Spell Book & Scandal

Chapter Twenty-Five

Christina and I stay up way past the so-called "witching hour"; we work until dawn, memorizing spells, talking about strategy, and filling in the gaps in Christina's spell arsenal with some of my own creations. With Mom still in the hospital, no one bothers to tell us to go to school in the morning, and once Dad has left for work, I call into the school and excuse both of us before staggering into Christina's room and landing face down on her bed. When I finally wake up, afternoon sunlight is streaming into the room, and I'm hungry enough to eat everything in the house.

I stumble down to the kitchen, rubbing my eyes and reciting spells, trying to remember everything that Christina and I talked about, but I pause on the threshold to the kitchen. My sister is sitting there at the island, clutching a coffee cup like it's a lifeline with her eyes closed. This is so much harder on her than it is on me, I realize with sudden clarity. Her whole future hinges on this test, and Christina's a control freak; it can't be easy for her to step back and watch me take her place. I feel a twinge of guilt that I haven't tried harder to come up with a spell that will swap us back into our proper bodies, and Christina opens her eyes as if she'd heard my thoughts.

For a moment, we just stare at each other, and then she pats the barstool next to her. "Breakfast?"

I laugh, but it sounds forced. "Lunch, more like it. Is there more coffee?"

She nods. "I made a pot. Your mug is on the counter."

I cross to the coffee pot behind her, surprised and touched that she bothered to fish my favorite big mug out of the dishwasher. "Thanks." After filling my cup, I slide onto the stool beside Christina, and for a moment we sit there sipping in silence. Finally, I turn to face her, and she lifts her eyes to mine.

"I'm sorry," I say, knowing the words can never be enough. "I seriously didn't mean for all this to happen."

A ghost of a smile flickers across her face. "I guess it wouldn't have happened if I weren't such a bitch."

I stare at her, stunned. "Seriously? No guilt trip or anything?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong; this spell seriously sucks. But," she adds thoughtfully, staring into her coffee cup as if it holds all the answers, "I guess you never would have scribed something like that if I'd been different."

"I didn't even think I was scribing," I admit to her, startled into honesty by her words. "I mean, when I scribe, it's different; I've got an intention before I begin, and I try to find the words that will make that intention reality. But with this mess, I wasn't thinking; I was just writing, just venting. I never meant to turn my anger into a spell."

Christina considers for a moment. "But clearly your words worked. What I can't figure out is how; even the best scribes can't actually cast their spells, at least not so that there's any lasting effect. We've been stuck in each other's bodies all week. That's the part that doesn't make sense."

I sigh heavily and take a sip of coffee. "I know. And I don't have any idea to fix it."

To my surprise, Christina drapes her arm around my shoulders and gives me an awkward hug. "First, let's get through the Threes tonight. Then we can worry about the rest of this mess, okay?"

I nod. "Okay." Taking a final swig of my coffee, I stand up. "Want to practice one more time?"

***

Mom is still in the hospital that evening, so Dad drives us to the exam. "Now, this is going to be a lot different than your practices," he reminds me as we turn onto the highway. "For one thing, the covens rented out a convention center, so there's way more room, but I'm sure they'll give all the casters a map."