Hold Tight

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I figured if I got caught with the little ironclad book, I’d ask him for forgiveness. Really, in the whole scheme of the universe, what was one little spell?

My six-year-old brother and I were home alone, and he was in the family room, engrossed in his favorite cartoon. Dad was stuck at work, again, but tonight that would be to my advantage because I needed privacy to cast the spell.

I grabbed a cereal bowl from the cabinet next to the refrigerator, filled it with a bottle of spring water, and dropped in three acorns and three dried rose petals. One last glance at the incantation, and I was ready. With my hands held palms-up in front of me, I spoke in a low whisper so as not to attract Chase’s attention:

From here to there and nowhere neverwhere

Through Come time and space and ethereal

I call to thee Sanctus majestic

Reedsnap, [Dellis, Rhoswen]

A faint crackle like the crunch of dried leaves under dainty feet seemed to enter the kitchen through the open window. A weak pop-pop-swish slithered by me thereafter, and the sweet aroma of honeydew filled my nostrils. I spun around, expecting to see a bright-eyed faerie with sparkling cheeks and pointy little ears near the stove, but I was alone. I continued to read:

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