The Songs Of The Flames (The Curse Of The Thirteenth Series)

Chapter 4

Priscilla hesitated by the door. Should she knock? She still had time to turn around, go to Headmaster Valerian and request she have another tutor. Professor Tote seemed nice, maybe he could tutor her. She wasn't quite sure what class he taught, but maybe he could help her. Anyone but Professor Sinclair.

The door opened to the man himself. He looked down at her with scornful eyes. "Can you ever be on time?" he asked her. He stepped aside to allow her to enter. Closing the door behind her he paced past her to his desk. She felt like a trapped animal in a cage with a beast.  He sat at his desk, a chair from one of the students' desks was pulled up beside his chair. Priscilla hesitated before taking residence in the chair. 

"I believe we should start with your magic studies. Have you used your magic at all?" he leaned back in his chair. His eyes trailed over her.

"I-I think so." She thought again of the basement incident. How had she done it?

"You think so?" He gave her a skeptical look. 

"There was this one time-last week I... I caught myself on fire." She whispered the last part, embarrassed. Heat crept up her neck and pooled around her cheeks.

"Caught yourself on fire? How?" He leaned forward interested. He seemed unfazed by her embarrassment. 

"I was trying to light the furnace. I had a match lit, and I-I became entranced by the fire." She stared at the papers on the desk, remembering that very moment she did magic for the first time. "The fire almost sang to me." She looked up to Professor Sinclair. His face was not the unusual 'looking down at her from his nose'. She could not read his features. They almost seem calculative. 

"You controlled fire?" He asked her, seeming stunned. 

"...yes."

"You must be mistaken." He brushed her off.

"I caught myself on fire. My sleeves were burning-both my arms were on fire!" She was starting to get angry.

"I seriously doubt that." Professor Sinclair scuffed. "Are you sure you were not being clumsy?"
'How self-absorbed could this man be?' She thought. He really boiled her blood. "I was not being clumsy!" She gritted through her teeth. "I didn't get burned." She felt overheated. Sweat trickled down her forehead. 

"Woah-watch it. Fuck, my papers." Professor Sinclair stood up so abruptly, his chair tipped over. The desk was on fire. Priscilla immediately reacted. She tore off her cardigan, placing it on the desk to put out the fire. She patted the fire out, but a few papers had been scorched. The desk had a black charred mark from the fire. 

"...Well, okay then. You do have a fire affinity." Professor Sinclair ran his hands through his shaggy brown hair. The hair ruffled up in small little tufts on the back of his head. "It's unbelievable. No one has possessed that ability in fifteen maybe twenty years." 

He turned and stared at Priscilla, his eyes narrowing. "Where are you from?" he asked her wearily.

"I'm not sure." She bit his lower lip. Must everyone know she was an orphan?

"You don't know?" He pushed.

"Yeah, I don't know! I'm an orphan." She snapped at him.

Professor Sinclair backed off when she barked at him. Fire blazed in Priscilla's eyes but she swallowed it back not wanting to lose control again. "I'm sorry I pushed too much." He looked away from her as he apologized. He cleared his throat, and glanced back at her, seeming back to his usual self.