The Witches of Dark Root: Daughters of Dark Root: Book One (The Daughters of Dark Root) by April Aasheim Page B

work, whether we see them or not.”
    “That’s the problem with coincidences,” I said. “You can never prove them.”
    “You’re jaded, Maggie. I’m not sure why, but it’s kind of sad. I hope Eve hasn’t become jaded, too.”
    Hearing him speak Eve’s name darkened my mood. I turned the radio dial away from his hillbilly crying music. I found a station playing Metallica and I blasted it, mostly because I thought it would annoy him.
    Instead, he started banging his head to the beat.
    “I’m going to sleep,” I said, closing my eyes.
    Surprisingly, he kept the radio on the heavy metal station. We listened to songs from Van Halen and Motley Crew. Then ‘For Those About to Rock I Salute You’ came on. My eyes flipped open. Shane was drumming his fingers against the wheel.
    “Please, turn this off,” I said. But he didn’t hear me. I sat up and repeated my request, this time louder. “Please, turn this off.”
    He gave me a curious look. “You picked the station.”
    “Turn this off now!”
    Pop!
    A spark shot from the radio and then it went quiet. Shane did a double take as he fiddled with the knobs. Nothing came on, not even static.
    “You did this?” he asked, his face a mixture of fear and incredulousness.
    I didn’t respond.
    “You did this,” he repeated, a smile spreading across his face. “Maggie. What they say is true. You are––”
    “Careful,” I said, looking at him out of the corner of my eye.
    “...Special,” he concluded, shaking his head in disbelief. “I always knew Eve had ‘something,’ but it was never tangible. But this. I can’t believe it.”
    “Coincidence.”  
    “Yeah, right.” He thought for a moment, scratching his head. “I’ve read about this on the internet. Electro-kinesis. You manipulate the energy of electrical devices like the radio and cell phone. It’s a pretty rare gift...”
    “The internet? Oh, then it has be true,” I said dryly, pretending to bite on my nails.
    I was angry at him, but I wasn’t sure why. His references to Eve? His talk of Dark Root? His insistence that I was... something? And why was he so excited about me being special? Was he like Michael? Hoping to use my so-called powers for his own gain?
    “I may be able to turn a radio off, or pop a light bulb once in a while,” I snapped, my anger growing. “But I have no control over these things, they just happen. And maybe they really are all just coincidences. So no, Shane, I am not a witch, if that is the burning question you are dying to ask me...”
    “I never called you a witch.” He turned, giving me his full attention.
    “Wilder, then.”
    He looked sorry for me and went to squeeze my hand, but I pulled back. No, he hadn’t called me either of those things, but the words wilder and witch were my labels back in Dark Root. Labels I had tried to leave behind.
    “I’m sorry,” he said, staring back at the dark road before us. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
    I took a deep breath and nodded, accepting his apology. I knew I was being overly sensitive.
    We had escaped the darkness of the forest, and had come to a large area where most of the trees had been cleared. Shane turned off his high-beams and we picked up our pace. Neither of us spoke, and with the radio off, the silence was painful.
    Finally, our headlights caught a sign.
    Welcome to Dark Root. Where Every Day Is Halloween.
    Shane lifted his chin and hit the gas, ready to unload his troublesome cargo.
     

     
    “Where we headed to?” Shane asked, as we drove down the back roads of Dark Root towards the downtown proper. He had a weariness to his voice, and I could tell he wanted to get home himself. We passed houses I recognized from my childhood, large Victorian structures, many dark and boarded over. Had they been that way before I left? Or had I been only one of many people who had fled the town?
    “Do you know where Harvest Home is?” I asked.  
    Of course he had to know. Harvest Home was the