Under a Spell

by Amanda Ashby

  “Oh, right. Was that inappropriate?” he said, and Sophie nodded her head.

  “A little bit,” Kara told him in a kindhearted voice before turning back to Sophie, concern still covering her face. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  “Of course I am.” Sophie grinned. “And it just goes to prove how amazing the Universe is. I mean, I had a problem, and after doing some positive thinking, the most perfect solution suddenly landed in my lap. It would be wrong if I didn’t follow it through.” Then, without another word, she jogged over to the sign-up sheets and scribbled her name down. Had she mentioned that this was the best idea ever?

  7

  LATER THAT AFTERNOON SOPHIE REALIZED THAT there was one small kink in her perfect plan. Her bedroom. Not that there was anything wrong with her bedroom, apart from the fact that it wasn’t designed to practice cheerleading routines in. Actually, it was a wonder she had never noticed before just how small it was. There was no way she could even attempt to do a high kick, let alone a magically induced backflip.

  Of course, if Malik had been there, she could have asked him if there was a way around the problem, but he had stepped outside an hour ago to take a cell-phone call and she hadn’t seen him since. No points for guessing that he and Eric the Giant were currently watching a production of The Wizard of Oz somewhere. Which meant she was going to have to figure this one out on her own.

  She chewed her lip and was just trying to decide what to do when there was a knock on her door. A moment later her mom appeared.

  “I just wanted to see how the history assignment’s going,” her mom said. As usual she was wearing one of Sophie’s dad’s old shirts, her straight blonde hair was tied up in a messy knot, and there was a smudge of clay on her nose.

  “All done.” Sophie held up the assignment that she’d zapped up earlier. Three weeks ago her mom would’ve just believed her, but thanks to a few ups and downs after her djinn magic had first come through, these days her mom wanted cold, hard evidence. If only her space problem was so easily solved. Then she realized her mom was still looking at her, and Sophie felt a stab of panic. “I-is everything okay?”

  “Yes, everything’s fine. Well, apart from the leak in my studio. I discovered it this morning and have spent most of the day moving my stock down into the basement in case it rains. Unfortunately, the basement’s now full, so I was hoping you could move some of the old boxes of junk up to the garage for the thrift store to collect. I’m already so far behind on this order, and I really need to get it glazed this afternoon.”

  Sophie was about to make some excuse, since moving boxes from the basement was her least favorite job ever (not because she was trying to be unhelpful, but because for some reason known only to bug experts, there were about a zillion spiders in her basement, and not one of them was nice and friendly like Charlotte). However, she suddenly realized that despite its spider problem, the basement was actually the perfect place to do some magical cheerleading. And if she used her powers to move the boxes, she would have plenty of time to practice. Plus, after all the chaos Malik had been causing around the house lately, the very least Sophie could do was help out.

  “Of course,” she said as she followed her mom downstairs, while trying to ignore the fact that Meg was lounging around in front of the television, not even pretending that she was going to help.

  The basement was just as dark and musty as Sophie remembered, but her mom didn’t seem to notice as she led Sophie over to a huge pile of boxes that was sitting in the middle of the floor. Sophie flipped the lid on the first box and was greeted by a bag of marbles and Meg’s old Barbie dolls, which all had bite marks on the legs. Then she caught sight of a hideous green sweater that she vaguely remembered loving when she was five years old. She turned to her mom.

  “I didn’t know we still had all of this stuff.”

  “I guess I should’ve sorted through everything sooner, but the idea of throwing away memories all seemed too difficult,” her mom said as she opened up another box and held up a pair of flared jeans that looked like they’d walked straight out of the seventies.

  “Really?” Sophie raised an eyebrow as she pulled out a long white T-shirt, which had a picture of a lion on the front of it. “It doesn’t seem like it would be too hard.”

  “Hey, cheeky child, I will have you know that this was considered to be the height of fashion at the time,” her mom protested as she studied the T-shirt for a moment before ruefully putting it back in the box and shutting the lid. “But it wasn’t until I needed more space that I realized just how much junk we have down here. Besides, memories don’t exist in clothes and possessions, they exist in our minds. So, will you be okay to carry the boxes up to the garage?”

