Spell Check (4 page)

“Oh, I love this place.” Parvani swept past a rack of Wicca and New Age magazines and headed for a velvet-draped table. “Look, they have Buddha.” She patted the seated sandstone figure as if it were an old friend. “We could use one of these for our God symbol.”

“We only have forty-two dollars. The book said you could use a candle or horn instead of a statue. Either one would be a lot cheaper.”

Parvani frowned. “You’re right. We better see what the rest of the items cost, then decide.”

I took the list from her hand. “What are Quarter Guardians?”

“They represent Air, Fire, Water, and Earth.”

Whatever. “Well, according to this, we can use flat stones, candles, and even a feather. There are flat rocks down by the creek. We could use them.”

Parvani blinked at me as though I were a genius. I guess her family had never had to cut coupons or count pennies. I studied the list some more. “Parvani, you can’t burn incense in my room. I’m super-allergic.”

“Sorry. I forgot. Do you think the spell will still work?”

I was pretty sure it wouldn’t work no matter what we did. Actually, I hoped it wouldn’t work. Since Parvani’s brows were scrunched with worry, I said, “I’m sure it will be fine.”

She pushed a quick breath out her nose. “I’ll search for a red candle for love— unscented so you won’t have an allergy attack—the wand, and the knife. You find a Goddess symbol and a pentacle.” She handed me a separate list she’d written on a neon green sticky note. “See if they have any of these stones. They are supposed to have magical love properties.” Parvani headed for a bookcase filled with smelly candles. I didn’t hold out much hope she’d find an unscented one.

I glanced at Mom. She lingered by the counter, chatting with a clerk who had the quiet, knowledgeable look of a librarian. To Mom’s right, half hidden by the counter, was a small corner where the magic rocks lay waiting.

I walked past a loud trio of girls who plucked dangling earrings off a Plexiglas display case. Beyond them, a skinny, twenty-something guy examined dragon figurines. A father, mother, and young daughter crowded around the three-tiered pyramid display of rocks and minerals.

The little girl picked up a translucent rock, palmed it for a few seconds, and then returned it. I watched as she rounded the pyramid. The stones had been divided by type, with each group nestled in a tidy round basket marked with a hand-printed sign. The girl bent over a mound of tiny, amber colored stones, plucked one from the heap, and weighed it in her palm.

“This one,” she said.

“Excellent.” Her father beamed. “Citrine. Good for emotional balance and for quick relief from nightmares. Your sister will be most pleased with the results.” He patted the girl on the shoulder, then herded her toward the cashier. The mother gave me a nod as she slipped after them.

I stood alone with my list and stared at the shoulder-high display.

“It works best if you let the stone pick you.”

Startled, I glanced up from a cache of rose quartz into the kind eyes of the librarian-like saleswoman. My gaze darted. I spotted my mother at the opposite corner of the store, her back to me as she examined some expensive-looking crystals in a glass cabinet.

“Look at each grouping,” the clerk said. “See how some attract your interest and others repel it?”

My glance slid across moonstones, amber, some white lumps with no sign, and petrified wood. No reaction. Fool’s gold, iron pyrite. Agates with fossils. Nada.

On the top tier I spotted a nest of fire-colored topaz, and my heart skipped a beat. I reached for one, changed my mind, and plucked another from the pile. Cradled in my hand, cool and smooth, it seemed happy. It was home.

The clerk’s eyebrows arched a good half-inch closer to her hairline.

“This isn’t on my list,” I said.

“The list is for your friend. The topaz is for you. It is what you need.”

The small sign read: Topaz. Two dollars. My heart lifted. Surely Mom would spring for the tax.

I handed her the list. “Which of these stones do you think will be best for attracting love?”

The clerk glanced at Parvani, who discussed black-handled knives with a college-age saleswoman wearing a nose ring and a turquoise sari. “I’ll have Serena show your friend the stones.”

“Thanks. Where can I find pentacles?”

The woman pointed to the counter closest to the door. “They’re scattered among those cases. I’ll be happy to pull out any of the trays for you to look at. By the way, I’m Wenn.”

“Evie.” I thanked her again and headed off.

Mom met me at the counter. “Any luck?”

I thought of the orange topaz, now warm in my hand. “May I borrow some money?” I showed her the stone. “I have the two dollars, but I need help with the tax.”

“Did you pick this out?”

“It sort of picked me. I wish I knew what its magic properties are.”

