Kylara waited until Joontah had disappeared. “Are you two fighting?” she asked Yalmay after a moment.

“I’m not sure,” Yalmay said. “Sometimes I think we are, but…”

“But?”

“Look,” Yalmay said, “I love Joontah. I have for a long time. There’s nothing that’s going to change that. It’s not him. It’s his family.”

“So? They’ve never liked you,” Kylara pointed out. “What’s different now?”

“I don’t know. It used to be just his parents. I could handle that. But now they’ve turned his siblings and half his grandparents against me too. They hate me.” She sighed. “Joontah, he’s great, but he doesn’t realise how much it bothers me.

"Have you ever tried talking to them?" Kylara asked. "Maybe explain what's happening from your perspective?”

“Sort of,” Yalmay said. “But it’s the little things, you know? I keep thinking, if only I did something different, everything would be fine. If I had just made a better impression that one time, or if I had been a bit more confident and found the right words to say… then they would like me.” She looked at Kylara, who had opened her mouth to object. “And I know it’s silly,” Yalmay continued before her sister could say anything, “you don’t need to reassure me. I know there’s no one thing I did wrong. I just feel like there is.”

Yalmay shook her head then sat down crossed legged on the ground. She grabbed a nearby cloth and dipped it in the water bucket. Then she rung it out and slowly started wiping some of the mud off of her legs. Billy had done a number on her. After a minute, Kylara sat down next to her. The ground was a bit damp, so she squat.

“I’ve been thinking,” Yalmay spoke again, “it would be so much easier if all my problems were because of one conversation I had, or one decision I made, or one flaw I’ve got–but they’re not. It’s many things, and some of them are just me. I can’t change them. Or I could, but then I’ve be changing too much. Do you know what I mean?”

“I do,” Kylara said.

Although for my case, it’s true, she thought bitterly. All my problems are rooted in one decision I made. And I know exactly which one.

“I keep obsessing over it, y’know. Why doesn’t Julya like me? Why doesn’t Billy listen? Why had Janeyca been so cold? I keep searching my memory for that one specific moment over and over again and–”

“Is it me?” Kylara asked.

“What?”

“Am I the reason they don’t like you? You said things are worse now, is it because of me?”

“N-no,” Yalmay stuttered. “I mean, I don’t think so. Maybe a little?” She sagged a bit. “I don’t know. I don’t blame you.”

“You can, you know. I don’t mind. If it makes you feel better–”

Yalmay laughed. “Trust me, blaming you would not make me feel better. I’d much rather obsess over–well, nearly anything else. Like that that one time me and Joontah’s mum got into an argument about my taste in clothes, or my cooking, or my dream to go to the University…” Yalmay smiled. “It’s funny. We get into lots of little spats like that, and I’m not even the argumentative one in this family. That would be you.” Yalmay looked at Kylara and bit her lip. “Gods, you’d do so much worse,” she teased. “I’m glad things aren’t switched because you’d be hopeless in my position.”

Kylara squinted at that. “Excuse me?” she said. “Never mind worse–I’m the argumentative one? What?”

“You really want to debate this?” Yalmay asked.

“Yes I–” Kylara began, then shut her mouth. “Okay. Fair point.” She frowned. “But, I’m not the one who’s currently having a row with a six year old,” she pointed her finger at her sister, “that,” Kylara said, “would be you.”

Yalmay puffed out a chest a little and pushed herself up taller, nearly eye level with Kylara, who was still squatting. Yalmay had a habit of doing that when flustered. Kylara thought it was adorable.

But just as she was about to respond, the door opened and Joontah walked out. Billy wasn’t with him.

“Sorry about that,” Joontah said. He ran his fingers through his hair and turned to Yalmay apologetically. “You know my mum doesn’t like you, and she’s been even more stressed lately, with my father and the robberies affecting her business. I’m trying to get Billy to not listen but–well, she mentions you fairly often. Usually when ranting. He’s picked up on it.”

