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Page 7


  I placed my hand on the stack. “Listen, I don’t care about any of that right now. I need you to tell me what happened when my parents came to The Other Side. You were there, right?”

  Nine plopped down on the desk and licked at his right shoulder.

  With a groan, I leaned in and stared intently at him. “Talk to me. None of this aloof cat stuff. You know something.”

  The cat stopped his grooming. Honestly? I don’t remember much. Just bits and pieces.

  “Then give me the little you do know,” I demanded. “I think our lives depend on it.”

  Your parents were on the run. I remember passing through the North Gate . . . Mrs. North . . . she was nice, had warm milk.

  I snapped at him. “Focus, Nine! This is important!”

  I don’t remember why they were on the run, but they were hiding from someone specifically. Your mother had just given birth to you—

  “So, I wasn’t born on The Other Side?”

  Nine shook his head. No, I definitely remember that now. You were born here—anyway, in Mrs. North’s shop— Nine paused. Wait, this is strange. I remember something I’d long forgotten. A woman arrived–—your grandmother. No, she wasn’t your grandmother, not yet, at least.

  I pulled out the chancellor’s chair and dropped my body into it. “And you didn’t tell me?”

  Nine blinked a few times rapidly. I didn’t remember myself until just now.

  Then maybe Merrygold was right. “Could we have been enchanted?”

  It’s quite possible, but I still remember so little. Your mother was crying as she handed you over to the lady—the woman you knew as your grandmother. She whispered something to your father and rifled through a bag she’d brought with her. She pulled out a book and then grabbed a pen from Mrs. North’s counter, scribbled something in it and handed it to your grandmother.

  “And?”

  Nine stood and stretched, arching his back. After that, all the memories are too hazy.

  “It was my copy of The Hobbit,” I mumbled.

  You still have it. I’ve seen it in your room. What was it your mother wrote?

  “Let the magic of life guide your journey.”

  No sooner had I gotten out the words than Nine widened his eyes. Without warning, he leaped from the desk to the edge of the nearest bookshelf. He studied the books as he walked along the ledge. Where did I see that—here! He pawed at the top of the book, knocked it onto its spine and called to me. Hurry, hurry.

  I jumped out of the seat and grabbed the book from in front of Nine. My heart nearly stopped as I turned the volume face forward.

  The Magic of Life by Herbert Twig. A Book of Spells to Live By.

  Your mother left you a clue. If we were enchanted, maybe the spell to disenchant us is in that book, Nine said.

  I cracked open the pages and quickly flipped through. “There must be over a hundred enchantment spells in here. How are we supposed to know which one it is? And who’s going to perform it, anyway?”

  There were only a few people here I might have trusted, but not enough for this. It would have meant I was going to need to tell them too much . . . that I had a talking cat, I broke into the chancellor’s office, and my parents, one of whom was a Morelli, were on the run seventeen years ago and smuggled me over to The Other Side to keep me safe.

  My best option wasn’t the greatest, but he’d have to do—Aspen.

  ✽✽✽

  “How do you know where his dorm is?” I puffed as Nine and I sped through the campus.

  Because you talk about Aspen all the time. Nine’s little feet had to move twice as fast as mine to keep up with me.

  “I do not!”

  Yes, you do, and I had to make sure he wasn’t a total jerk.

  Heat traveled up my neck. Did I really talk about Aspen that much? I’d have to ask Merrygold. She’d be truthful. “Have you been inside his room?”

  How else was I going to find out anything about him? He leaves his window open at night, and he’s a heavy sleeper—no roommate.

  I wanted to scold Nine for being so nosy, but how could I when the result of his nosiness might solve my lack of magic problem?

  “Is he a jerk?” I panted.

  Not as much as you might think.

  “What does that me—?”

  Shh . . . Nine hissed and darted into the shadow of a tree. I followed, crouched next to him and clutched the book of spells to my chest.

  About fifty yards from us was Rosalee’s group, probably heading back from their moonlight research expedition. Rowan waved at the rest of them, and he and another guy headed toward Sycamore Hall, the men’s dorm.

