of tune wind chime and repeated her last question:
Emma Balfour, do you accept me as your familiar?
“I do,” I said, then for good measure: “I accept you as my familiar.”
The last tendrils of smoke folded into the solid design. It cleared into the cemetery’s natural mist. I stared, awestruck, at what the smoke had become...
The emerald green eyes of the biggest snake I’d ever seen bore into my soul.
Glistening black scales. Black as tar. Five-inch fangs. Moving like oil over water. A forked tongue shot out of its mouth, a sharp pink blur. It hissed loudly and slithered toward me.
“Ask its name,” Stone whispered so only I could hear. Then louder for the class, “Once you have your familiar’s name—freely given—the contract is sealed.”
I nodded, raking blond flyaways out of my eyes. “What is your name?” I asked.
I looked at the snake. Pure muscle, wet green eyes, and razor-wire teeth. She rose up, coiling a base on the ground and stood to meet my eye-line. She opened her maw, fangs bared, and hissed, “Gilda.”
“Hello, Gilda,” I said. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
“Likewise, little witchling,” she hissed.
Her serpentine head bent forward in a little bow of greeting.
I wondered why she spoke aloud rather than telepathically this time, but I didn’t ask.
“Congratulations, Miss Balfour,” Stone said from behind me. His smile was beaming. It was proud. It was an expression I hadn’t seen in a long time. Actually, the last time I saw it was in Aunt Bryn’s eyes, when she found out I’d be attending Elmington Academy.
“You have met your familiar. And your partner in life. That’s no small thing—to Emma and Gilda, first familiar match of the year!” Stone finished.
The class applauded. Jupiter and Kevin screamed like girls at a boyband concert. They looked and sounded ridiculous. My responding smile could have split my face in two.
I stepped out of the pentagram blushing. Being the center of attention made me nervous, but I had to admit, it was nice to get something right for once.
“You know, the Rajasthan Roma people hold the snake in the esteem of an angel,” Stone said. “Their people, Cobra Gypsies in direct translation, emulate the snake in all they do; the way they cast spells, the way they live, the way they dance; it all stems from the cobra’s essence. They channel the snake’s power and sensuality into all they do—a very powerful omen, and a formidable familiar.”
My classmates muttered among themselves, all trying to stare at me and my snake without making eye contact. The whispers were almost louder than the wind. But I couldn’t exactly say I was surprised. When one thinks of a magical animal companion, snake doesn’t exactly rank among doggies and kittens on the cuteness meter.
Gilda slithered behind me. We positioned ourselves between Jupiter and Clark. His hand made a rare appearance, leaving his blue jean pocket to clap me jovially on the shoulder.
“Nice snake,” Clark said.
“Thanks,” I said. “Summoned her myself!”
Glad as I was to have a familiar, even I had to admit, this thing was fucking terrifying.
I examined Gilda’s long, sleek form with admiration. She was truly intimidating, and incredibly beautiful.
Stone picked off students down the semi-circle. Clark went next. His familiar was a sizable lizard named Otis.
“Seriously?” Clark turned his disbelieving gaze to Stone. The lizard slapped its tongue against its eyeball with a smack. Then its tongue lolled back into its mouth.
Our professor appeared to be suppressing a smile.
Clark eyed the lizard doubtfully. “Can I draw again or something?” he asked earnestly, scratching his head with an envious glance at my snake.
“The familiars do the choosing here, Mr. Kirkwood,” Stone said. “You get what you get and you accept it. Back to the circle, if you please. And don’t forget the salamander.”
“Ha ha, really funny,” Clark muttered as he picked his familiar up straight away and perched it on his broad left shoulder. Then he frowned at me and I just laughed. I mean, he did look pretty cute with the tiny thing—Clark, this enormous jockish dude and his little lizard companion.
It took some time, but eventually we circled all the way around to Kevin and Jupiter: their familiars were an orange tabby cat named Francis and a parrot named Perdita.
In the distance, a bell chimed. The dome evaporated. Cold rushed us from the outside and Stone dismissed us for the day.
Our class dispersed. Some hung back to kill time in the graveyard—the mist made it a decent cover for the smokers—and the rest of