8

Kaz backs up and heads for the hall of mirrors, leaving me to grab my things and follow him. I whisper a goodbye to Siri on the way, knowing that she still hides somewhere underneath the counter.

By the time I’ve reached the hall of mirrors, Kaz had already spoken an address, and one of the mirrors emits a soft glow. I don’t recognize the room on the other side, but judging by the mannequins and rolls of fabric lining the walls, I’d guess it’s a boutique of some sort.

When Kaz doesn’t make the first move, I realize he’s waiting for me to step through the glass. How strangely gentlemanlike of him. I’d even be flattered if we met under different circumstances and if his job wasn’t to bring Magians like me to justice.

Passing through the glass, I gracefully step into a brightly lit shop that smells of fabric and vanilla incense.
For a moment, I can only admire the place, speechless. One wall is lined with rolls of fabric of every colour imaginable, some patterned, some ombre, some textured, and some glossy and satiny. Another wall is stocked with shelves and jars containing gemstones, pearls, and crystals. And lining a third are mannequins, dressed in dazzling outfits.

I can sense the charms and enchantments radiating from them. No doubt each and every gem and decoration that sown onto those attires, is charmed. If I wasn’t completely hopeless with sowing and needlework, I would’ve done the same for my clothes.

Behind me, Kaz mutters a curse, yet again staggering after passing through the mirror. I don’t say it out loud, but he’s not very graceful when it comes to two-way mirrors.

“Good morning, and welcome to Pandora’s Armoire – Kazi?” The woman who came to greet us halts dead upon rounding the corner, her eyes locked on the man in our midst.

The man in question sighs. “I wish you would stop calling me that.”

I sidestep the woman as she crosses the room to embrace him in a quick hug. “Now what kind of sister would I be if I don’t tease you little bit?”

“The good kind,” he grumbles and then says in a softer tone, “I was hoping you could do me a favour with a delicate situation.” Leaning down, he whispers something in her ear. The woman’s eyes dart from him to me, widening every so slightly.

All I can do is spectate while he openly talks about me to his sister, disregarding how I feel about the hushed conversation. I don’t let it bother me, though. It seems rudeness is just part of his many ‘charming’ characteristics.

“Think you can do that?” He inquires in a normal tone after he explained everything to her.

For a moment, the woman seems offended. “Can I do it? You insult me, big bro. Give me four hours, and I will give you a model student. Literally.”

“Make that three,” he counters, but goes ignored.

The woman approaches me with a warm smile, her teeth white and her blue eyes glittering in the overhead lighting. “Hi, I’m Milena, Kaz’s baby sister. And you’re Syl.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say, giving her a genuine smile. She’s the exact opposite of her brother; warm, welcoming, and polite. “I love your shop. Do you enchant every garnishment you sow onto your outfits?”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” she replies cheerfully. “I love charms. They’re way too underrated if you ask me. So much so, the Academy doesn’t teach it. I had to learn the craft all by myself.”

“No, really? I can’t imagine it. I’d go mad without my charmed jewellery and –”
“*Ahem*?” Out chitchatting stops when Kaz clears his throat and taps his wrist to indicate the time.
Milena rolls her eyes dramatically and leads me further into her shop. “Let’s get to work before *someone* throws a tantrum. We’ll chat more while I measure you.”

I’m shown to a floor-to-ceiling mirror with a little platform in front of it. When Milena joins me, a curtain slowly envelops the space and blocks Kaz’s view of us. The young Magian has me undress my outfit while she grabs her measuring tape, only to pause when beholding my half-naked form.

“Gods, are those ink charms?” She studies the markings on my body with astonishment, dragging her eyes up my arms and shoulders. I hum, confirming it. “I haven’t seen one of these in person before. They must have cost you a fortune.”

“Just the first three,” I reply, briefly recalling how expensive and painful they were to get. “After that, I learned how to do it myself.” She studies the tattoo-like marking a minute longer before lingering on the umbrella on my wrist. “That one is for waterproofing when it rains. I couldn’t come up with a cool design and decided to just settle on an umbrella.”

“Well, I think they’re great,” she says, lifting my arms to measure around my waist. “Maybe you can give me one someday.”

For the next hour, Milena used her magic to turn me into the model student as she called it. The uniform she crafted was enchanted to adapt to my body and contained heating and cooling charms for the unpredictable weather at the academy. And since Acolytes aren’t allowed to wear jewellery, she charmed the buttons of my blazer with the enchantments of my choice.

She spent another hour on my physical appearance, mostly my hair. It took half an hour alone to undo all the braids and removing the hair beads. And once that was over, she moved on to get the pink, blue, and purple streaks out of my hair.

If I had known years ago that I would someday attend Alcove Academy, I wouldn’t have enchanted the highlights to be permanent. And when Milena realized her attempts were unsuccessful, she decided to rather set me up with some enchanted shampoo instead.

“Wash your hair with this every three to four days, and no one will notice a thing,” she advised after brushing through my freshly blown-out tresses. “Also, the Academy is a bit of a pain with hairstyles. Single braids, buns, and ponytails are fine. And if you have to use hair accessories, bows and plain headbands are safe.”

“Braids, buns, bows, check.” I memorize everything she says. “What are the rules around makeup?”
“Keep it light and natural,” she replies. “The way you look now; just copy it tomorrow. You can’t get any safer than this. Are you ready to see?”

I nod quietly, both nervous and excited to see how I look. Milena gestures me to stand up and drags me over to a mirror. The moment I see my reflection, I’m speechless.

Never in all my life have I seen myself in less than three colours, even less with my hair plain platinum, bare of colour, and pulled together in a single braid. The emerald-green uniform hugs my figure perfectly, complimenting my waist and bust, while the skirt reaches my mid-thighs and makes my legs seem longer. The knee-high socks and Mary Jane platform heels are a nice touch, but other than that, I don’t know how to feel about this version of Syl.

This plain and proper Syl without her jewellery and braids.

“I look…academic,” I say after a while, unsure what else to call it.

Milena snorts and waves it off. “You look good, but I understand if you miss your old self. Unfortunately, Academy rules are law.”

“Are you two quite done yet?” Kaz calls from outside the curtain, sounding impatient.

His sister rolls her eyes before calling back, “We’ll be right out!”

Waving her hand at the curtain, it slowly pulls open. Kaz, who has been waiting on one of the white sofas in the shop, rises to his feet and turns to us. I’m not sure what he expected, but once he sees me, his body stills.

I’m rooted in place while his shaded eyes rake up and down my figure. Judging? I don’t know.

Contemplating? Perhaps. All I know is that I’m growing warm and fidgety under his gaze. I haven’t seen his eyes yet, but they burn through the blacked-out glass concealing them and scorch my skin with the intensity of his stare.

Maybe that is why he wears them. Maybe his gaze alone can set the world on fire. It sure does to me.

“And?” Milena says when the silence drags out too long. “Am I a fashion genius or what?”

Kaz’s jaw clenches before he replies, “It’ll do. Now, we really need to get going.” He’s already on his way to the mirrors.

I hang back to thank Milena, understanding that I was a lot to work with.

“Don’t worry about it, I enjoy a good challenge.” She grins and moves in to hug me. “Good luck. And if you ever have a fashion emergency, you know where to find me.”

After saying goodbye to probably the last friendly person I’ll meet for a while, I join Kaz at the mirrors.

One is already glowing, and I’m presented with a peek of Alcove Academy’s interior. It’s enough for angst and fear to brew in my stomach.

This is crazy, stupid, and dangerous – but I’m not doing this for me.

‘*For Zari*,’ I think to myself, and step through the glass.