“Sh-Shannon,” she stuttered, “we should really, uh… go. Pacifica’s probably ready to throw a fit by now, y’know? We’re a lot later than…” Winia trailed off, her heartbeat growing louder in her ears. She didn’t see anything around them. Was something wrong? But she knew the answer—there was trouble nearby, made worse by the fact that it was something she couldn’t see.
All of a sudden, a thousand thoughts crowded her brain. Were they about to be attacked? Would Shannon protect her? For a second, her fear of the imminent danger was overcome by a deeper, more permanent fear: if someone was after Pacifica, she and her family would leave, and Winia would be alone again. It was probably selfish of her to have made them stay in the first place, considering who they were. They lived a life of constant danger, a precarious existence she couldn’t possibly fathom.
Winia’s eyes darted to Shannon’s sword. For a fleeting second, she wondered if he’d ever killed someone with it.
“Hn.”
Shannon’s murmur snapped Winia out of her frantic thoughts. Her nerves on end, she watched as he carefully removed his hand from his sword.
“Maybe not.” He bent to pick up the packages. “Maybe I just… hn. Never mind.”
Winia’s jaw nearly dropped. Huh? she thought. Is that… it?
“What were you saying earlier?” Shannon asked, balancing the goods on his arm. As he picked up the last paper bag, something clattered.
Shannon stopped. Winia, her brain slowly reentering reality, looked at what he had.
Those… those were the plates.
Shannon winced. He crinkled the bag, and it once again emitted the sound of broken porcelain.
“Oops.”
Winia’s heart began to slow. She swallowed as relief flooded through her veins.
“It must have happened when you dropped them,” she sighed as she took the bag from him. “Well, that investment didn’t last long.”
Shannon dropped his head.
“I’m sorry, Winia.”
She waved it off. “Maybe you should just go back to the inn. I’m sure Pacifica’s waiting, and I can go replace these myself.”
She could feel Shannon’s disapproval, but she refused to look up as she balanced the bag back on Shannon’s stack. She needed to leave and clear her head. She was embarrassed and confused.
“I’m not sure that’s a good—”
“Don’t run with the bag,” she interrupted. “You’ll just break the plates that are still in one piece.” Without so much as waiting for a reply, Winia sped off in the opposite direction, her eyes fixed squarely on the sidewalk beneath her feet. She was relieved that Shannon didn’t follow.
Winia swallowed hard and picked up the pace. A few moments of Shannon’s concern and she’d turned into a complete mess. She had become more worried about the Casulls leaving than about how the Casulls might someday get her killed.
Winia squeezed shut her eyes. What is all this? And what’s wrong with me?
The light that seeped in through the window had turned the amber of sunset. Pacifica, slumped at the dining room table beside her sister, made a point of flopping her arms out across the table.
“What’s taking them so long?’’ Pacifica complained. Mechanical clocks were a luxury item the Big Bear Inn couldn’t afford, so she wasn’t sure what time it was. “I want dinner.”
Without looking up, Raquel calmly moved her tea away from Pacifica’s jiggling hands. “I don’t know,” Raquel replied, her voice still just the barest bit hoarse from her cold. “I suppose we’ll just have to wait.”
Pacifica glanced at the book Raquel read. She knew that the Encyclopedia of Magical Spells would only include the magic officially recognized by the Royal Academy of Sorcery, which meant no special magic or military magic, the latter of which was restricted to learn, let alone use.
Then it’s a good thing she’s good enough to combine basic spells, Pacifica thought.
“Jeez,” Pacifica complained, dropping her head on the table. “How much shopping could they possibly be doing?”
“Mm.”
“Do you think something happened?”
“Mm.”
Pacifica glared at her sister. Raquel continued reading her book, oblivious to Pacifica’s gaze.
“Hunh,” Pacifica tried. “Maybe the two of them are too busy kissing in some abandoned alley.”
“Mm.”
“Winia is Shannon’s type, isn’t she?”
“He told me once that he prefers girls with long hair,” Raquel answered without missing a beat. “He was pretty popular with the girls at Sunday school, so I’m sure he’s thought about it. He said he didn’t place particular preference on a body type, but rather liked long hair.”
Pacifica absently fingered her own pinned-back hair, then dropped her hand and snorted. “That’s so like you, Raquel.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You have this spaced-out look on your face all the time, but you actually know exactly what’s going on.”
“I’m not spaced-out,” Raquel replied in a spaced-out voice.
“See?”
Raquel finally closed her book and looked up. She smiled very slightly, almost mischievously… and Pacifica shrank back in her chair. She knew that look, and it meant trouble.
“Oh, Pacifica,” Raquel hummed. “You just can’t get enough of Shannon, can you?”
Pacifica’s eyes shot wide open. “What?!” she shrieked.
‘Don’t take my brother away from me’!” Raquel cooed in a baby voice, imitating Pacifica.
Pacifica felt the blood rush to her head. Th-that’s not fair! she protested inwardly. No one’s allowed to bring up embarrassing childhood memories to make a point!
“Do you remember?” Raquel asked. “You were five years old. Shannon was about to go play with a girl from the neighborhood—”
“No!” Pacifica snapped. “I don’t remember at all! I completely forgot!” To emphasize her point, she banged both fists on the table. “And why are you being so cruel?!”
Raquel watched her cup of tea rock precariously. When she looked back up, a slight sulk pulled at the space between her eyebrows.
“You never come to me for attention,” Raquel said sadly.
“I’m not after anyone’s attention!” Pacifica snarled. Crossing her arms, she angrily slouched in her chair.
“…Pacifica.”
Sensing a slight change of tone in Raquel’s voice, Pacifica glanced up.