by Lexi Connor
Madame Mel gave Trina a nod, and Trina sang her song-casting spell. Her voice reached into every corner and crevice in the great library. B saw people seated on the upper mezzanines crane their necks for a better look. That was the kind of voice she had.
When she’d finished singing, her spell swirled around Madame Mel, teasing loose some strands of her blue hair. A jazzy, big-band-style tune began to play, and a baritone singer sang a song about dancing shoes.
The audience clapped and laughed, especially, B noted, the older ones. Madame Mel’s face flushed beet red as the magical music video showed a tall, thin woman with shiny black hair, looking suspiciously like a much younger Madame Mel, dancing at an old-fashioned nightclub with a tall soldier in his dress uniform.
B shook her head and smiled. Trina’s spell didn’t just write songs; it wrote love songs that brought back people’s most tender memories. Jumping jinxes, that was good magic.
B was so caught up in Trina’s spell that she forgot that she was next, until Trina ran off the stage and gave her a friendly high five. “You’re up, B!”
B headed out into the bright lights once more. Now was the time for her story spell. Now or never.
Madame Mel dabbed her eyes with a tissue and nodded for B to begin. B licked her lips but they felt as dry as sandpaper. She took a deep breath. She closed her eyes.
She thought about the library — the library where she now stood, and all the libraries she’d ever loved. She thought of the couches, the beanbag chairs, her bed, and all the places she’d ever spent happy hours curled up with a book. She let her mind wander through book after book, like a phantom spirit passing along the shelf, from stories of home and stories of school and stories of lands far away. She felt the places, the characters, the danger, the excitement, the romance, the suspense, the indulgence, the delight.
“S-T-O-R-Y,” she said, and as she did so, she knew for the first time just what a glorious, powerful, magical word it was.
A warm, pleasant, crackly voice began to tell a story. It sounded a bit like B’s own Granny Grogg. Books slid out from their library shelves and began dancing in midair around the great round library room.
“Once upon a time,” the voice said, “in a forest, high in the mountains, a woman lived with her beautiful younger sister, Flora.”
B was delighted to see that while the story unfolded, brown books floated down and gathered together to form a mountain behind B. Green books formed trees, and a few red books gathered together to make a little cabin on top of the mountain.
“One spring day, a prince ambled up the path to where Flora and her older sister lived. He spied Flora picking spring flowers, and stopped in his tracks. He fell in love instantly and asked for Flora’s hand in marriage, but her older sister refused. ‘How can I give away my Flora?’ she asked. ‘You must pass three tests to prove that you are worthy.’”
The story went on. Even B forgot that she was standing on a stage in front of hundreds of people, the story was so exciting. When it ended, with Flora herself helping the prince complete the final challenge so they could be together, Madame Mel clapped enthusiastically. B was startled to realize that the applause was for her, not just for the story.
“Congratulations,” Madame Mel said. “You pass this level.”
“That was amazing!” Trina cried, as soon as B rejoined her in the hall. “We’re both going on to the final round!”
B squealed along with her friend and jumped up and down — then slipped on something and lost her balance. It was a patch of mud from the flowerpot spell. B sat on the ground, looking at the smeared wet soil. And then it hit her — that was what Jason wanted with so much oil. Slippery, trip-over-and-hurt-yourself oil! She had to warn Dawn.
“How much time did that take?” B asked, switching gears immediately. “Do you think there’s been enough time for Jason to sabotage Dawn’s act at the talent competition?”
“B …” Trina said, shaking her head. “Your mom’s headed this way. It looks like she wants to congratulate you.”
“Keep her busy for me, please,” B begged. “Stall her. I only need a second to warn Dawn about Jason. I just hope I’m not too late!” And before Trina could stop her, B transported back to the school and arrived in the wings. She spotted George right away.
“George!” B gasped. “Where’s Jason?”
“I don’t know,” George said, looking worried. “I think he saw me following him and gave me the slip.”
“The slip is right,” said B. “He’s going to put that oil on the floor to sabotage Dawn — she could really hurt herself if she dances on it!”
George frowned. “We’ve got to stop him.”