  “Of course,” Sophie readily agreed, since she knew she had magic on her side.

  She waited until her mom disappeared back upstairs before she turned her attention to the boxes. There were at least fifteen of them, and she closed her eyes and wished for all of them to move to the garage. A second later she felt a tingle go racing through her, and when she opened her eyes, the boxes were gone. Now she just had to check that they had actually turned up where they were meant to.

  A couple of minutes later she was standing in the garage, grinning. Not bad for a few seconds of work. She couldn’t help but think how great it would be if the Djinn Council wanted to test her box-moving skills. Still, she was sure that by the end of the afternoon she would be just as good at transcendental conjuring, and with that thought, she made her way back down to the basement and got to work.

  An hour later Sophie stared at herself in the large mirror she had magically conjured up. Her transformation was amazing. She’d probably been eight years old the last time she’d attempted to do a high kick, and the result had been a bruised butt and some major embarrassment. But now all she had to do was visualize it in her mind and then her legs seemed to take on a life of their own. She held up her newly wished for pom-poms and decided to have one last practice.

  “Gimme an M,” she mouthed, before picturing herself doing a backflip. A second later her body leaned back and her spine formed a perfect arch before her legs kicked off the ground and came down on the other side of her head like she’d been doing it for years. Amazing! However, before she could attempt it again she heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.

  Sophie quickly wished for the large mirror and the pom-poms to disappear, just as her mom walked in. It was obvious by the smile on her face that she’d already seen the large pile of boxes and junk that Sophie had magically transported from the basement to the garage.

  “I’m impressed. I didn’t expect you would get so much done today,” her mom said before she walked over to a second pile of things. “Perhaps we can start on this lot tomorrow.”

  “Sure,” Sophie said as she started to head toward the stairs. But before she got there her mom coughed.

  “By the way, is there something you want to tell me?”

  Sophie froze as she realized perhaps she hadn’t managed to get away with using so much magic after all. “W-what do you mean?” she asked in a cautious voice as it suddenly occurred to her that perhaps Meg had been in the garage and had seen the boxes appearing from nowhere.

  “How about a certain daughter who put her name down for the cheerleading tryouts tomorrow?”

  “Oh.” Sophie gulped. “Did I forget to mention that?”

  “Yes, you did.” Her mom gave a dry cough as she studied Sophie’s face. “The school just rang to make sure that you bring along your permission slip. So how long have you been interested in cheerleading?”

  “Well, you know, I’ve always found it fascinating.” Sophie tried to make her voice sound casual.

  “Really?” Her mom raised an eyebrow. “And this new interest wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that Jonathan is captain of the basketball team, would it? Because, honey, you really shouldn’t try to do anything special just to impress a boy.”

 
; Please. If she was going to do anything to impress Jonathan Tait, it would be along the lines of remembering all of the Neanderthal Joe tour dates for the last year, rather than trying to get onto a cheerleading team. “Okay, I’m doing it to try to become friends with Jonathan’s sister, Melissa. The thing is, she hates me.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true.”

  “Actually, it is,” Sophie assured her. “She told me so herself. Have you ever had anyone hate you before?”

  “Well, there was this time when my two daughters were pretty annoyed at me,” her mom said in a serious voice before her brown eyes started to twinkle. “Something about not wanting me to sell the family house…”

  “Ha-ha-ha, very funny. You know we didn’t hate you. We just hated the idea of moving. Especially to Montana,” she said, before pausing and peering back up at her mom. “So have you? Ever had someone hate you, I mean?”

  Her mom chewed her lip for a moment and sat on the edge of an old suitcase. “Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe they have and they just didn’t mention it? But as someone who has done her fair share of hating, I can tell you that it’s a pretty negative emotion.”

  “What? No way.” Sophie gave a resolute shake of her head. “You won’t even kill spiders. Not even the big ugly ones, and if you can’t hate them, I refuse to believe that you could hate an actual person.”

