Spells Trouble Kristin Cast (a court of thorns and roses ebook free TXT) 📖

“I set the yellow candle in its place on the pentagram. It symbolizes the path I have chosen to follow and the god whose service I am in.”

Abigail lit the yellow candle, which Hunter placed on the boulder before walking toward Mercy as they completed the final line of their five-pointed star. She picked up the blue candle that waited there and turned to face their mother.

“And I set the blue candle in its place on the pentagram. It symbolizes the path I have chosen to follow and the god whose service I am in.”

Just as with Mercy, Abigail spoke the formal words before she lit the candle. “Speak, daughter, and name your god.”

“Tyr, the God of the Sky.”

“And which path will you walk with Tyr?”

Hunter’s voice was strong and sure. “I am a Cosmic Witch.”

Abigail lit the blue candle and bowed her head. “Welcome to The Path, Hunter Jayne Goode, Cosmic Witch and daughter of Tyr.”

Hunter grinned when she placed the final candle on the rock by her bare feet. She and Mercy exchanged excited looks, and then they focused on their mother, who had returned to the center of the pentagram and the baskets waiting there. She shook out three quilts, made two generations ago by their great grandmother. When the girls joined their mother, Xena padded into the pentagram, purring loudly. The three women, with Abigail’s familiar, sat in the center of the pentagram, marked by brightly burning candles, and wrapped the quilts around their shoulders.

From her basket, Abigail took out a stone bowl, carved with the triple moon symbol, and lit a charcoal cube, which she placed in the bowl and then sprinkled a mixture of herbs over. Instantly the smoldering herbs began filling the grassy area with fragrant smoke. She lit a piece of palo santo wood and wafted it over the three of them saying, “Incense and wood are purifiers. They change the energy around us and keep negativity at bay.”

The girls used their hands to move the smoke over and around them. Their mother placed the still-smoking stick in the burner with the herbal incense.

“And now we protect ourselves. I want you each to imagine a shield—a great, glowing shield. Close your eyes. Picture it.”

Mercy closed her eyes and imagined a huge round shield with a strong apple tree, much like the one in front of her, carved in the middle of it.

“Imagine it strapped to your back, so that nothing may harm you from behind.”

Mercy imagined that it wasn’t a quilt covering her back, but her shining shield.

“In your mind draw a circle around you, in which you are the center,” Abigail continued. “Repeat after me: This is my space.”

“This is my space,” the girls repeated together.

“I own this space,” Abigail intoned.

“I own this space,” they said.

“Good. Now we ready ourselves to be vessels through which the energy of the earth will flow and into the gatekeeper, strengthening our tree and keeping the gate to the Norse Underworld closed.

“Breathe with me, deeply, in and out, on a four count.”

Their mother led them in several deep, cleansing breaths.

“Clear your mind of thoughts. Then acknowledge your feelings, and as you do don’t question why you’re feeling something. Simply breathe in with acceptance of the feeling and on your next breath out, release that feeling.”

Mercy cleared her mind and then drew in a deep breath and immediately was filled with nervousness. She didn’t try to decipher her nerves. Instead she thought, hello nerves—I feel you—I acknowledge you—and now I release you! She let out a long breath and felt the tension between her shoulder blades relax.

With her next breath in Mercy was filled with fear—fear of not being good enough, smart enough, brave enough—or worse, being too self-centered to truly walk Freya’s path. Again, she acknowledged—I get it. Fear is here. That’s fine and normal and natural. Fear can be healthy. It reminds me to be smart and brave and selfless instead of selfish. And now I release you, fear. As she breathed fear out Mercy felt the sick knot in her stomach unravel and calm.

“And we begin. We are vessels, cleansed and protected, ready to be conduits for energy. Remember, we do not keep that energy. We only guide it. Visualize the gate before you, deep within the trunk of this ancient tree who has stood guardian for hundreds of years.”

Mercy kept her eyes tightly closed. She knew that Hunter’s eyes were open because every Feast Day of their lives until that night they’d practiced the ritual together from outside the pentagram while they watched their magical mother harness the energy of the earth and direct it to close the gate. Hunter always kept her eyes open to stare at the tree, but Mercy preferred to imagine the gate in her mind’s eye.

“When your image of the gate is set, reach through your bodies down into the earth—find the ley lines there—see them. What color is your ley line, Mercy?”

“Green!” Mercy said, eyes still shut.

“What color is your ley line, Hunter?”

“Deep blue!” Hunter said.

“And mine is silver gray, like the eyes of Athena. Draw your ley line up through your body and push it from the center of your forehead, like a beacon, to shine against the gate hidden within your tree. If the gate seems open at all, it will be closed. If the gate seems weary, it will be strengthened. If the gate seems small, it will grow and grow and grow until it is so powerful that nothing could possibly escape through it.”

Mercy imagined that when she breathed in she drew the beam of radiant green light up and into her body—along her spine—to blaze out of her third eye in the center of her forehead.

But nothing happened.

Mercy felt the pulsing power of the ley line, just like she always could. She could even feel it lifting to her, but