Meanwhile, Rocky was studying quietly at his little desk. His notebook lay open in front of him, and he tapped his pencil gently against the page while sneaking nervous glances at his mother. Queen Granite sat beside him, reading a thick history book with calm elegance, unaware of the emotional earthquake happening inside her son.
Boo had taught them the "memory spell."
A… questionable spell.
A spell Rocky very badly wanted to try.
But saying it out loud in front of his mother?
Impossible.
He would rather turn into a rock and roll away.
So he clutched his book to his chest, cheeks warming, and stared so hard at his math problems that his eyes crossed.
He inhaled deeply.
Should he chant the spell?
…No.
Mom was right there.
What if she heard him say blurp blurp?
He would die on the spot.
Instead, Rocky tried something clever.
Something strategic.
Something Boo would call "stealthy smart work."
