Way of The Wand

Dinner at the Rakha mansion was always a tense affair, and tonight was no exception. When Kalinda put down her fork so she could speak with her children, Daila, her eldest, was the first to notice.

Kano on the other hand just kept on eating, shoving mouthfuls of cake down his throat.

Kalinda cleared her throat to force Kano to look up. When she had his attention, she spoke without delay.

“I went to see Jira today.”

Daila’s jaws clenched. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could have upset her more than those six words. Yet, when she spoke in turn, her voice didn’t shake with rage or quiver with anger, it sounded even, and cold as ice.

“Why now?”

Kalinda wet her throat with some of the wine in her glass cup. “I’ve missed her. Haven’t you?”

Daila hissed through her teeth.

“She’s still your sister,” Kalinda said.

“Don’t remind me. I do my best to forget.”

“Daila!” Kano scolded.

Thick silence spread across the table, and for a moment, they all returned to their food.

Kano wrapped his mahogany-toned hand around his fork and ripped through another large piece of cake, but the taste was no longer the same.

He dropped his fork, turned his head and stared out through the window, letting the view take him far away from the dinner table.

Airad’s main complex, the tall truncated pyramid that sat at the heart of the property, was the school’s central attraction.

The landscape was dotted with many more beautiful pieces of architecture: towers, keeps, barns, stables, not to talk of natural beauties in the forest, mountain, sea that surrounded Airad, but nothing could quite capture one’s interest as that singular magnificent structure.

Twenty-six floors tall, no other building in the city of Benin could challenge it in height, and Kano knew of only one building in all of Edoh Kingdom that was taller.

A chill blew in through the window, reminding Kano that by focusing his attention on the pyramid, he was avoiding a vital conversation.

He turned his gaze to his mother. “Why’d you go to see her?”

“You knew when she started her own school of witchcraft?”

Kano didn’t see any point in denying. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t think you’d be interested in a school for witchcraft.”

“I’m not in a school for witchcraft. I’m interested in my daughter. I want to know what she does when she does it.”

Kano reached for his glass of wine. “Maybe you shouldn’t have disowned her then.”

Kalinda sighed. Of course. Of the three of them, only Kano had kept in touch with Jira.

When Jira moved out of the mansion at fifteen, her mother had held out hope that she’d come back.

Kalidna believed there was no way such a young girl raised in privilege would survive in the cold hard world all by herself. A few weeks of silence, maybe even a few months, but Jira was bound to come running back to momma.

It had been almost five years since, and Jira had yet to return.

“I went to see her about a tournament.”

That drew Daila’s interest back in the conversation.

“What tournament?”

“Between our two schools. Airad’s School of Wizardry versus Jira’s School of Witchcraft. I think I might be able to win her back that way.”

“Through a competition?” Kano sounded like he was responding to the most ridiculous idea he’d ever heard.

“If she loses—when she loses—she’ll have no choice but to come back.”

Daila rolled her eyes. “I don’t understand why you still bother trying to bring her back into the fold. Jira has made it clear she wants to throw her life away. Why not let her?”

“Because she’s still family.”

“Anyway,” Kalinda continued, “there will be three tasks: speed, smarts and strength. Kano you will compete in the task for speed, Korath in the task for smarts and of course, Daila will represent Airad in the task for strength.”

A look of discomfort set on Kano’s face. “I don’t know Mum, this sounds like a bad idea.”

“Don’t worry Kano,” Kalinda said, “when all is said and done, Jira will be back here, where she belongs. And she’ll finally grow into the wizard she was always meant to be.”