Wolf Spell: Shifters Bewitched #1 by Tasha Black (i am malala young readers edition .TXT) 📕

in that section as well, as if they had used the high shelves as a ladder and knocked them off on their way down.

Before I could ask about it, the headmistress lifted her arms and everyone around the library did the same, palms up.

I lifted my hands and closed my eyes to clear my mind. It was hard not to look around. Wards were all fine and well, but all I really wanted to do was to find the section with books on healing.

I was expecting some kind of monotonous chant, but surprisingly, the headmistress began to sing, her voice deep and lovely. The language of the song wasn’t familiar to me, but as I listened, its meaning seemed to appear behind my eyes.

I saw a constellation of radiant stars, sliding out into a line and then tightening together in a circle, like pearls around a dowager’s neck.

The air around me seemed to fill with the scent of cinnamon. It slammed me into a memory of baking oatmeal cookies with Jon in our old apartment.

I could see the light bleeding in around the blinds. Jon had a serious expression on his face and flecks of flour in his dark hair.

I snuck a bite of cookie dough while his back was turned. As it melted in my mouth, I watched as he opened the oven, releasing a wave of deliciously warm air into our drafty little kitchen.

Christmas music was playing on the tinny little radio we kept on the counter. Tchaikovsky’s The Nutcracker came on.

When Jon straightened, he was smiling. He grabbed me and we pretend ballet-danced all over the kitchen, laughing our heads off.

The headmistress’s song grew quieter and the vision faded.

Naked emotion had tears streaming down my cheeks.

Her song changed, growing stronger, less sentimental, and I managed to stem the flow of my weeping.

Embarrassment set in. How was I going to hold my head high when I had been bawling my eyes out in the library in front of everyone?

I stole a glance at the girls beside me to see if they had noticed and was shocked to see their cheeks were wet with tears, too.

The older girls added their voices to the song now, and I could feel a strange energy in the room buzzing faintly around us. More voices joined the chorus, then more, including Cori’s. I could see her across the library with some of the second-years.

At last Nina, Lark and Anya were singing too, and I could feel the melody bubbling up in my chest, even though I didn’t know the words.

I opened my mouth anyway, and let the sound cascade from me. The tune was wordless, but the notes were there. Whatever magic I had I would gladly lend itself to the library.

For a moment, the whole room seemed to glow with more than sunlight.

Then the song was done.

We stood still, panting from the effort, though all we had done was sing.

Of course it had been more than that. Something had been drawn from us. I knew because the room had transformed to a black and white cartoon in front of me.

I closed my eyes and breathed in and out slowly.

“Bella, are you okay?” Anya asked.

“I’m fine,” I told her. “I’m just not used to using my magic.”

“Is it your vision?” she asked, with concern. “I should have warned you not to try. The rest of us were meditating all morning to pay it forward.”

“It’s just the colors are missing,” I told her. “They’ll be back soon, if this is like the other times.”

She nodded, but there was still a furrow on her brow.

“Thank you, students,” Headmaster Hart called out from inside the circle. “Everyone is dismissed to go to class, except first-year students. First-years, you will be cleaning this up.”

“Do we all have to clean up?” Lark grumbled, not realizing the headmistress was marching our way instead of out to the hall.

We all took an involuntary step backward as she turned to us.

“Good point, Lark,” she said in a loud, clear voice. “Just your group will be fine. All other first-years may be dismissed to class.”

She continued into the stacks as the rest of the students headed out.

Nina elbowed Lark in the ribs and Lark muttered and apology.

Luckily, it didn’t look like it would take the four of us too long to clean up. And maybe I could get a good look around the place while we were at it.

Kendall headed our way, with two of her third-year friends. One was short and blonde, the other tall and dark-haired. I remembered them from the cafeteria. The short blonde had called me a breeder.

“Oops,” the shorter one said, deliberately knocking half a shelf of books on the floor and arching a delicate brow at Lark.

She laughed, it was an annoying high-pitched sound, and one of her friends laughed with her. They both turned to Kendall.

Belatedly, Kendall laughed, too.

Then the three headed out of the library.

“What the hell?” Lark said.

“They’re just jerks,” Nina said, patting her back.

“I know Kendall, but who were the others?” I asked.

“The short one is Esme and the tall one is Theodosia, but everyone calls her Dozie,” Anya explained.

“They think because they’re legs that they’re better than the rest of us,” Nina said.

“Legs?” I echoed.

“Legacies,” Anya explained. “Their mothers went here too, grandmothers as well, for some of them.”

“Does that give them stronger magic?” I asked, fascinated.

“They seem to think so,” Lark said, rolling her eyes.

“Does magic run in families?” I asked.

“Probably,” Anya said, bending to pick up the books that Esme had knocked over. “Though there are plenty of us who are the first in our families to come to Primrose.”

“But it’s also possible that some people have magic in their families and they just don’t know about it,” Nina said. “In my family, something like that would have been frowned on.”

I nodded and thought about my own extended family. I couldn’t imagine any of them setting wards around things, but I supposed it was possible I could have gone