Cresent Prophecy by Axelle Chandler (sad books to read TXT) 📗
- Author: Axelle Chandler
Book online «Cresent Prophecy by Axelle Chandler (sad books to read TXT) 📗». Author Axelle Chandler
Lucy was mucking around with the tumbled stones, forcing them up into the air. She was making them float, her fingers twisting and turning, manipulating their trajectory. Lucy was a witch! I could sense her magic as clear as day.
I let out a dramatic gasp, and my grip loosened on my sandwich and cookies. They fell to the floor with a plop, and Lucy turned around, her mouth falling open.
“It’s not what it looks like,” she declared, the stones falling back into the display.
“Noooooo,” I said, drawing out the word. “I knew you were too good to be true!”
“Am not!”
“Are too!” I pointed my finger at her. “You’re a witch!”
“So are you!”
“I can’t believe I bought you a cookie!”
“You bought me a cookie?”
I chased her around the display, firing off questions.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked. “If you knew, then why didn’t you say?”
“You know what it’s like,” she said, backing away. “You know what’s out there.”
“But we’re on the same side!”
“Really? I’ve known others who would sell out their own children for a bit of favor.”
“Seriously? That’s terrible!”
“Power corrupts,” she said defiantly.
She had a point.
“Why are you working here?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “What do you want from me? Are you a spy?”
“No!” she declared. “I’m not!”
“Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure you knew or at least suspected what Alex was.”
She paled and ceased her fleeing.
“If you suspected, then why didn’t you warn me?” I demanded. “He almost dragged me away!”
“You’re one of them,” she said with a squeak.
“One of them?” I exclaimed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t tell me you don’t know your own family history. You’re a Crescent Witch!”
Her tone of voice made it sound like she was calling me a Crescent bitch. Like I was some self-important, stuck-up princess with her head in the clouds. Boone had referred to the Crescents as the most powerful coven in Ireland before their decline in the wake of Carman’s betrayal, but I didn’t know anything about that. I might be the last member, but I wasn’t a name.
“Four months,” I said. “Four months and…” I counted the days on my fingers. “Two weeks. That’s how long I’ve known. I never knew my mother, I never knew the coven, and I sure as hell don’t know you!”
She cringed, clearly frightened of me.
“How did you know who I was, but I couldn’t tell who you were?” I demanded, almost stomping on my sandwich.
“Everyone thought the Crescents were over,” she said. “I didn’t believe them!”
“Who? Where are the other witches? Why won’t they show themselves?”
“You know why,” Lucy exclaimed. “They’re afraid of losing their magic!”
“So I’m left to fight on my own?” I demanded. “How is that fair?”
“You’re a Crescent,” she said again like it was the answer to everything.
“So?” I threw my hands up into the air. “It’s not an excuse to hide like cowards! Do you really think I can protect an entire country on my own? Huh?”
“Skye, I didn’t…”
“Didn’t what?” I placed my hands on my hips and waited.
“When we heard about the last Crescent passin’, we thought that was it. We might be able to come out of hidin’.”
I stared at her, my expression falling. “What does that mean? You don’t want me?”
“I know you don’t mean it,” Lucy said, stumbling over her words. “You can’t help bein’ born.”
The prophecy. My blood was the key to breaking the chains—the chains being the curse that barred Carman from Ireland. Since my ancestors had locked the fae realm, I was the sole key to opening the doorways. She’d been collecting magic for a thousand years, and all she needed was a way to get close to the hawthorns, which was where the prophecy came into play.
The Crescents were at the heart of this whole war, and I was to blame for everyone’s pain and suffering by simply being born. Now I knew why I’d never met any witches. They hated my guts because of the color of my magic.
“No, I don’t mean it,” I said sharply. “I never asked for any of this. I never asked to be the sole soldier in a war for a people I’ve never met, and now you’re telling me they don’t even want me? I didn’t start this war, but I’ve been lumped with it all the same.”
I picked up my sandwich from the floor and peered inside the bag. It was still good, and so were the cookies. My cookies.
“Skye—”
“You can go home for today,” I interrupted, not wanting to hear it. “Maybe I’ll be more amicable about being an epic pain in the ass to the people I’m supposed to protect, no questions asked, tomorrow.”
Turning my back, I took out my sandwich and began unwrapping it. Behind me, the bell above the door jingled, signaling Lucy had fled. Only time would tell if she came back.
Here I was all ready to go into battle against an unknown power that might kill me, and my own people would rather I die than even try to defeat the biggest evil of all?
Shoving a cookie into my mouth, I sighed, spitting crumbs across the counter.
What an epic slap in the face.
“I knew she wasn’t all that!” I declared as I stormed across the top field, barely missing a pile of sheep droppings.
Boone raised his head and proceeded to look perplexed.
“What are you talkin’ about?” he asked as the sheep scattered.
Phee streaked across the side of the hill after them, herding the black and white puffballs back into a neat pack.
“Lucy!” I declared, putting my hands only hips. “I caught her!”
He straightened up and dusted off his hands on his jeans. “Caught her doin’ what? Was she stealin’ out of the till or somethin’?”
“No! She was making the tumbled stones float! She’s a witch!”
Boone’s mouth formed an O shape.
“So we were both right, thank you very much.”
“You thought she was a fae,” he countered.
“Don’t make this into an argument.”
“You’re the one who stormed up here,” he said,
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