"I had to do it, father, or else many people would have died," I spoke defensively.
So, as we were fighting some crazy bastard last night, he thought the only way to be happy was to control people into worshipping him. I had to risk people seeing magic. But that was because he was holding them captive and threatened to kill them if I didn't give him what he wanted. The ring of the dammed.
But they were not understanding that.
"You should still have waited for Roland to do what he was doing. He showed up, didn't he?" father asked.
"Well, yeah but…"
"But nothing Mubanga. I was taking care of things. What would have happened if those people had their eyes opened? We would be running from the police as we speak," Roland spoke.
I just cursed under my breath and looked down.
"I know you love your job and helping people. I like the fact that you are helping here and working with us. But you need to start following orders, Mubanga. Those people were furious after they heard about it…"
"You told them?" I cut in.
"As I was saying before, I was rudely interrupted," he began, and I just looked down apologetically. "They want nothing like that to ever happen again. I know you are a smart kid. Young lady," he added as he noticed my look. "You could have figured something rather than risking the exposure of magic to the world at large."
"Understood, father. Michael," I spoke.
"So, now that, that is settled. Where is the ring of the dammed? I need to take it to them. Now," he spoke in a rather demanding voice.
I just looked at Roland as he removed the ring from his man purse. Though he never liked for me to call it that. He called it a pouch or something. But it was a man's purse, and that was that.
It was a green ring, and it seemed to grow in the dark. I even sensed its powers the night we went to get it from them. I couldn't even pronounce their name. Roland knew them well. But the ring had some dark powers attached to it. One reason the Vatican wanted it to be locked and kept from the wrong hands.
Roland gave the ring to father, Michael, and he just put it in his pocket. "Thank you for getting it. I will now take it where it belongs. You can leave," she spoke and gestured for us to leave.
I looked at Roland, and he just gestured for me to leave. Something was off with father Michael. Getting mad, yes. That I understood because I risked the life of all magical being and my life. Even the lives of the humans that were present at the scene.
But something about his behavior was off. He was acting way too weird.
But I just followed him because I was in the wrong and I needed not to ask many questions.
We walked out of the room and I closed the door softly behind me. We walked to the elevator in silence, but my mind couldn't just stop thinking about father's behavior. But I blushed it off as the elevator went to the ground floor.
"Roland, I think something is off," I trailed off. "I don't know, but something about father's behavior is somewhat weird. And I can feel the dark powers the ring holds," I spoke as my wizard powers picked up something in the air.
"He might just be stressed. What would be wrong with father Michael? I think you are just over thinking things. Let's go, your father might be worried sick. She has been looking forward to seeing you sense yesterday. Why didn't you go to her?" he asked as the elevator landed.
We went out and then out of the building. But again, my wizard powers sensed something in the air. But I just beat it down because as he said, I might be over thinking things. And the fact that I almost failed to save that girl yesterday, I might need some sleep. The past week had been full of nonsense.
We entered his SUV, and he took off.
We drove through the streets of Lusaka and then into town. He was quite a good driver. And he made sure he bragged about that. Making me feel useless since I didn't have a car. He tried teaching me, but it was an epic failure. Though I was still trying to learn.
"We have a job we need today. The new church that they recently opened about ten blocks from our church might not be a church at night. Father Michael said we need to look into it," he spoke, but still looked ahead.
"What is there? And when do we have to do the job?"
"Probably we can check it out tomorrow. And news has it that they have been talking about us. Preaching things about us that aren't true. Mostly you," he spoke and gestured for my dressing.
I was wearing leather pants and a matching crop top. Then completed the look with boots.
"What have I done?"
"Your look in general. You need to start dressing like someone that works at church." He spoke and then looked at my hair.
It was blue and long. But I don't know why they would talk about the color of my hair or why my hair had a problem with them. What I did with it was my own, not them.
"What I put on shouldn't concern anyone at all. And I was training for the love of God. Are you on their side or my side? Because, for my mentor, you surely seem to support their theories more."
He risked a glance my way but carried on concentrating on the road. "I know you don't like anyone telling you what you wear. I have been you mentor ever since you were a teenager. But we also need to look at what people are saying. In this case, it's not only about you. The church is affected as well," he explained.
"More reason we need to look at their church. They can't come here and start preaching about other churches. They need to be checked. What did you say they were doing that we needed to look for?" I asked.
They were already my least favorite people. Talking about the church I go to was one thing. But talking about what I wore and the color of my hair was something else. Just because someone what's getting a following or something, they saw it fit to compare themselves to someone else. Me in particular.
"Tomorrow. And you need to relax. Don't take this too seriously," he spoke and increased the speed.
Waiting for things wasn't my favorite suit.