Spell Fire (The Teen Wytche Saga)

by Ariella Moon

  I sensed the dragon peering over my head as we traipsed the last few steps to Coyote Crossroads' orchid door. A fit-looking middle-aged couple emerged as I reached for the driftwood handle. They both did a double take when they saw me. The wife pressed her palms together in prayer position. The husband removed his outback hat and pressed it to his heart, bowing his head as he held the door open for me. I nodded and glided past them.

  My body elongated, and I swore I grew six inches. Inside the cafe, there was no line. Another miracle. I paused beneath the fern-painted ceiling fan and scanned the wall menu. I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but a weird craving fueled my search.

  The dragon exerted pressure between my shoulder blades, prompting me. "A Scorpion's Nest smoothie."

  Morningstar leaned over the high counter and gave me a once-over. "You feeling okay?"

  I licked my lips. "Absolutely." I had never tasted an orange juice, vanilla ice cream, and peanut butter combo, but I slapped the countertop and said, "I'm fine. Hit me."

  Morningstar tilted her head to one side and studied me.

  Oh — crap. Maybe I'm dragon drunk.

  I wiped the drool from the corner of my mouth and stood straighter. I could do this. I could act normal and in control. Behind me, the dragon blew on my hair. I clawed back the stray locks. "Strong ceiling fan."

  Morningstar glanced up. I held my gaze steady on her face and tried to remember if the fan was actually on. I couldn't hear the whir of its motor or feel the stir of cool air. I can't feel anything. I went for distraction and slipped a ten across the counter.

  Morningstar leveled her gaze, then handed me my change. "I'll bring the smoothie to your table."

  "Cool." My eyes crossed. I pivoted and fell out of my right flip-flop. Fortunately, the place was almost empty, and I didn't think anyone saw me stumble. Still, my face heated as I chose a table with plenty of space behind it for the dragon and my invisible wings.

  "Mind if I join you for a minute?" Morningstar asked when she brought my drink.

  "Please." I giggled, giddy with dragon energy. I was a bright, beneficent angel among earthlings. I was — as crazy as my parents feared.

  Morningstar scraped back the chair across from me. "Break time." She examined me a moment and her brow furrowed. "You seem different. Sure you're okay? You haven't been smoking anything you found in the desert, have you?"

  I laughed, not my usual sardonic laugh, but the tinkle of tiny glass bells. Tingshaws rang in some parallel universe. Maybe "Dragons and the Time-Space Continuum" could be one of my seminar papers if I got into Columbia. When I got into Columbia.

  "I'm totally fine." My problems floated beyond the white light, just outside my auric field.

  Morningstar fiddled with a paper napkin. I watched as she folded it over and over in neat, narrow pleats. "Where's Jett?"

  The giddiness vanished along with the white light. "Back at the store."

  Morningstar stared at me, a sympathetic expression on her pretty, girl-next-door face. "You two have a fight?"

  The dragon nudged my back. Its ability to meld and retreat puréed my brain.

  I stared at the smoothie and pumped the straw up and down. "We had a misunderstanding."

  Morningstar slid her hand under her jaw and propped up her head. "Want to talk about it?"

  It all gushed out: the fundraiser, the fire fortunes, and Lucia. Morningstar listened, frowning and making sympathetic noises. It was like talking to Jazmin or a big sister. I told her how Jett had shot down my dating suggestion the last time we had been here.

  "But you were having such a good time," Morningstar said. "I could tell he liked you."

  "Apparently, not enough." I took a long drag on the straw and was punished with a swift and horrendous brain freeze.

  Morningstar shredded a corner of the napkin. "This may not be about you."

  I pressed my palm against my forehead to stem the pain. "What do you mean?"

  "Has Jett ever talked to you about his family?"

  "No. Why?"

  Morningstar gave the other tables a quick glance, then leaned forward and lowered her voice. "His mother works in one of the casinos. After Jett's father divorced her, she latched on to one loser after the other. A second child and another divorce later, and now she's hunting for husband number three."

  "Poor Jett."

  "Seriously. I don't think he can do anything at night because he's afraid his mom will ditch his little sister."

  "Does his mom work at night?"

