Witchy Sour(4)

“If that tastes as good as it smells, I might never leave,” Poppy groaned. “You said you’re looking for roommates, right? I’m ready to get out of my mom’s abode. I mean, I love Chunk, but I think he can take care of himself.”

I winked. “The offer never expires.”

I’d only known my cousins for a few weeks, but already I’d mentioned the possibility of them moving in with me. The bungalow had plenty of space for all of us, and it’d give them the opportunity to move out of their childhood homes. Unfortunately, we’d been so busy with the hunt for the missing spellbook that the subject hadn’t come up again.

Resting a hand on my hip, I shut the burner off and poured the boiling water over the powder. The instant the water hit the mixture, the tiny grains bloomed up to three times their size, reminding me of a marshmallow heated in the microwave. The water dripped through slowly, and Poppy deeply inhaled the rich scent.

“Is she okay?” I waved a hand in front of my other cousin’s face. “Earth to Zin! Want some?”

Zin was the exact opposite of Poppy. While Poppy was blond and bubbly and over-the-top in every way, Zin was all sharp angles, jet black hair, and edgy attitude.

“You’re interrupting her concentration,” Poppy said with an eye roll. “She’s been trying to see if she’s telepathic.”

Zin’s eyes were closed. At the sound of her name, she took a few steps forward, feeling her way around blindly. She tried to sit down, but her hands grasped at air until finally, she gave up and peeked. Climbing onto a stool, she pouted. “I can hear you rolling your eyes, Poppy, and you should stop. I think I’m getting the hang of it.”

“You just opened your eyes to find the chair,” Poppy said. “Forget it, Zin. You’re not telepathic!”

Zin grumbled something then swiveled the bar stool to face the counter. She closed her eyes and raised both hands to the side of her head with her thumb and middle fingers touching in circles. She could pass for a far more feminine, and far more petite, version of Buddha.

“Are you meditating?” I asked.

“I’m telepath-ating.”

“You look like you’re meditating,” Poppy said. “That’s how meditators sit.”

“Have you ever seen a telepathic person sit?” Zin opened one eyelid. “Maybe this is how they sit.”

Poppy rolled her eyes and looked at me. “The Rangers have an open enrollment period in a month and Zin’s training hard for it.”

“I didn’t know they had open enrollment,” I said, pouring the concoction from the beaker into cups. I pushed the mugs over to them and then filled another one for myself. “I thought that was more of a recruitment thing.”

“It is, in a sense. This is the first time they’re letting folks volunteer to be Candidates,” Poppy said with a smug smile. “I suggested it. She has to be chosen to participate of course, but it’s a small step forward.”

“That’s great! I’m surprised they went for it,” I said cautiously. “The Rangers seem...strict.”

The Rangers were the darkest, the most dangerous wizards on The Isle. They walked the line between good and evil to protect the rest of us—a never-seen, never-heard sort of bunch.

“Your boyfriend was a big reason that the program started.” Poppy gave me the side-eye as she took a sip from the mug. “You should tell him thanks.”

My cheeks flamed red. “He’s not my boyfriend!”

“What is he?” Zin peeked through the other eyelid. Now both her eyes were open, and the only thing meditative about her position was the crossing of her legs and the circles of her hands.

“Well, Ms. Telepathy, shouldn’t you be able to tell me?”

“Telepathy is a fine art. I don’t just go reading each and every one of your thoughts,” Zin said crossly. “It takes time, energy, and practice, and I don’t have the patience to be focusing on your love life. I’m working on bigger and better things.”

“The only thing you need to focus on is not spilling your coffee all over the counter.” Poppy nodded toward the cup in Zin’s hand, which was balanced at a precarious angle. Foregoing all signs of telepathy, Zin groaned and swung her legs down from the stool, setting the cup on the counter. Poppy shook her head. “I’m telling you that telepathy is not a requirement to become a Ranger.”

“What are the requirements?” Zin asked. “If you’d just tell me, I wouldn’t have to keep bothering you.”

“She’s been asking me this question every day since the trials have been announced, and she knows I can’t say,” Poppy said, turning back to me. She raised her mug. “This is good, by the way.”