Page 93 of No Charm Done

“All morning long,” Polly muttered. “At this rate, half my inventory will be inappropriately fondled.”

“Well . . .” Luna tried to sound encouraging. “How’s it going overall?”

“See for yourself.” Polly gestured helplessly. “We don’t usually practice breaking spells. We learn how to make spells work, not how to ruin them. Marissa over there keeps falling in love with inanimate objects. And Jennifer—” she pointed to a middle-aged witch in the corner “—somehow managed to make that fern attracted to her.” Indeed, the plant appeared to be straining toward Jennifer like a love-struck teenager.

“Love magic is tricky,” Polly lowered her voice, “because it involves emotional energy, which is inherently unstable.”

“But they’re getting it?” Luna pressed. “Sort of?”

“Sort of.” Polly turned back to her class. “All right, everyone! Let’s try again. Switch partners, please. And Marissa? Please stop touching my inventory. Those books have been through enough.”

As they left the bookstore, Scarlett linked her arm through Luna’s. “See? It’s going to be fine.”

Luna had to laugh. “That looked fine to you?”

“Eh. They’ll figure it out. We’re going to embarrass the hell out of Vex, save Oak Haven, and you’ll forget all about you-know-who.”

“Scarlett, who could you possibly mean?”

She gave her baby sister a squeeze. “There ya go.”

* * *

“I’m just saying, Brad Pitt is like a thousand years old!” The teenager, Luna thought her name was Sophie, protested. “If Vex tried to make himself look like Brad Pitt, literally nobody would care.”

“Goodness, he’s not that old!” When Luna and Scarlett arrived at the yarn store, Aphra was teaching a group of young witches how to cast and then break an attractiveness glamour.”

“He’s got jowls,” another teen interjected. “Like, serious jowls.”

“It’s called aging,” Aphra protested. “And it’s a natural part of—you know what, never mind. Fine. Not Brad Pitt. Leonardo DiCaprio?”

The collective groan from the teenagers indicated this was also not an acceptable answer.

“He’s all bloated,” Violet said matter-of-factly. She was sprawled in one of Aphra’s armchairs, looking less goth than usual in a simple black T-shirt and jeans. “No shade, but he’s not the vibe anymore.”

“Then who is ‘the vibe’?” Aphra demanded.

“Timothée Chalamet,” three voices said in unison.

“Jacob Elordi,” two others added.

“Trent Alexander-Arnold,” Sophie said dreamily, “but that might just be me.”

“Ooh, not just you,” giggled Violet. “Good one.”

Like the bookstore, Sometimes a Great Notion had also become a classroom. The young witches sat in a circle, while their various glamours made a kaleidoscope of shifting appearances. One moment, a witch looked like herself, the next she was a dead ringer for someone else entirely. The effect was disorienting.

“How’s it going?” Scarlett asked, trying not to smile.

“Very well.” Aphra gestured at her students. “I mean, apparently, I’m too much of a relic to identify attractive human beings. But beyond that, things seem to be working. They’re all quite good at breaking glamours. Watch this: Violet, show them.”

Violet stood up and pulled out her phone. With a few taps, she activated CastR’s glamour function. Immediately, her features began to change: sharper cheekbones, different eye color, longer hair. Within seconds, she looked like a completely different person.

“Now,” Aphra instructed, “Sophie, you break it.”

Sophie stepped forward, making a small gesture with her hand. The glamour shattered like glass, and Violet was herself again.

“That was four seconds,” Aphra said with satisfaction. “When we started, it took her thirty. They’re learning fast. How are things at the other locations?”