was good at, but none of them seemed very magical. Lying. Stealing. Fighting. Screwing up. Pretending he knew what he was doing. Maybe if he pretended he was confident?
Bending reality takes a lot of work. When you’re doing magic, you can’t be thinking about lunch or a TV show or what might go wrong. You have to put your whole self — body, mind, and spirit — into doing it right. Spells focus your attention on what you’re doing so that the energy you raise will go where you want it. You need CONCENTRATION .
Nick flipped ahead. The book was called
E-Z Spelz
. There had to be some actual spells in here somewhere. Turning straw into gold might be useful.
The next few pages were blank. Nick kept flipping.
Lines appeared.
Magic isn’t like cooking, you know. You can’t just start throwing stuff together and hope it all comes out okay .
Nick slammed the book shut. The last thing he wanted right now was another one of those lectures on focus and keeping on task and paying attention his teachers were always giving him. The air thickened, and a faint sharp smell, like an electrical short, tickled his nose. He sneezed and peered uneasily into the shadows. There was something there — he knew it, something watching and waiting and judging him.
Carefully, he opened
E-Z Spelz for Little Wizardz
with trembling hands. If the book wanted him to read a bunch of preachy rules before he could get to the good stuff, well, he’d read them.
He didn’t have to follow them all.
Now, where were we? Oh, yes. CONTROL. As you’ll soon find out, magic is energy, and the energy comes from you. Use too little, nothing happens. Use too much, you’ll use it up quicker. Use it wrong, you can do a lot of damage. Here are a few examples of what can happen if you miscast a spell. I hope you have a strong stomach. You’ll need it .
There followed pages and pages of what could go wrong if a Little Wizard was weak on Concentration and Control. With sick fascination, Nick read about explosions, fires, tempests, and floods. “Inversion” seemed to mean people’s skin turning inside out. There were pictures.
The list ended with “Death” and “Dismemberment.”
Just when he thought things couldn’t get any weirder, the next page contained an Aptitude Test. It wasn’t like any test he’d had at Beaton Middle School.
1. Place your thumbs on your two favorite letters on this page.
2. Think of your worst enemy.
Wow. He’s bad, all right.
3. Think about what you would do if he was hanging off a cliff by his thumbs.
4. Pull a hair out of your head.
5. Tie a knot in it and put it in this circle: O
6. Say “Shelley Sells Sheep to Silly Sharks” six times fast.
And so on, for five pages.
When he got to the end, a neat paragraph appeared.
Your Will is off the charts, but you already knew that. Your Confidence is a sometimes thing, and your Control and your Concentration both stink. As does your sense of self-preservation. It’s getting dark. Do you want the old man to catch you? Oh, and you might want to cut up some potatoes for dinner. Boiled potatoes go well with fish .
D inah Smallbone was getting impatient.
More than two weeks had passed since the Howling Coyotes had hit Smallbone Cove Mercantile. Somehow everybody in town knew all about it, and they were considerably exercised. This sort of thing wasn’t supposed to happen in Smallbone Cove. Wasn’t it the evil wizard’s job to protect them? What about the magical Sentries that were supposed to keep them safe? Lily called a Town Meeting in the white church to talk it over.
Miss Rachel Smallbone suggested that the townsfolk walk the Town Limits and sing to the Sentries, the way her parents used to do. Ham Smallbone said no full-grown man would be caught dead tromping around the woods in the middle of winter, singing to stone walls and streams. Jezebel Smallbone pointed out that nobody knew what the songs were, anyway, unless Miss Rachel happened to remember. Miss
Bending reality takes a lot of work. When you’re doing magic, you can’t be thinking about lunch or a TV show or what might go wrong. You have to put your whole self — body, mind, and spirit — into doing it right. Spells focus your attention on what you’re doing so that the energy you raise will go where you want it. You need CONCENTRATION .
Nick flipped ahead. The book was called
E-Z Spelz
. There had to be some actual spells in here somewhere. Turning straw into gold might be useful.
The next few pages were blank. Nick kept flipping.
Lines appeared.
Magic isn’t like cooking, you know. You can’t just start throwing stuff together and hope it all comes out okay .
Nick slammed the book shut. The last thing he wanted right now was another one of those lectures on focus and keeping on task and paying attention his teachers were always giving him. The air thickened, and a faint sharp smell, like an electrical short, tickled his nose. He sneezed and peered uneasily into the shadows. There was something there — he knew it, something watching and waiting and judging him.
Carefully, he opened
E-Z Spelz for Little Wizardz
with trembling hands. If the book wanted him to read a bunch of preachy rules before he could get to the good stuff, well, he’d read them.
He didn’t have to follow them all.
Now, where were we? Oh, yes. CONTROL. As you’ll soon find out, magic is energy, and the energy comes from you. Use too little, nothing happens. Use too much, you’ll use it up quicker. Use it wrong, you can do a lot of damage. Here are a few examples of what can happen if you miscast a spell. I hope you have a strong stomach. You’ll need it .
There followed pages and pages of what could go wrong if a Little Wizard was weak on Concentration and Control. With sick fascination, Nick read about explosions, fires, tempests, and floods. “Inversion” seemed to mean people’s skin turning inside out. There were pictures.
The list ended with “Death” and “Dismemberment.”
Just when he thought things couldn’t get any weirder, the next page contained an Aptitude Test. It wasn’t like any test he’d had at Beaton Middle School.
1. Place your thumbs on your two favorite letters on this page.
2. Think of your worst enemy.
Wow. He’s bad, all right.
3. Think about what you would do if he was hanging off a cliff by his thumbs.
4. Pull a hair out of your head.
5. Tie a knot in it and put it in this circle: O
6. Say “Shelley Sells Sheep to Silly Sharks” six times fast.
And so on, for five pages.
When he got to the end, a neat paragraph appeared.
Your Will is off the charts, but you already knew that. Your Confidence is a sometimes thing, and your Control and your Concentration both stink. As does your sense of self-preservation. It’s getting dark. Do you want the old man to catch you? Oh, and you might want to cut up some potatoes for dinner. Boiled potatoes go well with fish .
D inah Smallbone was getting impatient.
More than two weeks had passed since the Howling Coyotes had hit Smallbone Cove Mercantile. Somehow everybody in town knew all about it, and they were considerably exercised. This sort of thing wasn’t supposed to happen in Smallbone Cove. Wasn’t it the evil wizard’s job to protect them? What about the magical Sentries that were supposed to keep them safe? Lily called a Town Meeting in the white church to talk it over.
Miss Rachel Smallbone suggested that the townsfolk walk the Town Limits and sing to the Sentries, the way her parents used to do. Ham Smallbone said no full-grown man would be caught dead tromping around the woods in the middle of winter, singing to stone walls and streams. Jezebel Smallbone pointed out that nobody knew what the songs were, anyway, unless Miss Rachel happened to remember. Miss
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