The Witches of Merribay (The Seaforth Chronicles) Read Online Free PDF

blocking the sun. Occasionally a break would appear and I would see the sky.
    There were many mosquitoes; however, they never bothered me when I came to Maine. They always loved Zinnia, though. She constantly had to wear bug spray or she'd be covered in red, itchy bumps. I suppose they didn't like my blood.
    The smell of moss, pine , and wet earth filled my nostrils, smelling of rain to come. It was much different than walking in the sunny garden a half hour ago. How was it possible for the weather to change so?
    I couldn't help thinking that if I were to get lost out here, I had no water —just muffins and doughnuts. It wasn't like I could drink from a stream; I'd seen survival shows where that wasn't such a good idea. There could be a dead beaver upstream or something.
    But I guess I wouldn't starve, unless the hobos —or whoever or whatever took Ian's pastries from the gate—found me and stole them away.
    I let out a big sigh . He told me to walk straight back. At some point, I'd see a tree with ribbons and scarves tied to it. It would be there that I would wait.
    What was I even doing out here? What was I thinking? I bet if Gran knew I was out here , she'd flip. What if Ian was some sort of a madman and there was no Izadora out in these woods, and he just sent me out to feed a wild beast or coyotes? I knew there were coyotes; I could hear them at night—and it wouldn’t be muffins they’d want to eat, but me! Oh God. My heart sank.
    Gran had told me and Zinnia to stay out of the woods. No good would ever come of it. Why did I go against her wishes? I could answer that myself: because of Ian. And because Zinnia had already been out here. Several times, in fact.
    Ian seemed trustworthy, but how did I know that? I'm some naive girl who lost her dad on a hunting trip ; he'd just up and disappeared. Who's to say the same thing wouldn't happen to me?
    I ran into a small fallen branch that stuck up from the ground, tearing a light gash in my leg and making me say things my grandmother would have washed my mouth out for . Blood trickled down my leg, and I didn't even have anything to wipe it off with.
    I let out an even bigger sigh than before and almost sat down on a branch . Then I saw it: a short path. And beyond the path was a huge tree with many colors of ribbons.
    Traveling the short distance, I stood before the tree . It was something to be seen with all of its colorful scarves, ribbons, and ropes hanging from the branches. Some were braided and some were tattered, but all were colored.
    I could probably fit inside the big gaping hole that was set in its trunk. I knew I could and wouldn't mind trying it out some other time.
    I had meant to ask Ian why it would be decorated , but there had been no time. I had read about trees like this. The scarves were some sort of offering, but an offering to whom or what?
    I reached out and touched a silky deep purple scarf. It wasn't a cheap scarf, and I loved purple. As I was thinking of how pretty that would look wrapped around my own neck, a large black crow landed on the limb above my hand.
    It did not make a peep but just stared at me . It blinked a few times, but I never did. Slowly, I pulled my hand back. Thoughts of the big bird pecking my eyes out ran through my mind; I backed away.
    Staring into the eyes of the bird, I said, “Izadora? Is that you?”
    Laughing nervously, I stepped back even farther. Even though I had said it sarcastically, I half expected the bird to answer.
    After a while the black bird flew away, and I sat down with my back to the tree, the muffins and doughnuts in my lap. I wasn't about to touch any more of the scarfs.
    How long would I have to sit here? I looked at my watch: 11:31 a.m.
    Cool air mingled with old wood smells blew into my face . Who knew what I even sat upon?  Worms probably wriggled under my buttocks for all I knew. I had probably sat atop the black crow’s lunch.
    I closed my eyes for a few moments trying to go to my happy place,