Remedial Magic by Jenna Black Page B

might help.”
    I worried that even with Dee Dee’s help, I wasn’t going to be able to pull it off. After all, even if I had enough magic to work the spell, I still had to actually, you know, work the spell.
    “All right,” I told her, and tried to quell the doubts so they wouldn’t get in my way.
    I took a deep, calming breath, then reached out to the magic that permeated the air of Avalon. It came sluggishly to my call, as if I was dragging it kicking and screaming toward me instead of coaxing it. The magic made my skin prickle, like there were hundreds of tiny electric shocks pinging against me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dee Dee frowning, no doubt underwhelmed by the miniscule amount of magic I was able to call. When I could pull no more, I gave her an embarrassed smile, and she nodded in acknowledgment. I held on to the magic I had pulled as she cast out her own net.
    I almost lost my grip on the magic I had gathered when the prickling on my skin intensified tenfold in approximately two seconds. Whereas I’d had to drag the magic to me by brute force, it was rushing toward her like a puppy expecting a treat. She wasn’t as powerful as Ethan—I always felt like I was going to die of electric shock when he was pulling magic—but she was definitely a heavyweight.
    Calmly, she turned to me. “I’m going to send this magic your way,” she said. “It’s more than enough for telekinesis.”
    Yeah, she had that right. If I wanted to, I could probably get the whole wall to come to me with that much magic. Well, no, if Dee Dee wanted to, she could get the wall to come. It was yet to be seen whether I could even get one stuffed bear to move.
    Focusing my will, I stared at my mom’s teddy bear, visualizing what I wanted to happen, visualizing the bear sailing through the air that separated us. Even though I’d never had real success with this spell, I had tried it many times, and I already had established the words “hocus pocus” as my spell trigger. I’d have loved to have changed them—hell, even my choice of trigger words was embarrassing—but that would be a recipe for disaster.
    Mumbling the words in hopes that Dee Dee wouldn’t hear them, I cast my spell, uncomfortably aware of just how much magic was hovering in the room, how much power was at my fingertips. Perhaps I shouldn’t have had Dee Dee feed me so much, but it was too late to back out now.
    At first, I thought the spell had failed utterly, and my heart sank. The bear remained sitting on the shelf where I’d left him, though I could tell that the magic had moved away from me because the prickling sensation had faded to a more comfortable level. I opened my mouth to make some self-deprecating remark to Dee Dee when suddenly the bear stood up.
    I gasped in surprise, staring at the teddy bear that now stood impossibly on its hind legs, button eyes scanning the room until they locked on me. The mouth, which was nothing but a length of yarn sewn into the faux-fur, opened, showing a set of very convincing-looking teeth.
    “Oh, shit,” Dee Dee and I said together as the bear launched himself off of the shelf toward me.
    I screamed and dove to the side. Yes, the bear was sort of following my magical command, but no, it didn’t look like it was coming for a cuddle. Not the way it was baring those impossible teeth.
    The bear landed on the bed, right where I had been, and I heard the snap of its teeth coming together as I leapt to my feet. It turned to me and snarled.
    “A little help!” I gasped at Dee Dee. I was trying to call the magic back, but it was a feeble effort. If it was more magic than I could handle, then it was probably more magic than I could un -handle.
    “I’m trying!” Dee Dee said, her face white and her eyes wide. Then, “Look out!” Her gaze was fixed on something behind me.
    Instinctively, I ducked. Something sailed over my head, and when I looked up, I saw that three more bears had joined my mother’s teddy bear