  Rosalee and the other girl stayed on the path and strutted past us.

  Now she, on the other hand . . . Nine’s voice came into my head.

  Had he been in Rosalee’s room too? It’s no wonder Nine had gotten himself caught. I rolled my eyes and watched as Rosalee’s red hair disappeared into the darkness. “Let’s go.”

  Nine shot out from our hiding place and led me around to the left side of the dorm.

  He peered up to the third floor, and sure enough several windows were open. Nine gestured with his head to the second window in. Directly beside it was a metal fire escape with a small landing on each floor above and below Aspen’s.

  Nine crouched and leaped to the first landing, barely making a sound. I grabbed for the metal rung that led up to the first landing on the second floor. Nine was faster, but we both made quick time. Without a word, he hopped to the edge of the open window and made his way inside. I took a deep breath in a failed attempt to settle my pounding heart. Now or never.

  Spell book clutched in hand, I climbed through the open window and peered around Aspen’s room. Not too messy, not too clean. His desk was stacked high with books. Nine, whiskers twitching, was standing up on his hind legs at the bedside, not six inches from Aspen’s face.

  His chest rose and fell with each soft breath, and his features were much more boyish, almost sweet. Over his forehead fell a stray lock of wavy hair that I wanted to smooth back. Seeing him made my stomach flutter, and instantly I knew Nine was right. I probably did talk about Aspen way too much.

  I whispered, “Don’t scare him.”

  Oh, I know how to wake humans up without frightening them. Nine gingerly jumped onto the side of the bed and raised his little paw to tap Aspen on the nose.

  Aspen groaned and swatted lightly at Nine’s “encouragement.”

  I glanced around the room and tiptoed to the bedside where Nine was giving Aspen another tap. I had no idea if it was a good idea or not, but I pulled off my hood. That way Aspen might know who I was when he saw me. His eyelids fluttered, and I held my breath. Please don’t scream.

  Aspen reached for his nose again and squinted. He smiled and gave me a glazed-over, confused look.

  “Aspen,” I whispered and leaned to him.

  The corners of his lips twisted into a goofy smile. Shirtless, he sat up, and before I could even react, he raised his hands to my face and pulled me into a soft kiss.

  For a second, I forgot why we were there and that Nine and I had just broken into Aspen’s room. The only thought rolling through my brain was the fact this guy I had a crush on was kissing me.

  Eh . . . hem. Nine’s voice invaded my head.

  I grabbed for Aspen’s hands and yanked them from me. “Aspen!”

  Breath hitching, his eyes went as round as saucers. He must have realized what he was doing. “Josy!”

  “Why were you kissing me?” My eyes dropped to his bare chest before I could stop myself, and my heart pounded wildly.

  “I was dreaming,” Aspen muttered. He grabbed for an abandoned T-shirt beside the bed and pulled it over his head. “What are you doing in my room?”

  I held up the book in my hand. “I . . . I need your help with something.” My chest burned with heat, but I did my best to ignore it.

  He looked incredulously at the book cover and then pinched at the
bridge of his nose. “Couldn’t it have waited?”

  I gulped down the lump in my throat.

  I’d like to move along. Spells now, kissing later.

  Aspen whipped around to stare wide-eyed at Nine. “Why is there a talking cat in my bed?”

  “You can hear Nine?”

  Of course he can hear me. I can talk or not talk to anyone I want.

  Chapter 13

  “Never mind him.” I shoved the spell book at Aspen. “We can talk about Nine later. Right now, I need you to help me.”

  Aspen rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “What time is it?”

  Late. Nine flopped down on the bed and his mouth opened into a giant yawn.

  “Yes, it's late . . . early, actually. Almost morning.” I opened the book and flipped to the section on enchantment spells.

  “And why couldn’t this wait?” Aspen groaned.

  “Because I think I know what’s wrong with me. Why my magic won’t work.” I relayed the entire story, at least what I thought I knew.

