Sarah Benadine is Dead

Chapter XX, Part IV

Marking someone was a tricky business. Spellcasting itself required a certain level of expertise, and this was no ordinary spell. Gathering the right supplies was challenge enough; depending upon circumstances, getting some piece of the intended victim—hair, skin, blood—could be the most significant roadblock. And then there was the casting itself.

Anyone who was versed in spellcasting would say that conviction was more necessary than anything else. A spell could be recited perfectly but fail to have any of the intended effects simply because the caster didn't want it badly enough. That was the most important part of any kind of magic: the spellcaster had to want it. Otherwise it was just empty words, lacking all meaning and power.

It was perhaps the most serious thing a person could do, resolving to take another's life. A spell like that would not respond to everyday annoyance or dislike. Would not bend in the heat of the moment and cause something that could not be undone. To cast a spell like that required a special kind of hate, a special kind of anger. Ironically, it usually had less to do with the victim than anyone—even the spellcaster—would believe.

Giving someone a mark had been known to take weeks—months, even. Very often nothing happened. Because the caster's feelings were not strong enough.

It had taken quite some time, but another in Clearwater had been burdened with the mark. Another was going to die.

When the dust settled, Jackie Gordon ran.

***Ugh, I hate adding such a short chapter by itself, but I am legitimately stalling until the people in my life finish reading. I'm hoping to get another, longer chapter out really soon regardless. Anyway, thanks to everyone who voted and commented :)***