  Morningstar shook her head. "Rarely. Mostly she dates." She slid sideways out of her chair. "Gotta go. Break time is up."

  "Okay. Thanks for telling me."

  "Jett's a good guy. He just can't catch a break."

  I nodded. But Aunt Terra and Uncle Esmun deserve a break, too. The solstice event still seemed like the best way to help everyone. But how could Jett participate if he had to worry about his mom flaking?

  I took a slow sip of the smoothie and let the cold liquid slide over my tongue and down the back of my throat.

  As the answer came to me, the pressure behind me vanished. My senses snapped into hyper-clarity. No more nudges. No more wings.

  Great. The dragon was going to make me do this alone.

  Chapter Sixteen

  As I crossed the threshold to Spiral Journeys, the chime clanged. My nostrils flared. A fresh odor — a metallic base note beneath the potpourri of spicy incense and floral and woodsy candles — threw me into ninja mode. Blood.

  I scanned the store. Jett loitered inside the register area. He had removed his black hoodie. My gaze slid from the iconic tongue on his rock tee shirt, to his pale forearm, to the blood-soaked bandage on the inside of his left wrist. The smoothie churned to acid in my stomach.

  Guilt clawed my throat. I had driven him to this with my stupid plan to save the store. I should have stuck to what I knew: raising disaster relief funds for people on the other side of the country and organizing holiday gift drives for foster teens I would never meet. I sucked at helping people I knew.

  Left, right, left, right. Avoiding eye contact, I skirted the cash register and headed for the bathroom to wash my hands. Something made me stop and turn. My gaze collided with Jett's. A heartbeat passed, then two. His eyes searched mine, calculating.

  Realization dawned on me like an unflinching light. The little…! Jett had deliberately removed his hoodie. He had wanted me to notice. He wanted to lay a guilt trip on me.

  How dare he! Wasn't it enough I felt responsible for my parents, for the storm victims, for the foster kids, and for Sophia? What about the Winter Showcase, the church bazaar, and getting into Columbia? I refused to take on anything else, not Jett's self-mutilation or his problems. I wished I had my throwing stars. He wanted to cut himself? Fine. I would help him bleed.

  Fury drove me behind the counter to where Jett slouched beside the cash register. "You have a problem, you tell me," I said. "Because I'm an only child, and it would never occur to me you might have family obligations like a younger sibling to babysit."

  He straightened up. "I'm going to kill Morningstar."

  "The solstice event will help Spiral Journeys. It will aid you and your school. So if the only reason you don't want to participate is because of your sister, be man enough to tell me."

  "It's not the only reason."

  "Okay, name another."

  We glared at each other. Jett broke first. "What if I can't make it happen? What if there is a big crowd and the crystal ball does nothing?"

  "Has that ever happened?"

  "No, but I've never performed before a bunch of people."

  I hesitated. My be-the-stage-manager-so-you-can-avoid-risk issues popped into my head. "You performed in front of me."

  "Only because I couldn't control it."

  "See? The magic will take over. You have nothing to worry about. If it will make you feel better, we'll have tarot readers for backup."

  "The valley is lousy with tarot readers.
People will demand a refund unless you come up with something better."

  "Then I will."

  Jett folded his arms over his chest. "What about my sister?"

  "I'll watch her."

  "I thought you were going to handle the money."

  "Aunt Terra can handle the money. Your sister will have my undivided attention."

  Jett appeared unconvinced, though it was difficult to tell with his hair hiding his eyes. "Ever babysat before?"

  "Sure," I lied.

  "Because Isis can be a handful sometimes."

  "Isis?" My voice cracked.

  "Yeah. You know, you talked to her yesterday. The girl under the table."

  "Right." The seat-kicker fairy dust thief with the lying, irresponsible mom. Jett's mom! I leaned against the counter so I wouldn't keel over. "Isis is so blonde and your hair is so dark."

  "Different fathers."

  Quelle surprise.

  The chimes clanged overhead, announcing Aunt Terra and Uncle Esmun's return. They breezed in, Uncle Esmun carrying the day's mail. Jett pulled out the hoodie he had stashed under the register and slid his injured arm into the sleeve until his thumb stuck out of a slit he had cut above the cuff.

