Chapter ONE - Weebly

over her chest.
There was another spell he could try, one that could
tell him what the murderer had used to fuel his spell.
Every conjuring had to draw upon its source, be it one
of the elements—fire, water, earth, or air—for the
simplest spells, or something drawn from a creature or
plant for living spells. The revealing spell Ethan had just
tried demanded his own blood. Other living spells could
be cast using herbs or tree sap or wood.
Just as every conjurer left his or her color on the
residue of a spell, so the source left an imprint as well, if
one knew the casting required to reveal it. Ethan did.
And perhaps knowing how the spell had been cast
would help him learn a bit more about the murderer. He
had told Pell that he would speak only the one spell.
But this would likely be his only chance to examine the
girl’s corpse, and it struck Ethan as foolish not to do
everything in his power to learn the identity of her killer.
The wounds he made to conjure began to heal
themselves almost as soon as he spoke his spells, which
meant that he needed to cut himself again for this
second casting. He retrieved his knife from the table,