Lucky Charm (Reverse Fairytales Book 2)(21)

“Who are ‘they’? Why do they want me dead?” My stomach growled, but my sandwich went uneaten. “Is this something to do with the MDS?”

Cynder sighed. “There is a lot you don’t know.”

I sat up straight now. I could tell by the way he was looking at me that this was going to be important. I was ready to hear the full truth.

He began to talk, his voice low and even. “I’ve always been a big supporter of Magi rights as you know, but I’m very involved in certain groups.”

“I know that you attended demonstrations,” I replied.

“I didn’t just attend. I organized some of them, back before it all got so dangerous and before I had to go on the run. There is a group of militant anti-Magi, and we were working to overcome them.”

“Everyone is anti-Magi in Silverwood it seems,”

“It seems that way at the moment,” Cynder replied with a sigh. “I should start at the beginning.”

I noticed he twiddled his thumbs as he spoke. It reminded me of my own habit of fiddling with things when I was nervous. “My parents grew up here in Thalia. My mother was the head chef at a hotel, and my father was the pastry chef.”

“So that’s where you learned your cooking skills,” I interjected.

“Yes. I’d often go into the kitchens and help them. I loved it there, but when I was seven, a job opportunity came up in Silverwood. There was a restaurant for sale. It was cheap because the previous owners weren’t very good at cooking. My parents snapped it up and bought one of the apartments above it. The restaurant was just outside the palace making it a prime spot.”

I knew where he was referring to. I’d been in his parents’ apartment a couple of times. I’d not noticed a restaurant on the ground floor though. Not that I’d really been paying attention. I’d always been too eager to get to Cynder.

“The restaurant was a great success. Word began to spread quickly, and within a few months of opening, we were fully booked every night. Things couldn’t have been better. Even at my young age, I was allowed to help out in the kitchens, and I loved it.”

“It sounds like quite the exciting childhood.” The only thing I’d been doing at seven years of age was climbing trees and scraping my knees. To think that we had grown up just a few hundred feet from each other, with only a wall separating us.

“It was except for one thing. Anti Magi feelings were high even then. My mother reminded me every night that I was not to tell anyone that I was a Mage. I was forbidden to use my magic anywhere except in the apartment. For a few years, everything was great, but I got careless. We were so busy in the restaurant, and I was just a kid. I thought it would be ok to use my magic. I chopped up some carrots using my wand. The door between the kitchen and the restaurant opened, and someone saw me. Instead of keeping it to themselves, they told the local newspapers. People stopped coming to the restaurant. The people that we considered regulars just stopped coming back. The rumors started. People said we conjured up all our food and it wasn’t even real.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I interjected. I’d seen Cynder cooking on enough occasions to know he was an excellent chef.

“It’s what the people thought. No one believed that we did it all by hand. Things just got worse. We were targeted for attacks. People threw eggs at us, smashed our windows, that kind of thing. A couple of months after the newspaper went out we had to close the restaurant. It was our last night of opening. My parents had long since stopped me working there.”

“They blamed you for what happened?”

“No. They never blamed me. It just wasn’t a safe environment anymore. We were threatened all the time. I don’t know why my parents kept it open as long as they did, but I think they were trying to close it down with some dignity. They were also trying to save just a few more pennies to move back to Thalia where it was safe. That night, there was a fire. The fire brigade managed to evacuate the apartments above, but the restaurant was gutted. My parents never got out. The official cause was a fire in the kitchen. A magical fire the newspapers reported. I saw the truth though. Someone had barricaded the exit. I could smell petrol. Someone had done it on purpose. My parents were murdered for being Magi. Next to the door, someone had painted the letters MDS.”

My hand flew to my mouth “Oh, Cynder!”

I desperately wanted to comfort him, but I sensed he wanted to keep talking. My heart went out to the little boy watching his parents die in the most horrific way.

“The MDS,” I said, remembering what Frederick Pittser had said to me on the day of my coronation. “Frederick Pittser is one of them.”

“It stands for Magi Death Squad and basically means death to Magi. They’ve been around for a long time, but since your father died, they have been a lot more open with their actions. You are right about Pittser. I’m pretty sure it was him shooting at us back at the castle. If not him, it was one of his lackeys. They probably heard about me sniffing around for information and decided to kill the pair of us in one go.”

I took it all in. From the little I’d seen of the MDS, my death was becoming a priority, probably thanks to my public work on behalf of the Magi.

“What happened to you after your parents were killed?” I asked.

“The authorities wanted to take me in. I was ten years old.”