A Spooky Magic Spell: Spooky Magic Mysteries, #2

By Chynna Pace

Autumn Appleseed can't seem to fit in with her genius family. Her siblings earn perfect grades in their sleep, but the best she can do for her terrible report card is turn it into a chocolate bar. Even worse, everyone has their own thing. Autumn doesn't know what her thing is, but she's desperate to find out, to prove that she isn't a dumb witch after all.

 

At first, nothing surfaces. But then she puts two and two together. She loves desserts, spending hours at the local bakery, and remembering her grandpa, who owned a sweet shop for decades. One day she picks up one of her grandpa's magic cookbooks and decides to try baking herself. That's when everything changes. Autumn falls in love with rolling pins and cookie cutters—even better, she's certain this is her thing. But then something terrible happens. Her cookbook is stolen! Now Autumn must play detective and try to solve the case. Can she bake her way to the culprit and save her dream? Read on to find out!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chynna Pace
• Release date: Oct 9, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223590897

Book preview

Chapter 1

Autumn Appleseed stared at the figure approaching her with absolute terror in her eyes. She was shaking in her cute leather purple boots, and shivering in her school uniform, which would’ve been acceptable if class was being held outside since it was such a chilly October day, but as it happened, it was very warm here in the Curse and Hex Defense classroom. The only cold thing was the look on Professor Quibbly’s face.

And it was very cold indeed.

Autumn hunched down and tried to make herself look very small, which wasn’t an easy feat because of her plump stomach—her cupcake-loving stomach, as her syrupy sweet older brother Tom liked to call it—and her wide, stocky legs. But at least she had her long brown hair to use as a makeshift curtain to hide behind.

Not that it would make much difference.

Professor Quibbly was already at her desk.

Your report card, Miss Appleseed.

A crisp white sheet of paper fell on Autumn’s desk. She looked at it. One glance, that’s all it took. It didn’t take much to see that it was a long row of C’s and D’s.

Autumn tried to smile. Again, not an easy feat.

Not that she couldn’t smile. In fact, before her sweet old grandfather passed away two years ago, he used to always say her wide, full-lipped mouth (a trait from his side of the family, along with the round belly and sturdy legs) was good for two things, eating and giving the best smiles. Which she did a lot of.

Except when Professor Quibbly was in front of her.

Professor Quibbly, with her tight black bun, thin pursed mouth, and shrewd dark eyes, was the meanest and strictest professor at Silverbone Academy. She was also Autumn’s homeroom professor at the academy, which meant that she was head teacher for five of Autumn’s classes. Curse and Hex Defense, Intermediate Charms, Potions, Ancient Spells, and Bewitching History.

A few months ago, her homeroom teacher had been Professor Dusk, a much nicer, and prettier, professor. But ever since Autumn turned eleven, gaining her very own broomstick, wand, and familiar (an adorable black cat named Sam who was her everything), the heat had been turned up on her academics. As if she hadn’t already been feeling warm before. Eleven was the year that marked a fledgling’s transition into official witchhood. It was kind of a big deal. Everyone in her family thought she needed more responsibility, more challenges to help boost her grades. So here she was, shrinking in her seat, in a class with a professor way too hard for her.

Truly a shame, said the professor. "After such astonishing Appleseed talent graced my classroom in years past…now I am stuck with you."

Autumn gulped. I’ll try harder, Professor.

That was what she always said.

And she always tried. Really, she did.

She couldn’t help it that she was an absolute dummy at school. It wasn’t her fault that Tom and Lavender had been blessed with the Appleseed family brains. Even little Amethyst was brilliant in her own way; not an academic genius, exactly, but an artist, an amazing one, one who always stunned the family at parties and holidays when she showed her latest painting or read aloud one of her smashing poems.

Autumn never stunned her family. Unless it was in a bad way.

Which is exactly what this report card was going to do…unless she did something to hide it.

As soon as Professor Quibbly had finished handing out the report cards, it was officially the end of class. The end of school. Yes! Autumn grabbed her things and ran out of the room into the corridor.

Sam was waiting for her there.

Sam! she cried, dropping her books and bag right in the middle of the floor and running to hug him. And he stood up on his furry hind legs and hugged her right back, tossing his little paws round her neck. Autumn didn’t even mind when his claws got caught in her hair and tugged painfully on the strands. She just laughed, untangled him, and set him back down.

