The Book of Spells (Private 0.50)

Just like that, every one of the girls was on her feet, gathering around Theresa for a better look at the book of spells.

“Here’s one for reviving a dying plant!” Lavender exclaimed.

“This one polishes silver,” Jane said, spinning the silver bracelet on her wrist.

“Is there anything about getting rid of freckles?” Genevieve asked, leaning so close from behind that she almost folded Theresa in half.

“I have always dreamt of having raven hair,” Marilyn said, gazing into space.

Viola reached out to touch Marilyn’s blond locks. “But your hair works so well with your coloring.”

“Vraiment? I do not think so,” Marilyn said, touching her hair as well.

“Why not just dye it?” Jane suggested.

Marilyn shook her head. “Oh, no, no, no. That would be far too gauche.” She looked at Theresa. “Is there anything for changing hair the way you changed her dress?” she said, gesturing at Alice.

“Patience, patience,” Theresa said, clearly enjoying her place at the center of attention. “We’ll get to everything in time.” She looked over at Eliza and Catherine and smiled giddily.

“This is unbelievable,” Eliza said to Catherine in awe. “We’re witches.”

“Yes,” Catherine said. “We certainly are.”

Etiquette

“Now, girls, in your role as ladies of society, you will rarely be serving tea yourselves, but you must know the proper technique so that you may instruct and correct your servants if need be.”

It was a stiflingly warm Tuesday afternoon as Miss Almay strolled around the parlor, which had been set with four round tables, each seating four girls. Gathered at the table nearest the door were Theresa, Eliza, Alice, and Catherine. Lavender, Marilyn, Jane, and Viola hovered around them. For the moment the latter girls were the servers, while the former were the guests. Marilyn had set Petit Peu on a small pillow near the door, where he was now curled up and snoring quite loudly. Helen stood in the corner, watching the girls’ every move.

“Always serve the tea from behind on the left side,” Miss Almay instructed, gesturing with her folded bifocals. Petit Peu let out a snort, and she cast a disapproving look in his direction. “The vast majority of people are right-handed, and you do not wish to accidentally bump someone’s arm with the tea kettle as you serve.”

Theresa waited until Miss Almay’s back was turned, then nudged Eliza with her elbow. She trained her eyes on Eliza’s salad fork and narrowed them into slits. “Levitas.”

Eliza’s heart nearly stopped as the fork twitched, then lifted from the lace tablecloth, floating three inches off the surface of the table. Her eyes widened and she glanced over at Alice, who lifted her lace-gloved hand to her chest.

“Fantastic,” Eliza whispered to Theresa, her pulse racing with the intoxicating mixture of wonder and fear. It wasn’t every day that she saw tableware floating about as if suspended by invisible puppet strings.

Theresa smirked. She lifted one finger and twirled it slowly in the air. Instantly, the fork began to spin lazily as well.

“You’ve been practicing, Theresa,” Catherine whispered proudly.

“I’ve always been a quick study,” Theresa said with an immodest grin. “I think we should try some of the potions next. I’ve already gotten Jane, Viola, and Bia to start collecting some of the ingredients we’ll need from the herb garden.”

“What? Without talking to us about it first?” Eliza whispered.

Theresa rolled her eyes. “I’m talking to you about it now.”

“I think it’s a fine idea,” Catherine said happily.

“I want to try,” Alice whispered. She looked down at her own silverware. “Levitas!”

Her spoon jumped off the table, then slammed right down again. Luckily, Petit Peu barked in his sleep at the same moment, so the noise was muffled. Miss Almay paused in her circuit of the room, her back to Eliza’s table, and then kept walking.

Alice leaned back in her chair and pouted. “It didn’t work,” she said, jutting out her bottom lip and glaring at the offending spoon.

“It’s just like I told Viola, Alice. You have to concentrate,” Catherine advised, laying a comforting hand on her wrist. “Try again.”

Alice took a breath, leaned forward again, and narrowed her eyes just as Theresa had.