Page 14 of Spelling Disaster

Once the last police cruiser leaves the lot, there are only the three of us: me, Mom, and Eli.

Eli turns to me and the disappointment rolling off him makes me want to start with the excuses, like I can somehow convince him of my innocence and how this is a mistake. I never meant for my magic to erupt the way it did, in relation to the Horned God, but I also didn’t do this.

He sighs. “I’m not sure what we’re going to do from here.” Tall and slender, he looms over me with a fuzzy top of bright blond and silver hair on his head. His eyes stand out in a pale shade of blue and right now they bore through me.

“The coven is going to have to investigate this.” His attention remains on me. “At this point, the culprit of the library’s destruction seems clear. Now, I’m not willing to say this was done intentionally, Yasmine, we’re going to have to see what comes up. I’m simply telling you, telling you both—” his gaze flicks to Mom. “This does not look good.”

Me. All fingers definitely point to me and there’s nothing I can do to dissuade their assumption, either. Everything I want to say will come across as hollow and flimsy excuses.

I must have done it. Right? Starting with the strange book I had known better than to open.

Another week goes by before Mom even decides it necessary to speak to me or make eye contact. We move into the coven house in one of the empty rooms, and sharing a bedroom with my mom is much harder when she’s zip lipped.

I’m not sure what’s worse, her condemnation or her silence. I try to live with it, walking on eggshells while the coven makes their decision about me.

She won’t tell me about Remi, either. I’ve tried asking, to see what happened to my sister who is nowhere to be seen, only to have Mom turn on her heel and leave the room, as though she can’t bear to be around me. No one will tell me what happened to my sister.

Mom won’t listen to me.

She didn’t a week ago when I wanted to tell her about the vision, and she refuses to now.

Finally, we’re called in front of them.

A kind woman with wrinkles around her eyes knocks on our door and exchanges a long, loaded look with Mom. She finally sighs and nods, the other woman retreating until it’s only the two of us again.

We walk down the hallway together in sullen silence.

It feels like an eternity. The ache in my chest deepens until each breath is a struggle and my feet weigh as much as anchors.

Two witches wait at the door to the ritual room to greet us with bowed heads, Mom keeping ahead of me. Eli stands in the center of the room with Lark at his side. Both of them wear matching robes and equally disdainful expressions.

They’ve already made their decision. This meeting…it’s to hand out judgment. Once we’ve arrived, a clap of magic heralds the start of the meeting and my legs turn to jelly.

“We’ve been called here today for a serious discussion, a matter most grave. That of our esteemed librarian’s daughter, Yasmine, and her willful destruction of our coven’s most precious knowledge,” Eli starts gravely.

I gawk at the man.

Me?

He really thinks I have the power to do something so horrible to a place I love?

I open my mouth to defend myself only to hear Mom hiss at me to be quiet.

“Her mother, Jaime Williams, has released her daughter into the custody of the High Priestess and myself, as is her right in this case,” he continues. “In order to properly mete out justice in this matter.”

It’s the first I’m hearing about this.

My head spins and I turn to Mom with stars and black dots dancing in front of my vision. “What? What is he saying?” I ask, my words thick.

When had she done that?

“I’m an adult. I-I’m twenty-one. You can’t just give me away like that.” I want to reach out for her and something stops me.

Mom stands stoically with her attention on our Priest and Priestess without even a sideways glance for me.

“I declare,” Eli intones, “before our coven, that as our ward, Yasmine Williams must be sent to the Andora Academy for Witchcraft to learn not only their ways but more about her magic. She is a danger to herself and others unless she learns mastery. We cannot allow her to remain unchecked.”

A rock plummets to the bottom of my stomach and further south. The Andora Academy for Witchcraft? What the hell is that?

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