Origin Exposed: Descended of Dragons, Book 2 by Jen Crane Page B

pyro-osteomancy.”
    “Pyro-what?”
    “It’s a kind of divination that uses bones heated over a fire until they crack. Then someone reads the cracks to foretell the future.”
    “What kind of bones?” I yelped. Ew.
    “I dunno. Surely animal. I don’t think it has to be the pinkie toe of a virgin or anything.”
    “Wait a minute,” I said slowly. “Layla. Layla once said her mother is a clairvoyant. A good one.”
    “ Miss Ston-ewall ?” rang a sarcastically-pert sing-song voice.
    Dean Miles. Perfect . “Yes?” I squeaked.
    “I was just discussing how modern perceptions of witchcraft in other cultures are a convergence of science, superstition, and history. But you know that, of course, because you were listening so intently.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “Tell me, Miss Stonewall, your particular thoughts on that image we’re all so familiar with of a cone-hatted witch riding a broom across a moonlit night. I’m sure your perspective is one we’d all love to hear.”
    I knew she was being sarcastic, that she was taunting me, but what were my options at that point?
    “Ah…okay.” I cleared my throat. “Well, as early as the 1300s there’s evidence that people who practiced witchcraft made compounds—hallucinogenic compounds—from plants like nightshade, henbane, mandrake.
    “And a natural progression of drug use has pretty much always been to discover how to get higher faster. These people discovered their compounds could be absorbed through sweat glands like the armpit or mucus membranes like…well, farther south.
    “Of course the primary benefit of these alternate routes was they bypassed the metabolizing function of the liver.” I paused to aide my dry mouth with a swallow. The subject matter had made me uncomfortable. “Ah, so, they bypassed the liver and stayed higher longer. Not to mention avoiding a righteous stomachache.
    “Anyway,” I said, growing ever more agitated as I went on, “it’s documented that the compounds were applied with the end of a broomstick.” The room was dead silent, and the sound of my throat clearing was like a trumpet blast. “Ah, you get the point. And as for the flying…well…yeah. Middle-Aged version of an acid trip.”
    My classmates, who until then had sat in stunned disbelief, or morbid curiosity—maybe both—erupted in raucous laughter. I shrugged and swung an arm behind me before taking a little bow.
    “Enough for today,” Dean Miles clipped out. A wicked grin pushed her mouth toward her cruel eyes. Despite the applause, she was distinctly pleased she’d forced me to publicly discuss broomsticks stuck in hairy places.

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    T imbra shook her head in astonishment as we made our way across campus. “How could you possibly know that?”
    “About the hallucinogens and the brooms, you mean?”
    “Of course that’s what I mean! Is it true?”
    “I don’t know if it’s true or not. But I read about it in my extracurricular studies. Makes sense, though.”
    “Phew,” she said and splayed fingers in front of her face. “Mind blown.”

Chapter 13
    L ayla’s family lived in …well, a tree house. She traced Timbra and I to her family home after our morning classes. She was certain her mother wouldn’t mind helping me, though she warned me she never worked for free. I didn’t have a lot of money since I was living on a stipend, but I took what little cash I had. I hoped it would be enough.
    The suspended wood cabin lay hidden deep in the forest among ancient trees. The tree that served as the foundation for Layla’s home was the largest I’d ever seen. As we approached, it loomed bigger and bigger, its massive branches extending into the surrounding canopy and disappearing altogether.
    The house itself was composed of smaller, rough logs, but featured modern windows and architecture. I spotted solar panels atop the slanted metal roof. What I didn’t see was a logical way to the front door.
    “How do we get in?” I asked Layla.
    “By