It was a book that would ruin Lana’s life.

She was seven years old, and she could already tell that she was different from the other kids. Moody, prone to getting lost in her own thoughts, seeing the world in a way others didn’t. Lana would make observations, and people would look at her funny, as if she were speaking in a foreign language. Then they would inevitably change the subject to something actually interesting them: gossip about mutual friends or an upcoming sporting event.

Then they would all move on and forget about Lana’s faux pas, leaving her to continue looking at the clouds and the way the sunlight shimmered around their edges—or whatever romance she eventually learned to keep to herself.

No one liked to hear that the earth was singing to her. No one else wanted to listen to its music anyway.

It would have gone on like this forever.

Lana would have continued to bottle up her senses for the rest of her life. She would have tuned out the voices of the world around her. And as she stopped listening and tried desperately to make friends, find love, earn approval from authority figures, the more-than-human world would have stopped reaching out to her.

And she would have fallen deaf to them, just like everyone else.

It’s a survival mechanism, you see. Human beings are pack animals.

But Lana avoided this fate. Or rather, this fate was wrenched away from her. By a cunning enchantress who couldn’t bear to see a good, young mind wasted.

At the book fair.

As her classmates perused picture books with glossy pink covers and pencils with smelly erasers, Lana sifted through the advanced chapter books on a shelf in the back of the room. Most of these she had read before (the perks of being a loner). She was just about to turn back to her mom and say they could go.

When a flash of gold caught her eye.

Lana shoved aside a stack of mislaid Magic Treehouses and gazed in awe at what she had uncovered.

There was only one copy of this book. The cover was a deep purple leather that felt buttery soft in her hands. The gold lettering (and to her child brain, it was undoubtedly real gold) read, Magic for Beginners: An Overview of Witchcraft and Occultism for the Curious Mind by Madam Miriam Stipplesew.

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Lana knew that she had unearthed a treasure.

The simple lettering, the gold edges. She thumbed the pages and realized with a start that when she pushed the edges down and away from one another just slightly, an image was revealed. It was a beautiful enchantress.

She had blonde curls, kind eyes, and luscious lips, with a single finger held up to them, as if telling the reader, “This is our secret.”

And just as Lana was thinking this, words appeared on the pages next to the illustration.

“This book was written for you, Lana.”

Lana almost dropped it. She caught herself and snapped the book closed. She stared at the gold edges for a good long moment before getting up the courage to pull the covers apart and press the edges of the pages away from one another again.

There were no words this time, just that illustration of the shushing enchantress.

But this time it looked like she was winking.

If Lana had been rational like the adults in her life, she would have convinced herself that the book hadn’t spoken to her. She must have simply imagined it.

But Lana wasn’t rational. There was a word for what she was that she would learn later.

She was enchanted.

And she needed this book.

Lana ran up to her mom, who was waiting patiently by the checkout register, trying not to look as tired as she felt.

“Mom, mom!” Lana said breathlessly. “I want this one.”

Lana gave her a stern look.

“Please.” Lana gave her a polite, charming smile.

Mom eyed the gold details of the hard cover, dubious. The book looked expensive.

“Lana, I don’t know. Isn’t there anything—” her eyes flicked wistfully over to the discount paperback section. But Lana clung to her arm.

“No, Mom, please, please!” Lana’s lip quivered. She had never wanted anything in her life as much as she wanted this book, needed this book. I mean, it had spoken to her. “This is the book. I promise. I’ll read it right away, and you always say reading is important!”

Mom sighed.

Her daughter was right. There were worse things in the world than having a child who was eager to read. She and Dad had made it a priority to require Lana’s literacy, and if this was the book that would keep her excited about learning, then so be it.

The cashier rang up the book, and Mom paid for it with her credit card.

Neither she nor Lana knew that her daughter would never be the same again. This book would light a fire. It would teach her to imagine. It would tantalize her with descriptions of possibilities for a future that Lana had not previously dared herself to dream.

She would learn that there were hundreds, even thousands of people out there who were just like her.

She would not be content with the path that she was on.

This book would stoke her ambition.

It would ruin Lana’s life.