I ask the question. The witch gives me a long look before she replies with a firm no.
“I’m sorry, but who are you?” The witch asks me.
“Ask her how does she know for sure, I don’t see any computers or anything.” She whines. I didn’t want to insult the woman by questioning her about her job.
“Do I really need to?” I whisper.
“Um what?” The witch questions. “Are you speaking to me or to someone else?”
“Yes, you really need to,” Riyah shouts.
“Are you sure?” I ask the witch.
“Are you talking to me now or…” I sigh.
“Well, yes, yes I’m sure. You can’t see it but inside my ear is a very small device, where we receive hourly detail reports about anyone who has passed in Faeven, I received my list.” She looks at something on her desk. “30 minutes ago, and there were no important fairy dead bodies on it.” I turn to Riyah knowing she heard that. Riyah screams literally screams, I jump from surprise.
“Describe me to her,” Riyah states angrily.
The witch is now looking down at me intensely, flaring her nostrils.
“How did you get up here and what are you, because you definitely do not smell like a human?” The witch asks. I ignore her question.
“The fairy she’s close to my age, skinny like super skinny, she has long hair that appears to be grey but in actuality is silver when the moonlight hit it. She’s also has a heart- shaped face, with wings.” I had to make sure I mention the wings. “Oh and her name is Riyah, well Za’Riyah.”
The witches mouth drops open.
“I think you broke her,” Riyah says sounding genuinely shocked. I would have to agree.
“Cairo!” The witch begins to scream, sounding louder than Riyah, if possible. When this Cairo person doesn’t appear she starts shouting the name like a raving lunatic.
“I thought I was loud, but she has nothing on me.” I nod my head agreeing once again. A door to the right of Riyah flies open, shaking the floor if possible and out walks the most gorgeous man, I think I’ve ever laid eyes in my entire life. His skin is the color of bronze gold, think of gold in it’s purest form and darken it a shade and a half. And he was tall, like 6’5 but not lanky as you would expect, the man had bulging biceps, but not too crazy. You can tell that he’s not obsessed with working out but the man does go to a gym, every now and then. His dark black hair, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man successfully pull that type of hair style off before. He had what seemed to be long individual braided plaits gathered in a man bun, with a colorful ribbon intertwined in one. But his face, my God, his face, was chiseled by God himself. His square face was accented with thick eyebrows, that looked as if they were just arched because no one could have an arch that perfect. His eyes were round and appeared to be honey colored. His nose had a roman shape, and his lips were full, fuller than mines, which was surprising because I have the lips women dream of and pay for, so says my sister anyway. And if the man wasn’t already perfect he had a perfectly manicured goatee. If I was a fainting type of woman, I would be on the floor.