It would never happen, I thought, pushing the catalog away. Getting nice furniture, not the death threat. My eyes slid from the shiny paper to my ley line textbook. I stared at it, thinking. I could channel more power than most. My dad hadn’t wanted me to know. Dr. Anders thought I was an idiot. There was only one thing I could do.

Taking a breath, I pulled the book closer. I thumbed to the back and the appendices, stopping at the incantation for binding a familiar. It was all ritualistic, with notations referring to techniques I hadn’t a clue on. The incantation was in English, and there were no brews or plants involved at all. It was as alien to me as geometry, and I didn’t like feeling stupid.

The pages made a pleasant sound as I rifled to the front of the book looking for something I could understand. I slowed, inserting my thumb as I found an incantation for diverting objects in motion. Cool, I thought. It was exactly why I had wanted a wand.

Sitting straighter, I crossed my knees and leaned over the book. You were supposed to draw on stored ley line energy to manipulate small things, and connect right to a line for things with a lot of mass or that were moving quickly. The only physical thing I needed was an object to serve as a focal point.

I looked up as Jenks flitted in the open kitchen window. “Hey, Rache,” he said cheerily. “Whatcha doing?”

Reaching for the furniture catalog, I slid it smoothly over the textbook. “Not much,” I said as I looked down. “You’re in a good mood.”

“I just got back from your mom’s. She’s cool, you know.” He flew to the center island counter, landing on it to put himself at nearly my eye level. “Jax is doing well. If your mom is cotton to the idea, I’m going to let him have a go at making a garden big enough to support him.”

“Cotton?” I questioned, turning a page to some beautiful phone tables. I blanched at the price. How could something that small cost so much?

“Yeah. You know … cool, A-okay, keen, kosher.”

“I know what it means,” I said, recognizing it as one of my mother’s favorite phrases and thinking it odd Jenks would have picked it up.

“Have you talked to Ivy yet?” he asked.

“No.”

My frustration was obvious in the short word. Jenks hesitated, then, with a clattering of wings, he flew a swooping path to land upon my shoulder. “Sorry.”

I forced a pleasant expression as I pulled my head up and tucked a curl behind my ear. “Yeah, me too.”

He made an irate noise with his wings. “So-o-o, whatcha hiding under the catalog? Looking through Ivy’s leather outlets?”

My jaw tightened. “It’s nothing,” I said softly.

“You looking to buy furniture?” he scoffed. “Give me a break.”

Peeved, I waved him away. “Yeah. I want furniture, something other than pressboard—excuse me—engineered wood. Ivy’s stuff makes mine look like trailer-park plastic.”