Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 137871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 689(@200wpm)___ 551(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 689(@200wpm)___ 551(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
“Oh, okay. We’re doing this old school.”
Adriel glanced over her shoulder, already rummaging through the cabinets. “That’s the only school I know.”
The next hour resembled a Disney montage with dark notes of Grimm and a shortage of fairy dust. Those little pixies in Sleeping Beauty made it look so easy. The reality was an underwhelming mess.
After Adriel mixed the flour and egg on the table, Dane rolled out the dough. Juniper washed the tomatoes and chopped them into chunks. Once they were on the stove, she grabbed her notes.
It couldn’t be that hard. She’d made fire before. Just never on a gas stove. Time to concentrate and not blow up the house.
“Maybe we should put Ruth outside.”
Dane dug through the drawer for a knife. “Ruth’s fine. You’re not using the gas. You’re using your mind. Just try.”
Juniper stared at the burner where the pot for the tomatoes and a pot of water sat. Without gas or wood, she would have to hold the flame herself, all while maintaining the constant weight of the protection spell she’d been carrying since they left the woods.
“Maybe we should just use the stove.”
“You’ve got this.” Dane nudged her toward to range. “Just focus and say the right words.”
She grimaced, her attention on the base of the empty pot. She held up her palms, embarrassed when they shook. The added pressure of having an audience made the chance of screwing this up all the more embarrassing.
With a trembling breath, she whispered, “Insignia.”
Nothing happened. Not even a spark. She doubled her focus and tried again.
“Insignia. Damn it. It’s not working. Insignia!” Frustrated, she dropped her hands and rose to her full height. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”
Adriel and Dane came to the stove to look at the boring sight. “Maybe you’re missing something.” Dane inspected the surface and pots. “On the farm, you had all the elements, remember?”
He was right. The tomatoes were of the earth, and there was water in the pasta pot, but they were still missing a few crucial ingredients. How had she overlooked something so simple? This was Magick 101. “I need an offering for air and fire.”
“You’re making the fire.”
“Oh, right.” She was not good at this. “Then a feather. Something to represent air. There has to be an offering.”
“Wouldn’t the air we’re breathing be enough?” Adriel asked.
“I’m not sure.”
They went outside to look for a feather. Dane searched the hedges while she and Adriel searched the driveway. “Can’t you manifest something?”
“I can try.” Juniper closed her eyes and stepped out of her shoes, pressing her bare feet into the grass. Once she felt grounded, she envisioned the universe providing what she needed.
“Will this work?” Adriel held up a long feather.
“Holy crap,” Dane said, his shock mimicking Juniper’s. “Did you do that?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll braid it into your hair, so this element is always with you.”
Juniper smiled and nodded, feeling not only supported by the elements but also by her friends.
Adriel sectioned off a thin strand of hair and got to work. A shiver skipped down her spine when Adriel’s breath teased her cheek. Juniper froze, remembering when an immortal had been that close and ripped into her.
“Did I hurt you?”
“N-no.” Adriel would never hurt her. She truly believed that now.
When she tied the braid off, the feather secured and hanging over Juniper’s shoulder, she stepped back and admired her work. “There. Now, you’ll always have it with you.” The braid and feather slid through her tapered fingers, and she smiled. “Pretty.”
Juniper ducked her gaze and mumbled a thank you, unsure why her face was suddenly hot. “Let’s try this again.”
They crowded her as she faced the stove.
“I need a little space.”
She took a deep breath and channeled Aether, the primordial god of light. “Insignia.”
Adriel gasped, and Dane laughed when a little flame came to life, but it quickly disappeared.
“Shit.”
“It’s okay. It’s okay. Try again.”
Juniper breathed deep and squared her shoulders, focusing hard on the base of the pot. “Insignia!”
They cheered as a small flame blazed but then quickly flickered out as if frightened by their excitement.
“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” It was as if her magick wasn’t holding. “When my aunts did big spells, they would sometimes put their magick in other objects or borrow energy from other witches.”
“Where are we getting another witch?”
She looked over her shoulder at Dane. “We’re not.” She needed something she could charge, something that could sustain its shape while the fire burned. “I’ve got it!”
She rushed out the back door without explanation. Dropping to her knees, Juniper used a stick to dig a hole near the fence where no one walked. Navigating the earthworms and roots, she dug until the loose soot transformed into a damp clay.
She pried a collection of geodes from the earth and then banged them on the walkway.