Read Online Witch Magic (The Cindy Chronicles) by Rashelle Workman - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Rashelle Workman
Ads: Link
from long ago—careen across my mind. And I wonder if I could’ve done anything differently, something to prevent my demise. But as with any horrific event, my predicament is the culmination of many choices, each one pressing me forward to this fateful moment.
It all began six months ago…
I’d just changed into my periwinkle PJs and climbed into bed. My bedside table lamp still glimmered, casting shadows.
“ Diminius.” With the magic word, it went out.
I tucked my sheet and comforter under my chin, the way I like it, and was about to close my eyes when a tiny red light flicked on above my head.
“What?” Startled, I sat up and scooted toward my headboard. The light grew bigger and bigger. As it grew it moved toward the foot of my bed.
An irritated female voice spoke. “Cinderella, it’s time. Polonias can’t wait any longer. The land needs you. All of its inhabitants need you.” She sneezed and the rosy light became the outline of a woman around my age. She had brown hair and an eclectic taste in clothing.
Without thinking I pulled the comforter up past my nose. “ Revealith,” I whispered, hoping the magic would show me what she really was.
“Tut, t ut,” she quipped, then sneezed. “Knock it off with the magic. I’m allergic.”
That made me laugh. “You’re allergic to what? Magic?” She reeked of it.
“Well, yes. No need to be rude.” She tapped on the light blue lampshade next to my bed and it illuminated.
I choked back more laughter. “Sorry.”
The light around her diminished and she dropped lightly to my carpet. I let the comforter fall slightly. There didn’t seem to be anything malevolent about her. She was obviously some kind of witch, like me. Her fashion sense was a bit over the top, unlike me.
She smoothed out her outlandish bright green dress. The sleeveless bodice sparkled with different colored gems, and the tulle skirt pooled out around her like an overripe tutu. Her legs were covered in black and lime green striped stockings, and she wore pointed black heels. Atop her curly brown hair sat a green and black hat, not pointed but fluffy like an old-fashioned artist’s hat. In front was a lovely gold and lime colored butterfly. It looked real, and I almost reached out to touch, but held back. The woman was tall, around Snow’s height. Her eyelashes were lined in green jewels that matched her eyes.
“So what do you want?” I asked as I watched her reorganize herself.
She sniffed but said nothing, then stuck her hands to her sides like she intended to walk on a tight rope. She jumped. When she came back down, her feet landed on the carpet with a thud.
“ Twixit.” She jumped up again. Again her feet returned to the ground with a thud.
I was intrigued. Couldn’t help myself. She glanced at me from u nder her long, bejeweled lashes and jumped a third time.
“Oh, for the love of butterflies!” She stomped around in a circle and pulled at her thickly fluffed skirt. The funky black and green hat on her head danced around precariously. I thought it would fall off, but it didn’t.
“Is there something I can help you with?” I asked, trying to contain my giggles.
She huffed and said something, but I couldn’t understand her with her back to me. I watched her shoulders rise and fall. Then she turned. “Hi, I’m Quilla Templeton. Your fairy godmother. Maybe you remember me?” She stuck out one of fingerless gloved hands.
I got on my knees and moved toward the edge of the bed. “Um, Quilla, is it?”
She nodded, blowing her bangs off her forehead.
I took her hand. “You seem young for a fairy godmother.”
She rolled her eyes.
“It’s a title, Cinderella.” Her cheeks reddened. “I may be slightly older than you. We fairies age at a much slower rate than humans.” She pulled her hand away and stepped back.
“If you’re a fairy, where are your wings?” I didn’t mean to sound presumptuous, but fai ries were supposed
It all began six months ago…
I’d just changed into my periwinkle PJs and climbed into bed. My bedside table lamp still glimmered, casting shadows.
“ Diminius.” With the magic word, it went out.
I tucked my sheet and comforter under my chin, the way I like it, and was about to close my eyes when a tiny red light flicked on above my head.
“What?” Startled, I sat up and scooted toward my headboard. The light grew bigger and bigger. As it grew it moved toward the foot of my bed.
An irritated female voice spoke. “Cinderella, it’s time. Polonias can’t wait any longer. The land needs you. All of its inhabitants need you.” She sneezed and the rosy light became the outline of a woman around my age. She had brown hair and an eclectic taste in clothing.
Without thinking I pulled the comforter up past my nose. “ Revealith,” I whispered, hoping the magic would show me what she really was.
“Tut, t ut,” she quipped, then sneezed. “Knock it off with the magic. I’m allergic.”
That made me laugh. “You’re allergic to what? Magic?” She reeked of it.
“Well, yes. No need to be rude.” She tapped on the light blue lampshade next to my bed and it illuminated.
I choked back more laughter. “Sorry.”
The light around her diminished and she dropped lightly to my carpet. I let the comforter fall slightly. There didn’t seem to be anything malevolent about her. She was obviously some kind of witch, like me. Her fashion sense was a bit over the top, unlike me.
She smoothed out her outlandish bright green dress. The sleeveless bodice sparkled with different colored gems, and the tulle skirt pooled out around her like an overripe tutu. Her legs were covered in black and lime green striped stockings, and she wore pointed black heels. Atop her curly brown hair sat a green and black hat, not pointed but fluffy like an old-fashioned artist’s hat. In front was a lovely gold and lime colored butterfly. It looked real, and I almost reached out to touch, but held back. The woman was tall, around Snow’s height. Her eyelashes were lined in green jewels that matched her eyes.
“So what do you want?” I asked as I watched her reorganize herself.
She sniffed but said nothing, then stuck her hands to her sides like she intended to walk on a tight rope. She jumped. When she came back down, her feet landed on the carpet with a thud.
“ Twixit.” She jumped up again. Again her feet returned to the ground with a thud.
I was intrigued. Couldn’t help myself. She glanced at me from u nder her long, bejeweled lashes and jumped a third time.
“Oh, for the love of butterflies!” She stomped around in a circle and pulled at her thickly fluffed skirt. The funky black and green hat on her head danced around precariously. I thought it would fall off, but it didn’t.
“Is there something I can help you with?” I asked, trying to contain my giggles.
She huffed and said something, but I couldn’t understand her with her back to me. I watched her shoulders rise and fall. Then she turned. “Hi, I’m Quilla Templeton. Your fairy godmother. Maybe you remember me?” She stuck out one of fingerless gloved hands.
I got on my knees and moved toward the edge of the bed. “Um, Quilla, is it?”
She nodded, blowing her bangs off her forehead.
I took her hand. “You seem young for a fairy godmother.”
She rolled her eyes.
“It’s a title, Cinderella.” Her cheeks reddened. “I may be slightly older than you. We fairies age at a much slower rate than humans.” She pulled her hand away and stepped back.
“If you’re a fairy, where are your wings?” I didn’t mean to sound presumptuous, but fai ries were supposed
Similar Books