Mom twisted her emerald ring. “Topaz gives you courage. It dispels fears and gives you peace of mind.” She mustered a wan smile. “I’ll buy it for you.”

“For sure? Thanks!” I gave her a tight hug. Mom’s lips curved upward, the closest she’d come to a happy face in two years.

The door opened, and a bone-chilling wind preceded a frizzy-haired woman with a bad dye job and a worse scowl. The New Age CD playing on the sound system skipped. A sour, evil smell scythed through the incense-laden air. I clutched the topaz and slipped my other hand around my mother’s arm. Mom drew herself erect. Her green cat eyes glittered and narrowed.

Wenn met the newcomer near a display of tarot cards. “Madrun. The object you ordered is in the back. Would you care to examine it in private?”

The woman raised her chiseled jaw. Wenn must have interpreted the gesture as a yes, for she motioned toward the back of the store. “This way.”

Madrun followed her like an ill wind. The two headed toward a couple of aisles of bookcases I hadn’t noticed before. To my surprise, Salem emerged, saw Madrun, and ducked behind a shelf.

Halfway across the store, Madrun halted and angled her pointy chin toward Mom. Madrun’s lips tightened, then sadness flashed in her eyes and she acknowledged Mom with a small nod.

Mom stiffened.

Rebuffed, the woman’s feral gaze shifted to Parvani. Maybe she could smell Parvani’s 50 SPF sun block over the incense.

“Mi—Miss Ravenwood,” Parvani stammered.

Madrun Ravenwood stared down her long nose at the items gathered in Parvani’s arms. “I thought I gave you enough math homework to keep you busy all weekend, Miss Hyde-Smith.”

“You did,” Parvani said in a rush.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Salem sneak behind the candle display, drop low, and then head toward the pyramid of magic stones.

“Then why aren’t you home?” Miss Ravenwood demanded.

“I worked during lunch on Friday so I…”

“Don’t fool with things you know nothing about.” Acid laced Miss Ravenwood’s voice.

Parvani shook her head like a bobble doll. “Yes, ma’am.”

Miss Ravenwood jerked up her pointy chin. Her glance flicked to Mom and me, and then she disappeared after Wenn.

Serena, the sari-clad clerk, appeared at Parvani’s side. “Don’t let her frighten you. Come on, I’ll ring these up for you.”

Parvani’s hands shook as she placed a knife, a pink crystal, and a pink candle on the counter.

Crap. I was supposed to find a Goddess symbol.

“All the red candles were scented, so I hope this pink one works,” Parvani said as Serena rang up the items. “The knife is pretty expensive. How did you do?”

“Not too well. I was about to look at the pentacles.” I glanced toward the rock display, but Salem had vanished again.

“Thirty-two dollars and ninety-six cents,” Serena said.

Parvani thrust the two twenties at her. “Forget the rest,” she told me. “Let’s just get out of here.”

“Okay.”

Serena handed Parvani her change and her bag.

“Wait a sec.” I set the sweaty topaz on the counter.

“And this.” Mom placed a small, drawstring pouch beside it. She paid for both, then slipped the topaz inside the moss-green velvet and handed it to me.

Parvani’s glance swept the back of the store before she headed, nearly sprinting, to the front door. I speed-walked after her, clutching the pouch like a talisman. Mom followed at a dignified pace, her shoulders back. Her emerald glinted as she flexed her fingers. For the first time since Dad’s death, she appeared ready to rumble.

Chapter Six

“Can I leave this stuff at your house?” Parvani asked as the Volvo bumped along her expensive cobblestone driveway.

“Sure.” My thoughts lingered on the skate park across from Sage Mage. Maybe Jordan had been there, practicing with the other boarders. I forced myself to focus. “Don’t let Miss Ravenwood get to you.”

“Miss Ravenwood picks which students get placed in AP Calculus. I can’t get into Cal Tech or MIT without it.”

“I thought you wanted to go to design school.”

“College is three years away,” Mom soothed. “Besides, your test scores and grades will help decide your placement.”

“Maybe. Thanks, Ms. O’Reilly.” Parvani opened the car door, dragged out her backpack, and eased the door shut behind her. Rushing past the trickling Tuscan fountain, she waved as the housekeeper opened the front door.

I pulled the topaz from its velvet pouch and ran my thumb over its smooth surface. I wished the rock could bestow peace of mind. My thoughts burned like overexposed film. As much as I didn’t want Parvani to perform the spell and steal Jordan, I hated to see a math teacher scare her. Bad enough they’d intimidated me my whole life.

