Page 7 of Spelling Disaster

And there, just outside the ring of light around the flickering blue and amber, is the outline of horns. They rise and cast darkness against the tree trunks behind the man, the god.

The one from the engravings.

He’s even more massive standing in front of me. The muscles in his arms and chest are cut from stone and his fingers flex at his sides. Each inhale has his chest heaving like a beast who’s run the gamut and sweat sheens along tanned gold skin, dripping down toward the loin cloth lined in fur.

I’m not sure what freaks me out more: the sight of him, the sight of blood on his palms, or the way I want to go to him.

I’m captivated.

It’s primal anarchy and nothing I’ve been allowed to experience before. Nothing I’ve been allowed to evenconsiderwanting or turning toward because I’ve never been given a choice.

These people all choose to follow the beat of their blood.

If given the same choice, would I want to be in their position? Dancing for this god and his delights?

The smoke is in my lungs and in my nose, my mind, turning the outside world into a distant dream and this scene into reality. There’s no thinking, only feeling. No worries outside the beat of my heart and the Horned God.

Despite the mask he wears, I know he’s looking directly at me.

Blood brought me here and the Horned God is demanding a sacrifice from me. What am I willing to give up in order to keep my magic? He can make it happen. If anyone can offer me this lifeline, it’s him.

I have no idea what I’ll gain if I make one, or what I’ll lose.

“Yasmine? What are you doing? Yas, answer me!”

My mother’s voice pulls me out of the vision like a hook through my middle and I come back to my body with a gasp. Hastily, still blinking to shed myself of the fog of the bonfire, I shut the book, shoving it underneath one of the back shelves as I struggle to catch my breath.

Holy shit, what just happened to me?

The vision felt tangible enough that it’s taking me much longer to feel at home in my reality. The only reality, I reason. The vision wasn’t real, despite how my lungs feel burned and filled with the taste of wildness.

“Yasmine, I swear…” Mom trails off. “Where are you?”

I hurry toward her, following the sound of her disappointment and find her waiting for me with her foot tapping against the floor back where I’d been when I first discovered the book.

“I’m here,” I tell her. The hasty smile I plaster on my face is hardly convincing.

She scours me from top to bottom with a look, and an arch of her right brow tells me exactly what she thinks of my appearance.

“You’re lollygagging again?” she asks. “Today of all days?”

I shake my head. “I’m finishing up the cart, Mom. I just didn’t hear you calling me. Sorry.”

A loud ticking fills my ears, as though a heart is beating underneath the floorboards of the ancient library. Why hadn’t I noticed it before?

My own heart times with it until they beat in tandem and it’s a wonder Mom can’t hear either one.

“Why do you look as though you’ve run a marathon, then?” Mom presses. She taps her foot waiting for an answer but her taps are at odds with the ticking, threatening to drive me mad.

Do I tell her? Or not?

She knows more about the magic world than I do as she’s been a part of it for longer. Going out on a limb, I decide to share. “Actually, it was the strangest thing. I had a vision—”

The ticking grows louder as Mom shakes her head and interrupts with, “Honey, we really don’t have time for your fantasies.” She points over her shoulder. “I need your help. I’ve got a line at the front desk and there are way too many people for me to handle by myself. Everyone is here for your birthday celebration.”

“Mom, I’m trying to tell you. I grabbed a book and I saw this scene in my head, with people around a bonfire—” I start to say again, too distracted to think straight.

“You’ll tell me later, Yas. Okay?” She turns and heads off in the opposite direction. “Once we finish with these patrons, then I need you to go grab Remi and get ready. We’re on a schedule.”

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