The Witch Collector Part I Read Online Free PDF Page B

collar of his white shirt. Leather cords circled his neck, one holding an opaque stone of the lightest blue.
    He cupped the talisman at his throat and smiled. The menu sailed into the air, folding into the shape of a bird as it rose. It flew up to the streetlights and down to settle on Shelley’s curls. She swatted at it and the paper bird took off once more, only to land on my shoulder.
    â€œWhat’s your name?” Miro asked in the same low, teasing tone as before. His top lip raised in a natural sneer.
    The paper bird flapped its wings against my hair. I slowly raised my hand to my shoulder, and the bird hopped on it. When I lowered my arm, it perched daintily on my index finger. “Breeda,” I said, croaking out the word. My throat felt dry.
    He took a step closer. “Well, Breeda ,” he said, “show us what you’ve got.”
    â€œAll right, Miro. Leave the poor girl alone,” Shelley warned. “We’ve got to get inside.”
    Miro took another step toward me. His eyes looked black, the color of coals, but that could have been a trick of the light. “Show us some magic,” he demanded.
    I swallowed. “I can’t.”
    â€œYou can, but you won’t.”
    A woman’s voice called into the night. “Shelley?”
    â€œSeriously, Miro,” Shelley said, the name becoming a threat. “We need to go.”
    He didn’t turn, but stayed completely still, watching me. “Well?”
    I wanted to drop a rainstorm on his head. I wanted to send a raging gust of wind to blow the smirk from his face. I wanted to do something . Every bit of me yearned for it.
    The bird lifted off my finger and floated upward, toward the streetlamp. It flittered above our heads and circled once before dropping a gray bomb onto Miro’s shoulder. The poop splattered when it hit his shirt, dripping down his chest.
    He doubled over, the sound of his surprised laughter filling the alley. “Nice one!” he managed to get out.
    My throat was too tight for any laughter to escape. Had I done that? It didn’t make sense. Opening things was my gift. It had to be. I’d helped my mother with the door. No one had more than one gift. It was impossible.
    Shelley grabbed Miro’s arm and tugged. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” she said, obviously sensing an opportunity. Miro saluted me with his free hand and then took off with the others, running around the corner of the small park, toward Belladonna’s. The two boys disappeared around the fence, but Shelley turned at the last minute and winked at me.
    She must have done that with the bird. It had to have been her. But hadn’t I just seen her manage fire?
    The menu at my feet looked completely normal, not a wrinkle or stain on it. I picked it up with trembling hands and shoved it in my pocket. There was no way I was going back into that restaurant. Their magic still thrummed through my body, waves of hot and cold coating me in a film of chilled sweat. I stumbled toward the garden’s street entrance, a deep, sharp pain slicing into my diaphragm with each breath. Then I fell onto the gate, curled my hands over the cool iron bars, and puked.
    â€œHelp,” I said, choking on the word. No passersby could hear me, and what would I do if someone did? I couldn’t explain it. I tried inhaling and exhaling like my mom had explained, but the world still spun, dizzying me, and I saw stars.
    â€œThat one belongs to us,” Brandon said, pointing at a star just south of Pisces. We lay in our sleeping bags, shivering. At fifteen, we’d outgrown them, but hadn’t gotten around to asking for new ones.
    â€œHow are some stars so much brighter?” I wondered aloud.
    â€œMaybe other people don’t see it that way,” Brandon murmured. “Maybe it’s shining just for us.”
    I’d just shut my eyes, about to drift into sleep to the sounds of the forest at night,