Free Spell For Sophia by Ariella Moon Page A

the bank of overhead lights went off. Daylight from the street-facing windows illuminated the room.
    "Do you mind if my friends and I move to the Walnut Room?" I asked. "If it hasn't been rented."
    "It's available. Of course you may use it."
    I fixed her with my best Junior Cotillion smile. "Thank you so much."
    "Please give your parents my warmest regards," Ms. Lambert said.
    "I will."
    Aidan and Dreadlocks gathered beside us. The girl had slung the tote over her shoulder. It rested against her hip, and the outline of the grimoire pressed against the black nylon. She flicked an appraising glance my way, then settled on a spot a several feet above my head.
    Uniformed firefighters strode into the room, distracting Ms. Lambert. I gathered up my things, noting the salt had been swept from the tabletop. Evie and I followed the others out of the room.
    "Where's the Walnut Room?" Aidan asked.
    Dreadlocks shouldered past him, fluttering her blue-feathered earrings. "This way." A faint southern accent tinged her words. She glanced back at me. "Look for the silver sign proclaiming, Donated by the Avalon-Bennett Family." Evie's strawberry-blond eyebrows shot up.
    Brushed nickel, not silver, I mentally corrected.
    Aidan waited for Salem, then clasped her hand when she caught up. I hustled past them, anxious to keep the tote in sight. Dreadlocks — Yemaya — must be new in town. All the local elementary schools funneled kids into Carter Middle School, where eighth graders ruled. As a sixth grader, I would have noticed an older skinny girl with a headful of dreadlocks. She must have had them back then. Uncle Esmun, who kept his dreads short and spiky, had told me long dreadlocks took years to grow.
    Yemaya strode past the technology lab. The imitation leather had frayed on her boots and the heels had worn down to bare wood. A water stain showed above a gap where the sole had pulled away from the rest of the boot. Black leggings peeped out from under her long gray skirt. Her thin jacket, layered over two scoop-necked tops — one mocha, the other charcoal — appeared way too lightweight for even a California winter. I mentally added thrift shops to her list of hangouts.
    Yemaya swept past the donor sign and opened the door to the Walnut Room. The oval walnut table my parents had hand-chosen filled the small meeting room. It seated six. The dragon nudged my upper back, propelling me toward the power seat at the far end. Yemaya pulled back the chair on my left and placed the tote on the table in front of her. Aidan and Salem took the seats across from Yemaya. Evie closed the door, then hesitated. I could tell by the way her gaze jumped from the tote to the remaining seats that she was tempted to put as much distance between the black bag and herself as possible. But she surprised me and took the chair next to Yemaya. As Evie pulled back the leather seat, I noticed she rolled the chair away from the tote before she sat down.
    Aidan said, "Yemaya, meet Ainslie, Evie, and my girlfriend Salem. Ladies—" he gestured across the table, "—this is Yemaya."
    "Welcome," Evie said.
    "Thanks for letting us kidnap you," Salem said.
    "No problem. It happens all the time." Yemaya swiveled in the chair and gawked at the space above my head. The dragon placed a warning talon on my shoulder. "I'm surprised we haven't met before."
    My mind churned. I was pretty certain Yemaya and I occupied opposite ends of the socio-economic scale. We didn't even attend the same high school. Why was she surprised we hadn't met before?
    Her gaze dropped to my face. I'm not sure what she read in my eyes. Her mouth opened slightly and her expression softened from listen-here-Miss-Moneybags to we-have-more-in-common-than-you-think. I shifted in the leather seat.
    Yemaya's gaze swept the other faces in the room before hopscotching from the tote to the air above my head, then to my shoulder. The dragon removed its claw. Yemaya's lips edged upward into a smirk. "So, which one of