What I first did in the afternoon was take care of Wulfie and Moonfire, and then I sat down to solve the demon-loosening spell. But as soon as I started copying out the list of things I knew, I saw at the bottom that if the dandelion root was used, it must be gathered before the sun went down. So back outside I went to grab it before the sun set.
Clearly the more practical way to be a witch was to be prepared. Have plenty of time to work out the spell before you need to actually use it. Otherwise your life was spent doing everything in tiny backtracking increments, taking five times as long as you should to accomplish a spell. I supposed powerful witches like Sarmine had a million spells memorized and wore a fanny pack full of essential ingredients.
Even if I worked any more spells after this week, which I wasn’t going to, there was no way I was going to wear a fanny pack.
When I came back in with the earwig and dandelions, I stopped in the kitchen and grabbed the pepper and paprika. No use understanding the self-defense spell if I didn’t try to mix it up, right? That wasn’t a slippery slope, just good common sense.
Once alone in my bedroom, I dug out the book with the spell for demon-loosening.
1. If directed elsewhere to use #9 or #3, these are the measurements: 1 oz of #9, 2 units of #3.
Okay, so looking at the ingredients list, that was one ounce of goat’s blood (where the heck was I going to get it now?) and two apples. I’d already figured that out.
2. If it is a Monday, use 1 oz of #12 and 18 units of #7. Else not, unless the date of the month adds up to 5 or is divisible by 5.
Halloween was not a Monday, and thirty-one did not add up to five nor was it divisible by five. So I didn’t need number 7—pumpkin (darn, one easy ingredient)—or number 12—basilisk urine (thank goodness). I worked my way up to step four, which had a riddle about an ingredient made up of chicken containers plus green leafy things, and I got stuck. What was a chicken container? A coop? A saucepan? There weren’t any ingredients that sounded like a coop or a saucepan.
I shoved that spell aside and dug out the paper with the self-defense spell on it. Slippery slope, here we come. I rechecked my solution from that morning and came up with the same answer: two and a half tablespoons chopped pear, two tablespoons water, three tablespoons maple syrup, one pinch each pepper and paprika; chop the pears with both hands.
Breathe.
Try it.
I grabbed a pear from my paper Celestial Foods bag and attempted to chop it with both hands. The pear slid out from under my knife and rolled onto the carpet, gathering brown carpet fuzz on the sliver my knife had cut.
Well, I wasn’t going to eat the spell. I wedged the pear between my feet and tried chopping again. This time I got a slice whacked off. Should have gotten riper pears. I laid the pear on its flat side and chopped again. This wasn’t so bad, just awkward.
The witch opened the door and I threw my hoodie over my feet. “Don’t you knock?”
“Since when?” Sarmine said. “I just want to make sure everything’s ready for tomorrow night. Have you been keeping track of the demon?”
“He’s got your first two tasks done,” I said. I assumed he’d finished kissing all those girls by this point. “I dunno if he’s found the phoenix.”
“He will,” the witch said. “Elementals can always sense other elementals. That’s my least worry. In fact, this all should go very smoothly. By this time tomorrow night the city will be under my command. And then there will be changes.”
“What sort of changes?” I casually wiped pear juice on my hoodie and tugged my backpack to cover the open spellbook.
“It will be a grand day for witches,” said Sarmine. “We will no longer be oppressed. We can come out of hiding and show the world our talents. The recycling program will expand. All city engineers will be directed to work on alternative-fuel solutions. Solar panels for all.”
“That actually sounds reasonable,” I said.
“And the city shall do my bidding in all things.”
“That, not so much.”
“Camellia,” said the witch. She squatted down by my backpack. I could see another of her spellbooks, the radio one, sticking out. I tried not to look over there. “Camellia, I’d like to talk to you.”
What had I done wrong now? I twisted awkwardly with my feet still covered, and grabbed the bag from Celestial Foods. “I got the things you needed for your spell tomorrow,” I said. “Ginger root, black-tea bags, apples, and rubber bands.”
“Good,” she said, and took the ingredients from me. She turned the ginger root over in her hands. Finally she said, “Have you thought any more about trying to work a spell?”
Eek. “I’m kinda busy with my schoolwork right now,” I said.
She nodded, and her face was kind of soft and searching. “Sometime, perhaps. Still plodding along on that self-defense spell?”
“Still plodding,” I said with fake cheerfulness.