Spell Check (21 page)
I was shocked my parents had waited up for me tonight. Maybe I'm the Golden One now. The thought unsettled me. It wasn't like when I had been four and Amy eight, and we had played on the seesaw. Amy shouldn't have to teeter down for me to rise up. What kind of a victory would that be?
The hundred-watt light from my desk lamp spilled like a beacon into the hall. I gravitated toward it, tiptoeing to soften the thud of my faux combat boots against the parquet floor. Einstein doubled back and took up sentry in front of Amy's room.
"Behave," I whispered, entering my bedroom. As I locked the door behind me, the wounded spell book coughed up another cloud of brimstone. The stink bomb fanned out like cigarette smoke and coated my pearl-gray walls.
Great. Just great.
I tossed my keys onto the bed and watched them sink into the pale turquoise comforter. I waited for the peacefulness of my un-goth, Zen-like room to seep into my bones. As the new owner of a shape-shifting spell book, I needed as much tranquility as I could muster.
After slipping the grimoire from the bag, I carried it my meditation altar, a curved Japanese bench. As I placed it next to my Kuan Yin statue, a fresh wave of anger rippled through me.
What had Parvani been thinking?
Evie had warned her not to direct a love spell at Jordan Kent. She had warned her to never direct a love spell at anyone.
Hello? It's called karma, you moron.
At last, finally, Parvani had caved. Earlier tonight we had rescued Jordan, Evie's secret crush and the victim of Parvani's spell. But we'd been too late to save the spell book. When Evie had first bought the grimoire at a used bookstore, it had appeared to be an ordinary paperback titled
Teen Wytche.
Once Evie had brought it home, the book had grown to the size of a photo album. The cover had transformed into plum leather with embossed silver leaves and vines, and the pages had changed into vellum covered with spidery handwriting.
The grimoire's author must have placed a fail-safe spell on it in case it fell into the wrong hands, like Parvani's
.
She's not evil or anything, just desperate and misguided. Her wrongful love spell had launched some kind of magical self-destruct code. The grimoire had shrunk. The edges of the leather cover had singed then reverted to paper. Most of the silver leaves had faded away. The stiff vellum pages had almost disappeared, replaced by printed text on modern paper.
I sank to my knees and placed my hand on the tattered spell book. A fragment of the cover was still embossed leather. It beat like a failing heart against my palm. Suddenly, the cover swelled and a jagged bolt of energy struck my hand.
"Artemis, Demeter, and Hecate!" I jerked away and flicked the bad mojo to the floor. Then an odd compulsion rippled through me. Moving to my desk, I scavenged through the top drawer until I found a silver permanent marker. With quick, exact strokes, I drew the silver leaf design on my left wrist. Just three leaves, but they matched the ones on the grimoire. The tingle from the bad mojo subsided.
I expelled a long breath. "Okay," I reassured myself. I was on a magical roll. Unfamiliar pride spiked my thin frame. After I had overturned the wrongful love spell, I had crafted a rightful love spell, where Parvani, Evie, and I had listed the attributes we wished for in a boyfriend. The new spell had worked immediately for Parvani and Evie. They'd been reunited with their true loves, Zhù and Jordan.
I sank back onto my heels. Too bad my Mr. Right failed to materialize.
The grimoire chirped.
I flinched like Einstein when someone squeezes his squeaky toy. "What?" I asked the spell book. For a second, I thought the grimoire appeared a little better. Then it sort of deflated and resumed its feeble death beat. Maybe the rightful love spell had arrested the damage, but it had been too little, too late.
Guess I'm not such a hot spell-caster after all. A fresh worry gnawed my insides. Had I made a huge mistake working magic in front of Parvani and Evie? What if word got out? Pretending to be an edgy goth kept everyone at bay, even the school bullies, the Smash Heads. Granted, Evan and Tommy weren't the brightest kids in class. At least they kept their distance. But what if I were forced out of the broom closet? The Smash Heads and everyone else would pounce.
Evie won't say anything. But Parvani might…
Fumes from Teen Wytche seared a raw path up my nose. Soon the reverse transformation would be complete, and the grimoire, with all its magic and wisdom, would be lost forever. Parvani and Evie had been so confident I could save it.
I wish.
If I could work amazing magic, I'd cure Amy. Then I'd cast a brilliance spell so I wouldn't have to disguise myself. And Mr. Right would stroll into Jefferson High and fall in love with the real me.
Y
eah. Right.
So not going to happen.
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