by Lexi Connor
“By taking away their magic?” B said. “You’re the head of health! You’re not supposed to give people a terrible disease!”
By now the mayor was wringing his spotted red handkerchief between his hands. “I never meant to hurt anyone, I swear,” he said. “The potion was only meant to give witches purple spots. Then people would stop eating the chocolate. I never, never wanted to make people so sick that they lost their powers.”
“You could have ruined our business,” Mr. Cicely said. “We employ hundreds of witches here at Enchanted Chocolates.”
Mayor Cumblerland sniffed. “Why don’t you start selling dehydrated turnip crisps? They’re really quite delicious, once you get used to them.”
Mr. Bishop stifled a laugh. Madame Mel whispered to her Dismantle Squad, and they silently transported elsewhere.
“Did you put the same potion in the chocolate today, Wallace?” Madame Mel said.
“Heavens no!” The mayor wiped his sweating face with the handkerchief. “I made a potion to reverse the effects of the first one. I hope. That’s what I put in today’s chocolate.”
“As if any sickened witches would eat Fabulous Fruits now,” B muttered.
“An excellent point,” Madame Mel said. “Wallace, tell me what you put in these potions. Then we can finally get to the bottom of this mess.”
She and the mayor conferred for a few minutes, during which time George, who had climbed back out of the chocolate, did a miniature victory dance.
“It’s all settled,” Madame Mel announced. “Wallace has explained to me the ingredients he used in his first potion. I’ll be able to brew an antidote and get the witches who were sickened by the first potion back up on their feet.”
Mayor Cumberland gave a weak smile to everyone in the room.
“And,” Madame Mel went on, “Wallace agrees that his mayoral duties get in the way of his post as head of health. He’ll be taking an immediate retirement from his M.R.S. position.”
It was all B could do not to cheer.
Chapter 18
Mayor Cumberland transported himself off in disgrace, with no further mention of the many important meetings he’d missed, and everyone left in the room sighed with relief.
“I never voted for him, I’ll have you know,” B’s dad said. “Two vats of chocolate wasted! Who does he think he is, poisoning my chocolate? Twice!”
“It’s all behind you now,” Madame Mel said. “Thank goodness.”
“It wouldn’t be if it weren’t for B,” Mr. Cicely said, ruffling B’s hair. “Excellent work!”
Madame Mel turned to Mr. Bishop. “It seems I owe you an apology.”
Mr. Bishop laughed. “Think nothing of it.”
Finally B got the confidence to ask about something she’d been dying to know. “What did you do, Mr. Bishop, to make Madame Mel suspect you?”
Her magical tutor’s dark eyes twinkled. “When I was about your age, B, Madame Mel was my tutor. A much stricter one than I am to you, I daresay. One week, she told me I was going to have a quiz on Friday. The week came and went, and I didn’t study like I should, but I had learned how to make a tummy ache potion. So I slipped it to Madame Mel in a piece of her favorite chocolate, to get out of the quiz.”
“His potion was so potent, I was on the couch for a week,” Madame Mel said. “Needless to say, I still failed him on that quiz.”
Mr. Bishop seemed to be struggling to keep a straight face. “It was very wrong, what I did, B,” he said, “and I wouldn’t want you getting any ideas.” He patted his belly protectively.
“I wouldn’t poison you!” B said with a grin. “Just who do you think I am?”
“A very clever young witch, who has just gotten me out of a spot of trouble,” Mr. Bishop replied. “Thanks, B, for believing in me.”
“I’m sorry that I didn’t,” Madame Mel said. “Forgive me for suspecting you, Doug.”
He held up a hand. “Say no more.”
“I insist you let me buy you a hot chocolate, to make it up to you,” Madame Mel said. “I know a wonderful new place that’s just opened up.” And, arm in arm, the former student and his former teacher transported elsewhere.
B’s dad watched them leave. His toes started tapping, his fingers twitching. “There’s so much to do!” he cried. “We’re going to relaunch Fabulous Fruits, bigger and better than before. I think I’ve found a better fruit supplier than Jameson’s company. We’re going to do a big splashy nationwide ad campaign — oh! Trina! I forgot to tell you. I’ve worked out a promotional deal with your manager. It’s all set. You’re going to sing the jingle on national TV!”
Trina grinned. “Fabulicious,” she said. “I can’t wait.”
B’s dad snapped his fingers. “And George. B, I’m sorry George couldn’t be here, but you can see why that was necessary. But give him this for me, will you?” He pulled a package out of his pocket and handed it to B.
