Born Wicked: The Cahill Witch Chronicles, Book One: The Cahill Witch Chronicles, Book One Read Online Free PDF

itself in small-town affairs. They are more concerned with the looming threat of another war with Indo-China, which has settled the western half of America, or Spain, which has colonized the south. It’s Brother Ishida and the Chatham council that we have to be wary of. If they knew what we were, all their fatherly kindness would vanish in the blink of an eye. Young or old, they are united in their fervor to keep New England safe from witches.
I wouldn’t marry a member of the Brotherhood for all the money in the Brothers’ coffers.
“I remember Regina’s governess,” Maura says. She’s tearing her bread into bits instead of eating it. “She’s young. And very pretty.”
I search my memory but can’t come up with a face. We must have seen her at services, passed her occasionally in the street, but she was in town for only three months before Regina married.
“I met the other new member of the staff,” I announce. “Finn Belastra?”
“Ah, yes.” Father shakes his head. “I popped into the shop the other day and spoke with his mother. Marianne tells me the Brothers have been scaring half their customers away. Hoping to find something forbidden and shut them down, I expect. It’s a shame when it’s come to this, people afraid of books!”
Never mind people being afraid of girls . I interrupt him before he can get started. “Yes, but does Finn actually know how to garden?”
“He’s a very bright young man. Would have made a fine scholar,” Father says, which does not actually answer my question. He natters on about how Finn was supposed to go to university before his father died, and what a shame it is, and I’m sure Finn would be thrilled to know his mother’s been blabbing his business all over town.
I make polite replies as Father segues back into the importance of learning. I think he means to encourage us about the governess, but I’m the only one listening. Maura’s slipped a novel into her lap. Tess is amusing herself by making one of the candles on the wall sconce flicker. I give her a look, and she stops with a guilty smile. I shake my head and push my apple pie away, appetite lost.
After dinner, we’re free to do as we please. When Father’s away, occasionally we coax Mrs. O’Hare into joining us for games. Often we play at chess or draughts, though Tess is the reigning champion at both and Maura is a horrid loser. Tonight Father drifts back to his study. Maura climbs the stairs to her room with barely a word to anyone. That leaves Tess and me.
I follow my little sister into the sitting room. She settles at the piano, her fingers gliding gracefully over the keys. She’s the only one of us with enough patience to develop any real skill.
I kick off my slippers and lie on my back on the tufted cream sofa. Tess’s sonata washes over me. She used to play lively old folk ballads, and Maura would sing and play her mandolin. We’d push the furniture to the walls, and Mrs. O’Hare would come in and dance me around the room. The old songs were banned years ago, along with dancing and theater and anything else that smacks of the old days before the Brothers, when the witches were the ones in power. But the Brothers have become increasingly strict, and dancing isn’t worth the risk.
Tess’s fingers stutter and stop. “Are you still angry with me?” she asks.
“No. Yes.” If I don’t discipline her, who will? Father doesn’t know about the magic, and he mustn’t find out. Mother was convinced he wasn’t strong enough to handle it. She cited his weak chest, the cough that seems to leave him a little frailer each year. But it’s more than that, even if she couldn’t bring herself to say it outright. Father grumbles about the Brothers’ censorship and hides books in secret compartments all over the house, but that’s an easy sort of rebellion. I don’t think Mother believed he’d be strong enough to stand against them when it came to something that really mattered. Like us.
She loved