Spells Trouble by Kristin Cast (mystery books to read .txt) 📕

completely normal—it was the breathing of the tree. Mercy felt the inhale and exhale against her skin in the stirring of air and a slight change of temperature. She was beginning to relax when nausea consumed her. It cramped her stomach and made her legs go weak—so weak that she suddenly dropped to her knees.

“Mag! What is it?” Hunter crouched beside her.

“She’s sick. She feels awful—like that time we went to Mexico with Abigail and we got the pukes from the water. Ugh, it’s terrible.” Mercy took her hand from the ailing tree and leaned forward, pressing her palms against the dirt at the base of the trunk, afraid she was going to actually throw up.

And worms writhed under her hands.

“Freya! Bloody buggering hell! That’s so disgusting.” She wiped her hands against her jeans as she frantically skittered backward on her knees.

Hunter shined her light down and shuddered. “They’re everywhere!”

Mercy stood and kept backing away. “I’m sorry. I can’t stay here. It’s sick. It feels—it feels. H, I’m gonna puke!” She rushed through the dangling boughs and staggered until she bent at the waist and heaved bile and tea all over the dirt road.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s not you. It’s the tree.” Hunter soothed as she held Mercy’s hair back. “Tell yourself that. Remember? Mom always said you had to remain separate from the plants and the earth and your green stuff, even as you listened to them.”

Mercy spat into the dirt and nodded, wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve. She handed Hunter her purse. “C-could you find the bottle of w-water in there for me?” Her voice trembled with her body and her mouth filled with bile as she tried not to puke again.

“Here, Mag.” Her sister broke the seal on the bottle and handed it to her. “Rinse out your mouth before you take a drink.”

Mercy did as she was told and then unbent slowly. “Sod it! I hate to puke!”

“Breathe with me, okay?”

She nodded and matched her sister’s breathing until the horrible sick feeling left her. “Thanks,” Mercy said. “I’m okay now.”

The two of them turned to stare back at the tree.

“They’re all sick, aren’t they?” Hunter spoke softly, almost as if she didn’t want the tree to hear.

Mercy took another drink of water and then nodded. “Yeah. I don’t think we need to cross the caution tape by the olive tree to be sure. The others are sick. That one has to be, too.”

Hunter began to pace. “But why? They’ve been healthy for generations—literally. Why now? What’s made this happen? What’s different?” Before Mercy could say anything Hunter continued, “Do you have a baggie or anything like that in that giant purse of yours?”

“Uh, yeah. I keep one of those compostable green baggies in there for when I wear those dangly turquoise earrings that get too heavy. Why?”

Hunter searched through Mercy’s purse until she found the baggie. “Got it! I’m going to go gather more of those dead leaves. You stay here. I don’t want you to get sick again. Hang on. BRB.” She hurried to the cherry tree and ducked inside its weeping boughs.

Mercy stared after Hunter, her mind whirring as it circled around and around, echoing her sister’s words. Why now? What’s changed? How could trees that have been healthy and thrived for generations suddenly sicken? Why now? What’s changed?

“Oh, Tyr! This is so damn gross!”

Hunter’s words drifted to her on the wind like a gift. Her sister reappeared as she rubbed her forefinger and thumb across the amulet that symbolized her god, Tyr, and Mercy felt a jolt of electric understanding.

He’s what’s different! Tyr, thought Mercy. No Goode witch in our history has ever chosen a god to follow—never until now—and now the trees are infested with parasites and dying.

The thought made Mercy dizzy. She wanted to shout down the words that whispered through her mind.

“Hey, are you still feeling sick?” Hunter hurried to her side.

Mercy nodded.

Hunter hooked her arm through Mercy’s. “Let’s get in the car.” Hunter opened the passenger’s door for her sister and helped her inside before climbing in behind the wheel. Then she turned in her seat to face Mercy. “We have to do something. Now. Like, tonight. A spell—maybe something protective? I dunno. Xena will help us figure it out.” Hunter’s words kept rolling from her, not giving Mercy a chance to speak. “Wait, no. How about a ritual? Like a repeat of the Beltane Ritual. You know, to make them all stronger. We could start here, and then—”

“You mean redo the ritual that killed Mom? Bloody hell, Hunter, think! It’s not like you to be so impulsive—so blind.”

“The world might be dissolving around us!” Hunter picked frantically at her nonexistent thumbnail, making it bleed. “Nothing is like me anymore. Nothing is like you anymore, either. This nightmare is our new norm, and we have to stop it.”

“Which is why we have to be extra careful,” Mercy insisted. “H, we have to figure out what’s really gone wrong. We can’t just throw spells and rituals at the trees. What if we choose wrong? What if we make it worse or even let another monster loose?”

Hunter breathed out a long sigh that sounded like a sob. “Okay. Okay. I hear you.” She shook herself like a cat coming in out of the rain. “But we can’t just sit around talking and researching. Mag, we have to act.”

“I know. I’m not saying we do nothing. All I’m saying is that we have to be smart and careful.”

Hunter sat up straighter. “I have an idea! Tomorrow I’ll go to that big nursery in Champaign.”

Mercy nodded. “World of Blooms.”

“Yeah, that’s it. I’ll take leaves from the trees and even a sample of those worms.” She shuddered. “Maybe there’s something mundane we can do to make them better.”

“And while you’re doing that Xena and I will be going through the old grimoires to research what kind of magic we need to use,” Mercy said.

“Yes. That’s our plan. Okay?”

“Okay. That means