The Enchanted Writes Book One Read Online Free Page A

things he’d said – of
all the crazy he’d spouted – the possibility that his name was
Brick trumped it all.
    Brick looked at her with narrowed eyes and
cleared his throat. “Do not interrupt me. It took me some years to
find you, but now I'm here, it's time we start to get down to
business. We have a lot of witches to hunt, and you have a lot of
training to undergo. Now I have introduced myself, it's time for
you to take up your transformation wand, get changed into something
more magical, and go out and fight the witches.”
    Henrietta blinked at him. She couldn't think
of an intelligent reply, and she couldn't even think of a
semi-stupid question to ask. All she could do was blink.
    She couldn’t process what he’d said. It was
all fanciful, all fantastic, and all entirely impossible.
    As Brick watched her, an expectant look on
his face, she realized she had to react in some way. So, despite
the fact he was a creepy home invader, she shrugged back and began
to laugh. “Okay, sure thing, Brick. I have another idea. How about
I call the police, and you get the hell out of my house?”
    Brick scrunched up his brow and looked
quizzical, as if he was thinking over that possibility, and then he
shook his head. “You are not an active listener. You seem to have
ignored everything I have told you. I have a sacred imperative to
help you fight the witches, so I am going to pass up on your offer
to get the hell out of your house. Instead I am going to teach you
how to transform with your transformation wand, and then you are
going to go out and fight the witches.”
    It was her turn to shake her head. Her
dripping hair sent trickles of water playing down her neck and back
and several droplets even splattered onto the wall beside her.
    Brick gave a heavy sigh. “We do not have
much time, Warrior Woman Henrietta; we must get some witch hunting
done before the night is through. Recognize that these are
dangerous creatures, and if left alone, the witches will bring much
misery and destruction.”
    She kept shaking her head.
    “Why are you shaking your head? Are you
denying the fact that the witches are one of the most dangerous and
insidious enemies on the planet?” He crossed his arms and got a
stern look on his face.
    “You are mad,” she admitted with a nervous
chuckle.
    Brick's eyebrows crumpled. “I am mad? You're
standing there, as a Warrior Woman, ignoring your duty, and
dripping water onto your floor.”
    “Why don't you get out of my house,
Brick?”
    Brick paused, shrugged, shook his head, and
took a massive sigh. “I see I am going to have to give you a
demonstration. Very well then.” With that he reached into his
leather jacket and somehow pulled out a massive crossbow. It was
huge, and couldn't have fit into the pocket of his jacket, and yet
he whisked it out, and the moment he did, she shuddered back from
shock.
    “Please, please, please don't.” She crumpled
a hand over her mouth and whimpered.
    “Don't what?” Brick shrugged.
    Before he could wait for her answer, he did
something.
    He shot the roof.
    He brought the crossbow up, directed the top
of it towards the ceiling, and then he fired. No bolt came
streaming from the crossbow. Instead it was a surge of blue energy
and flame.
    She screamed, clutching a hand to her chest,
whimpering as she stumbled back, feet snagging on the carpet and
sending her tumbling to the floor.
    She didn't sit frozen in fear for long. She
crawled backwards, eyes locked on the blue flame playing over her
ceiling.
    Though it looked powerful, it didn't burn
through the plaster. Instead it somehow formed a mandala,
circular-like pattern with symbols playing around the edges. It was
around this that the flames and electricity crackled.
    She’d never seen anything like it. Crossbows
shoot bolts, not mysterious blue flames and symbols.
    She shuddered and screamed and whimpered,
but no matter what she did, the symbols and flames didn’t
disappear. Neither did the ceiling burst