  “I’m afraid it’s true.” Her mom gave her an embarrassed smile. “There was a time after your father left when I was sure I hated him. I still loved him, of course, but I was pretty angry, too. Actually, I was a lot angry.”

  “Oh.” Sophie felt her heart ache since her mom didn’t often talk about this kind of stuff.

  “But the thing is,” her mom continued, as she started to examine the hem of her shirt, “even though it took a while, I finally realized that I had to let go of the hate because it was eating me up. So I really don’t think that you need to join the cheerleading squad just to get Melissa to like you. Why don’t you just talk to her? Because I bet you’ll find that if you push past the surface, deep down Melissa’s actually just insecure and unhappy. I know I was.”

  Yes, and while that sounded good in theory, Sophie was pretty sure that if she pushed past the surface of Melissa Tait’s evil exterior, all she would find would be more evil, probably wrapped up in some mega-trendy sweater that came from a store that Sophie had never even heard of. But before Sophie could say anything else, Meg stomped down the basement stairs holding the cordless phone, looking grumpy. She said there was a man called Alex on the phone.

  “Alex is the builder, calling with a quote for the studio.” Their mom immediately took the phone and shot Sophie a hopeful look. “Oh, there’re a couple more boxes over there I forgot to ask you about. Would you mind moving them up to the garage, too?”

  “Sure.” Sophie nodded. Once her mom had disappeared back up the stairs, she headed toward the extra boxes. She was just about to magically wish them into the garage before she remembered that Meg was still standing there looking sulky. Instead, Sophie reluctantly picked up the first box. It weighed a ton, and she quickly wished for it to be light as a feather. Then she realized that Meg was still just standing there. “Er, I think you can help as well, thanks.”

  “Not likely. I’m not a traitor.” Meg folded her arms and poked her bottom lip out.

  “Since when am I a traitor for helping Mom?” Sophie demanded. “In fact, if anyone’s a traitor, you are, since you’ve been having major tantrums. I thought we were trying to help her not stress out.”

  “Yeah, well, if you want to help Mom throw away Dad’s boxes, then that’s fine by me,” Meg retorted before narrowing her eyes. “Traitor.”

  “What?” Sophie immediately dropped the box she had been holding. There was the sound of something breaking, but she ignored it as she turned to her sister. “Of course I’m not helping her throw out Dad’s boxes.”

  However, Meg’s mouth remained in a stubborn line, and Sophie suddenly felt a stab of panic go racing through her. She hadn’t actually checked all the boxes her mom had told her to move. Instead, she had just magically zapped them up into the garage. Plus, despite the fact Meg was only six years old, she had an uncanny knack of always knowing what was going on. Sophie raced over to where her dad’s boxes were kept. Relief flooded through her as she did a quick count. It looked like they were all there.

  From time to time Sophie actually braved the spiders and came down to look at the cartons, hoping they might give her some answers about why he had left. Unfortunately, they never did, but she still couldn’t bear the idea of their not being there. Several of them were filled with his clothes, apart from the ones her mom pilfered for her pottery smocks, but Sophie’s favorite ones were the boxes with his cooking things. He had been a great cook, and not only did he have a huge collection of recipe books but there was also box after box filled with stainless steel bowls and packets of herbs that neither Sophie nor her mom had a clue what to do with.

  Sophie turned back to Meg. “See. I told you I didn’t move them. Why would you even think that?”

  “Because when Jessica Dalton—who I hate more than anything—was looking for me before, I went and hid in Mom’s studio. That’s when I heard her on the telephone telling someone that she needed to make more room in the basement for her pottery. She said that she was going to get rid of some old stuff because it was time to move on.”

  “Yes, well, that just proves no good ever comes from eavesdropping, because the only things that Mom wanted me to move were some boxes of old clothes and toys,” Sophie retorted, as she put her hands on Meg’s shoulders and steered her back to the stairs. “And speaking of which, Mom would flip out if she knew that you had been eavesdropping on her.”

