Witch's Brew - Spellspinners 1 (Spellspinners of Melas County) Read Online Free PDF Page B

evaporated into the air.
    “Cool,” Orchid said, watching them float away.
    “Thanks.” I grinned widely. Everything worked better in the water.
    Golden electric circuits danced between my palms as I created a new orb. Bigger, and more powerful than anything I’d created before. The ball glowed in my hands like a miniature star.
    “Ready?”
    Orchid braced herself, eyeing the ball. I reached over my shoulder and threw it as hard as I could. It whizzed over Orchid’s shoulder, zipped through the air and slammed into the cliff. We heard a rumble. Soft and then louder. I watched in disbelief as a dump truck’s worth of red clay crumbled to the sand below. “Avalanche! Girls, look out!”
    We scurried for safety.
    Camellia raised her arms, channeling the sun’s energy. Fingers glowing with magic, she sent the energy back toward the avalanche; soon the red clay clods scurried back together and crawled back up the cliff like an army of red ants. As if nothing had ever happened.
    But we all knew something had.
    My Mistress looked at me with flashing indigo eyes. “Lily. I’d like to speak with you after practice.”
    I nodded.
    “Privately,” she said.
     
    Logan
    Logan awoke with an aching head.
    It had been a fitful night dreaming of a witch called Lily. Every evening since he first saw her, he snuck back to the grove to look for her, but so far hadn’t caught so much as a glimpse.
    But he did have her stone. And it was affecting him in ways he didn’t understand yet. He was seeing things, thinking about his past, and wondering things about warlock mythology that had never occurred to him before. It was as if he was slowly waking up from a daze.
    The witch’s amulet lay cool in his palm, indigo light creating a rainbow of purples on his ceiling. The one so similar to his, the one Logan had worn since he landed on the steps of the Warlock Academy when he was about four years old. No one knew his exact age. He came with no birth certificate, no letter, and no clue as to his true identity.
    The only clue was the stone around his neck.
    Father took him in, he claimed, not knowing if Logan would be talented in the dark arts; five was the age when warlocks exhibited whether they possessed magical instincts. Fearing Father’s oversensitive temper, Logan had never dared look into his natural origin as he adapted to life at the Academy.
    Lately, Logan wondered more and more who his biological parents were. And whenever he hinted as much to Jacob, he was reminded how ill-equipped they must have been to raise him if they had to abandon him on a stranger’s doorstep. And as a warlock, Logan was likewise poorly equipped to face the human world alone.
    Humans are fragile. Nothing protects them. But here, son, you have me. You have your brothers fighting for you. Protecting you. Forget about the humans. You are beyond that now.
    “So my parents were humans?” he’d asked.
    “I know nothing about them. Only that they didn’t want you and left you here with me.”
    He stopped asking questions about his past; it was just too painful to be reminded over and over that he was unwanted by anyone other than his warlock Master. But he never stopped wondering.
    And now this. A witch wearing an amulet identical in color to his own. What could it mean?
    He had to see her again.
    Last week he would have been willing to bring her down in battle, and now? The thought of her with even one bruise on her ivory skin enraged him. Had she put some sort of spell on him, or was it their mixed energies? Whatever it was, he had to get a grip.
    Logan’s childhood bed was too small; his legs hung off the edge. The red painted walls were bare, save for one framed poster—of his childhood hero Bruce Lee, with his fists raised to strike. He was never allowed to watch any TV or movies except for traditional martial arts films, so in a way, he’d grown up with him.
    Logan clearly remembered standing in front of his black edged mirror practicing that