Spells Trouble (Sisters of Salem #1) - P. C. Cast Page 0,3

magic it revealed.

“Oh, goddess be blessed! Thank you, Gaia! Thank you!” The words rushed from Sarah as green light lifted from the floor of the grove. Under her feet a ribbon of emerald pointed westward. As Gaia’s power channeled through the opal to enhance her sight, the path blazed and pulsed with energy, building in intensity in the distance. She felt its pull as if she had been tethered to it.

Sarah opened her eyes then and bowed her head reverently. “I shall follow your path—now and always. Blessed be, Earth Mother.” She kissed the center of the opal and then turned to the ancient oak. On tiptoes Sarah reached up to press the stone into a niche in the bark. “Thank you, Mother Apple. I shall always remember how you stood sentry over my future.” Again, the leaves above her shivered in response.

Only then did she gather their supplies, rebury the now empty box, and—with her daughter’s hand in hers and the feline familiar at their side—Sarah Goode broke the salt circle and headed west, following the ley line of power that thrummed like a heartbeat beneath her feet.

Present Day

GOODEVILLE, ILLINOIS—SALEM COUNTY

One

Goode Lake was postcard perfect with its tree-lined banks and sandy shores that gradually sloped into the crystal blue water. The lake always looked good, but somehow today it looked better. Maybe it was because today was Hunter Goode’s sixteenth birthday. Or maybe it was because Hunter was looking for a reason to procrastinate. Either way, she had charged down to the edge of the water, towel in hand, shimmied out of her T-shirt and shorts, and now waded into the calm blue.

Goose bumps crested against her skin and she stared down at her feet as the gentle waves consumed more of her. The water reached the high neck of her swimsuit top and she could still see her toes, blurry pale orbs against the camel-colored sand. Another few steps and they were gone, swallowed by the rich navy of the deep water, and Hunter was floating.

She lifted her legs, stretched out her arms, tipped her head back, and closed her eyes against the piercing sunlight. Her ears plunged beneath the surface as she drifted on her back. The dull whoosh of water was an active kind of quiet. The sort of roaring silence that made drifting off to sleep more of a command than a choice. And, for Hunter, this forceful silence was always welcome. It kept her from her thoughts. Better yet, it kept her from her memories.

A boat motor stirred the water and roared through Hunter’s reverie. She shielded her eyes and let her legs sink back into the water. The red-and-black boat circled the far side of the lake before it returned to the center. Its belly smacked the water as it jumped its own white-capped wake. A chorus of whoops and cheers erupted as the boat slowed and bobbed on top of the surging water.

A wave slapped Hunter in the face, and she wiped her eyes before squinting at the boat and its passengers. Its five passengers. Hunter blinked more water from her eyes. Five male passengers. And one of them was waving at—

“Hey!” The only shirtless member stood on the row of seats flapping his arms like a goose. “You go to Goode High, right? You’re a Mustang.”

The boat drifted closer to Hunter. She stared back at the five young men who looked at her expectantly. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Her heart was lodged inside her throat and her pulse hammered against her eardrums. She dove under the water and swam back to the safety of the sand and her towel and the clothes she’d stripped off when she knew no one was watching. Her chest ached for oxygen, but she kept swimming. She could hear them laughing. It rang louder than her pulse and the roaring silence. In middle school, she’d been everyone’s favorite joke. Two years later, she still expected to be.

Hunter’s lungs forced her above water. She gasped for air and crawled from the lake, nearly collapsing onto her neatly folded towel and pile of clothes. She didn’t want to look back at the boat, at the boys, and see them pointing and staring, but she had to. The joke wasn’t complete until she did.

Hunter’s eyes burned. She shook away the tears. Crying only made things worse. She plucked her thin rope cord from the pile and squeezed the T-shaped opalescent pendant in