Chapter 7
Olivia awoke before dawn. In truth, she hardly slept. She might have dozed off, but the day before had been too much. Even for Olivia, who was more at home in the metaphysical world than the physical one, it was too much.
Olivia paced to the window and slid the glass open. Idaho was so quiet, or at least it was a different kind of quiet than she was used to in Salem. In Massachusetts, Olivia commiserated with the sea, with the moon, with the arcane light that gave Salem a fae-like glow. Olivia loved Salem’s steady flow of magic, a magic she had known her whole life, and her mother had known, and her mother, back to Miriam, her ancestor, who had come to the Massachusetts Bay Colony from England, named as a witch and lucky to make it out alive. Only it was true—Miriam was a witch
