EDITORS PICK 2020. A new student doesn't think her mother understands how magic works. Inyanga Numbia will be the first in her family to go to Magicians' College, and she's going to find out.
"Why doesn't Magicians' College just let anyone in?"
"Won...
A/N: This story was previously published as a standalone book and has been lightly revised now. I owe a tremendous gratitude to everyone who has already checked it out, and I feel this short story collection is a better place for it. Thanks for the support! If you already read it, feel free to skip!
Hoppla! Dieses Bild entspricht nicht unseren inhaltlichen Richtlinien. Um mit dem Veröffentlichen fortfahren zu können, entferne es bitte oder lade ein anderes Bild hoch.
Bay Works For the Magicians At the Cloud
Bay wished Song had waited until after closing to come harass her.
"Yue needs to pay. The full amount. Now."
Song leaned on the glass counter and hammered her fingers on the Cloud Canopy Cafe menu for Septembris IV, 1220SE. Still in a three-piece suit (and still a little high strung) from work, Bay's novia had been following her around as she dropped off dishes, half the time humming and hawing over what to order, and half the time criticizing Bay's life choices. At least she troubled to lower her voice. "If you don't confront her by the time I'm done eating my cazuela—"
At least she troubled to walk with Bay and order at the counter, rather than shouting up at her from a moonlit table for two.
Every table in the Cloud caught a little moonlight — since the levitating restaurant's dome ceiling let in the glow. A little starlight, too, even on unclear nights, because technically radiant energy from the stars fueled every lamp on every table.
Bay tapped the screen of the Stellar, a brand new magical register device, and avoided looking up to make eye contact. "I'll talk to her right after I bring your iced Cha. Tap sign here." The magic tablet flashed brighter than the cafe's mood lighting; Bay hadn't figured out yet how to dim the screen. It blinded her — and, without looking up, she imagined its blank gleam highlighted Song's angular face and her serious glower.
Gaze on the Stellar, she could see that Song wasn't tapping. "Use your finger." Bay twitched her index.
"I'm serious, woman," said Song. "Yue needs to pay you. She always does this, and you can't keep letting her boss you around. That's my job." She didn't even laugh saying that, which was odd. It sounded like a joke, but her eyes were not smiling. "You have two choices. One of them is to change nothing, roll over, and let her walk over your back again. The other is to talk to Yue today, and end this. Stand up to her!"
A lot went unsaid there, the constant context. How Song was sick of hearing Bay complain. Always broke, relying on Song all the time, becoming financially dependent or whatever, because Yue was always behind.
"I hear you. I'm listening. And I'm going."
"How do I know you're actually doing it this time?"
"Please. You'll hear the shouting."
Song leaned in and hushed, "She's going to shout at you? Has she been shouting at you? You know what—" she leaned out and swept her arms wide "—I don't even. I don't even want to know. How much is it?"
