Page 74 of Spelling Disaster

And it’s too much for him.

The ground beneath our feet rumbles and trees topple, careening toward us and missing bythat much. The library ruins behind me combust again as flames roar up toward the sky and the dome of the barrier above our heads. Still, I focus on him, containing him and all of his ill intent.

I grit my teeth and push more. Every last drop of what I have. It has to be enough.

A body presses against my back as a familiar scent pervades my awareness. Mom. With her free, she’s protecting my back, keeping me safe while I do this.

It’s hard, physically and mentally. I feel the sensation of my power slipping away like I’ve lost control of millions of threads that all fit together. I have to let them go even knowing they’ll never be in my hands again and the loss it entails.

When I have him down to the size of a dime and my power is down to the bare dregs, I collapse.

Mom places her hand on my shoulder. A comforting presence and a plea for me to not stop. To keep going. Much to my surprise, the other coven members do the same. One by one they lend me their magic to help defeat the Horned God.

Magic rushes into me and takes up the space where mine used to be in a wave of warmth. It’s temporary, which makes this all the more bittersweet. Soon even the dregs of my magic are gone and the Horned God is nothing but a wisp of smoke trailing an inch above the ground.

“Mom…”

I trail off and with the smoke contained in a circle of glowing light, courtesy of the coven, she captures the Horned God in a blessed mason jar and seals him inside.

ChapterTwenty-Four

For a few beats, I barely breathe.

The vines sink back into the ground before disappearing entirely, gone as though they’d never been, the spell broken.

“Mom?” Trembling, I reach for her, tears finally breaking free when she grabs me in a tight hug.

“You did it,” she murmurs into my hair. “Oh, Yasmine, you did it.”

“Is it really you?” I lean back to inspect her. Her eyes aren’t glowing green but how the hell do I know if she’s still under his spell? “Talk to me.”

Her lips thin. “You seriously want me to prove myself to you right now?” she asks.

There’s enough venom in her voice to convince me and I hug her back, hard enough to wrench the air from her lungs. “I missed you.”

The coolness of the jar presses to my back. “I missed you, too, my girl.”

“Yasmine! Oh my goodness.” I break away from Mom only to have Lark grab me in another hug, her heartbeat more than evident through the thin material of her ceremonial cloak.

The spell really is broken.

Everyone is back to their normal selves.

Having the coven thank me, profusely and relentlessly, sits wrong. I’m not used to the praise and not altogether sure it’s deserved, considering the massive amount of help I had. Not to mention the near failure where we barely escaped from the Horned God.

“We never should have treated you the way we did,” Lark admits. She casts sad blue eyes on me, her pale hands reaching out as though to push the hair from my eyes and falling back to her side a moment later. “We were wrong.”

Now that one, I’ll take.

Rather than automatically blowing her off, or telling her not to worry about it, I frown. “You treated me terribly,” I reply. “You kept me on the outskirts of the coven my entire life, and when it counted, no one bothered to listen to me.”

“You’re right. We’ve always treated you as something to fear rather than embracing you the way we should have. Nothing we do now will be able to erase the past,” she continues. “Just know we’re grateful. So grateful for what you’ve done for us. And I speak for everyone when I say we are sorry. We owe you.”

Mom rubs my shoulder with her hand and Gus climbs my pant leg to squat on my other side, a mouse barrier in case the rest of the coven decides to be too affectionate again. To be too apologetic. He senses my emotional overwhelm better than any other supportive presence.

“We’ll try to do better,” the high priestess insists. “From here on out, we’ll be better.”

Eli steps up and the tightening crowd of bodies around me shifts back a little at his presence. “Our deep-rooted suspicion of the Clerics is to blame. Not an excuse, but the truth. We ostracized you and your family, Yasmine,” he explains. “We should have told you the truth from the start.”

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