A skunk. I couldn’t ask the duke for a favor if I smelled like a skunk. Rude. I blinked at the skunk. “Did you speak?” Yes. And you’re staring. With quite the stink face, I might add. “Um, I’m sorry.” I stared down at the skunk. “You’re really talking and I’m not hallucinating?” I’m really talking. Oh, she really was. Her lips weren’t moving, but I could hear her in my head. And that meant only one thing—she was my familiar.
Another pwerful witch