The current act was only performing in the area in front of the curtain, so they could cross the stage without being seen. But after two steps, they both fell right onto their backs. Jason had already smeared oil all over the back part of the stage — the part where Dawn did her big running jump.
George picked himself up. “Dawn is next,” he said. “We’ve got to stop her from performing!”
Chapter 14
With effort, B got to her feet and slid back the way they had come, into the wings. They had to find Dawn!
B peeked through a gap in the curtains. A girl was making her trained Jack Russell terrier dance on his hind legs while balancing a dog biscuit on his nose. Beyond the girl and her dog was the judges’ table, and in the front row of the audience sat the other contestants. There, closest to B, sat Jason Jameson, grinning broadly as if he was the only one who knew a huge joke. He chewed loudly on a thick wad of gum.
“We’ll never find her in time,” B worried aloud.
“I’ll go get a mop and a bucket,” George said, “and I’ll …”
“There’s no time for that,” B said. “Even if you could mop it, it’d still be wet. No, George. You can’t clean this floor. But I can. Stand guard so nobody sees me. C-L-E-A-N!”
B concentrated on the floor, on a safe, sturdy floor that would let Dawn do all her jumping moves flawlessly. Magical bubbles and suds appeared and vanished over the entire surface of the spill. There was a whiff of French fries in the air for just a second, and then the whole mess disappeared, as if it had never been there.
“Wow,” George said. “No matter how often you do that, I still can’t get used to it.”
B barely heard him. “This isn’t over yet,” she whispered. “Who knows what else he might try? I’ve got to warn Dawn to be careful, and to keep an eye out for Jason. Where would she be?”
“The acts get to warm up beforehand, and hang out afterward, in the band room,” George whispered. “Let’s go.”
They hurried across the hall to the band room. Kids of all ages were there, dressed in costumes and makeup. At first B couldn’t see past a half dozen mimes, but then she saw Dawn, chatting with Jenny Springbranch. What would she be doing here? Something connected to Jason, no question. A troupe of acrobatic cheerleaders made a human tower right in front of B, nearly poking a hole in the band room ceiling, and B lost sight of Dawn once more.
“Dawn Cicely,” Nancy the director called, poking her head in the door. “One-minute warning!”
B made her way toward Dawn. When her sister saw B, her mouth dropped open in shock. “What are you doing here?” she hissed. “You’re supposed to be at the … somewhere else!”
“Wait, Dawn, listen,” B said. “Jason Jameson is trying to sabotage you!”
Dawn frowned at her, almost like she didn’t believe what B said. “I’ve got to go,” she said, and ran out of the room. B just had time to race after her before the music began.
Dawn danced perfectly. Despite everything, B was proud. She couldn’t say which she enjoyed more — watching Dawn dance, or watching the angry look on Jason’s face when the judges gave her a standing ovation. Dawn took her final bow and rejoined B offstage, out of breath.
A set of triplets went on and did a skit; then Clifton Davro took the microphone. “All you conte
stants should be proud of yourselves tonight. You’ve all got tremendous talent to have made it this far. We can’t quite decide who to take on to the TV show, so we want to see five acts one last time. They are: Katie Bell, Calum Gardner, Deirdre Fink, Jason Jameson, and Dawn Cicely. Only one act can make it to the national TV show and show us that You’ve Got It!”
Chapter 15
B peeked through the curtains to see how Jason reacted to the announcement. He didn’t seem happy at all that he was still a finalist. He gritted his teeth and stormed out the side auditorium door.
He’s got something else planned, B said to herself. I know that look.
She took off to intercept Jason in the halls, but she didn’t get far. A hand grabbed her arm. It was Trina!
“B, come on,” she said. “I just finished presenting my potion and you’re up next!”
B froze. After Jason’s cruel tricks, she’d almost forgotten she was supposed to be at the M.R.S.! She thought of how hard she’d worked on her Young Witch Competition. Her potion was in her pocket. She really wanted to win. But Dawn had been working even harder to win the talent show. If B left now, she knew Jason would try another stunt.
