Read Online Scary Cool (The Spellspinners) by Diane Farr - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Diane Farr
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discuss.”
“She’ll be back,” said Lance. “We’d better show her the well.” He picked up the confusion in my mind and grinned. “More spellspinner slang,” he explained. “It’s what we call the safe spot—the place we keep clear for skatching .”
Brilliant. I should have realized that every spellspinner home would have the equivalent of Spellhaven’s skatching stones; a place deliberately kept clear at all times, so that one could skatch to it without fear of detection—or of knocking something, or someone, over. T heir “well” was in the hall, defined by a square, hooked rug, out of view of the windows and invisible to anyone visiting the front parlor. Just in case.
I skatched in a hurry. This is almost always a mistake. I knew this, but I was so focused on grabbing my bike and getting home that I didn’t think things through — and, without thinking, I skatched back to the spot behind the gym that we had used as our take-off point.
Of course, when Lance and I took off, we were able to look around first and make sure we were unseen. Returning, I was arriving blind.
I can’t believe I was so careless .
I arrived at the back of the gym and immediately heard a distant exclamation of some sort, and the sound of someone falling. I was standing against the stucco wall next to the ceme nt steps leading to the loc ker room door s. The steps blocked the view of me from most directions, but unfortunately I was in clear view of anyone who was, say, running around the track and facing just the right direction. So I materialized out of thin air—or so it would have seemed to the boy in shorts and tee-shirt who was, in fact, running around the track and facing just the right direction. And now he was sprawled on his stomach in the dirt, his face still upturned, staring open-mouthed at me.
And—just my luck—it was Alvin.
I froze in place for half a heartbeat. I had never, ever, been caught skatching before. Of course, I had only just learned how a couple of months ago.
And this, I realized with a sickening sense of despair, is the very reason why the other spellspinners think I am so freaking dangerous. A spellspinner who doesn’t know the ropes, who hasn’ t been prepped since childhood , is a spellspinner who shouldn’t be let loose among the general population. Because she will make mistakes. Like this.
It was already too late to skatch back to the well in Lance’s apartment and hope Alvin chalked the sight of me up to optical illusion, or dehydration, or whatever. He had seen me, good and proper. I smiled weakly.
“Hi,” I called. “Are you okay?”
He hadn’t moved. I trotted over to him and reached for his hand. He took it and let me help him up, but he didn’t seem hurt. He seemed… preoccupied. He replaced his glasses and stared intently at my face. H is gaze was quite penetrating. It made me uncomfortable. I looked away, nervously aware that my irises are, well, purple. It didn’t seem a good time to let him notice that.
“How did you do that?” he asked abruptly.
“Um,” I said. “Do what?”
“You just popped out of nowhere.”
“Um,” I said again. “ Oh.” Then, “ Is that what it looked like? ”
A smidgen of relief lightened his expression. I had opened the door to the possibility of illusion, and h e was now awaiting my explanation— a sentence or two from me that would make everything all right . Unf ortunately, I didn’t have a n explanation prepared and ready to go.
There was a knot of boys doing peculiar football-type exercises down the field from us, under the barking leadership of Coach Ayres. My arrival hadn’t been observed by th em because the stairs had blocked their view. But now they were lining up for some reason, and a couple of them at the back of the line had turned around and were staring curiously at us. I edged backward a step or two. “Look,” I said. “I’m sorry if I startled you, and I’m glad you’re not hurt, and, um, I
“She’ll be back,” said Lance. “We’d better show her the well.” He picked up the confusion in my mind and grinned. “More spellspinner slang,” he explained. “It’s what we call the safe spot—the place we keep clear for skatching .”
Brilliant. I should have realized that every spellspinner home would have the equivalent of Spellhaven’s skatching stones; a place deliberately kept clear at all times, so that one could skatch to it without fear of detection—or of knocking something, or someone, over. T heir “well” was in the hall, defined by a square, hooked rug, out of view of the windows and invisible to anyone visiting the front parlor. Just in case.
I skatched in a hurry. This is almost always a mistake. I knew this, but I was so focused on grabbing my bike and getting home that I didn’t think things through — and, without thinking, I skatched back to the spot behind the gym that we had used as our take-off point.
Of course, when Lance and I took off, we were able to look around first and make sure we were unseen. Returning, I was arriving blind.
I can’t believe I was so careless .
I arrived at the back of the gym and immediately heard a distant exclamation of some sort, and the sound of someone falling. I was standing against the stucco wall next to the ceme nt steps leading to the loc ker room door s. The steps blocked the view of me from most directions, but unfortunately I was in clear view of anyone who was, say, running around the track and facing just the right direction. So I materialized out of thin air—or so it would have seemed to the boy in shorts and tee-shirt who was, in fact, running around the track and facing just the right direction. And now he was sprawled on his stomach in the dirt, his face still upturned, staring open-mouthed at me.
And—just my luck—it was Alvin.
I froze in place for half a heartbeat. I had never, ever, been caught skatching before. Of course, I had only just learned how a couple of months ago.
And this, I realized with a sickening sense of despair, is the very reason why the other spellspinners think I am so freaking dangerous. A spellspinner who doesn’t know the ropes, who hasn’ t been prepped since childhood , is a spellspinner who shouldn’t be let loose among the general population. Because she will make mistakes. Like this.
It was already too late to skatch back to the well in Lance’s apartment and hope Alvin chalked the sight of me up to optical illusion, or dehydration, or whatever. He had seen me, good and proper. I smiled weakly.
“Hi,” I called. “Are you okay?”
He hadn’t moved. I trotted over to him and reached for his hand. He took it and let me help him up, but he didn’t seem hurt. He seemed… preoccupied. He replaced his glasses and stared intently at my face. H is gaze was quite penetrating. It made me uncomfortable. I looked away, nervously aware that my irises are, well, purple. It didn’t seem a good time to let him notice that.
“How did you do that?” he asked abruptly.
“Um,” I said. “Do what?”
“You just popped out of nowhere.”
“Um,” I said again. “ Oh.” Then, “ Is that what it looked like? ”
A smidgen of relief lightened his expression. I had opened the door to the possibility of illusion, and h e was now awaiting my explanation— a sentence or two from me that would make everything all right . Unf ortunately, I didn’t have a n explanation prepared and ready to go.
There was a knot of boys doing peculiar football-type exercises down the field from us, under the barking leadership of Coach Ayres. My arrival hadn’t been observed by th em because the stairs had blocked their view. But now they were lining up for some reason, and a couple of them at the back of the line had turned around and were staring curiously at us. I edged backward a step or two. “Look,” I said. “I’m sorry if I startled you, and I’m glad you’re not hurt, and, um, I
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