Spell Book & Scandal

Chapter Twenty-Six

I swallow, trying to think. I don't know what kind of spells Christina has been casting lately; even though I looked at her notebook, my brain is suddenly blank, and I don't want to risk making something up, especially since Mrs. McClure has been there for Christina's training sessions. "Um," I say, wracking my brain, "I've liked most of the spells I've cast, but I guess..." I sit up straighter as inspiration strikes. "I guess it was for my mom's birthday last year." That's the last spell I did with Christina, before all this mess happened, and even though it didn't work the way I wanted it to, it was a spell I was proud of, and I know Christina had been disappointed that it backfired.

Mrs. McClure leans forward. "And what kind of spell was this?"

"My sister and I—" I begin, and then I clear my throat. "My sister scribed the spell, and when I cast it, mom's birthday cake lit up like a mini sparkler without candles or matches." At least, that's the way the spell was supposed to work.

Mrs. McClure looks triumphant. "Would you mind recreating it for us now?"

"I—" I try to speak, but my brain has run out of words. They want me to cast a spell for them? But I'm a scribe...no scribe could do what they're asking for. I swallow, realizing that that's the point. Only a caster could pull this off.

The other woman waves her hand, mistaking my hesitation, and in an instant, a three-tiered birthday cake with purple icing is floating in the air before me. Mrs. McClure watches my face intently, and I flex my fingers, trying to think my way out of this mess.

"Could I have some paper?" I notice the skeptical expression on the judges' faces, and I hurry to add, "it's been a long time since we did the spell, and I don't want to get it wrong. It would help if I could jot it down before I cast it, to make sure I remember the words."

The judges look bemused, and Mrs. McClure opens her mouth, but the male judge shrugs and waves his hand. "I don't see why not."

A pad of paper and a pen appear in his hands, and he leans toward me. "Thanks," I say, trying to keep my hands from shaking as I accept the materials from him.

It's hard to write with the four of them staring at me, and even harder to scribe, but I have to try. I did this once before, I remind myself as I put the pen on the paper. I didn't mean to switch bodies with Christina, but I still made it happen. Maybe I can make that cake light up, just for a minute.

I scribble for a moment, aware of the four sets of eyes fixed firmly on me, and then I lift my hand and fake a confident smile. I point at the floating cake with the pen, crumpling up the sheet of paper with my other hand. "I remember," I say, and then I speak the words of my cake-lighting spell out loud.

For a moment, nothing happens, but all of a sudden, small pinwheels of light explode above the cake, and the four judges jump. I hold my breath, but this time, there are no fireballs shooting up to the ceiling, just a merrily sparking cake that fizzles and vanishes as I exhale, cake and all. My shoulders sag in relief as the judges applaud politely, and even though I know it's a mistake, I glance at Becca's mom.

She's staring at me with her eyes narrowed. Somehow, I forced myself to cast, but I have a feeling she's not convinced, and my stomach feels heavy as I turn to leave the room. Mrs. McClure doesn't say anything as she escorts me back to the hallway, but I can feel her eyes boring into my back as I wave to Christina and step away from the Fennel room to fill her in on what happened. Even though I'm not exactly sure what happened.

"Don't say anything yet," she says, her voice a hurried whisper.

I nod, resisting the urge to glance back over my shoulder. When Mrs. McClure calls another name, I risk a look, but she isn't watching me anymore, and I sigh with relief.