Exile Empire, Exile The Second

Chapter 18 - Kairos

"How did you know?" I asked, opening my vision to determine the nature of her magic. She was human, through and through, but like an MRI, I saw her power throughout her body, but in multiple colors. Not patchworked together haphazardly like Missy's, but carefully knitted and built from the ground up.

"You'd broadcasted it so loud you might as well be driving around the neighborhood with a bullhorn," she laughed. "I'm Elma, by the way. Elma Fitzsimmons, once the proprietor of Terminal City Teas, but these days, I've reduced my shop to the occasional drop-in customer or those who need me."

She looked to be in her seventies at least. Her hair was silvery white, thick, and streaked with the remnants of black throughout. She wasn't that tall, maybe five and a half feet if she stood straight, and she was medium build. Nothing about her stood out, but her eyes were brilliant green and clear, her skin was soft and burnished bronze with the palest pink undertone. She reminded me of one of my aunts, and I felt immediately comfortable in her presence.

Of course, that could be a trap. Who knew these days, but for now I decided Elma was my friend.

"I'm Kairos," I replied, gesturing to Sorin, "this is Sorin."

"Sorin," the first girl behind the counter said with a breath of reverence, as if naming a holy relic and not just a random customer she wanted to bang.

"Do you want the macaron or what?" the second girl asked. She was snottier to us, she'd already caught on that Sorin was far off limits for both of them.

"I'll take a baker's dozen, a variety please," Elma said with a warm smile. "Box them up quickly, please, I don't like being out here."

We watched as the girls worked, picking out one of every color macaron, but Sorin hadn't stopped staring at Elma. I wondered if he saw what I did. Her carefully constructed powers brightly coloring her aura and threading through her body in and out.

"What did you mean by stories?" he asked her at last.

She laughed and said, "Soap operas."

He shook his head, still confused.

"You know, daytime television shows for lonely old ladies like me," she said, and he nodded, catching on at last. "Wait, are you agreeing that I'm old and lonely?"

Her voice was playful, but Sorin stumbled with his reply. He'd been caught by her quick wit and couldn't back out of it now.

"Not at all," he said with a smile and I had to admit, I enjoyed her joke more than I should've. I liked seeing him unsettled, it gave me a front-row seat on how he'd deal with stress. And to his benefit, he handled it well. At least he didn't grab Elma by the throat like he had with Missy, so maybe his anger was kept to be spent on wood witches. "I was simply agreeing you must be lonely, which is why we're coming to keep you company."

She grinned and shook her head, taking the box of treats from the girls behind the counter, and before either one of us made a move, she tapped her card and paid for the transaction.

"I could have gotten that," I said after we left the store. The girls watched Sorin longingly, their chins resting on their hands as they took in his swagger from behind.

It was a nice swagger, and a nice behind. I didn't feel jealousy flare at their reactions that time, he was leaving with me after all.

"It's a stolen card," Elma laughed, looking over at me when I stopped walking. Sorin held the box of macarons and we walked down the sidewalk again, people parting faster and farther than before. "What? You want an old lady to survive on her pension alone? I only steal from people who deserve it."