Then she noticed the auburn-haired girl holding something at her side, pressed into the velvety folds of her dress. Iris’s pulse began to go bonkers again. Not with panic this time, but with excitement.
No. Way.
The girl pivoted slightly to whisper something to the two others. Now Iris could see the object more clearly.
It was just a fountain pen.
“Sorry ’bout that.” Colter tucked his phone away and smiled at Iris. “I can take you to Room 125 now.”
“Thanks!”
They continued walking. I am peaceful, Iris thought. I am confident.
She touched the back of her neck, wondering.
2 FLUFFY BUNNY
A lone witch has powers. A coven has a multitude more.
(FROM THE GOOD BOOK OF MAGIC AND MENTALISM BY CALLIXTA CROWE)
“So is she one of us?” Ridley asked Greta in a low voice as they emerged from the library doorway.
“I’m not sure. I couldn’t get any information from the… you know.” Divining spell, Greta finished silently.
She tucked Flora into her vegan leather backpack. To the world, Flora looked like an antique fountain pen; Greta had enchanted it to appear that way. She undid the enchantment only if she happened to be using the wand alone or with her two coven-mates somewhere safe.
“She’s probably just a Witchworld newb. You can tell from the twitchy fingers and the dark purple eye shadow. All the Level One gamers wear it,” Binx declared. “Or she might be a fluffy bunny.”
Ridley frowned. “A fluffy what?”
“Fluffy bunnies are kind of like faux-witches,” Greta explained.
“So they want to be members—excuse me, faux members—of an oppressed minority? Like, that’s their goal in life?” Ridley said skeptically.
“Well…”
Ridley had a point. Besides, Greta could swear the girl had mouthed the word cessabit—one of Callixta’s simple calming spells—while touching the moonstone pendant around her neck. That was a super-witchy move. Ridley and Binx had witnessed it, too.
Footsteps. The librarian, Mr. Kasich, suddenly appeared from around the corner, swinging a faded brown messenger bag.
“Good morning, girls! I trust your summer vacations were enjoyable? Can I help you find some books?” he called out.
“No, thanks, Mr. Kasich! Maybe later,” Greta replied with a wave.
She hooked arms with Ridley and Binx and speed-walked them down the hall.
The three of them ducked into the alcove with the trophy displays, and Greta cast a calumnia spell. (She’d perfected it to the point where she could just think the word, and it would manifest 99 percent of the time.) Calumnia could scramble their private conversation so that anyone listening would think they were discussing makeup or the weather or froyo flavors or something equally banal and boring. It reversed automatically if a non-witch entered the conversation. (Not for the first time, Greta felt huge gratitude for Callixta’s book; before its existence, her skills had been so limited.)
“Okay, we’re in calumnia mode. So there hasn’t been a new witch at our school since forever—that we know of, anyway. It’s just our coven and Div’s coven,” Greta mused out loud. “If this girl is a witch, maybe we could invite her to join us? She might be looking for a community. And it would be nice for us to have a new member.”
“Really? I think we’re fine with just the three of us.” Binx studied her nails, which had been painted to look like red, white, and black Pokéballs. “Well, maybe fine is an overstatement. But you know what I mean.”
“I don’t know. When I moved here, it was really wonderful for me to meet you guys and have this coven. I never knew any other witches besides my aunt Viola,” Ridley admitted. “And besides, the more witches the better, right? According to Callixta, any group spell gets more powerful with each added witch.”
Binx’s face lit up. “Ooooh, excellent point! If we could snag a fourth member, we’d have more power than the Triad. I’ll do some research on the new girl ASAP!”
“This isn’t a power grab,” Greta told Binx. “I was just thinking that the new girl might like being part of our coven. If she’s a witch.” She sniffed and added, “Plus, our kind of craft is so much better than theirs. Their way is toxic and negative. Curses and poisons and—”
“Ummm… I think that makes what you’re doing a power grab, then,” Binx interrupted. “Good Witches, four, Bad Witches, three. The Good Witches win!” She pumped her fist in the air.
“Ha ha,” Greta said with an eye roll, even though Binx was kind of right. But kind of not right, because wasn’t it the job of a coven leader to welcome new members? And keep the flame of Callixta’s legacy alive? Callixta’s magic was about love and light, not darkness and control (which were Div’s and Mira’s and Aysha’s things). “I’m serious. The world doesn’t need another Div clone. So, yes, okay, could you do some research on the new girl? Find out who she is, where she’s from, if she might be one of us? We should figure all this out before Div gets wind of her existence.”
Ridley glanced at her watch. “Guys, can we continue this conversation later? We need to get to homeroom. I’ve heard that Ms. Nasser loves to give detentions for tardies.”
“Fun fact—the detention room has excellent Wi-Fi,” Binx said. “You can poach it from Sparklebutt’s office.” Principal Sparkleman had become Principal Sparklebutt last year after accidentally sitting in some art class glitter.
“I prefer my Wi-Fi without the detention. Ridley’s right; let’s talk about this later,” Greta suggested.
She adjusted her backpack on her shoulders and started toward the stairwell. Ridley followed at her heels. Binx followed, too, speaking into her phone, which had some sort of bright yellow Pokémon case today. Actually, she was speaking at her phone. Greta could just make out the words light and sesame.
A few seconds later, half a sesame bagel materialized in Binx’s other hand. Lightly toasted, with butter.
“Breakfast,”
