Haunted Legacy: The Windhaven Witches Series by Carissa Andrews (classic books for 10 year olds txt) 📕

my mom, and hoping one day I will understand why they did what they did. The idea of him sitting down to write these pages brings tears to my eyes, but I know I can’t linger on them right now. I need more to go on so I can put him to rest.

Further in, his words begin to tighten, finding a purpose and resonating with me on a deeper level. The hairs on my arms stand on end and I know I’m on the right track.

Autumn,

If you’ve been reading the pages before now, I’m sure at this point, it’s pretty damn clear our family has a messed-up past. We have a lot to be thankful for, but in my opinion, even more to atone for. After your accident, I had hoped to save you from this life. I never knew just how bad it could be until then. Always looking over your shoulder, always wondering when your time would come due. Even without the kind of powers you and other family members possess, I know the day will come when the Inflexible One will require another sacrifice and it will have to come from me. When I’m gone, I worry about what will happen to you. Your memories may or may not come back and I know even if they do, you’re still not prepared to take on what lies ahead. The protections we had put in place are only bound to you as long as I’m alive. What happens if they come calling sooner rather than later? Your mother doesn’t want to hear it, but I need assurances you’ll be protected—be taught to protect yourself when I no longer can. In all honesty, I worry that there’s no way around this. Only time will tell. At least I can take solace in the fact that should it happen, you will be called home. Windhaven Academy is prepared to do what it must to teach you and keep you safe. It’s the best I can do for now.

Dad

Atone for? Sacrifice?

My eyebrows tug in and my heartbeat thumps loudly in my ears. I clearly skipped ahead a bit too far. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I try to calm my nerves. I need to find information about what Dad was doing. Even in his lucid, human state, he’s brought up the Inflexible One. I don’t know who this person is, but I’m getting the distinct impression if I don’t figure it out, there are far worse things coming for me.

Turning the page, I read the next entry.

Autumn,

I’ve begun to see the signs again. For the longest time, I had hoped that perhaps the Moirai had forgotten us. Or perhaps they had been sated by our desire to bind your gifts. But today, I found a red thread outside my bedroom door. At first, I didn’t think much of it, but it caught my eye. The moment I picked it up, I knew exactly what it was. There was power emanating from it that even I could feel and it was exactly like the ones I’d seen before your accident. I hope you never have to go through this sort of terror, my sweet girl. It’s time I put an end to this. The only question is…how?

I promise you, I’ll find a way.

Dad

I stare at the entry, my eyes locked on one word. Moirai.

Goosebumps flash across my skin and a creepy sense of deja vu envelops me. Wade and I were so close when we did our presentation weeks ago, practically tiptoeing around information tied directly to my own life.

The Moirai are the Three Fates—supernatural sisters who choose a person’s lifespan and, more importantly, when and how they die. One sister spins the thread of life, one measures it, and the final sister cuts the thread.

But why would they be after my family?

Shaking my head, I read it again and this time, something different stands out. Suddenly, images of my own findings tumble through my mind. Red threads have been following me since I moved to Windhaven—at grave sites and other locations. I had no idea they were really tied to something more. Something far bigger…

But what?

A terrible feeling twists in the pit of my being. This is what my dad was doing when he died. He was trying to appease the Fates somehow. And lost.

Terror washes over me and I drop my gaze to the journal. I can only hope he explains why. I flip to the last entry, searching for anything to help me illuminate the path ahead or give me an idea of the whereabouts his body. The final entry is longer than the rest and I hold my breath, reading his final words.

Autumn,

This could very well be my last entry. If it is, you should know there are certain things in this world that have been stacked against our family for generations. Our family’s powers aren’t normal. Conventional supernatural wisdom believes necromancy to simply be another ability, like shapeshifting or turning water into wine. Only, far more unique and rare. However, when you look closely at the lineage of necromancers, you will find they are all tied back to a single bloodline. Ours.

In our family grimoire, you will find family history if you ask it to reveal those secrets. The grimoire is more than a simple spellbook; it’s also an account of our legacy. But in case you have not discovered it, I will paraphrase here, because you need to know. Necromancy was a gift from the old gods. It was given to our family as a means to resurrect Apollo’s son, Asclepius. Before then, the ability didn’t exist. Originally, it was meant only for this purpose. It was never meant to continue onward. But once touched by a god, the effects can linger. Through the ages, the gift remained. At first, it was under the strict rule that it only be wielded by our family. So, no one else was allowed to attempt the magick of