Chapter ONE - Weebly

weren’t witches. Like most spellers, Ethan believed that
witches were the stuff of legend—an imagined threat
dreamt up by overzealous ministers. Conjurers were as
real as the flames he had just summoned.
Greenleaf didn’t seem to know what to make of
Ethan’s denial, but he continued to keep his distance.
“Are you hurt?” Pell asked. His gaze fell to Ethan’s
bloody shoulder. “Is that a knife wound?”
“A bullet wound, actually. What are you doing
here?”
Pell glanced quickly at the sheriff and swallowed.
“Arresting you, as ordered by the Reverend Henry
Caner of King’s Chapel, Boston. We’re to take you
back to the church.”
Greenleaf shook his head. “As I’ve already told
you, I don’t answer to Mister Caner.”
“We all answer to the Lord, Sheriff,” Pell said. “Or
do you deny His authority as well?”
The sheriff opened his mouth, but then snapped it
shut again. The sky had dimmed almost to black, but
Ethan could see that his cheeks burned red.
“Mister Kaille,” Pell said, turning to face him. “May