Fourteen years ago…

  “No te entiendo,” grumbles Elena. “You were doing so poorly for years, and now you’re top of the class, y el mundo entero is singing your praises. Mamí never stops talking about you or how powerful you’ve gotten. Everything is always ‘Clara this’ y ‘Clara that’! I never hear the end of it. Y después Sebastián is suddenly behaving like a saint? Did you threaten him?”

  I stare at her as I tear the meat off my pork chop with my teeth, and chew it thoroughly. Adrian sits next to her, appearing panicked, nervously dodging her hand as she swings her fork around as she speaks.

  “Hola Clara. Elena.” Cristian takes a seat next to me.

  Diana makes a high-pitched humming sound, and takes a seat next to Sebastian. Relief washes over him, and he’s able to smile for the first time today. He’s been that way lately. Diana has a way of knowing just how much she should speak before overwhelming him.

  “Cristian, you, too… How are you suddenly at the top of the class? I thought for sure you were going to drop out, and go back to your family’s farm.” She scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest as if she’s the one that’s been insulted.

  Adrian’s fork clatters to the floor, as he breaks into a coughing fit becoming several shades darker. Elena smacks his back several times until he stops.

  “Mira,” huffs Cristian, taking a calming breath, placing his opened palms on the table. “You might be used to having everything your way, and having no concept of hard work-”

  I put a hand on his shoulder, shaking my head in warning. “Cristian-”

  “No, Clara,” he shrugs my hand off. “I’m not going to listen to your cousin insult me. Just because I was struggling in the beginning, doesn’t mean I can’t work hard to get better. I know you’re used to having things come easily for you, pero I worked hard, and Clara has helped me, so you can take that smart mouth of yours and-”

  Adrian growls, and bares his teeth, phasing slightly into his dog form; his fangs and ears coming out.

  Cristian rolls his eyes, and tuts. “Control your mutt.”

  Elena glares at me. “Control your boyfriend.”

  “You really should work on talking to people,” I mutter. “Cristian is a person. He can control himself. Adrian is a familiar, and can also control himself.”

  “Come, Adrián. We don’t need to sit here with these two cheaters.”

  Adrian frowns, picking up his plate, and following Elena to another table. Pity is all I can feel for both of them… mostly Adrian, because he has to deal with Elena all the time.

  “Well.” I smile at Cristian. “How are you?”

  “Why do you put up with that?” he says, picking up his fork.

  “Eh,” I shrug, putting a spoonful of rice into my mouth. “I just imagine she represents most of the people I’ll be dealing with on a daily basis when I finally take over the family estate, and have to deal with all the stupid política; bitter, stupid, and disrespectful. This is a training opportunity for me.”

  He scoffs. “Are they going to train you to have a backbone?”

  “No. They only train me to have babies.”

  He snorts out a laugh, covering his mouth before saying, “I don’t mind training you for that.”

  I slap his arm, my cheeks burning. “?Cristian! What is wrong with you? First, you fight with Elena, and now you’re making crude remarks. My family already dislikes you. I hope you’re not going to say things like that around them.”

  “Your family is going to dislike me no matter what I say or do. At least let me have fun.”

  “?Ay, Querida Selene, ayúdame! This man is going to kill me, or my family will. Either way, I will not be living a long life.”

  He chuckles, and kisses my cheek. “Relax. I’ll behave.”

  “You better. I’ll see you later. I have to go.”

  “Already?”

  “I have training to do. Headmaster Eduardo said Sebastian and I can be of some help to the community, so we’re volunteering our time to eventually help with La Guardia.”

  “Your parents agreed to this?” He narrows his eyes at me, his smile gone. “Isn’t that strange to you? Aren’t you the herededa of the family name?”

  “Mamí said it will help the people see me as someone who will keep them safe. It’s not really that dangerous. I’ll just deal with petty crimes, use a few spells to fix things… Little things like that.”

  “Well, Protectora Clara,” he says, raising his water cup towards me. “Buena suerte. May you live a longer life than política and ill-tempered cousins.”

  “Thank you, I’ll try. See you later.”

  Today’s sparring volunteer is a man with dark hair down his back, and a scrawny body, named Manuel. I underestimated how quickly he could move. As he runs past me, I lift roots out of the ground below his legs, and wrap his body in it, twisting and pulling them until I’m almost certain he cannot escape. He screams, falling over, hitting the ground with a loud thud. I used to cushion my opponent’s fall before with a bed of moss, but after the first few times, my trainer discouraged me, telling me not to be ‘soft’. Sebastian rushes to his side, taking a step back when Manuel swipes at him. Manuel rips the roots apart with a fire spell, then lunges towards Sebastian. The moment I begin running to aid him, I’m tackled by Manuel’s familiar, a squirrel named Tosk. With a yelp, I try to get him off, but he only tangles himself up in my hair, making knots in it to blind me. Sebastian is making all sorts of grunting noises, and I can only assume he’s fighting against Manuel and his barrage of rocks, a technique he seemed partial to.

