Trial by Fire (Covencraft Book 1) Read Free Page A

vanilla, mint. She had, in fact, worn no perfume at all.
    Paris felt his magic stir inside him, even before he called on it, almost like it was sitting up and paying attention as soon as he began mixing ingredients. He finished adding what he wanted to the mortar and then started grinding with the pestle - short, firm, counterclockwise movements until he got the fine powder he wanted. He thought about the unknown witch as he did, thought about how Hannah always referred to a ‘she’ or a ‘her’ and how Hannah was not very often wrong. He also considered the magic they could sense being used - distorted, disorganized, sharp and quick. Powerful but immature. Then, he thought about finding her, their lost unknown witch, and offering her a place in their Coven.
    When he was satisfied with the powder, Paris stepped over to the map on the table, cradling the mortar in his hands. Looking down at the map, he scooped up the fine dust in his fist and then, putting his intent - his magic - behind it, blew it into the air above the map.
    It hung, suspended in the air, a delicate cloud of dark grey each particle seemingly stopped for a moment in time.
    Then, it began to move.
    The cloud pulsed, undulated and swirled slowly like a long, powerful snake. It curled and coiled a meter above the map, becoming dense and then spreading out again. He could feel the magic in his head, feeding the motion - powering it, fueling it - a small, slight tug at the front of his brain. Then, like a string being plucked, it vibrated sharply and froze for another moment before collapsing in on itself, pulling together into a tight, dense knot and then funneling down to the map. He smelled a twinge of burning paper and a fine tendril of smoke lazily curled up from a corner of the map where a small, pinprick hole burned black.
    “There you are,” he breathed.
    Callie returned to the kitchen behind him and he glanced over, his eyes meeting hers.
    “I don’t even know why I bother sitting around wondering if your magic is going to work. It always works.”
    He knocked on the table three times in automatic reflex. “You’ll jinx it.”
    “You don’t even believe in jinxes,” she replied, bending over and holding her hair back so she could study the map.
    Callie was right, Paris didn’t believe in jinxes, but he’d had those reflexes drilled into him just the same, like people who toss salt over their shoulder after spilling it without knowing why.
    “Hmm, not too far away. We could be there by tomorrow.”
    “We?” he asked, grabbing a dishcloth from the counter and wiping his hands.
    She grinned. “I love the smell of a road trip.”
     
     

Chapter 3
     
    Jade felt like she should have one of those signs they hang in construction sites or industrial plants.
    Days Without Incident: 5.
    A full five days without any exploding bulbs, leaping flames, scorched cabinets or singed countertops.
    It was like sitting around waiting for your next hiccup. The body knows something’s amiss and produces a strange, sick feeling in the gut, but it’s still impossible to predict exactly when it might all go wrong. You just knew that it would.
    Jade was too pragmatic to be optimistic. Despite the fact that yesterday night she had almost convinced herself she was having a nervous breakdown and not really suddenly setting things on fire with her mind, there was still a small voice inside her that whispered, you know exactly what you’re doing .
    Even if she didn’t know how she was doing it.
    But still, she had made it an entire five days without anything happening and that made her more nervous instead of less.
    She decided to make a half pot of coffee to settle her nerves. It didn’t matter that it was early evening. Contrary to most people, caffeine didn’t rile Jade up and she instead found the ritual soothing. Toss old grounds, rinse permanent filter, dump old coffee, rinse pot. Fill with water, grind beans, pour into filter.
    The first snap-hiss of