Spells and Sorcery

Chapter Two

I slumped lower against the metal chains. "I wonder what else people are lying to me about..."

"You know about the Easter Bunny, right?"

I sat up, wide-eyed. A man-sized rabbit existed?

"He's not real," the man finished with an amused smile.

"Very funny," I said, clutching my still-pounding heart. "After tonight, I'm pretty sure I'd believe anything is real."

"Magic is real. The Easter Bunny is not. How about we start there?"

"I can't wrap my head around it," I said, looking up at the stars. I might've still been dreaming, but this guy seemed real enough. "I mean, is science really science or is it magic?"

"I'd go out on a limb and say your understanding of science is sound," he said thoughtfully. "Magic tends to stay within magical communities. Not too much gets out into the nonmagical lesson books."

"What about gravity?" I said, lifting my feet from the ground and letting the swing do the work. "Does magic make the earth go 'round?"

"No, the earth rotates due to leftover inertia from when the solar system was created," he said without missing a beat.

My feet thudded back onto the sand and I stared at him. I'd never been out-nerded before.

"Magic is more like another sense," he said, slowly swinging back and forth. "It's like an extra hand you wield with your mind."

"Oh." I frowned. "I don't know what that means."

"Here." He flicked his hand and, in a purple puff of smoke, a thick book appeared in his hand.

My eyes nearly fell out of my head for what felt like the hundredth time that night. "How did you do that? What is that?"

"This," he offered the book to me, "is a primer. It was used in the late seventeenth century for young magicals. Very basic, of course, but the best tutorial I've found to introduce magic."

The most purple book I'd ever seen, it was well-worn, the edges frayed and water damaged. The title, Spells and Sorcery, Volume 1, was embossed in a gold lettering that almost glowed.

It was one thing to see puffs of yellow smoke and sandwiches, but something about this book was alive, and calling to some ethereal feeling dancing in the pit of my stomach.

I shook my head. Probably indigestion. "This is..."

"Open it."

"I..." Even though I was still in shock, curiosity was starting to take hold. That strange calling grew more pronounced the longer I held the book in my lap. So, almost compelled, I opened the book to the front page and ran a finger along the pressed pages. "Where'd you get this?"

"I'm a collector of old books—specifically magical ones. I'm sort of a history buff." He paused and nodded to it. "Why don't you take that with you and give it a read?"

Something in the back of my mind reminded me of a book that housed an evil wizard. I glanced at the book and shook my head. "I can't possibly take this. It's...I mean, it's so old. Probably worth a lot of money."

"Books are meant to be read, not gathering dust on a shelf. What good is the knowledge in here if I can't share it?"

I stammered like an idiot and fired off a few reasons why I couldn't, but he placed his hand over mine.

"I insist. Think of it as an early birthday present."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "How did you know it was my birthday? I mean, it's not my birthday. Tomorrow's my birthday."