrounding the glass counter. Elara handed each customer one crispy, fresh choux puff.
“Wait.” Gaetan tried to get at the basket, but it was already empty. “What kind of magie is in those?”
“Just a little spark of something.” She winked. “Nothing to worry about.”
The pastries were bite-sized, perfect for the little bit of power she’d given to them. But the magie didn’t concern her. She focused on her customers’ faces, absorbing the way their brows tucked as they worked through the textures, crunchy then soft. Some licked their fingers, sucking away the caramelized sugar. Others savored the warm flavors with their eyes closed.
Elara beamed. They liked them.
“Oh.” A woman in green touched her chest. “Oh my. What is happening?”
Then, without warning, she tipped her head back and breathed a small, whipping flame. It was little more than a flash, but it lit up the dingy dining room.
The customers gasped as flickers of fire belched into the air. Children giggled, their eyes illuminated as they reached for the cinders that crackled and disappeared. A man blew smoke rings for them to chase around the room.
And there was laughter. More than she’d heard in a long time.
“What did I tell you?” She turned back to Gaetan and punched his shoulder. “It’s exactly what this place needs.”
The joy didn’t last. It never did.
Laughter turned to screaming.
“Help! Water! We need water!”
The harmless flames she’d intended were now pluming, devouring the curtains around the windows. Screams filled the room as people watched yet another building in their neighborhood burn. Some of the children were too young to remember the smell of ash and cinders, but everyone else? Like Elara, they would never forget. Now she would be responsible for destroying Gaetan’s livelihood and a staple in the Restes.
This wasn’t right.
Where had she gone wrong?
The answer came as she watched Lisette Plouffe’s beautiful face curl into ash. Powerful intention yielded powerful magie, and Elara had poured all her anger at her boss, the contest, and Lisette Plouffe into that second batch of pastries.
Now that magie was destroying her last chance at owning her own bakery.
“Out of the way!” Gaetan shoved her aside, dousing the flames with a bucket of river water. The fire hissed out.
The front door slammed open, sucking the smoke out and around the form of a black-coated officer.
The room fell silent.
“What’s all this?”
Elara hadn’t moved from her spot, throat horrifically dry and eyes wide as the guard came closer and closer. Her heartbeat tripled to the agonizing stalk of his bootsteps.
“I…”
“An accident.” Gaetan stepped in front of her. “Cigarette caught the curtains.”
The officer took him in, raking him from head to toe before approaching the burnt window. The customers shifted, not a pastry in sight as the man inspected the damage.
Eventually, he turned, gave them all one lasting glance, and left.
Gaetan faced the window, silhouetted in murky sunlight filtered through the ashen panes.
“Gaetan…” She reached for him.
“This,” he seethed. “This is why you can’t keep a job. Why no one will hire you.”
