Read Online Witch's Brew - Spellspinners 1 (Spellspinners of Melas County) by Heidi R. Kling - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Heidi R. Kling
Tags: Young Adult Fiction
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Congression law. The entire Spellspinning community would be involved. Believe me”—Mom’s face faded from rage-red to ghost-white—“you do not want to stand trial before the Congression.”
“If we lose our magic, there will be no Congression. No law. Don’t you understand what I’m saying? I know what’s happening now. What Camellia meant during the coven prayer when she said, ‘Our Transition year.’ We’re going to be transitioning back into humans? Transitioning into a powerless community?”
“Humans might not possess otherworldly powers, Lily, but they aren’t exactly powerless.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No. I don’t. We’ve always lived among humans; some of my best friends are humans. Even if we lost this,” she said, holding her glowing palms in the air, “would it really be all that bad?”
“That bad?? Mom, this is all I know.”
“Maybe you should know more then.”
I shook my head, completely frustrated. Why wasn’t she fighting for our magic?
“Maybe because I’m tired, Lily. Maybe because I’m sick of fighting. Sick of trying to repair something that can never be mended.”
Basil and mint and clover, sweet garden earth perfumed the air. Making our argument seem less scary, more organic. It was natural to fight with your mom. It was natural not to want to lose something you love.
I wouldn’t lose my magic the way I lost my dad.
Not without a fight.
“You’ve tried before then? To make peace with the warlocks?”
“Too many times to count.”
“And nothing worked?”
“Lily.” She shook her head sadly. “You can’t make peace unless both parties are interested.”
“Then what’s this riddle about the broken magic man? Here.” I handed her the origami rose. “I think it might be the warlock I met—Logan. Mom. Say something.”
She chose her words the way she picks ripe apples off our tree. Carefully, methodically. “Did you see a mark on him? That looked like your amulet?”
“I don’t know, I mean, it burnt his hand. And my chest. We were more concerned with putting it out and easing the pain than noting the shape.”
She stared at my chest. My heart. The spot where my amulet hung, protecting me.
“Mom, it’s okay. It’s here.”
She fingered my amulet like it was poisoned. “What is this ?”
Finally, she looked at me the way she had on my sixteenth birthday, when she gave me the amulet—a strange expression of fear mixed with the slightest glimmer of hope. “This isn’t your great-grandmother’s amulet. The warlock switched it.”
Now I was the startled one. “No way. He couldn’t have. I was right there the whole time…”
But she wasn’t listening. I saw her fists clench and felt her fury rage within her. The rich dirt under our feet began to tremble. Her voice sharpened into an accusational blade. “This is Jacob’s doing. He knew you were wearing the amulet.”
Grey clouds moved too fast over our heads, trying to cover the sun. The ground shook harder. I had to calm her down. “Mom. No. You’re wrong. This is my necklace.” I shook my head. “How could Logan have switched it? I was right there, watching…”
Trying to ignore the thickening fog, the vibrating earth beneath our feet, I re-played the scene in my mind’s eye. When could he have done it? And how? He was only a Cerulean like me. He couldn’t transform a pebble into a precious indigo stone. There was no way.
Unless Logan was lying.
Unless he had lured me to sleep. That was the only way he could have made a replacement.
“I guess it’s a possibility,” I admitted. “But you still don’t want to start an earthquake.”
Iris’ jaw set firm. “There’s only one way to know for sure.” Carrying the necklace like it was a dead newt—simultaneously useful and foul—she dangled it over the birdbath.
Instantly, the ground stopped shaking. But then the wind picked up, as she channeled a different goddess’s energy.
When the amulet touched the
“If we lose our magic, there will be no Congression. No law. Don’t you understand what I’m saying? I know what’s happening now. What Camellia meant during the coven prayer when she said, ‘Our Transition year.’ We’re going to be transitioning back into humans? Transitioning into a powerless community?”
“Humans might not possess otherworldly powers, Lily, but they aren’t exactly powerless.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No. I don’t. We’ve always lived among humans; some of my best friends are humans. Even if we lost this,” she said, holding her glowing palms in the air, “would it really be all that bad?”
“That bad?? Mom, this is all I know.”
“Maybe you should know more then.”
I shook my head, completely frustrated. Why wasn’t she fighting for our magic?
“Maybe because I’m tired, Lily. Maybe because I’m sick of fighting. Sick of trying to repair something that can never be mended.”
Basil and mint and clover, sweet garden earth perfumed the air. Making our argument seem less scary, more organic. It was natural to fight with your mom. It was natural not to want to lose something you love.
I wouldn’t lose my magic the way I lost my dad.
Not without a fight.
“You’ve tried before then? To make peace with the warlocks?”
“Too many times to count.”
“And nothing worked?”
“Lily.” She shook her head sadly. “You can’t make peace unless both parties are interested.”
“Then what’s this riddle about the broken magic man? Here.” I handed her the origami rose. “I think it might be the warlock I met—Logan. Mom. Say something.”
She chose her words the way she picks ripe apples off our tree. Carefully, methodically. “Did you see a mark on him? That looked like your amulet?”
“I don’t know, I mean, it burnt his hand. And my chest. We were more concerned with putting it out and easing the pain than noting the shape.”
She stared at my chest. My heart. The spot where my amulet hung, protecting me.
“Mom, it’s okay. It’s here.”
She fingered my amulet like it was poisoned. “What is this ?”
Finally, she looked at me the way she had on my sixteenth birthday, when she gave me the amulet—a strange expression of fear mixed with the slightest glimmer of hope. “This isn’t your great-grandmother’s amulet. The warlock switched it.”
Now I was the startled one. “No way. He couldn’t have. I was right there the whole time…”
But she wasn’t listening. I saw her fists clench and felt her fury rage within her. The rich dirt under our feet began to tremble. Her voice sharpened into an accusational blade. “This is Jacob’s doing. He knew you were wearing the amulet.”
Grey clouds moved too fast over our heads, trying to cover the sun. The ground shook harder. I had to calm her down. “Mom. No. You’re wrong. This is my necklace.” I shook my head. “How could Logan have switched it? I was right there, watching…”
Trying to ignore the thickening fog, the vibrating earth beneath our feet, I re-played the scene in my mind’s eye. When could he have done it? And how? He was only a Cerulean like me. He couldn’t transform a pebble into a precious indigo stone. There was no way.
Unless Logan was lying.
Unless he had lured me to sleep. That was the only way he could have made a replacement.
“I guess it’s a possibility,” I admitted. “But you still don’t want to start an earthquake.”
Iris’ jaw set firm. “There’s only one way to know for sure.” Carrying the necklace like it was a dead newt—simultaneously useful and foul—she dangled it over the birdbath.
Instantly, the ground stopped shaking. But then the wind picked up, as she channeled a different goddess’s energy.
When the amulet touched the
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