9
By the time I’d finished up my classes for the day and helped out Peter and Thalia in the kitchen garden, I was a nervous wreck. I was jumpy from constantly looking out for lion-shaped shadows that were about to pounce on me.
It struck me as odd that Max hadn’t tried to follow me. They were notorious for stalking their prey. Whatever he was cooking up, I wasn’t going to like it. In hindsight, I should have kept my big mouth shut and just played subordinate. But even now the thought of backing down to Max Thompson had my hackles rising. Something in the way he stared at me had me feeling rudderless.
When I arrived at the dining hall for my kitchen hand interview, my nerves were shot. It didn’t help that when I approached the double swinging doors, I could hear the head chef, Bruno, screaming at somebody inside. Bruno looked after the meals on both campuses. He was a familiar brooding presence in the kitchen.
Steeling my spine, I thought of an endless supply of wigs and hair magic. I pushed open the doors to come face to face with a bomb site. Pots and pans had been overturned. The doors to the big glass cabinet had been thrown open. The pantry was empty except for a few stray potatoes. There was glass on the floor. Sugar and flour bags had been cut open, their contents spilling out their guts all around them. It was impossible to pick my jaw up off the ground. Aside from the fact that Bruno was a known grump, he was also a high-magic mage. When Bruno caught whoever did this, there would literally be hell to pay.
Bruno was in the opposite corner of the long, white tiled room. His kitchen staff were presented in front of him in what I could only describe as a firing line. “Which one of you was supposed to be watching the storeroom?” Bruno barked.
Five sets of eyes darted away. “We were here the whole time, boss,” Tony, the sous chef ventured. He was a goblin who specialised in making meals for the para-human species in the Academy. They ate a varied diet of supernatural and mortal foods. Tony made a great witchetty-grub pizza apparently. His chef’s whites set off his moss-green skin. “Turned around and stuff was all over the place!”
Bruno grunted in a perfect imitation of a raging rhino. “You saying a poltergeist did it?”
Tony shrugged. I shrank back as Bruno grabbed a chunk of his own hair and tugged. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to remind him I had an appointment. Right then, somebody shoved through the kitchen doors. They swung open and hit me in the elbow.
“Ow!”
Bruno whirled on me.
“Is this where the kitchen hand interviews are being held?” a Fae girl asked. She stepped past me without so much as an apology. Her silver wings fluttered for a second and then disappeared as she took in the scene. Someone else followed right behind her. A slender boy with hair of deep mahogany.
“Am I too late to apply?” the boy asked.
Bruno’s moustache wriggled from where he was obviously grinding his teeth. His eyes flashed with temporary madness. It was funny how often the supernaturals mimicked each other when they became overly emotional. Right now, Bruno could give any shifter a run for their money. Scraping his gaze over the damage once more, Bruno stormed over to where the three of us stood.
Having never been to a job interview before, I didn’t know what to expect. The others didn’t seem concerned that we were all asked to be here at the same time. “You three,” Bruno pointed at us. “Clean up this mess!” He went off to bark similar orders to the staff.
I’d been Grammy’s gofer since I was old enough to walk. Reflex kicked in and I immediately searched around for a broom or dustpan. Three seconds later, a sinking feeling spread through my gut.
The Fae girl flicked her hand. A light wind brushed my nose. It grew into a gust that slid through the room and scooped up the broken glass. She deposited the shards into a pile in the corner where the red-headed boy disintegrated it with his high magic. Great. I was a kitchen witch up for a job against a wind elemental Fae and a mage.
As I watched, the mage spoke a few words in the Arcane language of the Mage Dominion. One by one, any objects that weren’t beyond repair hopped up into the double-trough sink. The Fae girl turned the taps on without touching them. It was almost impossible not to be intimidated. I saw the blurry image of myself reflected in the copper cauldron. My eyes were wide with disbelief.
If I didn’t do something about this, I would be edged out of a job. Rolling up my sleeves, I dived into the washing up. I was sure the mage boy could have magicked the soap and sponge to do the work without supervision, but I didn’t give him the chance. I stood there with my back to the room, trying to ignore the two other interviewees laughing and joking with each other. Everyone was pointedly ignoring me.
If Thalia and Peter allowed high magic to clean up the mess in the kitchen garden, the whole thing could have been done in a flash. Less than forty minutes after we started, the kitchen was in workable order again. The dishes I was working on were the only thing still unsorted. While I scrubbed, Bruno assigned the Fae and the mage to prep ingredients for the following day’s meals. I cursed inwardly. That would have been my time to shine. Nobody peeled a potato like yours truly.
Over in the corner, Bruno and Tony were arguing about how best to
