Firebrand…what does it even mean?I’d never mustered up the courage to ask Sitri. I shift uncomfortably on my feet as embarrassment flames at my face. I’m nothisanything.
“It’s still impressive, Baga.”
She ignores that, clicking her tongue as she strokes her fingers over the bird's head. Her age is hard to peg. She doesn’t look particularly old, probably just past middle age, but yet life does not appear to have been particularly kind to her, her skin withered, possibly hardened by smoke from years bent over a broiling cauldron. “You can teach her how to help you,” Sitri says.
“It’s more work than worth,” Baga spits, throwing up her hands, the bird with them. She looks at the bird clutched in her fist like she’s only just remembered it. “She is no use to me.” She suddenly snaps the bird’s neck with a sharp crack and I wince.
“If I had more time, you know I would do it myself…” Sitri continues, unfazed. He tosses a quick glance in my direction before lowering his voice. “And, if I knew what the hell I was doing.”
Baga meanders over to the middle fireplace, picks up a large spoon, and gives the bubbling cauldron a quick stir before she tosses the entire bird in. It hits the liquid with a quiet plop, and the potion simmers and steams in response. She works her way to the opposite wall to peruse her vials.
“The Wall has affected her. I’ve been trying to work with her, but I feel like I’m going about it in all the wrong ways.” He drags a hand over his face. “It’s almost as if her magic has disconnected from her somehow.”
Baga ignores him, pulling a few vials from the shelf before she makes her way back to the cauldrons. She seasons one, and when black acrid smoke emits from the concoction, she claps a hand over her mouth. “Sitri! That was wrong one. You are distracting me!” she accuses.
“Can’t you just look at her? And tell me what you think?” He asks, voice taking on a desperate like quality.
Baga utters a low growl before turning scrutinizing eyes on me. Muttering foreign words under her breath, she approaches, tugs one of my hands out from my side and drags a single finger over my palm. She makes a displeased noise as it drops back to my side before she pinches at my forearm and then my upper arm. “She’s weak!”
I bristle, teeth clamping together as the daemon stirs. It hadn’t completely calmed since its display outside and it flickers a couple of sharp shocks in warning. I shoot Sitri a meaningful look. I’m not working with this woman whether she agrees or not. He ignores me, turning back to Baga.
“But she’s powerful. See for yourself,” he says, jerking a head in my direction.
“I saw when you arrived.”
They share a look. Baga closes the distance between us, lifting her callused hand over me. I quickly dart behind Sitri’s large form, and he pushes me back out in front of him. “Pan, hold still,” he says in warning.
I scowl at him as Baga lifts her hand over me once more. He returns it with a look of disdain that probably translates togrow up.
Sitri’s magic usually feels soft like a caress but Baga’s feels like an invasion, chilling me to the bone. She doesn’t linger or search. She finds the daemon immediately, wraps it, and it expels.
She throws a hand up. “Ah!” She shouts abruptly as if she’s scolding a child from touching a stove as she blocks the magic back with her own. The stray pieces of my hair that have slipped from my braid are pushed back. I’m a little disappointed she’s blocked it successfully. I don’t miss the flash of surprise in her widening eyes as she lowers her hand.
“See,” Sitri says.
Her expression clears swiftly as she and Sitri share another look I can’t decipher. “Big power, weak vessel. Dangerous combination,” she says finally.
I cross my arms over my chest.
“She does havesomecontrol,” Sitri argues.
“She knocked you on your ass,” she cackles.
“She wanted to.”
“I did not!”
He turns to me. “You didn’tmeanto.” He cocks his head to the side. “But you kind ofwantedto.”
He looks so smug the daemon pangs in response, and I want to do it all over again. Damn, he’s right. I quickly avert my gaze.
“You have ideas?”
Baga peers at me for a long moment that feels like an eternity, like she can see the daemon lashing under my skin. She gives a single nod as she turns back to Sitri. “Ideas.”
Sitri flashes a wide grin, revealing those two slightly crooked teeth. “I knew you would.”
Baga clicks her tongue as she retreats back to tinker in her cauldrons. “But I cannot help her.”
