Way of The Wand

The last time Jira came to the Tartian mansion to give Arron a piece of her mind, she knocked on the door and was patient enough to let someone answer it; this time she straight up blasted the door open and stormed the house like city officers after a hardened criminal.

Surprisingly, she found Arron Tartian sitting on his leather armchair and sipping wine from his cup.

He’d been waiting for her.

Jira walked over to him, flanked by Timi and his parents.

The four spread out in front of Arron, as if trying to intimidate him.

Jira pointed her wand at Arron’s forehead. “Where is Tomi?”

Arron smiled and drank from his gold cup.

“Don’t make me repeat the question,” Jira warned.

Arron pointed back at Jira with the cup. “You know, I thought you’d actually figure it out faster. Guess I gave you more credit than you deserve.”

“You’re not even going to deny?” Wura Afolabi’s voice shook as she spoke. “You kidnapped my daughter.”

Arron laughed as he admitted his guilt. “Yes, yes I did. And you should be thanking me. I’ve put everything in motion. Kalinda will be blamed for the kidnapping; your daughter won’t have to face Daila, and witches might keep the little dignity we have left. Really, everybody wins. All you need to do is, well, nothing.”

“It won’t work. My mother knows you have her. She’s going to tell everyone you kidnapped Tomi,” Jira said.

Arron shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter. I’ll deny it, and it’ll be my word against hers, as long as you lot keep silent.”

Yomi Afolabi stepped forward. He wasn’t interested in this deranged plan of Arron’s. “Where is she? Where are you hiding her?”

His eyes searched the room, but Arron wasn’t stupid enough to keep Tomi hidden in plain sight.

“I’m trying to save your daughter from embarrassment,” Arron said, still not moving from his seat.

Timi’s patience was waning. How could Arron be so calm when he was being confronted by four people. Did he think they wouldn’t hurt him if he refused to give up Tomi’s location? If Arron thought that, then he was sorely mistaken.

“Why? Why is it so important to you to prevent my sister from fighting? Something tells me it’s not because you care for her.”

Arron drank from his gold cup again. “You’re right. I don’t care about your sister, but I do care what happens to my company. I worry about what happens to Tartian sales if your sister succeeds in making a fool of herself and every other witch in this city.”

“So, it’s about money for you,” Timi said, his voice breaking. “When you offered to help her, even way back then, it wasn’t because you cared, you just didn’t want to lose your money.”

Arron put his arms up in mock surrender. “You got me.” He laughed. “You might think I’m evil, scum of the earth. But really, I’m just a businessman, a businessman who can’t allow the childish foolishness of a teenager to cost him everything he has worked hard to build.”

“Worked hard to build?” Jira repeated derisively. “Your father built the Tartian empire. You inherited everything you have. You didn’t build anything.”

Arron spread out his arms. “That changes nothing. I can’t allow Tomi’s actions to jeopardize my company.”

“Where is she Arron,” Jira said, “or I swear I’ll —”

“Torture me? Go ahead, torture me all you want. It’s going to be quite fun.”

Jira’s eyes narrowed as it hit her what Arron was doing.

“You’re stalling.” She moved closer to Arron. “She’s not here. You’re taking her somewhere, and you’re trying to stall so she gets there.”

The change in his eyes gave him away. He’d been made.

Jira placed her wand directly on Arron’s forehead. “You have five seconds to tell me where you’re taking her.”

Arron closed his eyes as Jira counted down. “Five, four, three, two, one…”

“Ife!”

Everyone looked to the corridor where the voice had come from.

A butler was standing in the passage way, her face revealing her surprise at her own outburst.

“Sara don’t you dare say another word or you’re fired!” Arron threatened.

Sara pulled herself up, refusing to backdown. “That won’t be necessary, I quit.” She turned to Jira. “The girl you’re looking for, she was here. I over heard him talking to his underlings about taking her to Ife.”

“Ife,” Jira muttered under her breath. She visualised Tomi bound and scared in a carriage, being forced away to a city she’s never been to.

“It’s too late,” Arron screamed as Jira and the Afolabis marched for the door. “You won’t catch up with them, and if you do, you won’t be able to bring her back in time.”

Jira turned around and said, “Blast,” unleashing an outburst of energy that sent Arron tumbling over his chair.

Outside under the star-lit night sky, Jira and the Afolabis argued over what to do next.

“It’s only a few hours till dawn,” Jira told Wura and Yomi, “allow me to go get your daughter.”

“We want to come too,” Wura said.

“You’ll only slow me down,” Jira responded, “Besides, you don’t want to be there to see what I’m going to do to Arron’s henchmen.”

“Fine,” Yomi Afolabi stated, “we understand.”

“What about me?” Timi asked.

Jira touched his right shoulder. “When dawn comes, I need you to get your classmates and lead them to the arena. If I haven’t returned with Tomi by then, I’m going to need you to stall.”

“How?”

“Figure something out.”

She moved and put some space between herself and the Afolabis, then pointed her wand forward saying, “Broomstick.”

A broomstick materialised in the air. Tomi jumped on it and turned to Wura and Yomi. “I’ll get your daughter back, I promise.”

She pointed her wand to the back of her broom and said, “Boost.”

The sweeping-end of the broom burst into flames and shot Jira forward like a comet.

“Hang on Tomi, I’m coming,” she whispered.