A squeal erupted from backstage. “That’s Dawn!” B cried. B, George, and Trina ran — to find a shocked Dawn, standing in the wings, covered in dripping paint! And there stood Jason, only a few steps away.
Trina grabbed a nearby roll of paper towels and started trying to clean Dawn up.
“Geez, Dawn, I’m so sorry,” Jason said, with a face that clearly showed otherwise. “It was an accident. I tripped.”
B leveled a pointing finger at him. “This was no accident, Jason,” she said, “and you know it.”
Jason sneered back at her. “Oh, yeah, Hornet Head? Prove it.”
“I don’t need to prove it,” B said. “I know what you did with the oil. This is the last act of sabotage from you tonight. It’s going to be a fair fight between you and my sister for the TV spot.”
“What oil?” Dawn was clearly annoyed, wiping down her arms, while Trina cleaned off her legs. “What are you talking about, B?”
“Yeah, Wonder Wasp,” Jason sneered. “What oil? You can’t prove anything.”
George’s eyes grew wide. “Oh,” he said. “Oh. Boy, oh, boy. You want some proof?” He snapped his fingers and ran off.
“What’s going on here?” Dawn demanded. She turned to Jason and glared down at him. “Have you been trying to sabotage me?”
George came running back with Ed, who was rolling a camera. Nancy wasn’t far behind. When Nancy saw Dawn covered in paint, she gasped. “Dawn, you’ve got to get cleaned up!”
While their attention was on Dawn, Jason tried to edge away.
“What’s your hurry, Jason?” Trina said.
“Now, everyone,” George said. “Let me explain. I’ve been back here, helping Ed set up cameras and everything else. I know he’s rigged up cameras all over backstage to catch some of the silly stuff contestants do before and after they go on. And I bet this camera here” — George pushed aside a curtain to reveal a hidden camera — “will have caught something that wasn’t so silly. Ed, can you rewind this to about half an hour ago?”
“Sure, George.” Ed rested the rolling camera onto a stack of boxes, still pointing at the group, and fiddled with the buttons on the hidden camera. Then, he angled the camera monitor so everyone could see it.
“What do you see, Nancy?” Ed said. “Looks to me like a kid in a magician’s costume, squirting two, no, three … no, four bottles of oil all over the stage!”
Now Jason really did look scared. He inched toward the door.
“Stop it right there, Jason,” B said. “Now there’s proof you were cheating.”
“That’s right,” Ed said. “That’s you, isn’t it? Yep, that’s a good shot of your face. Sabotaging the other acts, eh?”
“Is that so?” Nancy looked at Jason.
“He spilled the paint on Dawn, too,” B added.
Nancy nodded. “You, young man, are disqualified. I can’t believe you would pull rotten stunts like that. Take your props and leave the building. Security will show you out.”
“But …!” Jason protested.
“Out with you,” Nancy said. “Just wait till I tell Cliff.”
Chapter 16
Nancy and Ed left to tell the judges about Jason. The first act began, Katie Bell with the Amazing Dancing Princess. Princess, it seemed, was the Jack Russell terrier.
But Dawn still stood there, backstage, forlorn and covered with paint. “Thanks, you guys,” she said. “Now, you go back, B. Go with Trina to do what you need to do.” She gave B a significant look, but didn’t explain more, because George was still there.
“I will in just a second,” B said. “Um, George, would you go grab some more paper towels for Dawn?”
George nodded and ran off, leaving B, Dawn, and Trina alone.
B pulled her vial of shimmering pink makeover potion from her pocket. “Use this, Dawn,” she said. “It’ll fix up your look in a hurry. I want you to win this competition.”
“But, B!” Trina protested. “You need your potion. You’ll be disqualified!”
“I can’t let you do this, B,” Dawn said. “I can manage on my own. Go back to the M.R.S.”
“My mind’s made up,” B said, and before Dawn could argue anymore, B uncorked her little bottle and waved it under Dawn’s nose. A sweet, perfumey scent filled the air.