  With a lungful of air, I cast a spell to cover my head in a bubble of water, and I can feel Tosk ease his grip on my hair as he struggles to breathe. Using a wind spell to blow the water off my head, I run towards the sound of Sebastian’s cries, desperately trying to get tangled hair off my face. Just when I think Tosk is dealt with, I feel his little claws climbing up my leg. I scream, shaking my feet wildly, feeling him holding on to my stocking.

  “Noooo!” I whine. “?Por favor! Let gooooo! I don’t want to hurt you!”

  Tosk cackles, tangling himself in the frills of my skirt. I spin in a circle until I’m dizzy, stopping only when Tosk flies off my skirt, losing his grip. It takes a moment for me to regain my balance, and for the world to stop spinning. Just as I lay eyes on Sebastian, who is busy flinging rocks away using a powerful wind spell, Tosk is already launching towards me.

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  “?Mier-”

  “Clara, look out!”

  A boulder comes flying at my face. I grab Tosk out of the air, holding my hand out to shatter the boulder to pieces, shielding Tosk from the shower of pebbles.

  “Tosk!” shouts Manuel. “Tosk!”

  Manuel scoops Tosk out of my hands, pressing him to his cheek.

  “What is going on here?” cries Profesor Da Rocha.

  Profesor Da Rocha is our trainer, and also runs the training for the new recruits of La Guardia when he’s not teaching combat magic at the academy.

  “She saved Tosk,” says Manuel. “Thank you, Clara! Thank you!”

  “Helping your foes is a sign of weakness!” Spittle sprays out of his mouth as he shouts, and I’m grateful to be out of the line of fire.

  “We’re just training,” mutters Sebastian, wiping his cheek. “Tosk is not a foe, he’s a training partner.”

  “You’re talking back at me, boy?” Profesor Da Rocha spits at the ground. “Know your place. And you!”

  He approaches Manuel. Looking down at Tosk, who is still breathing heavily in his Mauel’s hands. He reaches out for him. Tosk leaps out of his range, running up Manuel’s arm, to bury himself into Manuel’s hair. Manuel takes a step back, his hands stiff, preparing an earth spell.

  “How can I expect you to train the future protector of Ibis Islands if you cannot even keep your fucking familiar safe from your own spells?” A vein sticks out of his now-red face.

  Manuel wipes his face, a controlled rage behind his eyes. “I’m sorry, Profesor Da Rocha. It won’t happen again.”

  “It best not. Clara, your mother will be hearing from me.”

  Tears prickle the corners of my eyes, and I wipe them away angrily with my palm when they spill. “Sí, Profesor Da Rocha.”

  “Get back to class. Both of you.”

  Manuel and I watch Professor Da Rocha walk off, leaving us behind on the training grounds. Manuel whistles, and two river striders waddle over, wagging their tail feathers happily when Manuel gives them treats. River striders are very large, colorful, flightless birds with webbed feet, and water-resistant feathers. These particular ones have been trained to transport people over rough terrain and small bodies of water between the academy and the training grounds. They’re also extremely food motivated.

  I place a hand on mine, aptly named Azul because its feathers are various shades of bright blue, and it shakes its head happily, most likely expecting a treat.

  “Sorry,” says Manuel. “I can speak to your mother for you, if you’d like.”

  “That’s not necessary,” I murmur, fighting back more tears. “Is Tosk okay?”

  Manuel reaches into his hair, and holds out a trembling Tosk, who doesn’t open his eyes. “He’s fine. Sometimes he’s just dramatic.”

  “I’m sorry, Tosk,” I coo.

  Tosk peeks through one open eye. His ears stand up at attention, then he chitters happily, leaping towards me. A shudder runs down my body when his little claws climb up my arm. Sebastian quickly catches Tosk, and places him back into Manuel’s hand.

  “Sorry about that. I think he forgets that not everyone can tolerate that feeling.”

  Tosk goes into his human form; a scrawny man, about Manuel’s height, with large, dark eyes, brown hair with red tips, a small button nose, and bucked teeth. He gives me a flourished bow. “Thank you, Miss Reyes.”

  “You’re welcome. How are you feeling?”

  He glances over at Manuel, who returns him a smile. “I’m fine. We should get you back to class.”

  “Maybe if I return home early, and finish my chores, Mother won’t be too upset,” I think aloud, getting on the back of the river strider.

  “Profesor Da Rocha has no reason to get upset with you, especially if you’re to protect Islas de Ibis. You instinctively protect those around you, and you’re an extremely powerful mystic. You should be proud of yourself, not afraid of your mother,” Manuel huffs, climbing on the back of his river strider, holding out a hand towards Tosk. “Profesor Da Rocha doesn’t understand what it’s truly like to be- Well, to be in your position. But what do I know?”

  “Well,” I murmur. “I’m sure he has his reasons…”

  Tosk leaps towards Manuel, and goes into his animal form, making his way up Manuel’s arm, settling on his shoulder. I give Sebastian an uneasy look. Sebastian rolls his eyes, going into his owl form, then glides into my lap with his back to me.

