Way of The Wand
Chapter 22

Kano waited in front the door to Chidi’s room and knocked. “Can I come in?”

The door opened of its own accord.

Kano stepped in, frowning when he noticed Remi’s bed floating in the air.

“Remi I’ve told you to stop doing that.”

Remi, Chidi’s roommate, made his bed return to the floor.

“Sorry Sir,” he apologized.

Kano’s frown deepened. “And I’ve told you to stop referring to me as ‘Sir’. I’m twenty years old for crying out loud.”

“Sorry Sir…I mean, sorry Kano,” Remi muttered.

Kano shook his head. “It’s fine. Can you excuse Chidi and I for a moment? I’d like to have a word with him alone.”

Remi slipped out of bed and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Chidi sat up on his bed, his face tightening. “If you’ve come to warn me to stay away from Jira, Daila beat you to it already.”

Kano smiled, pulling up one of the two chairs in the room for himself. “Quite the opposite.”

Kano’s eyes fell on the afro on Chidi’s head. “Take that wig off Chidi, you’re not fooling me with that.”

Chidi yanked the wig off his head, revealing his braids. It reminded him of Jira and how she’d tried to call him the previous night. He’d been unable to pick, as all he could think about was the threat Daila made to him.

“Were you the one who told Daila I’d been sneaking out to see Jira?”

“Come on,” Kano replied, “I would never betray your confidence like that.”

“Well, someone did.”

The two young men stared into space for a while, listening to the sound of their breathing.

Chidi bumped Kano playfully in the side. “Tell me you didn’t come here just to admire the wall in my room.”

Kano’s face broke into a smile. “No…no…I came because, even if Jira doesn’t want to admit…yet, you make her happy.”

“Made,” Chidi corrected, “Daila has made it painfully clear I’m not to contact Jira again.”

Kano hissed. “About that. I could pass your messages along to Jira, and I promise, Daila will never find out.”

“In that case—” Chidi reached into the cabinet beside his bed. “Could you pass this along for me?”

He dropped a black letter into Kano’s hands.

Kano studied the folded black card. “I’ve heard about these, singing cards. They sing out the messages written in them.”

Then Kano broke into another bout of laughter.

Chidi gritted his teeth. “Too much?”

Kano tucked the letter into the pocket of his Airad robes. “Nah, it’s just right.”

Chidi reached into his cabinet again and brought out a pack of coins. “Here’s the money you lent to me.”

“You don’t have to pay me back you know?”

“Please, take it,” Chidi insisted. “I never would have got those tickets without you.”

As Kano accepted the money, he thought to ask Chidi about something that had been bugging him about Chidi’s situation with Daila.

“Chidi,” Kano began, “why do you let Daila run your head around the way she does? You don’t seem like the type who’s obsessed with power.”

“Oh, I am,” Chidi replied, taking his pillow and putting it between his legs, “just not the kind you’re talking about. Airad is where all the connections are made. The most influential people in Edoh, except for a handful, have one thing in common–they passed through Airad. Airad is where you come to become rich. That’s why I’m here Kano, because I’m desperate, and Daila knows that. I just want to help change things for my family.”

Kano mulled over Chidi’s reason for coming to Airad, contrasting it to his own.

If he never worked again a day in his life and depended solely on the Rakha family wealth, Kano would still be richer than half of Edoh. Not to mention, his admission to Airad was all but guaranteed the day he was born.

“What about you Kano?” Chidi asked. “I figure you’re not one of those who believe wizardry is greater than witchcraft. So why haven’t you up and left this place like Jira?”

Kano took his right hand in his left, his eyes setting deeper into their sockets as a distant graveness descended upon him. “My mother might pretend otherwise, but Jira’s drop out from Airad rocked her to her core.”

He lowered his head and scoffed. “I think it was the shock. See, my mother used to have the gift of prophecy, yet she failed to see what was right in front her–Jira’s dissatisfaction with wizardry. After Jira left, my mother lost that gift, couldn’t even as much as predict the weather. That’s how much it affected her. Imagine what’s going to happen if I leave?”

“Besides,” Kano added in a more upbeat tone, “as I keep trying to tell everybody, it makes no difference to me. Witchcraft, wizardry, hell even parlour tricks. Magic is magic.”

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