Dawn took a deep breath. Her hair lifted as though a wind had blown it. The paint vanished from her clothes as though a big eraser had wiped it away, but the spell didn’t stop there. Her clothes transformed completely, until Dawn looked like a professional dancer, all set to perform in a Black Cats video. Her dark jeans became silvery pants with a faux-snakeskin finish. Her shoes turned into shiny black cowboy boots. Her T-shirt was replaced by a black tank top and an off-the-shoulder shirt studded with sequins and rhinestones. Snazzy dark eye makeup appeared where there hadn’t been any before. Even Dawn’s nails got a new airbrushed design.
“Wow, B,” Dawn said, grinning. “I can’t believe you gave me that. That’s one powerful potion you’ve made!”
B grinned. “It looks better on you than on me.”
But that wasn’t quite true. Just breathing the scent of the potion had affected both Trina and B. They each had a cool new hairstyle. B corked her little bottle and put the rest of the potion back in her pocket. Maybe, if she was lucky, it would still have some potency. And maybe, if she was really lucky, she’d still make it to the M.R.S. in time to use it.
Just then Nancy came back to where they stood. “Wow, young lady,” she said, observing Dawn. “That was quite the quick costume change!”
Dawn grinned. “Yes, ma’am. I had a little help.”
“I should say so. Well, are you ready to go on? You’re next after Katie Bell.”
Dawn nodded.
“In that case, where’s your music?”
Dawn’s face fell. “Isn’t the CD still in the stereo? I just performed. I haven’t touched it since then.”
Nancy shook her head. “Nope. I’ve got all my sound techs looking for it.”
“I know what happened,” B said. “Jason. His final parting shot. I’ll bet he’s laughing all the way home.”
“Well, what are you going to do?” Nancy said. “Do you have another CD?”
Now any thought of getting back to the M.R.S. was gone.
“Um, sort of,” B said, before Dawn could get a word in. “Leave it to us. We’ll be ready when it’s time for Dawn to go on.”
“Huh?” Dawn said. “We will?”
B nodded at Nancy. “We’ve got another, er, version of the Black Cats album with us,” she said, and Nancy walked away.
“What’ve you got planned, B?” Dawn said. “You seem to be two steps ahead of me everywhere I go.”
“And now, for our last act,” the announcer’s voice said. “Daaaaaawn Cicely!”
“Ju
st go!” B cried, giving Dawn a friendly push. “Go dance, and leave the rest to us!”
Dawn headed for the opening curtain, while B and Trina huddled out of sight off in the wings.
“Do you have one more singing spell in you tonight, Trina?” B said. “I need ‘Swagger.’ Starting now!”
Trina’s eyes grew wide; then she nodded, closed her eyes, and softly began to sing the incantation of her songwriting spell. By the time Trina was in position, the music began thumping throughout the auditorium. It was “Swagger” all right, but like no one had ever heard it — a special remixed version that was even more exciting to dance to. And when the magical recording began to sing, Trina joined in, harmonizing along with her own voice.
B pulled out one of her shoelaces and whispered, “M-I-C-R-O-P-H-O-N-E,” and her shoelace became a magical mike. Trina belted out a wordless vocal that wandered over and under her own voice singing the main melody line. The crowd went wild, and Dawn picked up on the energy, dancing like never before, adding new twists to the choreography. Every move came off like a charm, right down to the final twirl during Trina’s last line.
The crowd leaped to its feet, cheering and screaming for Dawn. B screamed and cheered, too, not caring who heard her. She thought her heart would burst right out of her chest with pride.
The judges stood and joined in Dawn’s ovation. Clifton Davro himself climbed up on the stage and put an arm around Dawn’s shoulder. “You’ve got it, Dawn Cicely,” he said. “You’ve got a place on the national television show. You’ve got it!”
Chapter 17
“Okay, B,” Trina said. “It’s time now. Let’s go.” And before B could protest, Trina linked arms with her and sang a short transportation spell.
They arrived back at their couch outside the M.R.S. library. Trina, it seemed, had practiced her traveling spells more than B.
B’s mom sat there on the couch, clutching her purse and talking in worried tones with Mr. Bishop. At the sight of her daughter, she jumped up. “Where have you been, B?” she cried. “You’ve been disqualified from the competition, and you’ve worked so hard. What could possibly —”