  “Lo siento, Sebastian,” I say quietly, running a hand gently over his feathers as his little claws sink into my dress. “This will be quick.”

  Sebastian is not a fan of the river striders. I’m not exactly sure why, but I think it has something to do with the fact that they are a much larger bird than he is, even when he’s in his human form. He shakes his head, with a quiet hiss.

  “Would you like a treat when we get back?”

  He allows himself to fall back, so that he can look into my face, his large golden eyes scanning my face. “Such as?”

  I run my fingers lightly over his head, noticing the way he slowly shuts his eyes as I do so. “Do you like arroz con dulce?” He peeks up at me through one eye, then shuts it again, sinking deeper into my lap.

  “I do.”

  “I’ll make that for you, then.”

  “Your trainer says you are weak,” Mother comments.

  “My training partner does not,” I huff, peeling the skin off a piece of ginger. “Just ask Sebastian.”

  Mother and I turn to look at Sebastian, who seems to be distracted by the bowl of raisins sitting in front of him.

  “Baz?” I call, trying to get his attention.

  He looks over at me, appearing confused. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “Tell mami what my training partner-”

  “Do you really have to put the raisins in it?” he asks, looking back at the bowl. “I don’t like the way it tastes with raisins.”

  “What’s wrong with raisins?” asks Mother, putting her hands on her hips.

  “I’ll leave the raisins out for your portion,” I say, cutting up the ginger in large chunks. “Tell mami what Manuel said.”

  “Uh, he said we’re doing good,” Sebastian mumbles.

  Mother looks at me unimpressed.

  “Sebastian,” I say, raising my voice. “Tell her what he said just before we got back from training.”

  Sebastian mumbles incoherently, looking frustrated.

  “I’m putting the raisins in,” I say, curtly.

  “No!” Sebastian whines. “I just… I was so upset when he yelled at you, I can’t remember what happened after that. You should have seen him, Se?ora Reyes,” he says, turning in his seat to face Mother. “He was spitting, and- and red, and- and I really thought the vein on his head was going to burst. For no reason! Clara was doing a good job. We were winning until Manuel tossed a boulder at Clara, and nearly killed Tosk. Clara snatched him out of the air, and shattered the boulder, and Profesor Da Rocha got mad just because Clara helped him! It was so frustrating.”

  “Is this true?” Mother asks, turning to face me. “Profesor Da Rocha didn’t mention any of that.”

  “Probably because it doesn’t match what he told you,” grumbles Sebastian, using his hands to prop his head up over the table, giving the raisins another look of disgust. “He probably told you that she did poorly during her training, when really, it feels as if he just wants us to hurt each other for his own amusement.”

  “I’ll speak with him tomorrow,” Mother says, standing up straighter.

  “No, mami, please-”

  “This is nonsense, Clarita. I want you to be trained properly, and not by some-... some-...”

  “Sadist?” Sebastian suggests.

  Mother gestures towards Sebastian. “Sí, eso.”

  “Clara is a powerful mystic,” Sebastian continues, plucking a raisin up out of the bowl. “I think she should just go out with La Guardia for field training, instead of wasting time fighting someone out on an open field. She could have easily beat Manuel and Tosk, if she wasn’t being so careful with them.” He drops the raisin back into the bowl disappointedly.

  “Baz…” I’m overwhelmed by a rush of emotions, I hardly know what to do with the knife in my hands.

  “What?” he asks, irritably.

  “I’ll talk to someone from La Guardia, then,” says Mother. “Do you think you can finish this on your own while I get some work done?”

  “Work at this hour, mami?” Doesn’t she want to spend a quiet evening with Father?

  “I know,” she sighs. “It has to get done. I won’t need to work so hard when you get married, and receive your inheritance.”

  Sebastian’s head shoots up. “Doesn’t she get it anyway?”

  “No,” Mother scoffs. “She has to produce an heir. Preferably a little girl.”

  Thoughts of Cristian and I having a child have my cheeks flushing and hot. There’s a feeling in my lower belly I cannot explain, but I’m suddenly afraid that Sebastian can sense my impure thoughts. Sebastian’s eyes meet mine, and I cannot tell if he’s frustrated, upset, annoyed, or all three.

  “Well, in any case, if you’re doing as well as you claim, it should not be difficult to marry you off. Save some for me when you’re finished. I’ll be in my study.” Mother leaves Sebastian and I alone in the kitchen.

  I break away from Sebastian’s gaze, returning my attention to an empty pot, filling it with water, coconut milk, ginger, and some spices, letting them warm up as I strain the rice that has been soaking in water for several hours. When the milk becomes darker from the spices, I fish out the solids. After thoroughly rinsing out the rice, it goes into the pot with some brown sugar and salt.

  “Why can’t you tell your mother about Cristian, if she wants you to be married, anyway?”

  I mix everything in the pot, then set it to simmer. “Mother wouldn’t like Cristian. He wasn’t born into a family like ours.”