Read Online The Only Thing Worse Than Witches by Lauren Magaziner - Free Book Online

Witches Council and the basement was no longer flooded with tears, Rupert felt better about his new job and his new friend.
    For the past few days, they had spent each day after school preparing Rupert’s basement to be Witchling Two’s new lair. In the dead of night, Witchling Two had trudged back to her old lair and dragged her state-of-the-art copper cauldron and a few jars of unusual ingredients to Rupert’s house. Rupert had felt guilty that she had to do it alone, but her lair was still human booby-trapped.
    Besides, Witchling Two was really sneaky about getting her items out of her lair and into Rupert’s house. She did it while the Witches Council was in session, and then she hid in a tree until Rupert’s mother had left for work. After Rupert’s mother was gone, Rupert had no qualms about helping Witchling Two lug her stuff inside.
    He made Witchling Two set up her lair in the back corner of the room, so that his mother couldn’t immediately see it from the top of the steps. Plus, he didn’t think his mother had been in the basement for years. The thick cobwebs were proof of that. With her three jobs, she was just too busy to do anything except collapse when she got home from work.
    Rupert had put Witchling Two’s ingredients on bookshelves covered with old drapes full of mothballs, and he hid the cauldron underneath a tarpaulin. Then, they devised a sneaking system, so that Witchling Two could get in and out of her lair without being caught. This involved Rupert unlatching the basement window, which was just large enough for Witchling Two.
    The system was working great so far, and Rupert’s mom didn’t suspect a thing. Everything was working perfectly — except for Witchling Two’s magic. With all the hustle and bustle of getting her lair organized, unfortunately, they didn’t have any time to practice. She only had three weeks left until her Bar Exam, and she was just as terrible as ever.
    Witchling Two chattered constantly about the potions they would brew and the spells they would cast, but much to Rupert’s disappointment, he and Witchling Two still hadn’t actually practiced any magic. Witchling Two claimed they needed some more fresh ingredients for her potions, but Rupert had the sneaking suspicion that she was trying to avoid practicing the subjects she didn’t like.
    On Saturday, Rupert dragged Witchling Two to the grocery store to get the ingredients she needed.
    â€œWhat do we need to buy?” Rupert asked Witchling Two as she skipped around the fresh produce.
    Witchling Two paused and thought. “We need some rhubarb, parsley, chicken bones, and lollipops.”
    Rupert stopped walking. “Lollipops?” he said. “For the potions?”
    â€œWell, sure . . . if we need some loll or pop in a potion we could always just put one in.”
    Rupert was not convinced. “So, the lollipops aren’t for the potions, then.”
    Witchling Two smacked her lips. Rupert thought he detected a bit of drool at the corner of her mouth.
    â€œYou are an addict,” he said, “and you have a problem.”
    Witchling Two grinned and kept skipping.
    â€œWhen are we going to get back to practicing your magic?” Rupert asked. “Don’t you need to pass your Bar Exam?”
    The witchling turned a sickly shade of gray. “Well, strictly speaking, technically, theoretically, notionally, supposedly, hypothetically, in principle, maybe, perhaps, possibly, yes,” she stammered.
    â€œWhat happens if you don’t pass your Bar Exam?”
    Witchling Two stopped in front of the cauliflower, her eyes wide and terrified. “Expulsion,” she whispered. “Exile. Shame. They strip me of my powers, and then I’m forced to leave my family and wander nomadically, never to return home again.”
    â€œAnd I thought being grounded was bad.”
    â€œNot passing the Bar Exam is the worst