The neophyte trap
"No!" Rose shouts and tries to take the book away from me, but I jump back and move it away.
The cold, hostile intent emanates from the book's pages. Its cover moves under my fingers like there are live eels swimming inside. I want to throw it as far from me as I can, but instead hold it tighter.
I feel my own will clash with that of the book. It has magic, and it wants to stay where it was; I have magic, and I want to keep this book under control.
It's a clash of spells on their most primitive level, and although the book is no slouch, the combination of my will and my magic are stronger.
It's forced to stay quiet and don't do anything weird.
"Just you wait, Rose," I say, backing away to the front door. "You will calm down and realize that I was right, and you were wrong, and we will talk calmly."
Right now, Rose clearly isn't able to do this.