Whoever thought up those seven stages of grief forgot one. Indecision. Massive indecision. If I ever have another session with the grief counselor, I’ll ask her about it.

Mom made quick work of the few blocks and two socioeconomic levels separating our house from Parvani’s. Back in the unfamiliar cleanliness of my room, I took another look at the list. We still needed a wand, a Goddess symbol, a God symbol, Quarter Guardians, and a pentacle. I decided to be a supportive friend and gather all the objects I could. Then I’d leave the rest to fate, although fate hadn’t done me any favors lately.

I headed for the entry and yelled, “Mom, I’m taking Baby for a walk.”

Mom emerged from the kitchen, a Kiss the Cook apron tied around her waist. “Be careful.”

“I’m just going to the creek.” Not the war zone. If she didn’t stop worrying, she’d end up with horrible wrinkles.

I grabbed Baby’s leash and darted out the door. A cool breeze gusted down Lucas Drive as Baby and I hurried toward the stream beyond Salem’s house. We reached the low, undeveloped hills and followed a deer trail through wet, thigh-high foxtails. A covey of nervous quail scurried across the damp path ahead of us, then took flight.

Breathing in loamy earth smells, I followed the sound of running water to the muddy creek bank. Baby splashed in and out of the stream while I found four flat stones to use as Quarter Guardians. The rocks were the size of salad plates, thick and heavy. I dropped them into Baby’s unused poop bag and prayed she wouldn’t make an unauthorized pit stop on someone’s lawn.

“I have to try harder in Gym,” I told Baby as I swung the rock-laden bag over my shoulder. The Quarter Guardians thumped me in the back. Evidently, they agreed.

We hiked back to the sidewalk. Friday’s storm had littered the ground with branches and wet clumps of leaves. Baby stopped under the weeping willow and sniffed a fallen limb. I tugged on her leash, but she nosed the branch and refused to budge.

“Come on, Baby Girl. These rocks are heavy.” Who would have thought magic would be such hard work?

Yap, yap, yap! Salem emerged from behind the tree with her wretched beast. “Interesting way to carry a poop bag.” Her lips, painted congealed-blood red, twitched.

I lowered the bag in front of me. Salem gave it a quick glance then said, “Thanks for not giving me away at Sage Mage.”

“No problem. Do you know Miss Ravenwood?”

“She’s my geometry teacher. She taught my sister, too.” Salem rolled her eyes. “So what were you and Parvani up to?”

“Nothing. Parvani was shopping for her cousin.”

Einstein barked.

The frost crept back into Salem’s voice. “Of course she was.” She tugged on Einstein’s leash and started to walk away.

“I’m sorry. I’ve had a bad day. Can we start over?”

“I’ll think about it.” Salem leaned forward to pet Baby. Her silver necklace dangled in the air between us.

A pentacle! “I realize we hardly know each other, but do you have a spare pentacle you could loan me?” I asked. “I promise I’ll give it back.”

Salem fingered the encircled five-pointed star and squinted. “You don’t look like the pentacle type.”

Well, duh. “I’m not. Let’s just say there are extenuating circumstances.” Like Parvani going insane.

Salem dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Are you and Parvani setting up a sacred circle?”

“No.” Technically, it was true. Parvani wasn’t even here. “Of course not.”

Salem sized me up. I shifted from one foot to the other. Then Salem’s attitude shifted and she cocked her head to one side. “Your dog wants you to take the wand.”

My gaze flicked to the narrow tree limb. “It’s not a wand. It’s a stick.”

Salem jammed her hands into the pockets of her crimson MIT sweatshirt. It kind of shocked me to see her wearing something other than black. “Suit yourself,” she said. “I gotta go. By now Amy will have called.”

“Amy?”

“My sister, Miss Perfect. Captain of the girls’ water polo team, president of everything in high school, and now, star college student.”

“Best thing about being an only child,” I said. “No footsteps to follow.”

“You’re so lucky.” A weird expression passed over her face. “I’m sorry. That was stupid.”

“What do you mean?”

Salem drew in her shoulders as if she wanted to conjure up a hole and fling herself down it. “I meant, you know, because of your dad.”

“Oh.” For a second, I’d forgotten the whole school knew.

“I saw his photos in Newsweek once,” Salem babbled. “He was awesome. No wonder you’re the photo editor for Yearbook.”