  I focused on my aunt and uncle. "How did it go?"

  "Beautifully." Aunt Terra beamed. "The bride and groom loved the ceremony. Their new house has wonderful energy."

  "Oh no." Uncle Esmun stared down at the typed letter in his hand.

  "What's the matter?" Aunt Terra asked.

  Worry lines creased Uncle Esmun forehead. "The landlord is raising our rent."

  "I thought you owned the condo," I said.

  "We do." Aunt Terra moved closer to Uncle Esmun and placed her hand on his shoulder.

  He handed her the letter. "They're raising the rent on this building. Our lease is up in five months."

  Aunt Terra breathed in through her nose, then exhaled a long sigh. "Maybe it's a sign."

  Jett tugged at his cuff. "What are you going to do?"

  Aunt Terra glanced up at Uncle Esmun. "We'll figure something out." She forced a smile. "Don't you two worry." She didn't ask Jett about the solstice event. I waited for him to volunteer. He didn't say a word. Not one word.

  Aunt Terra and Uncle Esmun headed for the back room, reaching for each other's hands as they walked.

  My heart constricted as if one of Lucia's demons had it in a stranglehold. Jett lifted a case of votive candles and carried it to a display table near the front. I grabbed my handbag and a stack of recycled scratch paper and headed for the book section near the back. There was something soothing about the smell and orderliness of well-kept bookshelves. They helped me think, even if the books were about nonscientific subjects like angels and animal totems.

  Eschewing the two rattan chairs, I found a corner and sat cross-legged on the recently vacuumed carpet. Digging into my handbag, I retrieved my purple gel pen from beneath the almanac, a bottle of hand sanitizer, and my gold scrunchie. Since I doubted my life could get any more grim, I extracted the almanac. My hand shook as I opened it to today's page.

  December Nine

  Second quarter begins 7:12 a.m. Pacific Standard Time.

  Tarot: The Queen of Wands.

  Be confident and strong-willed. Today favors accomplishment. Develop your warmth and creativity.

  The almanac said something positive! I gaped at the drawing of a flame-haired woman wearing a medieval gown and holding a long, branch-like wand. I straightened my spine. I'm an Avalon-Bennett. I take charge and accomplish whatever I set out to do. Pumped, I stashed the little book inside my handbag. I depressed the top of my pen. Click. Click. Click. Where to start? Make a list. Click. Lists were creative. Click. Lists were calming.

  I started with "Ten Reasons Why Jett is a Jerk," and got to number five, He's a coward, before guilt seeped in. I had avoided the spotlight for the same reason he had — fear of what I couldn't control. My anger deflated. I scribbled over the list and pulled out a fresh sheet of paper. "Possible Unique Concepts for the Solstice Event."

  If the storefront signs along the main road were any indication, Jett was right. The town was lousy with psychics, tarot readers, alien chasers, and vortex hunters. What made Spiral Journeys unique? Dragon shamans? I wondered what they did. Hard to sell people on what they couldn't see. Well, maybe not here.

  "It won't work."

  My heart stopped, then restarted. Thor stared down at me, as silent as a ninja's shadow.

  "Dragon shamans." He crouched and pointed to the page. "They don't do demonstrations. It's against the code."

  "There's a code?"

  "Sort of."

  I rubbed the space between my eyebrows. "Can you start at the beginning? How does one become a dragon shaman?"

  Thor sat down beside me on the carpet. He had dressed like the casual park visitors, with his brown hiking boots and khaki cargo shorts. His beige polo shirt bore a purple lotus emblem and the name of a wellness center embroidered above the pocket. "The shaman mentally journeys to the dragon realms and petitions to be paired with a dragon. He or she may ask to partner with a dragon with certain characteristics."

  "Like green scales, not white?" I breathed in Thor's lavender-and-sage scent.

  He shook his head. "No. More like virtues the shaman lacks. Like if you are fainthearted, you'd ask for a dragon who is strong and courageous."

  So I would ask for a germ- and fun-loving dragon? I rolled my shoulders. "Does a dragon ever randomly choose a human? You know, someone who didn't ask to be paired up?"

