Page 59 of Magical Mischief

“It’s all a day in the life of…” Twobble nodded, never one to be shy of his accomplishments.

I chuckled as a hush followed that brimmed with promise.

For the first time in a while, the plan felt straightforward. I just needed to recite a spell, undo the size enchantment, and ensure my dad’s mind was still free from Gideon’s darkness.

And then I’d finally get to go to the Academy to work on breaking the curse. The last thought made my heart soar.

“Let’s shrink a bulldog,” Twobble announced, wiggling his eyebrows.

Stella raised her teacup. “To not flattening half the woods in the process.”

“Good luck,” Bella chimed in, eyes sparkling.

As magic faintly swirled at my fingertips, I stepped forward and finally took a deep breath. This was the moment I’d been waiting for.

Chapter Fourteen

I stared at the spell for a few more minutes and memorized it as I glanced up at my dad, who reminded me of an inflatable bounce house at this point.

His jowls alone were big enough to swallow me whole, and every time he breathed, the windows rattled in their frames.

Twobble dropped a half-empty salt pouch on the ground.

“Tell me again why we have to do the incantation with exactly thirteen scoops of salt?” I asked. “Is that some weird number-lore or Twobble-lore?”

“Weird number-lore,” he answered with a frown. “Don’t you know by now that goblins don’t waste time for funsies? Twelve and the whole spell goes kaput, and fourteen and you might as well make soup.”

From behind the safety of the porch, Stella snorted a laugh.

“Do you think this is going to work?” I asked my vampire friend.

“I say never say never,” she remarked. “It’s worth a shot. Stonewick has had monstrous wolves and the occasional enraged gargoyle, but a bus-sized bulldog? That’s new territory.”

“He’s surprisingly calm,” she mused.

“Well, might as well make it happen. Hopefully, I don’t triple his size,” I muttered more to myself than anyone.

Twobble snapped his fingers dramatically. “Hence the lumps of salt. That’s why I was counting them. If you humans would just listen to me.”

“Right, yes, lumps, lumps,” I cut in, scooping the salt from the pouch and dumping it around my dad. “We’ll do it by the book.”

“Looks good,” Twobble said with a slow nod. “Real good.”

“Perfect. Right. Here we go,” I said, staring at my dad and pointing my wand at him.

If it made him nervous, he didn’t show it, and then I began my chant.

By starlit thread and subtle spark,

We cast aside the giant’s mark,

An image of my ex popped into my head, and I shoved it right out and kept going.

Release the swell, restore the frame,

No longer large, revert the same.

On all fours,