Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
“You’re doing it,” I whisper, unable to keep the excitement out of my voice.
Kat opens her eyes and gasps as the butterflies fly toward her and circle her head. She looks like a goddess or a queen, with them her moving crown.
Then they delicately land on her head, her shoulders, her arms, their wings occasionally opening but content to stay in place.
“Look at you,” I say in awe. “Queen of the butterflies.”
“Vlinders,” she says breathlessly.
Yes. My vlinder.
She giggles joyfully, spinning around with her arms out, the butterflies sticking to her like glue.
She truly has stupendous power, I think. All those years of having to hide it, being afraid to show it, and it’s finally given a chance to breathe.
How powerful she could become.
How powerful we could become if our magic were to combine.
Heat creeps through my veins at the thought.
“Kat,” I say as she coaxes the butterflies to leave and watches them fly off. “Would you be interested in a little after-hours project with me?”
Her blue eyes meet mine, startled. “After hours?”
“A secret ritual. Here, with me in the dark.”
There’s someone I’d like to talk to.
Chapter 12
Kat
The rain held off until I put Snowdrop inside her stall, coming down in torrents while I groomed the sweat from our ride off her. I’ve always thought of myself as an elemental witch, given the power I have with fire or wind, but lately, I’m starting to think that I may have some influence over the weather directly. So far, it hasn’t rained during my rides to and from the school, always just before or after.
Still, I have to run across her paddock to the house, and I’m soaked by the time I get inside.
“Heavens,” Famke says as I shuck off my coat. “You almost missed it.”
“Almost,” I say, looking around. The house has a feeling of contentment and peace with the fire roaring in both the hearth and the sitting room. “Did my mother go out?”
“Ja,” Famke says, heading back into the kitchen. “She went to see Dr. Fielding.”
“Is she okay?” I ask, quickly undoing the laces on my boots.
“She wasn’t eating, so I made her,” Famke says, sounding more annoyed than concerned, which is a good sign. “She will waste away to nothing if she doesn’t eat. As if my food isn’t good enough.”
“Your food is wonderful, Famke,” I tell her. “You know she’s never been the same since my father died.”
“Ja, ja,” she says with a sigh and jerks her chin at me. “Your mother may not be here, but I am. Go take a bath, get into some clean clothes, and I’ll get supper going.”
I do as she says, taking a long hot bath and getting into my tea gown. By the time I come out into the sitting room, my mother is sitting by the fire. I hadn’t heard her, but I knew she’d come in. I could tell by the way the house tensed up, like all the air was sucked out of it.
“Katrina,” she says. She’s in the rocking chair, and she gestures to the leather chair beside her, the one my father always used to sit in every evening with his drink.
My heart wrings at the thought.
I sit down beside her, enjoying the warmth of the fire on my skin. With autumn in full swing, the nights are getting cold. “How are you? Famke said you went to the doctor?”
“It was just a checkup,” she says dismissively. “Tell me about your day at school. The one teacher you always remember.”
My cheeks go hot, and I face the fire, hoping I can blame it on the flames. “It was good. In my mimicry class, I learned to steal one of my classmates’ abilities and use them.”
Her eyes widen, her hands clenching in her lap. “You did what?”
“Only for a moment. His ability was psychometry. Where you can touch objects and gain foresight. Unfortunately, the only thing I was able to touch that gave me any foresight was my pencil. It told me I would lose it later. Guess what? I did. Still don’t know what happened to it.”
“Dangerous,” she mutters, shaking her head, “to remember such things.” Then she exhales heavily and gives me a tepid smile. “Dangerous, but…I’m also very proud of you. I never thought you would have such potential. Never dreamed of it. Never seemed possible that you could become a greater witch than me.”
That’s because Papa made me hide it from you, I think. “I wouldn’t say that. Nothing too magical about knowing I was going to lose a pencil. But I think I’m getting there. In time.”
“You will.”
I cough. “Thank you. See, I wanted to talk to you about something. Crane—Professor Crane—he asked for my help performing a ritual next week. It would take place at midnight, so it would be after hours. I was wondering if I could help.”