The Witch Is Back Read Online Free PDF Page A

kind of castle/cabin hybrid and the roofs each curved up slightly at the ends like a mischievous mustache.
    I’d never seen any place like it in my life.
    Then again, I wasn’t sure if anyone outside of the witching community had seen anything like it, either. After leaving the airport, we’d ventured about a half hour outside of the Denver area before the van began to slowly crawl uphill and into the mountains. The last fifteen minutes of driving had been devoid of other cars and houses. With thickets of woods surrounding us on all sides, it was clear that we were alone out here.
    Asher whistled out loud as he took in the grounds. “Dad used to show us pictures from his summer camps, and they didn’t look anything like this,” he said, as Miss Peggy pulled up and around the circular driveway. “His cabins were practically falling apart.”
    â€œThis place looks like a freaking resort,” Jasmine blurted out.
    â€œHe said they’d go hiking in the woods and have to pitch these tents—” Asher continued his trip down his father’s memory lane.
    â€œIf I’d known Brighton was like this, I might’ve come sooner,” I murmured, taking in the scenery in front of me.
    â€œDad said they taught him how to boil stinging nettles and eat them for dinner. Said it tasted like soggy salad.”
    â€œI have a feeling we won’t be eating stinging nettles here,” I said, shooting him a grin. I hadn’t heard Asher talk about either of his parents much over the last few months, so it was nice to hear him bringing up his dad now. Sometimes I even forgot that he’d lost his mom and dad a few months before Samuel Parris had killed my mom. That I wasn’t the only one who was hurting.
    Sometimes our own personal grief had a way of blinding us from the pain that others were going through. I made a mental note to ask him more about it later. Right now I was in utter awe.
    Listening to our banter, Miss Peggy turned and smiled with pride. “Sounds like your dad went to a mortal camp growing up,” she said. “Brighton’s a different beast entirely. Since the location and its inhabitants are hidden to the outside world by magic, there’s no chance that nonwitching people will find it. Attendees can use magic with impunity here, without having to worry about being caught. And that means there are no boundaries to what you’ll find on campus. If your imagination can come up with it, it can—and probably does—exist at Brighton.”
    As we watched from the van, kids and their parents unpacked cars around us and wandered the grounds. People used spells to transport their bags into the enormous main cabin while others showed off tricks they’d learned to their friends. All the faces were new to me and the tingling in my stomach that I’d had on the plane started to come back. Everyone looked so happy to be there. Adults welcomed kids as they entered the main cabin. Campers approached each other, exchanging hugs and talking excitedly.
    It was clear they all had their cliques, those they’d hung out with in summers past. And not just within their individual covens, but it seemed like everybody knew each other. To them, I was no one. A stranger. But that would change . . . it always did. Even if it didn’t though, I had my own clique with me, so it’s not like I was on my own or anything.
    â€œCome on, guys,” I said, opening the van door and stepping outside. I sucked in a deep breath of fresh air and then let it out slowly. God, it smelled great here. Like it hadn’t been totally polluted by the rest of humankind yet. It sort of reminded me of my family’s cabin, the one we’d retreated to when the Parrishables had come after us. Only, this appeared to be the MTV Cribs version. Less rugged and cozy, more hidden luxury.
    Turning back to the others, I flashed them an encouraging look and then