Page 78 of Spark of Sorcery

A pinch of sprite dust.

When we get to this point, Madame unlocks a well-secured cupboard at the back of the classroom, and then a heavy metal box. She extracts a small white marble pot, its lid fixed by a golden hinge. On the top of the lid is painted a tiny dancing creature.

Madame walks around the desks, adding a pinch of the sparkling pink dust into each potion as she does.

“Can’t we do it ourselves?” the shadow weaver Ashleighasks from the front row, obviously expecting the Madame to submit to them.

“No,” the Madame says sternly, “this pinch of powder is worth more than I’m sure most of the Slate students’ families earn in a year.” She smirks at me. “In fact, it’s utterly priceless. The only people that own such dust are me – for teaching purposes of course – and the Empress herself.”

Madame continues weaving her way around the desks; when she reaches the front row where the shadow weavers are sitting, she’s more generous with her pinch. Except for me. She goes to pinch her fingers into the marble pot, lifting her hand and releasing her fingers over my potion. Nothing falls from her grip.

“That didn’t work,” I point out. She’s already moved on to the next potion. Bet she did that deliberately. I’m certain of it. “Madame Bardin, nothing sprinkled into my potion.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she dismisses. “Of course it did. Everyone saw me sprinkle dust into your potion. There’s no need to be greedy, Miss Storm.”

“I’m not,” I insist. “Nothing fell into my pot.”

“Surely, you could give her just a tad more,” Dray says, with a characteristically charming smile, “just to be sure.”

“Certainly not,” Madame says, snapping shut the lid. “This dust is precious and can not be wasted just because some silly girl isn’t observant enough.”

A couple of the shadow weavers giggle, although they stop when Dray swings his dangerous gaze their way. He pushes his chair backwards and lumbers to his feet. Casually, he strolls towards Madame Bardin, blowing a bubble with his gum as he does. When he reaches her, the bubble pops with a bang.

She doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t look happy, but she also doesn’t look intimidated.

“I will personally ensure that the additional sprite dust is replaced,” he says, holding out his hand, palm side up.

“And how will you do that?” the Madame says, lips curling into a seductive smile.

“I will ask the Empress personally to replace it from her own collection.”

A hush full of tension falls across the classroom.

The Empress? How the hell can Dray promise something like that?

The smile on the Madame’s face twitches but she holds it there and places the pot into Dray’s hand.

I watch, gobsmacked, as he strolls back to my desk, opens the pot and dumps a pinch of pink dust into my potion.

“There you go, Kitten,” he says with a wink, before tossing the pot over his shoulder.

The classroom takes a collective gasp as the delicate pot sails high towards the ceiling, everyone half-expecting for the lip to flip open and sprite dust to spatter everywhere.

However, Madame Bardin moves with unexpected speed and grabs the pot in mid flight.

One boy in the back row claps but stops pretty abruptly when Madame snaps, “Back to work!”

Fifteen minutes later, we’re draining the potion and fishing out the tiny pieces of lead resting at the bottom of our cauldrons.

I gasp when I hook my piece out. It’s only the size of my thumbnail but, where moments ago, it was dull and gray, now it shines a golden color between my fingers.

“It worked!” I say, amazed. “It actually worked.”

“Some magic doesn’t require powers, Kitten,” Dray says beside me, pocketing his own piece of gold – at least threetimes the size of mine. “Like orgasms for instance. Like the ability I have to wring a pretty awesome orgasm from your pussy with my tongue–”

But I’m not really listening to him. I’m too busy staring at my piece of gold with wonderment.

I did it. I actually did it.