the bar stool to face the counter. She closed her eyes and raised both hands to the side of her head with her thumb and middle fingers touching in circles. She could pass for a far more feminine, and far more petite, version of Buddha.
“Are you meditating?” I asked.
“I’m telepath-ating.”
“You look like you’re meditating,” Poppy said. “That’s how meditators sit.”
“Have you ever seen a telepathic person sit?” Zin opened one eyelid. “Maybe this is how they sit.”
Poppy rolled her eyes and looked at me. “The Rangers have an open enrollment period in a month and Zin’s training hard for it.”
“I didn’t know they had open enrollment,” I said, pouring the concoction from the beaker into cups. I pushed the mugs over to them and then filled another one for myself. “I thought that was more of a recruitment thing.”
“It is, in a sense. This is the first time they’re letting folks volunteer to be Candidates,” Poppy said with a smug smile. “I suggested it. She has to be chosen to participate of course, but it’s a small step forward.”
“That’s great! I’m surprised they went for it,” I said cautiously. “The Rangers seem...strict.”
The Rangers were the darkest, the most dangerous wizards on The Isle. They walked the line between good and evil to protect the rest of us—a never-seen, never-heard sort of bunch.
“Your boyfriend was a big reason that the program started.” Poppy gave me the side-eye as she took a sip from the mug. “You should tell him thanks.”
My cheeks flamed red. “He’s not my boyfriend!”
“What is he?” Zin peeked through the other eyelid. Now both her eyes were open, and the only thing meditative about her position was the crossing of her legs and the circles of her hands.
“Well, Ms. Telepathy, shouldn’t you be able to tell me?”
“Telepathy is a fine art. I don’t just go reading each and every one of your thoughts,” Zin said crossly. “It takes time, energy, and practice, and I don’t have the patience to be focusing on your love life. I’m working on bigger and better things.”
“The only thing you need to focus on is not spilling your coffee all over the counter.” Poppy nodded toward the cup in Zin’s hand, which was balanced at a precarious angle. Foregoing all signs of telepathy, Zin groaned and swung her legs down from the stool, setting the cup on the counter. Poppy shook her head. “I’m telling you that telepathy is not a requirement to become a Ranger.”
“What are the requirements?” Zin asked. “If you’d just tell me, I wouldn’t have to keep bothering you.”
“She’s been asking me this question every day since the trials have been announced, and she knows I can’t say,” Poppy said, turning back to me. She raised her mug. “This is good, by the way.”
“Why can’t you say? The requirements aren’t public?”
Zin shook her head. “It’s considered a ‘natural fit’ process. What the Rangers look for in a Candidate is largely a mystery. They say the true signs of a Ranger will emerge naturally, and if they give off hints, people will game the system.”
“That makes training difficult,” I said with a sympathetic look to Zin. “I’m sure you’ll do fine.”
“Hold on, don’t you wiggle out of this one,” Poppy said, pointing to me. “Even though Zin’s not telepathic, she’s got a point. What is Ranger X to you? You can’t keep secrets from us, you know. We’re your cousins and your friends, so that’s a double no-no. Spill the beans, Lily.”
“There are no beans to spill!” I shrugged, stalling with a huge gulp of coffee. I took my time swallowing, but even so, both pairs of eyes bored into my skull until I relented. “Fine, you want the truth? There’s nothing between us...anymore. We’re just working together to find The Magic of Mixology , that’s all. Nothing more than that.”
“Why don’t I believe you?” Poppy narrowed her eyes at me. “I