Sam was great. She’d named him after Samantrine, a witch she’d learned about in Bewitching History class. Samantrine wasn’t as well known as the greats like Merlin, Morgana, or Baba Yaga, but Autumn thought she was much more impressive, because according to her textbooks, she’d actually discovered a whole new branch of magic. Baking magic. She’d been like Autumn, a little chubby, with a monstrous sweet tooth, and she’d figured out how to create all sorts of spells with desserts and pastries. There were even some accounts that said Samantrine had used her flour powers to defeat formidable enemies and slay evil forces.

Legend had it that Samantrine had written all her recipes down in books over the years, but that was centuries ago. It was Autumn’s dream to find them, but she doubted if she ever would.

Maybe Grampy had had some of Samantrine’s books. He’d been a famous pastry chef after all. He’d even owned a bakeshop in town for thirty years, and when he’d lived in the basement of the Appleseed home, he’d kept hundreds of cookbooks.

Uh-oh, you’re zoning out again.

Autumn blinked. Suddenly, the rush of the school corridor came back to her reality. She heard the stampeding of the students around her, saw them hurrying toward the doors, felt them jostling into her on their way past.

And in front of her, Sam was blinking his big gold eyes up at her.

Oops, sorry, she said. Did you say something?

Sam laughed. Yep. I asked you how your day was. So how was it?

Autumn sighed. She bent down to pick up her things. Her books had shoe prints on them and her backpack was thoroughly squished from being trodden on. As she trudged down the corridor with Sam at her heels, she said, It was okay. I got my report card from Professor Quibbly.

Oh dear. Is it bad?

Worse than bad. It’s the most terrible report card I’ve ever gotten. Ma’s gonna be so disappointed.

Unless…

Autumn looked down at Sam. Unless what?

"Unless you do a little bit of magic. The magic you’re actually good at."

Autumn pushed open the doors. Sam trotted out first, then she followed, frowning as she struggled to maneuver her books in her arms and sling her bag over her shoulder at the same time.

What do you mean? she asked.

Sam’s fur shivered when he walked down the front stone steps. The same wind rustling through his fluffy body was lifting the strands of Autumn’s hair and sneaking icy fingers underneath her clothes, freezing her skin.

You know what I mean, he said. "Do what you did last night at dinner, when you didn’t want to eat steamed broccoli. Or should I say, what you do every night when you don’t want to eat something at dinner?"

Oh yeah. Autumn giggled.

One of her favorite spells to do was one she’d invented herself when she was just five years old. Her parents had given her a plate of raccoon livers and mashed peas to eat, and told her she wouldn’t get any dessert until she’d eaten all of it. Well, little Autumn had just pointed her finger at the plate, wished that the livers tasted like peanut butter cookies and the peas tasted like ice cream, and well…she’d gotten her wish.

It wasn’t the kind of magic they’d teach in the academy, and Autumn had never seen it in a spellbook, but Sam was right. She’d been sweetening her dinner plates every night for years. Any time there was something she didn’t like to eat, a flutter of her fingers underneath the table was all it took to transform it to something she did like.

I know exactly what you mean, Autumn said. "And I think that’s a fabulous idea. Come on!"

Autumn knew she had to do it before she got home, and she couldn’t do it in broad view of all the students swarming the grounds on their various routes to their houses. So with Sam trotting at her heels, she scurried around to the side of the academy building, to the courtyard literally no one ever went to, because there was a statue of Mara Silverbone, the founder of the academy, there, and there was a nasty rumor it was haunted by the ghost of Mara herself.

Autumn was more afraid of her parents than of ghosts, so she went right up to the dried up water fountain, atop which the statue perched, cracked gray stone covered in ivy and bird poop, and whipped out her report card and her wand.

Sam hopped up onto the edge of the water fountain and pattered around on the aged stone. What will it be this time? he asked casually.

Hmm. Probably something chocolaty. I’m craving chocolate. How about this?

She tapped the tip of her wand to her report card and with a little spark of gold, the piece of paper completely transformed. It shortened, thickened, and the white paper turned to silver wrapping. A heavenly smell filled the air. Autumn smiled and pocketed her wand, then tore a chunk of silver wrapping off