Free Missing Magic by Lexi Connor Page B

words. She needs no rhyming couplets to produce spells — they don’t even work for her. Her magic is powerfully focused, and unlike most young people’s spells, hers have staying power.”
    Some of the mothers in the room gasped as if this was horrifying news. B turned anxiously and saw the long, pointed face of Madame Mel give her a reassuring wink.
    “B,” Mr. Bishop said eagerly, and, B realized with surprise, a bit nervously, “would you give the society a demonstration?”
    The room grew silent. B felt the weight of all those eyes staring at her. She felt like a lump of clay on the table in art class, getting flattened by all the pressure.
    B stared down at her sneakers.
I can’t do it
, she thought.
I’ll mess up big time and … set all the books on fire or something. Make them all overdue.
    “Ahem.”
    Madame Mel was peering at her, a pointy silver boot toe tapping impatiently on the ground. “We’re ready,” Madame Mel said under her breath.
    Maybe B could think of herself and spell E-S-C-A-P-E?
    Suddenly, Dawn was climbing up the steps to where B stood. B couldn’t bear to face her, but then she felt Dawn slip her arm around her.
    “Don’t be scared, B,” Dawn said.
    B grinned, but her eyes grew wet.
    “I just want to be a normal witch,” she whispered to Dawn. “You know, a rhyming one.”
    Dawn gave her shoulder a little shake. “Why would you want to be boring old ‘normal'?” she said. “You’re special! You’ve got something no one else has.”
    B sniffled. “What?”
    “Me as a big sister.” Dawn flashed her movie-star smile. “Go get ’em, B,” she said. “Just start with something simple.”
    “Okay.” Having Dawn stand beside her gave her new courage. But still, all those bright lights, allthose big eyes staring at her … if only she could make them go away.
    “D-A-R-K-N-E-S-S,” she said.
    Instantly, blinds fell over all the windows, and one by one, the globe lightbulbs illuminating the room popped. The room went dark as falling shards of broken glass tinkled. Many witches in the crowd cried out in fear.
    Madame Mel’s voice cracked out like lightning.
    “Protect the kids, the gals and fellas,
    Give them all brand-new umbrellas!”
    And before the broken glass could land and hurt anyone, B felt a handle in her hand and heard the soft
plip, plip
of fragments landing on the umbrella cloth.
    Murmurs and whispers filled the darkness.
    B was terrified. Was she going to be in trouble? No way would her allowance cover the cost of so many lights.
    “Thank you, B,” Madame Mel’s voice said, with just enough of an edge that B wasn’t sure if she was mad or not. “Would you care to reverse the problem?”
    Dawn squeezed her arm reassuringly.
    “Okay,” B said, her voice faltering. “L-I-G-H-T.”
    Miniature suns flared into life, hovering in the air above the rainbow of umbrellas.
    A single clap rang out. Then another, and soon the entire assembly was applauding her boisterously. Someone shouted, “Bravo!” Everyone folded their umbrellas and put them away. B’s mom and dad beamed so warmly at her that B knew she wasn’t in trouble. Not at all.
    Mr. Bishop held out a sparkling silver chain. “May I see your hand, please?”
    B held out her hand, and Mr. Bishop fastened the bracelet around her wrist. “Your magical training has officially begun, B,” he said. “Your first spell as a newly inaugurated member of our society will be to create the charm that best represents your own special flavor of magic. Are you ready?”
    B admired the intricate chain. It was just like Dawn’s, but without the charms. “How will I know what to make?” she asked.
    “Don’t worry,” Dawn said. “Just let it be what it wants to be.”
    “Everyone, let’s give B a hand,” Mr. Bishop said, addressing the crowd. “On my signal, spell the word ‘charm’ along with B. Ready?”
    He nodded to B, and she opened her mouth.
    “C-H —” It was an amazing feeling, all that