The Secret. Ariana Chambers
92-a78b-365e34bf89f8">
With special thanks to
Siobhan Curham and Catherine Coe
First published in Great Britain 2017
by Egmont UK Limited
The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN
Copyright © Egmont UK Ltd, 2017
First e-book edition 2016
ISBN 978 1 4052 7741 9
Ebook ISBN 978 1 7803 1699 4
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Stay safe online. Any website addresses listed in this book are correct at the time of going to print. However, Egmont is not responsible for content hosted by third parties. Please be aware that online content can be subject to change and websites can contain content that is unsuitable for children. We advise that all children are supervised when using the internet.
Contents
There was a time when I really looked forward to school trips. When the worst thing I had to worry about was whether one of the boys would be sick on the coach from one too many speed bumps or way too many sweets. But that was before. Before I moved to Fairhollow, my mum’s home town, and before my life was turned upside down and inside out with the revelation that I am a witch.
Yes, you read that correctly. And no, I don’t fly about on a broomstick or turn people into frogs or eat my dinner from a cauldron. But it turns out that a few families in Fairhollow still carry some kind of witch gene, and mine happens to be one of them. Having the witch gene means you are born with some kind of witch power – like invisibility or being able to harness energy or move through walls. My power is being an empath, which means I can tell how other people are feeling – and sometimes what they’re thinking. This is not as cool as it might sound. Now everything in my life – including school trips – comes laden with issues. Like how I’m going to deal with the other witch kids at my school who’ve chosen to embrace the dark side.
‘I heard that a girl got murdered in Mad Bess Woods,’ Izzy says loudly from the back of the coach.
‘Yeah,’ Izzy’s sulky-faced sidekick, Vivien, chimes in, equally loudly. ‘That’s how the woods got their name. Apparently she was lured to her death by the ghost of a Victorian orphan girl called Bess. Who was mad.’
Next to me, my friend and fellow good witch, Holly, gives a dramatic sigh. ‘If they’re going to make up stories, they could at least use a little imagination. Lamest plot ever.’
I can’t help laughing. Holly is the biggest bookworm I’ve ever known. I bet if doctors looked inside her brain, in the interests of medical science or something, her memory would look just like a library, with shelves and shelves of the books she’s read all stored away inside.
‘That’s right,’ Stephen’s voice booms down the coach. ‘They, like, found her body hanging from one of the trees and she was, like, all dead and stuff.’
Stephen is Izzy’s other sidekick. All brawn and no brains. And until recently, no eyebrows, thanks to an ‘accident’ Holly orchestrated with a Bunsen burner.
I feel a sudden shiver coming from the right of me and I glance across the aisle at Eve. As usual, she’s sitting by herself, and staring grimly through her huge glasses