“It’s supply and demand, Adraa. Even if you worked all night and all day you couldn’t supply the entire country or, blood, the entire continent. It’s a cute experiment for Belwar. But this is commerce and profit.”
I shake him against the wall when he doesn’t continue. “You disrupted an entire market; you cannot control something like that. The rest of the world wants to see in the dark too.”
I give him a cold, hard stare, and the flames on my arm jolt.
“Okay, okay, there is this one distributor. Said he would pay triple for half of my firelight supply. I have a family same as everyone.”
“Name the distributor.”
“I don’t know the man in charge, just the guy, practically a boy, who picks them up.”
“Name. Now.”
“Goes by Nightcaster, obviously a cage-casting name, but I didn’t ask. The money…it was more than I had ever been offered for anything. Please.”
“Nightcaster?” I drop Basu and he tumbles against the counter. He really is working with the Vencrin, then.
Riya gives me a look of wide-eyed confusion. “Who is Nightcaster?” she asks.
I deflate into stumbling surprise. I know the name all too well. Once a sport, cage casting has turned into an illegal fighting ring where wizards and witches battle and the audience gambles and soaks up the violence. The biggest ring in the country, the one run by the Vencrin, is only a few blocks from here. It’s called the Underground, not the most creative name given its whereabouts, but Nightcaster is one of its prime contenders.
I know because I am too.
“You bloody bitch.” Basu pats down the sparks on his kurta. The skin around his neckline is no more than sunburned. I’ll show him how bitchy I can—
Riya grabs my arm. “Rani, don’t.” She’s using the Rani talk on me? I glance between her and Basu. In both their eyes I must look enraged, a fire needing to be extinguished. I relax, and behind me, Riya sighs.
“You won’t sell to them ever again,” I command.
“I can’t do that. They expect—”
“You seem to think I care about what the Vencrin expect.”
“V-V-Vencrin?” Basu stammers.
“You don’t even realize who you are selling to?” Pathetic, just pathetic.
“Please, Rani.” Basu steps around the last saddlebag of firelight, protective and fatherly. Fatherly protection only looks nice when it’s a living being; any inanimate object and one just looks absurd. That’s Basu, greedy and ridiculous to try to plead for something that is not his.I’mfirelight’s mother.
He continues, oblivious. “Give me this batch and then I can work something out with them. I need time. Ineedthis shipment.”
“I’m stopping this now.”
“Expensive firelight is better than no firelight. You would be destroying the East Village if you take it. They count onmysupplies,mydeliveries.”
“They count onme. Youare the one who has failed them.”
My left arm extends and before I can think about the spell, I cast.“Yatana Agni Tviserif,”I chant over and over until the first word spills into the last. I don’t know exactly what I expect to happen, but when the orbs start to quiver, I chant a little louder, a little angrier. Maybe I could make them defective or something. But in my head I imagine it: the firelight leaving their containers and Basu’s control and coming back to me.
“What are you doing? Stop!” Basu shouts.
Then it isn’t just the orbs vibrating but also the magic inside them. An orb-filled box crashes to the ground. The clattering drowns out Basu’s cries. Even Riya tries to yell into the rattle of noise. The orbs, my magic, they are obeying me, trying desperately to reconnect. It’s only a few at first, but with another chant, hundreds burst from the orbs or ghost through the sphere’s seams and fly toward my left hand. The fire turns into red smoke as it amasses and slithers up my arm. So much power! I’ve never tasted such strength. This came from…me?
I breathe for a moment as Basu and Riya stare in silence. Then I reach toward the last saddlebag and Basu panics. I see the spell on his lips a moment before it’s cast.
“Noooo!” Basu and Riya both roar. Riya thrusts herself in front of me as I begin the counterspell. She pushes me to the ground and hurls a purple shield spell. It’s too late. Basu had three seconds on her, easy. His yellow light breaks through Riya’s half-crafted shield and swerves around her, blazing toward me. It would be easier to concentrate if I weren’t falling through the air, but whatever. Riya had good intentions and I can see everything, feel every drop of my magic hovering on my Touch and ready to explode. I hit the ground as Basu’s yellow spell hits my counterspell in midair. I can taste his magic like it was uttered from my own mouth. A knockout spell. Oh, Basu. You really thought you were going to get away with this.
It takes only a second for my rebound spell to swallow Basu’s magic and redirect itself. In this moment my Touch seems to have a personality of its own, and it can feel easy victory. No contest. The red smoke smacks Basu’s chest and blows him against the counter. A moment passes in which he staggers to gain his footing. I sent a minimal counterspell. It shouldn’t even knock him…Basu’s eyes go wide. He slumps, and slides down the counter, and with a thump his butt hits the ground. Never mind, I guess it was enough to render him unconscious. Riya was right. Maybe I don’t realize how powerful a red forte I truly am. Maybe I could have really hurt him.
