After all, Agnes had just replenished the school’s supplies.
She needed to go back over the shelves and read each label. Sylvie turned back toward theAjars. The space next to Belinda opened, as she shuffled toward her father.
Sylvie’s gaze drifted from shelf to shelf.Where are you?
“Shouldn’t be long now,” said Flora, checking her watch.
Maggie nodded. “Kitty will be handing out FizzleFott’s Fire Wands for the parade. She’ll lead the first-year students and you two. Once she gets here, we’ll join our parade groups and get our booths set up.”
“That’s fine,” said Georgia. “I doubt big, and bigger, Bass will cause trouble with a teacher here… . Everything all right, Sylvie? You’ve been awfully quiet.”
“S-sorry. What was that?” Sylvie swallowed hard.
“I said you’ve been quiet.” Georgia eyed her. “Plus, you look like the creek has flooded up to your elbows.”
“I’m fine.” Sylvie forced a smile. “Really… . All good.”
Sylvie’s gaze settled back on the shelf she’d been staring at a moment ago. Next to where Jack and Belinda Bass now stood was a crystal container. The silver ID tag wrapped around it, ending in a point below the wordWOAD.
On the bright side, Sylvie was right. The ingredient she needed wasn’t gone, just misplaced. Now, she’d found it. Trouble was, it was stuck—between a rock (Pink Rock Salt to be specific) and a jar of Pickle Dust.
To make matters worse, Sylvie was running out of time.Things will only get harder once Kitty arrives.Sylvie stared at the jar of glistening black powder. She needed a plan to get to it, fast.
The girls shuffled closer to the wall as kids moved around the room.
Sylvie glanced at the jar in front of her. BURSTING BUTTER BEANS. Like skateboarding, she couldn’t overthink; she just had to act.
She lifted her arm. The bursting butter beans were at just the right height. It didn’t take much. A simple punch.
The jar came crashing down like a tumbling piggy bank. Beans of various sizes burst out, rattling, clinking, and rolling across the floor like loose bits of change.
Clang! Bang! Pop!
But unlike loose change, these beans seemed to have an electric charge. Every time one hit the ground, it burst back into the air.
Bang! Pop!
A boy standing not too far from Sylvie screamed as several pelted him in the head. More bounced up, crashing against shelves, threatening to send more jars tumbling down.
All eyes were now focused on the chaos. Bass and his agents raced over.
“We need a container!” he shouted. “Belinda, empty your tool kit, darlin’.”
Belinda muscled her way through the crowd and yanked open a box; piping tips, whisks, and spatulas plopped to the ground.
“Good.” Bass took it from her. “Now, try to catch ’em.”
The green-eyed agent yanked off her apron. “We can use this as a net,” she said, fastening her gold pin to one end, tightly grasping the other.
Kids continued to duck and scream.
This was it, Sylvie’s chance to grab the woad. She stooped under elbows, slipping across layers of grease.
Splat!
A butter bean burst beneath her shoe. Sylvie grabbed hold of a shelf as she slid forward, nearly doing a face-plant.
Bang!
