Miranda grabbed my hand, and Draken’s hand on her other side. The small witch began dragging us in the direction of the nearest tea shop, which had flashing, magical letters advertising gourmet coffee and ice cream on a sandwich board, and a wide selection of magical teas. The letters changed color and font style, then morphed into images of Magicals drinking tea with pink cupcakes and big smiles.
I glanced over my shoulder long enough to see the monoceri begin to trot off, carriage in tow, their glossy black heads and sharp horns held high in the air.
They broke into a faster canter as I watched.
“Where’s the school?” I asked, right as Miranda reached for the front door to the shop. The door knocked into a delicate bell as Miranda pushed it open with one hand. “You said it’s located right at the center of town?”
“We’ll have to find a map at some point, I suppose,” Miranda said cheerfully. “Or simply cast a location spell. But we weresupposed to be dropped off only a few blocks from the front gates, so we could also just stumble around until we find it. I can’t imagine it’ll take long.”
Her happiness was infectious, and I laughed.
“I like the stumbling idea,” I told her. “I wouldn’t mind going into the used bookstore I just saw, either?”
“?Or the Antique Magical Objects Emporium,” Draken added enthusiastically.
“Do you have your own wings?” Miranda asked me.
I felt my smile falter.
“No,” I admitted. “Do I need them? I thought the school provided wings to students who don’t have any?”
Miranda shrugged. “They do. You don’tneedthem. But learning to fly’s a lot easier if you have your own wings. Wing-bonds are alchemical, so using the generic ones provided by the school will make it harder. Wings aresupposedto bond to your magic… your whole being, really. They’re supposed to feel like an extension of your body.”
“Oh.” I glanced between them. “You both have yours?”
Draken nodded along with Miranda. “I got an old pair of Dad’s. Still better than the school’s, but not reallymine.I’d really like my own set.”
“Have either of you flown before?” I asked my new friends curiously. “Is that something one does, prior to taking classes?”
“A lot of students will have done, I imagine. Even those who aren’t yet legal. I haven’t,” Draken added, then nudged Miranda as we walked up to the counter. “She has, the brat.”
“Only one time.” Seeming to think about that, Miranda choked out a low laugh. “It was a disaster. I wouldn’t have done it at all, but my cousins were all making fun of me, and since they’re all, like, ten years older, I blame them, not me.” Smiling in some embarrassment, she shrugged. “I talked my parents intogetting me wings for my birthday last year. I thought maybe if I’d got my own, it wouldn’t bequiteso traumatic.”
She nudged my arm. “My birthday’s in October, by the way. Just so you know when to buy me presents. Drakey’s a few months younger. He turned nineteen in February, but they didn’t offer a flying course at our old school, so we decided to wait on getting licensed until we got here. We were both traveling all summer anyway.”
I knew she was teasing about presents, but I made a mental note of both months.
“Technically, you’re not allowed to fly outside a class environment until you pass your exam,” Miranda explained. “But it’s no secret a lot of parents teach their kids on the sly.”
“What happened?” I asked. “With your first attempt?”
Miranda let out a giggle, her cheeks turning pink.
“Oh, it probably looked quite humorous from the outside, which is why my stupid cousins will never let me forget it.” She snorted a laugh. “I flew sideways, then up, then bumped along the ground for a bit… then up again… thenstraightdown when I panicked. Coming down, I slammed into the upper branches of my uncle’s Jacaranda tree… aaaand broke my arm and started screaming bloody murder. In my defense, I was twelve.”
Draken rolled his eyes, but from his expression, he’d heard the story before.
“Dingbat,” he said fondly.
Miranda bought us cappuccinos, and we took them to a window seat with large, comfy cushions so we could watch the street outside. Another two-story carriage drew up as we got situated, and, pretty soon, more students began popping into existence, which meant they must be first years, like us.
“How many are in our class?” I asked. “Total, I mean?”
“No idea.” Draken shrugged. “I didn’t see that written anywhere, did you, Mir?”
“No.” She shook her lavender head, blowing on foam and chocolate. “I suspect they keep the numbers vague on purpose.”
I frowned, wondering why they would do that, but before I could ask, Miranda lowered her mug and nodded at the window.