  "You know the answer." Thor stretched out his legs. His calves were tan and muscular, but not super-sculpted like a jock's. The side of his hiking boot touched the edge of my flip-flop. "One found you."

  "You think so?"

  "Know so." His right eyebrow twitched. "Young dragons have an affinity for pretty damsels in distress."

  "Is that how you see me?"

  "Pretty?" His eyes gleamed.

  "No." My cheeks heated like twin wildfires. "In distress. Because beneath this fragile-looking exterior, I'm a ninja warrior."

  "Then the dragon was attracted to your fire." He pointed to my heart. "Your passion. It might be here to help with a spell you cast."

  "I haven't cast any spells. I wouldn't know how."

  "Spells are mainly focused intent. Maybe there is something you've been secretly trying to make happen. Since dragon magic is monumental, the spells can take years."

  I flashed on Sophia and preventing my parents' divorce.

  "You have a warrior's heart," Thor added. "What dragon could resist you?"

  "Yeah. Right. Or maybe I blocked its flight pattern and it couldn't avoid me."

  Thor shrugged. "Everything happens for a reason. Even getting mowed down by a guardian dragon."

  "You mean, like a guardian angel?"

  "Pretty much."

  Except it made me dragon drunk, which increased my need for extra protection. "So how does the code fit in?"

  Thor scratched the skin beneath the medical alert bracelet on his left wrist. I had never seen one with a woven rope band before. "Dragon magic can cause ripples through the universe. So the dragon trusts the shaman will summon it only for matters of global importance."

  "I saw the people in your class. No offense, but I have a hard time imagining some of them understanding global issues, much less working to solve them."

  "Judging the books by their covers, eh?"

  I had the decency to blush. Again.

  "The goth wants world peace because her sister is in the Army on active duty. Portia's son-in-law died during the conflict in Afghanistan. The woman who looks like a soccer mom? She wants a clean environment for her kids…"

  "Stop. I get it. I'm sorry." I crossed out dragon shamans. "So you and Portia are on the board and in the dragon shaman class."

  "Yes." Thor bumped his shoulder against mine, rocketing tingles up and down my core. "Guess what's inside her black bag."

  "A larg
e book?"

  Thor dropped his voice. "Better. An ancient spell book."

  "Seriously?" Maybe it contained a happiness spell for broken marriages.

  "It belongs to Portia's granddaughter. Evie loaned it to someone named Salem, then they decided Portia should study it."

  The name Salem triggered the image of a waif-like goth a year behind me in middle school. "Why did they give it to Portia?"

  "To see if any of us can fix it."

  "You lost me."

  He motioned as if swiping his fingers across an electronic device. "Almost all of the text has vanished. It was there. Then something bad happened—" he made an explosion-like sound and raised his arms, "—and the writing disappeared."

  Just like Sophia. A sick feeling twisted my stomach. The room spun. My mind catapulted backward through time. The spell book went from here, to gone.

  "Are you okay? You've gone all pale."

  I tried to make a joke. "You mean, more than usual?"

  His head bobbed up and down. "Totally Team Vampire." He shifted his legs and planted his hands on the carpet as if to rise. "I'll get Terra."

  I clutched his forearm. Soothing warmth seeped into me. The spinning stopped. "No. Don't. I'm fine."

  He angled his head. "Ten minutes. If you don't appear normal by then, I'm calling in the big guns."

  "Fair enough."

  He stretched out his legs. Beneath my grasp, some of the tension eased out of his arm. Thor glanced across the store. I followed his gaze to Jett, who appeared sullen as he rang up a sale.

  "He didn't agree to it, huh?"

  Reluctantly, I released my grip on Thor's arm. "Nope. Not yet."

  "His loss."

  "Ours, too. The landlord is raising the rent on the store."

  Thor's brows lifted. "Esmun and Terra love this place. Can they afford to stay?"

  "Seems iffy. Hence the list."

  He rubbed his chin. "We'll think of something."

  A fresh mantle of soothing warmth settled over me like a fuzzy blanket on a cold, rainy night. He had said we, as if we were in this together. As if he wouldn't flake on me.

  "Do any of the board members have a special talent we could tap into?" I asked.

  "We're all Reiki Masters. We could do a healing night."