Page 23 of The Tree of Spirits (Paragons #2)
MAGICAL MISSTEPS
T he Emporium clocktower tolled out a heavy beat, a not-so-subtle reminder that I was late. I started running in the direction of the taco restaurant.
But by the time I made it to the restaurant, the pickup line was all the way out the door.
Great. The Mistress Meeta encounter had cost me dearly, and so had my run-in with the Chameleon.
A few minutes ago, this place would’ve been empty.
Sighing, I tried not to imagine what punishment awaited me if I returned to the conference center late. Again.
I had to get those tacos fast! And I had—I glanced at the clock—only fifteen minutes to bring them back to the conference center. Yeah, that so wasn’t happening. The line was moving like glaciers rolling across the land. Which meant I’d be out of here in a millennia or two. Unless…
I reached into my backpack and pulled out the page I’d gotten from Mistress Meeta. I glanced down at it, ideas swirling in my mind. This was a teleportation spell. Maybe I could just teleport further up the line. Yeah, that was perfect.
I took a quick glance around to make sure no one was looking. No one was. Everyone’s eyes were glued to their phone screens. They were so engrossed in ignoring everything and everyone around them that they probably wouldn’t even notice if the building fell on their heads.
Thus convinced of the absolute awesomeness of my plan, I took a closer look at the spell.
It was long. And complicated. There was a very technical introduction, followed by several highly-detailed diagrams, each with its own novel-length footnote.
It read like a mash-up between a physics textbook and a philosophical exploration of the human soul.
One of the diagrams looked kind of like a constellation, but it wasn’t any constellation that I knew. It seemed that I was supposed to…draw the constellation-symbol-thingy in the air while keeping my desired destination rooted in my mind.
Yeah, that didn’t sound vague at all.
But I was bored and late and really, honestly, what did I have to lose? So I used my hand as a paintbrush and drew the bizarre symbol on a canvas of nothingness. I felt a rubber-band snap! of movement and a solid splash of vertigo.
But I’d jumped halfway up the line!
“Cool.”
Cooler yet, no one had even noticed. Fortunately, I’d caught my balance before slamming into the oblivious guy in front of me.
“No time to celebrate, Savannah. There’s work to do,” I muttered to myself.
I focused on my objective. The pickup counter was in sight, just one tiny little magical hop away. All I had to do was take it.
I drew my teleportation constellation. The snap! came again, but this time it was followed by a crash! and more than a few bangs! echoing through my dizzy head.
“What are you doing in here?”
I blinked up at a red-faced man in an apron, and that’s when I realized I was lying on the floor. I’d overshot the front of the line and teleported right through the wall—and into the pantry.
“Uh, sorry.” I rose shakily to my feet, dusting flour off my clothes. White on black. That wasn’t going away until I did laundry. “I was looking for the bathroom and I must have…slipped.”
“Bathroom’s that way,” the man snapped, thrusting his finger down the hall.
“Thanks.” I was sure my cheeks were as red as the tomatoes I’d knocked over. I diverted my eyes from the mess I’d made. “Sorry.”
By the time I’d finished pretending to go to the bathroom, the food pickup line was longer than ever.