Chapter Seven

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Bryony scrambled into action, gathering the children and herding them away to a safe distance, counting students as she went to see that all were accounted for.

"I don't have Phoebe!" Bryony called. "She's not here!"

Hazel quickly scanned the school grounds.

There was Phoebe, at the edge of the meadow. Far enough away that Hazel wasn't worried about her. But she wasn't paying attention to the commotion either which meant she was focused on something else.

Hazel drew her wand from the waistband of her skirt and spread her arms wide to cast a dampening spell. This wasn't the first time a magical fire had lit up the schoolhouse. Spells, hexes, and charms went wrong all the time during lessons.

To make sure the schoolhouse remained standing, Hazel had placed wards throughout the walls and eaves, small black marks tucked here and there for protection.

But the scent of smoke would have to be purged from the schoolhouse for days with consistent magic. And if the fire wasn't tamed, it could spread to other houses, farms, and businesses that weren't protected with wards.

Magic crackled in the air like lightning. With a thunderous rumble, the fire dwindled down to a small spark beneath Hazel's spell then fizzled out completely.

With wand still in hand, Hazel approached Phoebe and touched her shoulder.

Phoebe startled and whipped around.

Spread across the ground was a small altar, complete with a quartz crystal at the center, blackened lines of ash in a pentagram on the ground, and match sticks lined up, three in a row.

"I don't appreciate that you set my schoolhouse on fire, Phoebe," Hazel said.

"Are you going to tell my daddy?" Phoebe demanded, chin tilted up in a defiant angle.

"I certainly should. What you did was dangerous and could have hurt a lot people."

"I was careful."

"That fire was nearly out of your control."

Phoebe crossed her arms. "If you punish me, my daddy won't like you anymore."

Hazel blinked, taken aback at the matter-of-fact tone of Phoebe's voice, the bald-faced truth she so succinctly delivered. Phoebe was purposefully sabotaging Hazel, not just because she hated her as a schoolteacher but because Phoebe wanted to keep Hazel away from Nick.

"I'm your teacher, Phoebe," Hazel said. "And your behavior was unacceptable. It's my job to ensure you get an education in magic. That has nothing to do with my relationship between your father and I. Now, this weekend, you will help scrub the schoolhouse clean of smoke and soot."

Phoebe looked insulted. "But that's not fair!"

"It's perfectly fair."

Hazel reached down and plucked Phoebe's wand from her hand.

"And you will clean the schoolhouse without any form of magic at your command," she added.

Phoebe's face settled in a smooth mask of smugness.

"Daddy's going to hate you for this," she said coolly.

Hazel turned away, her stomach sinking.

***

Nick had barely parked his truck before he was out and moving toward the schoolhouse in long strides. His face was tense, shoulders a straight, rigid line of worry.

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