Smoke and Mirrors by Jess Haines Page B

the rows of school desks off the edge of their platforms and onto the lower rows.
    “Silence!” thundered Professor Reed.
    Stalking down the stage, she gestured sharply at the burning bread—now charred to a blackened husk, and starting to catch a nearby sweatshirt on fire—and the mess dissipated into steam and ash. The scent of burning bread, fabric, and a pungent charred meat smell from the Naga’s injuries that was more fishy than reptilian.
    “Who did this?”
    No one responded. All of the students were wide-eyed with fear—first of the naga, but now of their teacher—and were huddled together in the back rows of the auditorium. All save for Kimberly, who had ducked away behind a veil of illusion as soon as the bread was out of her hands and was at that moment hiding behind the professor’s desk.
    “Who cast that spell?”
    The naga, who had slithered behind his master and was holding the wrist of his injured hand, tipped his nose toward a cluster of students in the corner farthest from himself. “The boy. The one who brought no gift.”
    “I did not!” Aidan shouted.
    The professor turned to the naga, placing a fist over her heart as she bowed low. “My deepest apologies, honored one. I am so terribly sorry. I will see that the boy is suitably punished. Is there any penance I can offer you?”
    The naga opened its mouth, but James cut him off. “Relax, Eleanor. He’ll be fine.”
    Sam hissed. “I will not. No one would have dared back in India—”
    “Oh, don’t start that again!”
    “—where I was worshipped—”
    “You’re not in Kansas anymore.”
    “—and treated like a god—”
    “Yawn.”
    “—and—”
    “Sam. Shut up. No one cares.”
    The naga did shut his mouth with a clack of fangs, fists clenched tightly at his sides. James turned back to the professor.
    “Look, I think we’ve hit his limit for the day. We can try this again in a few days, once he calms down.”
    The professor nodded, but Sam hissed again. “No. I won’t come back here. I’ll give the girl the blessing since I already said I would, but you can’t make me do it for anyone else.”
    James made a protesting sound, but Professor Reed placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. She ducked her head and briefly used her free hand to rub the bridge of her nose just above her glasses before turning her attention back to the students inching their way back to their seats.
    “Class, you are dismissed to the library. For the remainder of the module, you are to study proper comportment when dealing with nagas. Aidan, Kimberly, you two remain.”
    The rest of the students shuffled out of the theater, all of them giving the naga a wide berth. The stares and whispers made Kimberly’s skin crawl with discomfort. She hoped she didn’t have to stick around for more than the blessing. Aidan would make her pay for it later if she was around to witness whatever it was the professor was planning on dishing out.
    It didn’t take long for the room to empty. Professor Reed gave Aidan a pointed look, and he sullenly shuffled into one of the seats at the front row.
    “You don’t have to do your thing if you don’t want to,” James said to Sam.
    “I’m not going back on my word.”
    James shrugged, then waved Kimberly over. She hesitated, but did as directed, though she stayed a healthy distance away from the giant snake whose tail was still twitching with obvious irritation. James gave her a playful punch on the shoulder and a wink as he headed over to join Professor Reed and Aidan.
    “Quick thinking with that illusion, kid. Nice work.”
    She nodded thanks, but kept her eyes glued to the naga. Sam inclined his head, those unblinking gold eyes focusing with unnerving intensity on Kimberly’s face. His voice was low, quiet, not intended to carry to the ears of the other magi.
    “You knew he would do it. You’re not one of them.”
    It wasn’t a question, but Kimberly gave him a mute nod anyway.
    “I wondered why you