Big Witch Energy - Kelly Jamieson Page 0,29

She leads the way down the hall, turning in to the first room. A long desk sits against one wall beneath the window, with a computer, monitor, and printer. On an adjacent wall is a small couch that looks like it folds down into a bed.

I set the books on the floor and take a seat on the couch. Romy pulls over a small table and her desk chair. She sets a tablet on the table. “Okay! I’m ready.”

“You’re freaking out about this, aren’t you?”

“No! I’m fine!”

“It’s okay, Romy. I know this is weird for you.”

“Weird. Well. Yes.” She meets my eyes briefly, then her gaze skitters away. “So.” She waves a hand at the books. “Can’t you just wave a magic wand and put all that knowledge into my head?”

I grin. “We don’t use wands. You’re thinking of Harry Potter. And no. Witches have to hit the books and cram for exams just like Ruckers. There’s no spell, chant, or potion that can give someone unlimited knowledge.”

She sighs. “I was afraid of that.”

“There are other things we can’t change. Aging. Immortality.”

“So we’re all going to get old and die.”

“Yep. Also…” I hesitate. “Resurrection isn’t possible. We can’t bring witches back to life.” I try to keep my tone neutral, but her eyes are alert and fastened on my face. She nods slowly.

“So.” I heave a big brown book up and set it on the table. “This is a good text to start with. There’s a lot of history in here.” I open the hard cover, and dust swirls up from the pages.

Romy wrinkles her nose. “Haven’t you guys heard of e-books?”

I give a strained laugh. “Funny.”

“Seriously, why can’t this whole thing be an online course?”

I stare at her. “Uh…”

“Sorry. I’ll shut up. Go ahead.”

“Okay. Well. The number one witch rule to learn is that you can never, ever drink peanut butter whiskey again.”

Her eyes widen. Then she sees I’m joking and throws her head back to laugh.

Christ, I love that laugh. I can’t stop my smile.

“Don’t say that!” she wheezes. “It was pretty good.”

“If you say so. Okay. Seriously. Let me just start off by saying that witchcraft isn’t just fun and games. Having these abilities is great, but…”

“With great power comes great responsibility.”

Another smile breaks free. “Yeah. This book…” I lift another one and set it on top of the first. “…has all the terminology you’ll need to know. I suggest you become familiar with it as soon as possible.”

“When can I take my WED test?”

“You have thirteen moons from the date you learned you were a witch to take the test.”

She blinks. “Thirteen moons?”

“Basically, a year. It’s already scheduled.”

“I have to wait a whole year?”

“There’s a lot to learn. You’re trying to cram two years of learning into one.”

“I’m a quick learner.”

“We’ll see.”

“What? You doubt me?” She glares.

I hold up my hands. “No, no! I’m just saying… we’ll see how things go.”

“What if it takes me longer than a year?”

I hesitate. But she needs to know this. “If you don’t take the test within a year—and pass—you lose all your powers. Forever.”

“Oh.” She blinks. “No pressure at all then.”

I chuckle. “You said you’re a quick learner.”

She makes a face. “Okay then.” She hesitates. “Is there…?”

“What?”

“Is there black magic?”

“Oh yeah. There are witches who use their powers for dark purposes. We learn spells for a variety of outcomes, but ones that are used for negative or harmful reasons are hexes and curses.”

“Will I learn how to do those?”

“Of course. But like I said… there are consequences for abusing power.”

“Right. The witch police.”

“The… what?”

She grimaces. “I was talking to Magan and Felise, and they told me about the witch police. The Board of Elders.”

“Ah. Right.” I shake my head. “Don’t worry about that. You can get in trouble, but that’s why we’re doing this—so you know your limits. You’ll need to get a notebook to use as your book of shadows. It’s your personal grimoire, where you can keep track of instructions for spells, hexes, rituals. Also recipes and any questions you might have.”

“That’s what this is.” She taps her tablet.

I frown. Everyone I know writes things down in a notebook.

“What’s a grimoire?”

“It’s a magic textbook.” I pick up another book. “This is a grimoire. There are instructions for creating talismans and amulets, how to perform magical spells, charms, and divinations, and how to summon or invoke supernatural entities.”

“Supernatural.” She swallows. “Like angels and devils?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“Ghosts?”

Our eyes meet, and the memory of that night at the Granger house, dancing