  Aspen took the book from me and scanned over a few spells. “So, because of an inscription in a book and the hazy memory of a cat, you think the reversal spell might be here? And you want me to perform it for you?”

  “Exactly. Maybe I’m not terrible at magic; an enchantment spell is just keeping me from doing it.”

  Aspen chewed his lip and ran his index finger down the page. “The solution is not that simple. If we don’t know which spell was cast, we could make everything worse. You could lose the ability to use magic completely.”

  My heart dropped into my stomach at his words.

  Aspen closed the book and handed it back to me. His eyes were full of worry. “I don’t want that on my conscience, Josy. I don’t want to hurt you. We need to tell Professor Magnolis—she might be able to help.”

  “No,” I said a little too quickly. “I can’t go to her.”

  Aspen raised his brows quizzically. “Why not?”

  I gritted my teeth. Professor Magnolis seemed to treat Aspen just fine, and I didn’t want to go into the conversation I’d overheard between her and Chancellor Sterling. “You are the only person around here I . . . kind of trust this to. I think Emiko might want to help, but she’s no good at this kind of thing. You’re all I have.” I held out the book to him again, not backing down. “You know what you’re doing. You just don’t want to admit it.”

  His gaze skittered to the large stack of magic books on his desk. After a moment, he grabbed the book from me again. With his free hand and a flick of the wrist, the lamp flipped on. He glanced back to me and held my stare.

  Nervous energy tingled in my chest. Aspen would never have said he didn’t want to hurt me if he didn’t care about me at all . . . at least as a friend. Whether he would declare that or not, I wasn’t sure.

  “Fine,” he said finally.

  Everything in me wanted to jump up and down and make a huge racket, but since that would give away my presence in the boys’ dorm past curfew, I held back and just offered a smile. “Thank you!”

  Nine was so thrilled about Aspen’s concession that he was already passed out and snoring on the bed.

  Aspen took the book over to the desk and sat down in the chair. He flipped through the pages and landed near the center of the book, slowly reading spell after spell. For a while, I stood over his shoulder and watched, but after about an hour, I could barely stand anymore, so I made my way to the bed and flopped down next to Nine. Drowsiness pulled at my eyelids, and the memory of Aspen’s accidental kiss burned on my lips, setting me up for a pleasant dream. But no sooner had it gotten to the good parts when Aspen startled me awake.

  “Josy!”

  “What? What?” I pushed up from Aspen’s pillow, and Nine let out a sleepy yowl. “Did you find it?”

  Aspen pushed his chair back and presented the spell book to me. “I’ve narrowed it down to three, but none of them are exact to your scenario. There had to have been multiple spells enacted.”

  Of course, none of this could be simple.

  I stood and scanned over the open pages. The first one Aspen pointed to was entitled Memory Enchantment II.

  “I’m pretty sure this is the one used to block your, your grandmother’s and Nine’s memories. You were so young that it wouldn’t have taken much magic to affect you. Rosemary is one of the ingredients, and it’s well known to not be as effective on cats and several other animals. So that’s probably why Nine has a partial memory of the events.”

  He flipped a few more pages. “But then there are two spells that can truly block a witch or wizard from using magic. The problem is that they are both temporary. There’s no way the enchantment could last as long as it has.” He pursed his lips. “Are you sure you don’t want Professor Magnolis to help us with this? She’s amazing at this kind of thing, and I know she’d be able to decipher the spell’s nuances.”

  My chest tightened at the mention of Magnolis, and I balled my fists. “No . . . you are the only person I trust to do this.”

  Believe me . . . it’s Aspen this and Aspen that.

  “Nine!” I scolded.

  What? It is.

  I plastered on a fake smile and turned back to Aspen. His cheeks sported a touch of redness that I’m sure was a perfect match to my neck. “Can we just do this?”

  Aspen let out an exasperated sigh and checked the time. “Another hour before the sun rises. We can try it, but then you and your cat need to get out of here and put this book back. I don’t want to get pulled into the chancellor’s office, accused of breaking and entering, theft, and performing unauthorized magic. I can’t risk losing my scholarship.”

