Chapter 41

Breakfast remains littered the table. Ronan had gone down to the ritual room to start preparations and renew the protective spells while Bonnie had gone off on her motorcycle. Why,Henry had whispered to Jamey as he smeared butter on the whole wheat toast, would a witch have a motorcycle? Unfortunately he hadn’t whispered softly enough. Bonnie had frostily told him the whole business about brooms was pretty much a myth and only a few witches could fly—those with gods’ blood—and besides, she likedmotorcycles, thank you very much, the bigger the better. Then she had stalked off, with Gunther in a back pack, muttering something about little twerps who didn’t really know anything. A few minutes later, they heard the bike roar away.