Secrets Of The Silent Witch Novels & Stories

“Our history, how we started our path. That book is a grimoire, a spell book if you will. It holds every spell, curse, potion or summons that the Owens witches knew.” Ivy looked at the page then back at her aunt her eyes narrowed. “Owens? But you, Lucile and mum are all Joneses. Why is Owens so important?” She asked with irritation. Standing back from the book and her aunt. Ivy folded her arms across her chest. Watching her aunts face carefully watching her expressions, assessing everything her aunt did from now on.

SIERRA "You smelt ash, Sierra. That is the distinct smell of a witch practicing black magic. She has probably disguised herself as a wolf to spy on us," exclaims elder Raoul. "I encountered one when I fought off Princess Evanora's abductor." Hearing the words, I freeze in my tracks. I turn to look at the elder who seems to be pleased that he knows who this spy is.

Silent. Seraya's knees gave way and she clung to the doorframe for leverage. Her eyes hurt with repressed tears, her head spinning. No… not this. She was our last hope. The darkness in the room seemed to spread out, closing in upon her like a taunt of her wretchedness. She huddled closer, though her stomach churned at the ugliness of the dead woman. The witch's fingers clutched some final-held secret, her lips open in a perpetual silence.

My hands shivering badly as I take them off the silk fabric of my green frock. The same frock I was wearing when these werewolves decided to massacre my whole clan and burn them alive. Burned my parents alive. Now am feeling cold, my bones are shivering as my teeth kept chattering due to the severe cold. I shouldn’t be feeling any cold since am a witch who could control our body temperature as we are comfortable. Then why am not able to use my magic. Fear drops in the pit of my stomach making me shut my eyes more tightly as if it’s possible.

Julian's voice cut through my thoughts which had my attention instantly snapping to him. Witchy grinned as if she held the world's secrets in the palm of her hands, and maybe she did. I heard most of their conversation before she decided to trap me in a glass prism. They kept records; archives was the word she used. She could know every secret known to mankind which probably made witches a dangerously powerful race. "We did," she answered, flexing her fingers on both hands before whispering something under her breath. The entire room was submerged in darkness for a short moment and then a burst of light blinded us.

“A member of the Rain Tribe.” I blinked, confused. “But… why? What does this have to do with me?” Her voice dropped lower. “Silas was brilliant, powerful, and dangerous. Years ago, he betrayed us. There was a type of witchcraft we banned centuries ago, magic so corrupt it destroys everything it touches. Silas secretly stole the hidden book of spells and learned it in secret. We hunted him for years, but he vanished.” I felt my stomach twist as her words sank in. “And the magic used on me…”

The elders sit in a semi-circle, their eyes sharp and wise, each possessing the accumulated knowledge of centuries. One of the elder witches, a woman named Sefira, stands and motions for Tonya to follow her. Sefira is the eldest among them, her silver hair flowing down her back, her posture regal despite her age. She leads Tonya through a narrow passageway and out into a hidden grove behind the cottage, a place where the trees form a natural barrier, creating a secluded sanctuary. The canopy overhead filters the sunlight, casting dappled patterns on the ground.

Even with the truth serum, I can see his face turn white. So, he was sent by the people making the Happy Dust and wanted to keep me quiet. Do they think sending a single assassin can silence me? It will take more than that. Nothing can take me down as long as I'm confident about it. After all, I'm the Red Witch. A rare being who can control the dead and make the world shake at the palms of her hands. With just a snap of my fingers, I can cause calamity. "It seems I was right," I grin. "Since Happy Dust has returned and caused an uproar in my life again. You people are ruining my peaceful time."

It was not obvious to anyone who wasn’t paying attention, but I noticed it instantly, the smallest fracture in her calm exterior, like fear briefly slipping through a carefully built mask. For a moment I studied her more closely, because witches were never easy to read. They learned early how to survive in silence, how to deny what they were even when the truth stood in front of them. They hid their scent, masked their energy, and lived carefully among humans as if nothing about them was different. Quinton’s gaze remained locked on her, and I realized what he was doing before she even reacted fully. Compulsion.

" I embraced Harriet in my arms, and her light was gone. She yawned as though nothing out of this common sense had taken place. "She's just a baby," I whispered. "She's more," Silas replied. She is a cross between a witch and a wolf with awakened magic. It means that her tantrums may hurt other people... or herself. Fear twisted in my stomach. "Then teach me how to help her. Teach me everything." Silas nodded. "We begin now." Silas, who was in one of the Witchwood huts, placed a few small objects on a flat table-stones, feathers, bowls and herbs.