Cresent Prophecy by Axelle Chandler (great reads TXT) 📕

themselves. It can help keep focus if they’re not good at instinctual magic.”

“So are there any grand master of witches?” I asked. “You said true masters need no physical aids, but then you mentioned complicated spells needing them. Is there someone like that? Like a Jedi master?”

“No, not that I know of. I don’t think there ever has been, to be honest. It’s certainly possible, but it would take more than a lifetime to learn all there is to know about witchcraft.”

“So it’s about the path, not the destination?”

“Exactly.”

“It’s so philosophical.”

Making a face, I flopped back onto my back and stared up at the branches of the hawthorn. I bet Carman had enough time to perfect her craft…unlike me. A thousand years compared to four months’ worth of fumbling in the dark. Whoopee.

“All I need right now is to find a way to stop Carman,” I said, voicing my concerns.

“Sure, but everythin’ else is important, too.”

“All that other stuff can come later. Preferably when I’m not dead.”

“It’s also about handlin’ the amount of power rushin’ through you,” she scolded. “I know that even with your lack of skill, you’re more powerful than me, but you need to slow down. You might think that it’s kids’ stuff, but you can’t dive headfirst into a battle with a witch like her. Your magic could overwhelm you, and before you know it…” She raised an eyebrow.

Before I knew it, I would be a lifeless husk.

“Yeah, I know…” I sat up and started picking leaves out of my hair.

“You’re arrogant,” she said with a pout.

“Hang on! I never said—”

“Bein’ a witch is a lifelong commitment. It’s who you are. You can’t just pick and choose. There are rules.”

“It’s who I’ve been for the last four months,” I shot back. “There’s twenty-seven years of normalcy in there, don’t forget.”

“Still not an excuse.”

“Then show me,” I said, gesturing at her. “Show me what a real witch looks like.”

“A real witch knows restraint…and to not bite when baited.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing she was right. I was being too hasty, and being a right pain in the rump, to boot. I was desperate to arm myself in the face of the prophecy and the little devil on my shoulder named Carman, and boy, was it showing.

“I know you’re not tellin’ me everythin’,” Lucy said, making me pause. “And that’s okay. I know I didn’t give you much reason to trust me, Skye, but I will. You’ll see.”

I nodded. “Then let’s slow down and start again. At the beginning. Show me the kids’ stuff. Play dough, paper scissors, and all.”

Lucy smiled and nodded. “Lesson one. Meditation.”

I groaned, and my head flopped forward. “Is it playtime yet?”

“Patience, grasshopper.”

Chapter 15

Lazing back in the floral armchair, I kicked my feet up onto the footstool and reached for another chocolate biscuit.

“You’ve eaten the whole packet,” Boone said, giving me the evil eye from across the room.

“So?” I raised an eyebrow. “You worried I’m going to get fat? Because I’m not. They say the first place you put on weight is your hips, ass, and boobs. I wouldn’t mind bigger boobs.”

“Who’s they?”

He glanced at my chest, and I looked at him pointedly. “People.”

“It’s unhealthy to eat so many at once.”

“See this?” I held up my hand. “Talk to it.”

Turning back to the spell book, I ignored his pouting—he was totally annoyed I’d eaten all the biscuits before he could get one—and read over the page I was learning. Studying was a much easier task now I knew some of the basics. Thanks to Lucy, her crash course had unlocked some new pathways for me to explore.

One thing was becoming clearer as more pieces of the puzzle slotted into place. I’d been lucky with the magic I’d used so far. Super lucky. I couldn’t rely on the hawthorns or the Crescent legacy to carry me through the fight to come. Besieged on all sides…

A knock at the door startled me out of my reverie, and I sat up straight, and Boone lifted his head. Who would be calling at this hour?

The knocking intensified, and I shook myself off and answered it. Flinging open the door with a scowl, my expression faded into shock as I saw who it was.

“Mairead?” My mouth fell open.

The Goth girl was standing on the welcome mat, looking disheveled and panicked, a large suitcase beside her. Her clothes were rumpled, and there was blood on her hand when she lifted it to try to smooth her tangled hair back into place. But it was the fear in her eyes that chilled me to the bone.

“Skye,” she blurted. “I’ve got to warn you…”

I frowned and ushered her inside, dragging her suitcase into the hall behind us.

“What happened to you?” I asked as I closed the door, making sure it was locked.

Boone appeared in the hall, alarmed at the sight of the Goth girl.

“Mairead,” he said. “You look white as a sheet.”

“What are you doing here?” I went on, rubbing my hands up and down her arms. “Why aren’t you in Dublin?”

“They thought I was you!” she exclaimed, holding up the talisman I’d made for her. “They thought I was you! Why would they think that?”

I glanced at Boone, and so did Mairead, stopping in her tracks. Something bad had happened, and it had everything to do with my being a Crescent.

“Whatever you have to say, you can say it to both of us,” I coaxed.

“They said you’re a witch,” she went on, starting to babble. “They wanted to drain my… I mean your power and take your blood.”

My frown deepened, and I ushered her into the lounge room. Making her sit on the couch, I draped the throw rug over her shoulders and sat beside her.

“Slow down, and take a deep breath,” I murmured. “Tell us what happened. Don’t rush, you’re safe here.”

She sucked in a huge lungful of air, then let it out, her gaze focusing on Boone, then back to me.

“I was walkin’ back to the dorm after