Read Struck: (Phoebe Meadows Book 1) for Free Online Page A

way out.
    Think, Phoebe .
    Other than the old fireplace with the spooky, bubbling cauldron, and the rickety bookshelves I’d landed under, which I saw upon further inspection held millions of jars with specimens floating in them, the room was sparse.
    The only other piece of furniture was a battered old wooden table that sat in the middle. It had a few stools shoved under it.
    I turned in a full circle.
    Toward the back, a massive expanse of a tree trunk half erupted out of the wall. It took up the entire corner.
    In fact, this room looked to have been built purposefully around that exposed trunk. The bark went from the floor to the ceiling, indicating it kept going outside these walls.
    The tree was oddly compelling.
    I walked toward it with one hand extended before I knew what I was doing.
    Once there, my fingertips brushed against the bark. A swirl of light formed instantly at the contact point as a spark of electricity raced up my arm, like a swarm of bees had jumped into my bloodstream.
    I snatched my hand away and stumbled back.
    The light dimmed before my eyes.
    Before I could decide what to do, I heard a loud thumping. It sounded like it was coming from the tree. Something was clanking around inside. I searched for a place to hide and ran, ducking down by the end of the bookcase, right as a massive form tumbled out in a flash of bright, white light.
    Right where I’d been standing only two seconds ago.
    As it landed, rolling a few times, it shook the room like an earthquake.
    I shrank back into the shadows as far as I could go, clutching Gram to my chest.
    The thing on the floor was huge. As it rose, it shook its head a few times. The ride must have been rough. At full height, it had to duck down so it didn’t scrape its gigantic noggin on the exposed roots dangling from the ceiling.
    When I noticed the tusk coming out of its forehead, it was all I could do not to whimper out loud. The thing had to be at least eight feet tall.
    “Good, Junnal.” The same crisp voice entered the room, but stopped short of where I could see from my position crouched against the wall. “You came quickly. I am in need of your assistance. We have had a… misfortune of sorts. A certain prize of mine has slipped away. I will need the aid of your expert nose. I want you to sniff the creature out and bring her to me. She must smell human after all the time she’s spent on Midgard. You’re familiar with human scent, aren’t you, Junnal?”
    “Yes…Verdandi.” Its voice was extremely low and filled the room like rumbling thunder, making my head ache.
    “Good. Now come with me. We have reason to believe she has made it into the root network. The ettins are busy scouring the caves, but the little urchins have yet to unearth her. She is cloaked, but that shouldn’t be a problem for you. You are immune to white-elf magic, are you not?”
    The thing nodded its boulder-sized skull.
    As they moved to the door, I risked poking my head slightly around the bookcase. I wanted to get a glimpse of the woman, Verdandi. Her voice was harsh and formidable, and I was expecting a librarian or a schoolmarm. At first look, my hand flew up to my mouth to stifle any sound that wanted to erupt without my permission.
    The woman was nothing more than a skeleton, gnarled and grizzled.
    As she appraised the giant, or the troll, or whatever Junnal was, it took everything I had not to squeal out loud. Her eyes were two sunken orbs in her skull. Her skin was so worn it hung in loose folds, drooping around her face. Her pallor matched the grubby gray dress she wore, and her hair was a tangled mass of charcoal and white hanging limply around her shoulders.
    She turned and left, the large beast lumbering after her, each footfall shaking the floor.
    I slowly exhaled, but kept a hand cupped over my mouth just in case. I tasted bile in the back of my throat as I sank down to the dirt floor, bringing my knees up, bowing my head on my arms, still clutching Gram in my