  But yet, he still was willing to help me. My fake smile relaxed and gently turned into a real one. Aspen Rivers was most definitely not a jerk.

  “One time through and then we’re done. If it doesn’t work, I’ll head directly to the chancellor’s office, replace the book and then sneak back to my room.” My mind reeled with what I was going to do with Nine since he couldn’t go back to my room, but I’d have to figure that out later.

  Aspen nodded. “Fine, but remember this could be risky.”

  I bowed my head slightly. “I’m aware of the risks.”

  Nine, who was finally up, jumped from the bed to the desktop to get a better view of the spell. You have all the ingredients?

  Aspen swung his attention to the cat and stood. He walked to a shelf and retrieved a rectangular wooden box with a handle that looked a bit like it might hold art supplies. He unlatched the two brass locks on the top and opened it to reveal about fifty small vials of spellcasting ingredients. To my relief, there seemed to be no small legs or eyeballs, unless they were dried and ground up or something. These seemed more like a case of cooking spices.

  “Wizard travel kit,” Aspen announced with a dash of pride in his voice. “You never know when you might need something for a spell.”

  Before I had a chance to react, he had already pulled out several vials and placed them on his desk. “In my bottom drawer.” He gestured with his head to the one nearest to me. “Mortar and pestle.”

  I pulled open the drawer, and inside rested a stone dish and a cylindrical stone tool for crushing ingredients.

  “Hand it to me, please.”

  I grabbed the objects from the drawer and placed the dish on his desk but removed the pestle and held it.

  Aspen went to work immediately, following the book’s directions and adding the ingredients to the bowl.

  “You don’t have to measure?” I asked, fascinated.

  “When I started out, I always measured, but once I got the hang of it, I rarely needed to anymore. Seeing the right amount becomes second nature.”

  “Like magic?”

  Aspen’s lips tugged up to form a grin, the kind that made my heart melt into a drippy puddle.

  “Like magic.” He reached into the box again and pulled out a vial of a grayish powder. “I’ve found that Dragon’s Wart acts as a binder for
multiple spells in one.”

  “Dragon’s Wart?”

  He didn’t answer but popped open the plastic top and sprinkled a thin layer of powder on top of the other ingredients. Once he seemed satisfied with the amount, he held out his hand to me. “Time to combine it and hope for the best.”

  I held my breath and handed him the pestle. For several wordless minutes, Aspen ground the mixture until everything was a fine, brown powder. It looked pretty unimpressive, but I didn’t want to mention it.

  Nine lay near the desk’s edge, tail twitching and eyes half closed. Apparently, he wasn’t that impressed either. But that unassuming brown powder might be the answer to all my problems.

  He reached for an empty vial in the case and another labeled distilled water with a dropper. Using a small spoon, he scooped the powder into the empty vial and dropped in enough water to fill the container.

  “Ready?” Aspen pressed the cap shut and shook until the mixture was combined.

  I bit my lip. “Now or never.”

  He handed me the vial. “Drink this when I instruct you to.”

  “Okay.” The potion warmed beneath my hand, and I’m sure it was just in my head but something about it felt alive. My breath quivered at the thought of what was about to happen.

  Standing, Aspen held the book out in front of him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and the air grew still. I wasn’t sure how it could grow more still than it already was inside his dorm room, but it did, and a slight glowing energy radiated from his entire body. He was calling for the magic inside him. Even Nine took notice and sat up, unblinking.

  Aspen’s eyelids fluttered open.

  My breath shortened, and I could almost feel Aspen’s energy permeating my skin. This was going to work.

  Aspen opened his mouth to begin the spell.

  Instead, a high-pitched siren sounded. I nearly jumped out of my skin, and Aspen dropped the book to the ground. His magic dissipated instantly.

  “This is not a drill,” a disembodied voice announced. “For the safety of all students, please immediately assemble at the theater.”