“It’s alright,” Yalmay smiled wanly at him. “I’m used to it.”

Joontah frowned at that as if he wanted Yalmay to elaborate, but she didn't, so he shrugged and seemed to decide against asking. Instead, he turned to Kylara. “You do realise you just made a binding promise to show my brother a magic trick?”

“All my promises are binding,” Kylara said. “That’s how it works. At least until I find a kid to pass this thing onto.”

She held up her right arm, with its obvious discolouring. Although it was still completely covered by her glove, they got the point.

“Still,” Yalmay said, “a magic trick? How are you going to pull that one off?”

“Something neat, technically,” Kylara corrected. Yalmay continued to look at her with worry. “I know,” she said, “but it isn’t a big deal. I’ll follow through, the intention is there. Plus, I didn’t say a time limit.”

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Promises were funny things, and almost any statement of intent could be considered a promise. You couldn’t push them out indefinitely, but there was no rush for this particular one. She could tell. Sometimes, it depended on who you were promising to. For adults, reasonable expectation and promptness seemed to be taken into effect. For children as young as Billy, they didn’t have a good sense of time. She could probably hold this one off for a while, although she wouldn’t. The rules of discourse were… complicated and somewhat arbitrary to say the least.

“I guess we can just hold him down again until he’s entertained,” Yalmay said. “Shouldn’t be that hard.”

Joontah snorted. “Shouldn’t be that hard? He was completely outwitting us.” He turned to his girlfriend. “How’s your hand, by the way? Sorry, I saw he bit it.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Yalmay said. “Not even bleeding. I probably overreacted. You just don’t expect someone to bite you, y’know?” Kylara’s lips quirked slightly upwards. “What?” Yalmay asked.

“C’mon,” she said. “It’s Billy. Of course he bites.”

“I can confirm that he does bite,” Joontah said. “I live with him. He bites often and with great enthusiasm.”

Yalmay groaned. “We really need to train him to like–”

“Not do that?” Joontah finished. He made a chomping motion with his mouth.

“Yes!” Yalmay said, laughing. “Seriously, what is wrong with that kid?”

Joontah shrugged. “Maybe I just taste good.” He winked. “I’ll just need to cover myself in spices. That way you’ll like the last of me, and he won’t.”

Aaand this was getting too flirtatious for Kylara.

She cleared her throat. “Anyway,” she said, as if that conversation had never happened, “do you two need anymore help? Because I think I’m going to head back home.”

Joontah and Yalmay exchanged glances. “We’ll be fine,” Yalmay said. “I’ll try not to lose him again.”

Kylara eyed her. “Please,” she said. She smiled. “I now have a promise to keep.”

“Actually, what are you going to show him?” Yalmay asked. “I’m excited for this.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen something neat,” Joontah agreed.

Kylara shrugged. “Honestly, I thought I could just get away with doing a flip or something once he comes back.”

“He’s seen you do flips before,” Yalmay said.

“Yeah, but not lately. I haven’t been practicing since I lost warding. Too dangerous.”

“He’ll remember you doing them,” Joontah pointed out. “It’s not new enough to be neat.”

“Flips are always neat,” Kylara said, crossing her arms.

“You can try,” Joontah said. “I’m just saying–you might need a backup plan. The kid is hard to impress. Trust me.”

Just then, the back door of the Biraga house opened again and Billy came running out. He was soaking wet, but no longer muddy.

Kylara felt a sudden rush of guilt. It hadn’t occurred to her before, but this situation was also all her fault. Just a few months ago and they wouldn’t have needed to force Billy to have a wash. She would’ve constructed a ward against mud. All Billy would’ve needed to do would be to walk through it and he would be clean, the mud left behind and stripped away, blocked by ward. No water, no biting, no nothing.

She looked back at the door Billy had come out of with a glint of sadness. There had been a mud ward to the side of the door, right there. She remembered how happy Joontah’s mother had been when she had first put it up and how excited she was to show everyone how to use it.

