Page 32 of Echoes of the Banshee

“I’m sorry,” I cut her off. “Please talk to me whenever you want.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She passes me the handout, smiling and chatting as if I wasn’t a huge dweeb and asshole.

After class she packs up. Fuck it. I race after her and fall into step beside her.

“Hey, Firefly, are you heading to the library?”

She gives me a side eye, then nods. We don’t talk, but it feels right.

The next day she says hello again. By Friday I expect it. On Monday, I’m craving it after a weekend without a word.

Zair

Where’s This in the Playbook?

Magical Artifacts is a bomb shelter of a room in the goblin building. I slip off my jacket, roll up my sleeves, and grab an apron. Sweat beads on my forehead as I tie it around my waist and take my seat at the workstation. To my left, Benson drops into his usual spot, his green hair as chaotic as his grin.

“Rumor has it we’re starting knives today,” he says, scanning the room for trouble.

“Goblin knives?” I ask, half-joking. I can never tell when he’s serious.

“No, we don’t share that technique with witches. You’re known for… thievery,” he teases.

“You goblins are just greedy,” I shoot back. “Besides, if I made a goblin blade, it’d still be a witch blade.”

Benson laughs. “If a witch blade did what a goblin blade does, all witches would use yours.”

I grin, but it’s hollow.

Professor Vance’s voice booms over the chatter, his platinum blonde hair standing out against his goblin features. My eyes sweep the class as he talks about today’s lesson. Goblins dominate the room, with sharp features and wild hair. Only Benson will get within arm’s reach of me. Some fae and elves are here too, deep in discussions over gemstones and blueprints. And Varkas, the lone vampire, hides in the back, blocking the sun with his charm.

“It’ll take at least a week to get the materials and enchantments right,” Vance continues. “Precision’s everything.”

“Plans are overrated,” Benson mutters from the corner. His pen scratches loudly in his notebook.

Vance glares at him. He doesn’t notice.

I focus on my work. The steel I’ve chosen is already faintly glowing with magical silver, so I place it in the forge, feeling the magic sync with the metal.

Vance circles the room and stops by my workstation. “What shape are you going for, Zair?”

“Practical,” I reply, offering a small smile. “Something that feels right in the hand but can cut through anything.”

He nods. “I like it.”

He moves to Benson, who’s working on something with jagged edges.

“What’s your shape?” Vance asks.

“Something bold.” Benson grins. “A blade with personality.”

Vance shakes his head and moves on, clearly used to Benson’s tendency to stray from goblin practicality in favor of his own… unique approach.

“You’ll regret that when it’s too unwieldy to use,” I say.

Benson shrugs. “We’ll see. It’s about pushing boundaries.”

He’s holding a warped piece of metal that barely resembles a blade.