“I—I can fly. Well enough,” I said through gritted teeth. “And I’m aware I only have one chance.”
One chance, one chance. Those very words had echoed in my mind every time I’d thought of my Novice quest. But I needed my powers. I’d do anything to keep my magic.
For any other witch or wizard, not passing the Novice quest, the easiest of the Council’s ranking quests, was unthinkable. I wasn’t so lucky.
Mother cast enchantments as she walked, talked, and even slept. Most times, she didn’t even need her wand to channel her magic. Just yesterday, within a handful of minutes, she had charmed the house to dust itself up, the sponge to scrub the dishes, and her piles of books to alphabetize themselves. Half an hour later, I had finally thought of a spell—A mean clean is in need—and summoned up enough magic for a rag to wipe crumbs off the stovetop and then fling itself into the waste bin. And then I’d slipped into a nap on the kitchen floor.
Casting charms pulled magic out of my blood far too quickly. And I, unlike most, paid a consequence for every spell. Whenever I overused my meager stores of magic, I fell asleep.
“We’ve got the Council meeting in a few minutes,” Mother said placatingly. “They’ll clear it up, as I’m sure it was just a mistake.”
“What was a mistake?” Conroy asked.
“N-nothing,” I said quickly, and he narrowed his eyes. My fingers curled around my wand, my nails biting into my palms. I wasn’t going to give up on becoming a Novice Witch that easily.
“I know what’s a mistake—any spell Eva casts.” Conroy snickered under his breath.
Kaya looked nervously between us. “I’ll summon the bookshelf now, especially since we’ve got two of you.” I beamed with relief. At least Kaya would let me get my book. Conroy glowered, likely not wanting anything to do with me. She raised her wand and chanted, “The right book for a quest, at the journeyer’s behest.”
The circular counter turned and turned around her, sinking into the wood floor with a rumble. The air sucked out of my lungs. My quest was finally beginning.
Kaya stepped to the side as a gilded structure rose in its place, gleaming under the faint light shining in through the overhead window. Magical tomes glimmered on the ten shelves. Pristine gold-stamped covers were mixed with well-loved books, big and small, old and new.
I breathed out a quiet, reverent “Oh.” It was beautiful.
“I’ll go first. I haven’t got time to wait.” Conroy’s sharp eyebrows rose in condescending slashes, as if he’d issued a challenge I couldn’t possibly meet. I leveled a glare back. He flicked his wand and chanted, “My journey is to begin, endow the knowledge within.”
The magical tomes shifted and fluttered like a thousand paper wings, but hushed as a book with a rich bronze cover floated up into the air. It fell neatly into Conroy’s outstretched hands, and he tucked the slim book into the pocket of his black tunic before I could see the title, probably just to irritate me.
“Good luck summoning your book, Eva.” Conroy’s eyes flicked to my broomstick resting against a shelf. “I mean, assuming you have magic.”
“Enough magic to give you a wart,” I retorted, but he’d already turned away.
“A pleasure to see you, Grand Master Evergreen and Mister Evergreen. And of course, thank you, Elite Ikko,” Conroy said, bowing again. He didn’t bother saying the same to me. “Well, I shall see you at the Council Hall.”
He brushed past, and I clenched my fists in the folds of my skirt, wishing I could magic away the smug look on his face.
Conroy twirled his wand with one hand and aimed it toward the doorway. His wand shimmered. “A light so bright, for the one that’s right.”
The door flew open, and a beam of sunlight shone down on him, illuminating the bits of gold in his dirt-colored hair as he strolled out.
“What a waste of magic,” I grumbled.
The shop darkened as soon as he disappeared. I wanted to turn into a tornado, to tear down the walls and race after him, and challenge him to a magical duel. I slumped my shoulders. Compared to his powers, I was nothing but a faint spring breeze.
Mother sighed. “He can’t help being Hayato’s nephew.”
“He can stop being awful, though,” I protested. Mother hid her laugh, but Father let out a chuckle.
“I’m ready for my spell.” I stepped up to the bookshelf and tapped it with my wand. “Book for me, please be seen.”
My head spun slightly as magic pulled out of my blood. The tip of my wand lit dully. Instead of flying into my hands, books leaped on top of the shelf and began swirling around, like dancers at one of the queen’s balls.
“Curses! I didn’t mean ‘be seen’ like that,” I groaned. Kaya’s lips twitched. She’d probably never seen a witch like me before.
A loud ring! chimed through the city, and I stiffened.
“It’s the first bell,” Mother said. “Remember, choose only the words that will help you concentrate on what you want to have happen. Rhymes are always good as they’re easier to remember and will help you focus. Create a spell that homes in on your desires. Hope for it. Believe in it.”
I nodded, but my mind had been wrung clean of ideas. I’d heard those exact instructions time and time again from the moment my magic had manifested, but creating spells still never came easily, particularly because of how hard it was to find my magic inside me. It was there, somewhere in my blood, but whenever I tried to cast a spell, my magic seemed to shrink away and hide.
All my carefully crafted spells in preparation for this very moment seemed to have flown out the door along with Conroy. The only thing I could think of was how they’d misfire.
“We’ve got a few minutes…” Mother added slowly.
But not much more.
I clutched my wand tightly, feeling my head spin. My limit was about five simple spells, which had seemed a lot until I followed Mother around one morning. In a few minutes, she’d cast twenty charms as easily as snapping her fingers.
With today’s one spell, somehow, my magic had seeped from me. And my ideas for spells with it.
My mind was blank.
All I could see were the books taunting me, spinning in circles and kicking up the dust. If Conroy had stayed, he would’ve been crying with laughter by now.
Maybe “Come on a journey, book on a tourney”? No. The books would probably start dueling. My words had shriveled into useless scraps.
But Father and Mother moved to my side.
“You can do this, Eva,” Father whispered in his deep, calming voice. And Mother squeezed my shoulder, her cool hand reassuring me.
My parents had never given up believing I’d pass my quest. As long as I hoped to be a witch, they hoped, too. I couldn’t let them down. Blood pounded in my ears as magic poured out.
“Bestow what I need, for this journey to succeed.”
The books rumbled, just like they had for Conroy, and I perked up. Had my spell worked?
I held my hands out, expecting a tiny book like Conroy’s.
The books shifted, spines popping in and out as if they couldn’t figure out which tome to dispense. Then, one after another, book after book shot out, throwing themselves into my hands with a resounding smack, smack, smack.