  However, instead of looking contrite, Meg just wriggled out of Sophie’s grip and stomped through the kitchen and back to her room. Sophie’s mom, who was no longer on the phone, widened her eyes in surprise.

  “What was that about?”

  Sophie just shook her head; despite her threat, she wouldn’t really tell on her sister. “You don’t want to know, but trust me, the sooner Meg makes up with Jessica Dalton, the better.”

  “Tell me about it,” her mom agreed. “She’s been like a bear with a sore head. Oh, and by the way, Kara rang while I was on the phone. I said you’d call her back.”

  Sophie immediately forgot about her moody little sister as she grabbed the phone and disappeared into the privacy of her room to tell Kara how her training session had gone.

  The next morning Sophie was brimming with happiness. She’d done a bit more transcendental conjuring last night in her room and had successfully managed to make Mr. Pugsy not just fly but also do backflips and twirls. Plus, she’d had a really great IM chat with Jonathan Tait, during which they’d reenacted the entire Neanderthal Joe concert, complete with a play-by-play of Eddie Henry giving her the guitar pick. The only slight worry was that Malik hadn’t reappeared yet, but she was sure he’d be back soon.

  She made her way down to the kitchen, where Meg was sitting at the table staring at a bowl of oatmeal, her arms firmly crossed in front of her.

  “You haven’t even touched it,” her mom was saying.

  “That’s because it’s gray and sludgy,” Meg retorted as she unfolded her arms and pushed the bowl away. “Jessica Dalton’s mom never makes her eat gray, sludgy stuff.”

  “Yes, and Mrs. Dalton never makes you eat it either,” their mom pointed out in a serene voice. “But since Jessica asked you over for breakfast this morning and you wouldn’t even answer her, you’re stuck with my oatmeal.”

  “I didn’t answer her because I’m never speaking to her again,” Meg clarified in a menacing voice. “I hate Jessica Dalton, and—”

  “And I really need to get to school,” Sophie interrupted, since she didn’t want a repeat of Meg’s grumpy mood. She hurried over and gave her mom a kiss on the cheek. “So I will see you both later.”

  “Hey, not so fas
t.” Her mom put down the pot of oatmeal (which Sophie had thankfully managed to avoid by going down earlier and making herself some toast) and turned to Sophie with a concerned expression on her face. “Before you go, I do have another favor to ask.”

  At the mention of that Meg stiffened, and even Sophie caught her breath for half a moment in case there had been something to what Meg had said. “It’s not more box moving, is it?”

  “No,” her mom assured her, but before Sophie could give Meg a “told you so” look, Malik suddenly appeared in the kitchen. Today he was wearing an I’M WICKED T-shirt, pink sunglasses, and a gold medallion around his neck. No guesses for where he had been all this time. Sophie winced before realizing her mom was still looking at her.

  “Er, so what is the favor then?”

  “I was hoping you could look after Meg this afternoon. Max Rivers wants me to go and see him. He’s thinking of selling some of my pottery in the store. Isn’t that fantastic?”

  “What?” Sophie yelped. She wasn’t a fan of babysitting Meg at the best of times, let alone while she was so grumpy. Not to mention the fact that she wanted to get Malik out of the kitchen as quickly as she could. “The thing is—” she started to explain, but before she could finish Malik suddenly cut her off.

  “Max? Huh, so why do I know that name?” The djinn toyed with his gold medallion for a moment before widening his eyes. “Hey, isn’t he the guy who had the bottle I was trapped in? Because, while I know he had nothing to do with my binding, I can’t help but think he’s not a nice guy. You should tell your mom not to have anything to do with him.”

  Sophie, who was used to Malik’s talking, despite the fact that her mom and Meg couldn’t see him, just ignored what he was saying. But Mr. Jaws started to hiss from over by the window seat.

  “Actually,” Malik continued to muse as he floated over to where the cordless telephone was kept, “I think I should take his number out of your mom’s book so that she won’t be tempted to call him. Kind of like an intervention.”