“What’s in here?” she asked.
“Samples, from the testing kitchens, of the new candy bar he suggested,” B’s dad said. “The one with the cracker and the peanut brittle? I want him to be the first to try it. I think it’s a winner. And I’m thinking we should break from our usual naming convention and call it the George Bar. What do you think?”
“I think George will be thrilled,” B said, as loudly as she could, so that George’s mouse-size whoops of joy wouldn’t be audible.
A chime sounded from inside B’s dad’s pockets. It was his Crystal Ballphone ringing.
“Excuse me, ladies,” he said, “but I need to take this. So much to do!” And he took off down the hall, leaving B and Trina alone in the Fabulous Fruits room.
“Hey! What about me!” said a tiny voice.
They scooped a very chocolaty George out of the mixing vat and set him on a paper towel.
“Bravo, George,” B said. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”
“I wouldn’t have been here at all, much less seen what happened, if you hadn’t agreed to shrink me,” George said.
“It took all three of us to crack this case,” B said. “We make a great team.”
“Absolutely,” Trina said.
George said, “No question.”
“Ready, George, to be your old size again?” B asked.
“I guess so,” he said, “though being mouse-size has its advantages.”
“In that case, you’re too small to sample the George Bar,” Trina teased.
“Make me big this minute!” George squeaked.
“R-E-T-U-R-N,” B spelled, laughing, and George resumed his normal size. But he was still covered head to foot in creamy, if tainted, milk chocolate.
“I’ve got an idea for a new Enchanted Chocolates candy,” B said. “Chocolate-covered George!”
Preview
B’s charmed adventures continue in
B Magical #6: The Superstar Sister
A loud drumbeat rattled through the kitchen ceiling, shaking the hanging lamps. B recognized the intro to “Swagger,” a recent single from the Black Cats, her favorite band.
B pointed at the ceiling. “What’s up?”
“It’s your sister,” her mom said. “She’s been in her room ever since she got home from school, practicing her act for the school talent show. Have you done any practicing for your performance in the Young Witch Competition?”
B’s spirits drooped. “I haven’t gotten far. I can’t make up my mind about what to do, or wear, or anything.”
“Oh, there are so many possibilities,” B’s mom began. “I have an issue of Spellbound Monthly somewhere that had the cutest pictures for costumes… .”
A magazine full of adorable, complicated costumes was the last thing B wanted. “Mr. Bishop says he’ll help me and Trina prepare.”
“He can really help you out,” B’s mom said.
“Help who out with what?” Mr. Cicely appeared in the doorway and set down his laptop bag.
“We were just discussing Friday’s Young
Witch Competition,” Mrs. Cicely said.
He sat down. “She’ll clobber everyone else. It runs in the family.”
“Now, Felix,” B’s mom said. “B isn’t going to ‘clobber’ anyone. So as long as she works hard and does her best, she’ll have nothing to fear.”
Upstairs Dawn’s fancy footwork thumped. “Do your best” scarcely seemed like enough when your older sister was overloaded with both talent and magical skill.
“Dawn, come for dinner,” B’s mom called up the stairs. “Dawn! Dawn! Oh, never mind. There’s no stopping her practicing.”
B swallowed a mouthful of dinner. Her mom’s magical cooking was always delicious, but this time B couldn’t taste a thing. It was bad enough having to demonstrate her magical skills to an audience and panel of judges. That was enough stage fright to render her clumsy and speechless for a week. But living up to Dawn was impossible, plain and simple.
“Why the long face, B?” her dad said.
“Oh, nothing,” B said. “Pass the nachos, please.”
Special thanks to Julie Berry
Other Books in the B Magical Series
B Magical #1: The Missing Magic
B Magical #2: The Trouble with Secrets
B Magical #3: The Runaway Spell
B Magical #4: The Cat-Astrophe
Along with all the other visitors, B and George pressed closer, eager for a glimpse of the first candies to come out of the machine. No one spoke. Everyone seemed paused, poised on tiptoe for the unveiling of the first Fabulous Fruit.
There was a loud bang.
Like popping corn, one by one, the lights went out. The room was plunged into total darkness.
Copyright
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Working Partners Limited, Stanley House, St. Chad’s Place, London WC1X 9HH, United Kingdom.
Copyright © 2010 by Working Partners Ltd.
Cover art by Tuesday Mourning
Cover design by Yaffa Jaskoll
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc., 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012. SCHOLASTIC, APPLE PAPERBACKS, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
First printing, October 2010
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e-ISBN 978-0-545-32233-1
