the witch kids

three

Zion stood at the corner of Salem and Corona, his towering frame relaxed against a building's front gate as he checked his phone. My stomach churned as I walked his way, staring over my shoulder to see if October or her posse were following behind, hiding in the shadows. 

Today, we met up to find the Shielded One. Finding myself, in the least spiritual way.

Zion's eyes shone in the late afternoon sun, almost iridescent, as they looked up in my direction. He smiled, nodding his head.

"How you living?" he placed his phone in his pocket.

"You know how it is," I responded, "Magnus on her way?"

"Yeah. She had to stop by the bodega for something."

The silence of acquaintances settled between us. I stared at the park across the street, the handball court lost in sight of other structures.

I had not seen October since that day, despite living on the same block. I couldn't tell if I should be worried, or appreciative. All I knew is that the news of my status had somehow reached every witch in Queens. There must have been some kind of signal, or cry for help. She must have told the others. Why would she tell me I wasn’t safe if it was at her own hands? Why would she warn me?

Maybe they used echolocation. I thought about what Magnus would say if I asked her.

Never say that again. 

"I'm guessing they don't teach much about witch culture in one-four schools."

"Nah, they don't."

"There's a reason Magnus brought me with yall," he pointed to his eyes, "Where I'm from, we have a gift called Second Sight. I see the physical world, but if I concentrate enough, I can see magic, too."

"Like, spells?"

"You can see those too. I can see the magic flowing in someone's body, so I can tell if they're a witch. I can see it concentrate in one place when someone is casting a spell. I see spells placed on people. I see Shielded Ones."

He lifted himself from the gate, taking his hands out of his pockets and walking towards me. 

I faced him instinctively, smile fading, muscles tensed like a snake preparing to strike. "What's up?"

His face was no longer friendly, now serious, mouth a straight line. "That's what I'm asking you. What are you trying to do?"

"I'm waiting for Magnus, just like you."

"I've known from the jump, Ulrich. But I only speak what I see if it's meant to harm," he stepped closer to me, voice firm, shoulders squared, "So I'd like an answer to my question. What are you trying to do?"

Heat bubbled in my chest as Zion and I locked eyes. He wasn't wrong, yet I couldn't help but feel defensive, especially the way he stepped up to me. Nobody would threaten me on my own block. Especially someone I barely knew. 

"I don't want to hurt anyone. No trouble." My voice faltered.

He stepped back.

"I don't understand this witch shit, and I was fine a few days ago. Now everyone wants to kill me. Like it's my fault I got robbed or I have a bloodline. I'm just trying to get my degree and get out of here."

Zion sighed. "You're good. I won't tell nobody."

My entire body relaxed. 

"But you have to understand that things are different now. You can't just go back to how it was. They're hunting you."