Read Online Samhain (Matilda Kavanagh Book 2) by Shauna Granger - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Shauna Granger
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kicked out, but it almost felt as if they’d already been there for generations. I saw cars and caravans and old-fashioned wood-and-canvas wagons everywhere. Children were chasing each other through the maze of vehicles and fires, high-pitched laughter echoing after them. There were cats and dogs and goats and even, gods be good, chickens just wandering around.
I tiptoed around two chickens, hurrying away before they could peck at my shoes. Once I’d put a wagon between me and the demon birds, I tugged at my jacket, straightening it and readjusting the strap of my messenger bag. Inside were my trusty knockout powder and a vial of truth serum, just in case.
All around me were conversations mixed with the yells of harried mothers admonishing their kids, and the lyrical notes of music drifting through the pop and crackle of fires set up between circles of encampments. People eyed me as I walked through; they were a mix of plain, mundane eyes and the glowing power of Weres. I didn’t bother to ask them where Tollis was—I knew none of them would tell an outsider. It was going to be on me to find him myself. The farther into the camp I wandered, the thicker the groups of people and vehicles and tents became, until almost everything was touching everything else. I kept a tight grip on my bag, one hand on the front flap, the other on the strap.
“Girl,” a woman called, her voice striking me between my shoulder blades.
I turned, knowing instinctively that the woman was talking to me.
“Yes, you, girl.” A round, bent woman ambled up to me. Her long black hair was held back in two thin braids that hung to her waist. They swung with her rolling gait as she moved through the swarm of pups and children.
She stopped within an inch of me and squinted. Thousands of tiny lines decorated her full face, and between her eyes, a red jewel was stuck to her forehead. She clutched a long, curving pipe in one hand and a gnarled staff in the other. She leaned her heavy weight against the staff as she stared up at me. It was a rare occurrence that I was taller than someone, but if the woman was over five feet tall, then I was a two-tailed salamander.
“Come with me, girl.” The woman stuck the pipe in her mouth, pinched the sleeve of my jacket, and turned me around, dragging me with her.
I tripped and stumbled as she dragged me to a tiny canvas-topped wagon. The three-step ladder squeaked as she waddled up to the tiny door that I didn’t believe she would actually fit through. I followed her in, not quite sure why. She seemed so insistent that I couldn’t refuse her.
The inside of the wagon was like being in the overcrowded closet of someone who refused to give up even one precious item from their life. Lanterns hung from the ceiling, and I had to duck to keep from banging my head. Shelves built into both sides of the wagon were overflowing with crystals, tiny boxes, books, and trinkets. Candles dripped wax onto the creaking floorboards, their flickering yellow light mixed with the muted orange light of the lanterns.
The center was taken up with a low, round table covered in blue silk. She had a stack of worn tarot cards and even a crystal ball resting on a tarnished metal stand. I tried to hide my sour expression when I looked at the smoky quartz crystal ball. The woman waddled around the table before collapsing in a low chair that I was certain would break under her. She moved as easily around her cramped quarters as Ronnie did through her overstocked shop. She took two more puffs from her pipe, blowing out the blue-gray smoke to fill the wagon and make me cough, before she set it on one of the over-crowded shelves.
“Sit, sit, sit,” she said, waving impatiently at the large pillow on the floor in front of me. The red jewel between her eyes flashed in the light as she shifted into a more comfortable position.
“Oh, yeah, sure.” I grabbed my bag to hold in my lap as I sat cross-legged on the pillow. I gripped my bag to
I tiptoed around two chickens, hurrying away before they could peck at my shoes. Once I’d put a wagon between me and the demon birds, I tugged at my jacket, straightening it and readjusting the strap of my messenger bag. Inside were my trusty knockout powder and a vial of truth serum, just in case.
All around me were conversations mixed with the yells of harried mothers admonishing their kids, and the lyrical notes of music drifting through the pop and crackle of fires set up between circles of encampments. People eyed me as I walked through; they were a mix of plain, mundane eyes and the glowing power of Weres. I didn’t bother to ask them where Tollis was—I knew none of them would tell an outsider. It was going to be on me to find him myself. The farther into the camp I wandered, the thicker the groups of people and vehicles and tents became, until almost everything was touching everything else. I kept a tight grip on my bag, one hand on the front flap, the other on the strap.
“Girl,” a woman called, her voice striking me between my shoulder blades.
I turned, knowing instinctively that the woman was talking to me.
“Yes, you, girl.” A round, bent woman ambled up to me. Her long black hair was held back in two thin braids that hung to her waist. They swung with her rolling gait as she moved through the swarm of pups and children.
She stopped within an inch of me and squinted. Thousands of tiny lines decorated her full face, and between her eyes, a red jewel was stuck to her forehead. She clutched a long, curving pipe in one hand and a gnarled staff in the other. She leaned her heavy weight against the staff as she stared up at me. It was a rare occurrence that I was taller than someone, but if the woman was over five feet tall, then I was a two-tailed salamander.
“Come with me, girl.” The woman stuck the pipe in her mouth, pinched the sleeve of my jacket, and turned me around, dragging me with her.
I tripped and stumbled as she dragged me to a tiny canvas-topped wagon. The three-step ladder squeaked as she waddled up to the tiny door that I didn’t believe she would actually fit through. I followed her in, not quite sure why. She seemed so insistent that I couldn’t refuse her.
The inside of the wagon was like being in the overcrowded closet of someone who refused to give up even one precious item from their life. Lanterns hung from the ceiling, and I had to duck to keep from banging my head. Shelves built into both sides of the wagon were overflowing with crystals, tiny boxes, books, and trinkets. Candles dripped wax onto the creaking floorboards, their flickering yellow light mixed with the muted orange light of the lanterns.
The center was taken up with a low, round table covered in blue silk. She had a stack of worn tarot cards and even a crystal ball resting on a tarnished metal stand. I tried to hide my sour expression when I looked at the smoky quartz crystal ball. The woman waddled around the table before collapsing in a low chair that I was certain would break under her. She moved as easily around her cramped quarters as Ronnie did through her overstocked shop. She took two more puffs from her pipe, blowing out the blue-gray smoke to fill the wagon and make me cough, before she set it on one of the over-crowded shelves.
“Sit, sit, sit,” she said, waving impatiently at the large pillow on the floor in front of me. The red jewel between her eyes flashed in the light as she shifted into a more comfortable position.
“Oh, yeah, sure.” I grabbed my bag to hold in my lap as I sat cross-legged on the pillow. I gripped my bag to
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