It had been a simple ward–a half metre wide radial shape around the lower part of her doorway. Any shoes that passed through it would end up clean, the mud left behind before entering the house.

Kylara had put up a mud ward at nearly every house in Kookaburra Creek. For years no one needed to worry about tracking mud into their house. Now they did. All because of her.

It was a small, simple thing, but Kylara had always found the small loses the worst. The big loses were shared with the community. The small ones were solely her own.

She swallowed. She was glad her friends hadn’t mentioned anything, but she was sure they were thinking it.

“Hey Billy,” she said. Best get this over with, before she ended up feeling more sorry for herself. “Watch how it’s done.”

She backed up, kicked off her shoes, and got into position. Then she ran and threw her hands downward. The momentum of her body pushed her forward, and she spun then landed on her feet in front of him, her arms spread out so that her palms faced downwards. Her feet wobbled a little, but she caught herself.

It wasn’t technically a flip but a cartwheel, but she doubted Billy would know the difference. He was six and honestly a bit dim, even for six.

Besides, cartwheels were easier to do and she was out of practice.

She bowed with a flourish. “And that’s how it’s done,” she said. “Neat, huh?” She brushed the hair out of her eyes.

“No,” Billy said.

“No?” Kylara said. “Er… I can do a better one, if you give me a minute. I can add a side flip to the end. Those are pretty neat. D’you want to see that?”

“Why aren’t you flying?”

Ah. Her smiled slipped. She had hoped Billy wouldn’t remember that bit.

“You used to fly,” Billy said. “Why don’t you do that anymore? That was cool.”

It took Kylara a second to think of a suitable response. “I suppose,” she said after a minute, “its for the same reason your mum is angry at me. I lost warding.” Except for useless trigger wards, she thought. I can still do those.

“Warding?”

“I could never fly, you know. It was just wards.”

“It looked like flying,” Billy insisted. “I saw it. You were flying.”

“I was just standing on something very hard to see. Wards are practically invisible, you know. So I understand how it can look like flying, but it wasn’t. Not really.”

“I liked it when you could fly,” Billy said miserably. “I want to be a warder one day.” He pointed at her right arm. “Can you give it to me?” he asked.

Kylara frowned. Her arm was completely covered, by both her glove and the sleeve of her shirt. She wondered exactly how much the Biragas were talking about her, if Billy knew which arm to point to.

“Giving someone a warding mark is a complicated process,” she said, “it takes a lot of trust. Plus, you need to be the right age. Warding marks are always passed on to someone younger. How old are you?”

“Eight.” Kylara gave him a look. “Seven.” Another look. “I turn six,” he said. “Six and a half.”

“See, to be a warder, you need to be honest. That’s the number one thing. Lying about your age isn’t that.”

“That’s not fair,” Billy said. He pouted. “You didn’t tell me before! Else I wouldn’t’ve lied. I want another try.”

“Maybe when you’re bigger,” Kylara said. Assuming she didn’t fuck up the handover, Billy would likely get one more chance to be chosen as Kookaburra Creek’s warder.

“Really?” he asked. “When I’m much more bigger? You sure?”

What a horrible question to ask someone who can’t lie, Kylara thought snidely. Am I sure? How can I answer that? She rubbed the bridge of her nose. Well, maybe the honest answer would make him go away quicker. “No,” she said bluntly. “You might never get another try. This could be it.”

Billy’s lip quivered. “Really?” he said. “I’ll never get magic?”

“Likely not.”

That seemed to send him over his threshold. He burst out crying. “Mummy!” he shouted. “Mummy!”

He ran back into the house. She heard a door slam and then the faint sounds of the kitchen stopped as Joontah’s mum went to coddle her son.

Kylara cringed.

No good was coming out of that. What the hell had she been thinking?

“Nice, Kya,” Yalmay said, as if reading her thoughts. “That went well. I’m sure Joontah’s mum will like me even more now.”