Spells Trouble (Sisters of Salem #1) - P. C. Cast Page 0,21

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 instead of it filling her body with luminous energy, it was like a garden hose with a kink in it, and only trickles of power sluggishly moved up to her spine and hovered there with a little warmth, like someone pressed their hand to the small of her back.

She squeezed her eyelids more firmly together and focused, concentrating on the energy that was tantalizingly close. Drew a deep breath in as she called to her goddess. Freya, my goddess, help me. Strengthen me. Allow me to guide the energy of your earth.

Mercy felt the warmth along her spine expand a little, but there was no infilling of energy—there was no inrush of power. The pulse of the ley line had been replaced with something cold and strange and wrong.

Suddenly Xena hissed and began growling, a guttural, dangerous sound that wasn’t even recognizable as coming from the sweet, nosy feline Mercy had known her entire life.

Hunter gasped and cried, “Oh! Tyr! No!”

Mercy opened her eyes. Hunter sat beside her. They faced the tree, while their mother sat cross-legged in front of them with her back to the tree. Beside Abigail, Xena had turned to face the tree as well. The huge cat’s back was fully arched and her tufted ears flattened against her skull as she continued to growl menacingly.

The thick trunk of the mighty tree dripped with something disgusting—black and foul and thick. The center of the trunk quivered, like a horse trying to shake off a swarm of biting flies, but this was no horse. A snout pushed through the darkness and took form, melted wax becoming solid as it entered this world. Red eyes broke through the shuddering bark. The thing was huge—all sinew, matted fur, and claws. Its breath came in rapid pants as it pulled its body through the corrupted center of the tree. The fetid stench of it reached Mercy—thick with sulfur and rot. Mercy tasted bile as she gagged in revulsion and fear.

The creature looked directly at them and snarled, gnashing long, pointed teeth.

Five

Abigail surged to her feet. “Run!” she screamed and pushed her daughters back toward the darkness of the open field.

Hunter’s feet cemented to the ground. Her mother’s shoves only jarred her enough to make her dizzy. This wasn’t real. None of it.

Sealskin black liquid gushed from the tree, and spurted around the slick and matted fur of the giant wolf clawing its way into their world. It flashed in and out of focus, unstable as it tried to gain hold in this new realm. Its talons dug trenches in the grass and it bared its teeth and growled, wet nose sniffing the air. This was a nightmare, sixteen years of anxiety spilling out of Hunter’s subconscious and raining down on this made-up version of things to come.

Hunter reached out for Mercy. In any nightmare, she could grab hold of her sister and will herself awake. Emptiness met her fingers. Nothing but spring air and the guttural moans of the fanged beast. Hunter whirled around. The breeze tugged at the skirt of Mercy’s ivory dress as she followed their mother’s instructions and ran. But Mercy wouldn’t leave her. That’s never how it happened. Not in Hunter’s dreams and especially not her nightmares.

Mercy glanced backward and skidded to a halt. “Hunter!” she shrieked and focused her wide-eyed terror past her sister.

This was all too real. Hunter felt the monster behind her. Felt the rank air tighten and heard the otherworldly liquid slosh as the creature spilled into their realm. She couldn’t turn around, couldn’t force herself to move. This was supposed to be peaceful, magical, the beginning of years and years of happiness and light. What had she done to deserve this?

“Stay back, vile beast!” her mother roared over the steady crackle of the charged night