Cassandra Porter: The Girl with the Lightning Scar Book One

Chapter 3: The Guest

"Mom, what's wrong?" Cassie asked as they walked into the house.

Mrs. Porter looked down at her daughter; her eyes glistened with tears. "We aren't going trail riding today, Cassie."

Cassie looked at her mom bewildered. "Why? It's my birthday. We go every year."

She walked over to Cassie and bent down to look her in the eye. "Because this year things are different." She looked over Cassie's shoulder to look at her dad. "You're eleven."

"But what does that. . ."

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

"I've got it," Dad said.

The door squeaked, and Mr. Porter mumbled a greeting. Cassie quickly walked to the door, hoping it was her friend Maddy coming to wish her a happy birthday like she did every year. However, when Cassie turned toward the door, she was greeted by a tall older woman in an emerald green robe and hat. Her eyes peered down at Cassie, and her lips curled into what Cassie assumed was meant to be a smile—causing Cassie to stumble backward into her mom's arms.

"We've been expecting you," Mrs. Porter said. "Please, come in." She motioned the stranger to the kitchen table—which Mrs. Porter had set for four people. Whoever this woman was, Cassie realized that her parents were expecting her.

"Thank you," the woman replied and sat down at the far end of the table.

"I'll have the pancakes out in a moment. Make yourself at home."

Cassie went to follow her mom to the stove and help her, but Mrs. Porter turned around and looked from Cassie to the open chair at the table—asking Cassie to sit down next to their guest. But Cassie shook her head and walked toward her mom.

"Who is. . ."

"Cassandra, I told you to sit at the table with our guest. Go sit down."

"But who is she?"

"Shhh. . ." she put her finger to her lips. "Be quiet and go sit down."

Cassie hesitated.

Mrs. Porter looked down at her. "Now, Cassandra Lillian."

She hated being called by her full name.

Begrudgingly, Cassie went back to the kitchen table where her and the weirdly dressed stranger were sitting. As she walked up to the table, she heard her dad ask the stranger a question.

"So, you will take her today?"

"Take me where?" Cassie pulled out her chair and sat in it.

"Well, yes. She needs to. . ."

"I need to what?" She scraped her chair against the floor as she scooted closer to the table.

"Mago," Mr. Porter said. "Manners."

"But I want to know what's going on. Why aren't we going riding today? Who is this woman?" Cassie pointed to our guest sitting to her left. "And why do I need to go somewhere?"

"Because," her mom walked into the kitchen with a plate of pancakes. "You're a witch, Cassie."

"I'm a what?" Cassie's eyes widened.

"You're a witch, my dear. And an extremely powerful one from what we can tell," the green cloaked lady replied.

"I'm not a witch. Witches don't exist. They're fictional." Cassie stated confidently.

"No they're not, Mago." Mr. Porter put his hand over his daughters. "We've known for a long time about your abilities."

"What abilities?"