Spells Trouble, Kristin Cast [books to read in a lifetime .TXT] 📗

instead of it filling her body with luminous energy, it was like a garden hose with a kink in it, and only trickles of power sluggishly moved up to her spine and hovered there with a little warmth, like someone pressed their hand to the small of her back.

She squeezed her eyelids more firmly together and focused, concentrating on the energy that was tantalizingly close. Drew a deep breath in as she called to her goddess. Freya, my goddess, help me. Strengthen me. Allow me to guide the energy of your earth.

Mercy felt the warmth along her spine expand a little, but there was no infilling of energy—there was no inrush of power. The pulse of the ley line had been replaced with something cold and strange and wrong.

Suddenly Xena hissed and began growling, a guttural, dangerous sound that wasn’t even recognizable as coming from the sweet, nosy feline Mercy had known her entire life.

Hunter gasped and cried, “Oh! Tyr! No!”

Mercy opened her eyes. Hunter sat beside her. They faced the tree, while their mother sat cross-legged in front of them with her back to the tree. Beside Abigail, Xena had turned to face the tree as well. The huge cat’s back was fully arched and her tufted ears flattened against her skull as she continued to growl menacingly.

The thick trunk of the mighty tree dripped with something disgusting—black and foul and thick. The center of the trunk quivered, like a horse trying to shake off a swarm of biting flies, but this was no horse. A snout pushed through the darkness and took form, melted wax becoming solid as it entered this world. Red eyes broke through the shuddering bark. The thing was huge—all sinew, matted fur, and claws. Its breath came in rapid pants as it pulled its body through the corrupted center of the tree. The fetid stench of it reached Mercy—thick with sulfur and rot. Mercy tasted bile as she gagged in revulsion and fear.

The creature looked directly at them and snarled, gnashing long, pointed teeth.

Five

Abigail surged to her feet. “Run!” she screamed and pushed her daughters back toward the darkness of the open field.

Hunter’s feet cemented to the ground. Her mother’s shoves only jarred her enough to make her dizzy. This wasn’t real. None of it.

Sealskin black liquid gushed from the tree, and spurted around the slick and matted fur of the giant wolf clawing its way into their world. It flashed in and out of focus, unstable as it tried to gain hold in this new realm. Its talons dug trenches in the grass and it bared its teeth and growled, wet nose sniffing the air. This was a nightmare, sixteen years of anxiety spilling out of Hunter’s subconscious and raining down on this made-up version of things to come.

Hunter reached out for Mercy. In any nightmare, she could grab hold of her sister and will herself awake. Emptiness met her fingers. Nothing but spring air and the guttural moans of the fanged beast. Hunter whirled around. The breeze tugged at the skirt of Mercy’s ivory dress as she followed their mother’s instructions and ran. But Mercy wouldn’t leave her. That’s never how it happened. Not in Hunter’s dreams and especially not her nightmares.

Mercy glanced backward and skidded to a halt. “Hunter!” she shrieked and focused her wide-eyed terror past her sister.

This was all too real. Hunter felt the monster behind her. Felt the rank air tighten and heard the otherworldly liquid slosh as the creature spilled into their realm. She couldn’t turn around, couldn’t force herself to move. This was supposed to be peaceful, magical, the beginning of years and years of happiness and light. What had she done to deserve this?

“Stay back, vile beast!” her mother roared over the steady crackle of the charged night air.

Hunter heard the beast’s heavy footsteps crack rotting apples and beat against the earth. She whirled around as her pulse battered her eardrums.

Abigail had gathered the white candle and held it in the air. “Athena, I call to you!” The wolf cowered and its ears pressed back against its wet coat. “Give me strength in battle!” Against the crackling wind Abigail scraped a match. It left behind a trail of sparking orange that ripped through the black sky like a tear in a page and doused the scene in orange light. Magic heard Abigail’s cry, but Athena hadn’t shown.

The beast’s image flickered as its gaze swung from the tree to the flaming arc and back to Abigail. It bared its wet teeth and stalked forward as the Goode witch pressed the flaming match against the candle’s wick. She gripped the wax pillar with both hands and held it in front of her. “Athena! I call to you, my goddess, my protector!” The flame shot skyward, illuminating their small space on earth.

The wolf’s top lip rippled with a growl as it sprang toward Abigail. It flashed in and out of focus as its giant paw struck out and swatted her aside. She slammed into the ground and crumpled like a rag doll.

Hunter reached out, her cries for her mother strangled by the cords of fear lining her neck. “Get away!” she finally managed as the creature prodded Abigail with his enormous muzzle.

Its ears flicked in her direction. It raised his massive head and blew out a burst of mucus-specked air. Hunter’s mouth went dry, her tongue turning to paste behind her teeth. The wolf’s lip curled. The magical light painted its teeth a shiny orange as he stepped over Abigail and charged at Hunter.

Mercy’s bare feet slapped the earth behind Hunter as she scrambled away. Hunter stumbled over fallen apples. Her arms flailed as her feet slid out from under her and she crashed onto the ground. As the beast lunged forward, Mercy wrapped her arm around Hunter’s chest and tucked herself behind her sister. Hunter squeezed her eyelids shut and held up her arms. This was the end for them both. A sob tore from her