The One

Grandma

That night, Feray and Zanna lay side by side on the latter's bed. Feray lay flat on her back, staring up into the ceiling; Zanna lay on her side, staring at Feray.

"I didn't ask earlier, but you're later than Izar said you'd be," Zanna said, blinking at her in curiosity. "What's up?"

"Before I answer that—what do you make of Izar?" Feray asked instead, turning only her head in Zanna's direction.

"Hm..." Zanna rolled to her other side and back towards Feray after a few seconds. "He's just a witch."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...he's just a witch! He probably has his good and bad sides, stuff he cares about and stuff he couldn't care less about, things that hurt and things that make him happy."

From the way Zanna spoke, it was almost as if she was saying "isn't it obvious?"

Maybe she's saying the witch version of "he's only human", Feray tried to decipher Zanna's explanation.

"Can you tell if he's very powerful?"

Again, Zanna took a moment to mull over it. She creased her brows. "Now that you mention it, I never noticed."

"Huh?"

"I never noticed," Zanna repeated. "Usually we can tell if the other witch is above or below us; but some use their powers to obscure the level of their power from fellow witches. Oh!"

Her sudden burst nearly sent Feray jumping—especially after all the thrill she'd already had not so long ago. "What?"

Zanna perked up, leaning over Feray now rather than simply lying next to her. Their faces were only inches apart as the short-haired girl grinned suspiciously.

"Ask Bentley."

Feray felt her eyes widen in surprise. "You can hide from witches but not humans?"

A nod. "Humans born in Refica in particular are those who are somehow incompatible with psychological magic: it can't be directly used on them."

"I see..." Without knowing it, one corner of Feray's lips curled up.

Now, Zanna brought her face even closer. "I got a feeling you're going to do a lot of adventurous things from now on! If you do, make sure to bring me along, yes? Yes?"

Feray turned away from the girl. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Me neither, but we will soon!" Seeing as Feray had turned away from her, Zanna bent even further over her so that she could see her face. "Then? What kept you from being on time?"

"I'm sorry for being l—"

"No, no, I'm not upset about you being late, I'm curious about what you did! Izar looked like he was ready to bury some dead bodies back there."

"Did he?"

"Answer meeee!"

Feray sighed. "I made him promise me something. Of course he wouldn't like it."

"But you managed it?"

"Yeah, with my life on the line."

"You risked your life to get him to promise?!"

If even Zanna is shocked, what I did must have really been crazy. Oh well. "Yes and no. I knew I wouldn't actually die from it."

At this point, Zanna plopped back down onto the bed—only to hug Feray from behind. She lay her head on the new witch's back. "Wow! You really are something, my one."

"What's the deal with that anyway?" Feray asked. She yawned.

But Zanna did not take the hint—and why would she? "Intuition?"

"As if I would believe that."

"Well...I suppose since you're my one, I can tell you," Zanna said.

Feray rolled back around to look at her—and to escape the hold of her arms.

"Grandma told me," Zanna confessed.

"Grandma? Is she a fortune teller of sorts?"

"Something like that. She doesn't tell more than what you need to know though, and she's told me this all my life: someday you'll find the one to spend the rest of your life with and you'll be the best of friends. Then on the day we met, she told me how to find you."

Feray recalled what had happened when she first met the Owens.

Right as they arrived, before Izar could even knock, the door opened. The smiling face of Zanna greeted them.

"A little late, but good evening!" the girl said.

"Good evening, Miss Owen," Izar said in return, "Has Mrs. Owen retired to bed?"

"I am here," came the voice of an elderly woman. Zanna stepped aside to reveal an old lady crouching over her walking cane. The woman had an amiable smile on her face; her skin was marked with age and her silver hair tied up in a bun. "Good evening, children."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Feray Inglebird," Feray introduced herself. "Um..."

"Just call me Grandma," said the older woman, "It is only a matter of time anyway."

"Oh..." Unsure of what that meant, Feray consented to her request nonetheless. "Okay...Grandma."

Grandma glanced at Feray, and then at Izar. Her smile grew. Having seen that, Izar stepped back.

"I'll be leaving then. Glad to see that you're doing well," he said hastily. As he backed away from the door, Feray tilted her head at him in curiosity. When their eyes met, he added, "See you tomorrow, dearie."

Satisfied, Feray beamed. "Goodnight!"

Once Izar was away and the door was properly closed and locked, Grandma smiled at Feray. "You have much potential, child."

"Potential?"

"Yes. You will do great things...starting with what you have already accomplished. Not everyone has the courage to negotiate with those more powerful than they are."

The girl's eyes widened in recognition. "What do you know?"

"A lot, my child," Grandma replied. Yet she turned away, signifying the end of that conversation. "Just be yourself."

"So that's why she talks like that," Feray deduced, returning to her original position of lying flat on her back.

"Yep!" This time, Zanna was also in the same position. The ceiling was not decorated by any means, yet the two girls stared into it as if they could see constellations on it. "And we're meant for each other, you and I. Got that?"

"Sure..."