Page 17 of Spelling Disaster

“Remi’s okay.”

I barely hear Mom’s whisper and might have missed it if I hadn’t been staring right at her mouth.

Remi…

“Oh my god.” The words burst out of me.

She’s fine; thankfully, she’s fine.

Mom’s eyes dart left to right and narrow in a silent warning for me to drop it. To not make a big deal or say anything else, to not ask more questions. Clearly, Mom isn’t supposed to reveal anything about Remi to me. Any nerves I felt are buried under the relief at knowing I didn’t lose my sister.

“Can you tell me anything more?” I press. “Please, Mom. What happened to her? Where is she? Is she really fine?”

Mom huffs out a breath, once again checking to make sure there is no one close enough to overhear before leaning close and saying under her breath, “I had time to think, to see. I know your magic isn’t harmful, Yas. I’m going to do whatever it takes to prove it to the coven. We just have to play along and give me the time I need.”

I have to crane my head closer to make out what she’s saying. Not even a whisper, only the smallest movement of her mouth, but I understand, and shiver.

Thank you.

I mouth the words.

Mom believes me. It’s more than I can ask for.

“Until I figure this out, you need to learn all that you’ve not been able to learn from your home studies. Do you understand?” she asks.

I nod.

“And above all, don’t talk about the ascension.” Mom looks up sharply, making sure we’re still alone. “Don’t tell anyone I’m a Cleric or that you will become one too. Okay? It’s exceedingly important.”

“I won’t say a word,” I breathe.

Mom does a great job of making the smallest things in life of utmost importance. Now, however, she’s pale. Serious. She doesn’t need to impress how imperative it is not to speak of what I’m about to become.

It’s our secret.

Mom straightens and clears her throat. “You’re going to be fine,” she assures me in a louder tone. “Keep your nose out of trouble and study hard.”

I want to reach out and hug her, to feel her arms around me and know when she tells me I’m going to be fine, it’s the truth. Instead, Mom takes a step in the opposite direction and stares at me from top to bottom. A sharp nod shows she’s okay with her assessment, whatever it is.

“Mom.” The wind steals my voice.

She’s not crying, and I won’t either. I’ll settle for a smile if I can’t have the hug.

This is our so-called heartfelt goodbye. And my entry into my new world. Mom has never been overly emotional about anything that I’ve seen, and she is not now that I’m being taken away.

Did I expect anything else?

She hustles back to the car without a look over her shoulder. I stand rooted to the spot until her car disappears from sight and I’m left with only my pounding pulse and the wind in my ears.

It’s not really the greatest combination.

One thing Mom never counted on me realizing: I read between the lines and I know, as someone banished from the coven, this goodbye is our last. I’ll be unable to have any further communication with Mom, with Remi.

I’ve never been truly alone before.

There’s a first time for everything but this is not a gentle transition; it’s a shove out of the nest in the most violent way.

The wind takes on a biting quality and seeps beneath my skin as the sun dips behind a cloud. Alone, and lost, and expected to do great things.

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