After what felt like hours of unnecessary damage, the three Warrior Bloods left without a shred of evidence.
Clove hadn’t moved from the recliner, having chosen to nap there while they rummaged through the suite. But I sensed her alertness, as if waiting for me to call her to my aid should I need it.
I wondered why she brought me the stonepecker, if it was something she found outside the walls or if she was trying to tell me something.
My suspicions told me it was the latter, but I couldn’t figure out what she wanted me to know aside from the obvious—the perpetrator had used a stonepecker to breach the Academy walls.
“I’m going to fucking kill those assholes,” Ella seethed as soon as they left, her eyes flashing with blue fire as she took in the mess they left behind.
“Kols will take care of them,” Zeph promised. “But in the interim, we should probably clean this shit up.”
Ella muttered a few more choice words before pulling out her wand. “I’ll be in my bedroom.”
Zeph nodded, his gaze catching mine. “Come on. I’ll help with your room.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I can, uh, well, I can pick up everything,” I finished lamely, my lips twisting to the side.
I totally had this. I would just put everything away by hand. How hard could it be?
Chapter Sixteen
Zeph
“I totally do not have this,” I heard Aflora mutter to herself on the threshold of her room.
My lips twitched as I took out my wand and created a pair of figments. “Put everything back where it was two hours ago.” They would be able to sense the history of objects to know where each item went.
The two invisible entities started immediately, causing items to essentially float across the room as they followed my edict.
“When you’re done in here, work on the kitchen, then the study area and the other guest room.”
They didn’t reply, but I felt their agreement through my magical bond to them.
I left them to it and followed Aflora’s scent down the hallway to her room, where I found her standing in the center of a disaster zone with her hands on her hips. “You sure you don’t want my help?” I asked her softly.
She studied the shattered pot in the corner, her brow furrowing. “Why did they destroy the fairy plant? I mean, what could it possibly have been hiding?”
“They were being assholes,” I told her from the entrance of her room, my hands in my pockets. “Want me to teach you a spell that can fix it?”
She glanced over her shoulder at me. “We can fix it?”
I smiled. “Magic can fix almost anything, Aflora.” I pushed off the door frame and walked toward her. “Here, take out your wand and face the plant.”
Surprisingly, she did exactly what I requested, her focus intense as she surveyed the corner. “Okay. Now what?”
I lightly pressed my chest to her back, then drew my fingers down her arm to the hand holding her wand. “Lift it up to about here,” I explained, guiding her wrist upward. “You want to aim at the plant and draw a U just like this.” I demonstrated while I spoke by moving her hand subtly into the shape I described before leading her back to the beginning point and releasing her. “Now repeat that action while saying, ‘Illa’shala.’??”
She cleared her throat, then followed my instructions to the letter. Excitement hummed through her as the object adhered to her command to repair itself.
“Try it again on your closet door,” I suggested.
“But the plant isn’t done.”
“Don’t worry. The spell will continue until it’s finished or until you tell it to stop. Trust me.”
She shot me a look over her shoulder, one that said she didn’t trust me in the slightest, then grimaced upon realizing what she’d just done.
I didn’t comment, allowing the moment to pass, and waited for her to try the spell again.