Read Witch Catcher Online

Authors: Mary Downing Hahn

Tags: #Fairies, #Fantasy & Magic, #Fiction, #Juvenile Fiction, #Animals, #General, #Family, #United States, #People & Places, #Fathers and Daughters, #Witches, #Single-Parent Families, #Cats, #Parents, #Pets, #West Virginia

Witch Catcher (20 page)

"Sorry."

She frowned and sighed and muttered something about dimbob humans. "Now," she said, "be quiet and listen and I'll tell ye the way."

Gugi directed me through a series of rights and lefts, up hills and down, through woods and over bridges, past cows watching us moodily from green fields. At last, Gugi cautioned me to slow down and park on the side of the road.

Four crows were perched in a row on a fence. When they saw Gugi and me get out of the car, they shed their feathers and wings and became themselves again.

"Jen's got no talent for vehiculating," Gugi said. "Nor does she have a skill at navigating. She were not only heading the wrong way but bouncing from tree to tree, making a big whumpus on the road."

"I never—"

"Hush, it be of no matter," Binna said. "Ye're here now, whumpus or no whumpus. Ye must all listen and do as I say."

Brynn frowned at Binna. "Who said ye were the boss of me?"

Without giving her aunt a chance to answer, Kieryn poked her brother hard with her elbow. "Hush up, ye pishy fool, and do what Binna teds ye."

To the rest of us, she said, "He thinks because he's a prince he gets to be boss. The big billybop—he'dstill be in yon trap if it weren't for me 'n' Jen."

Brynn glared at Kieryn, but he had nothing more to say. At least for now. He was the kind of boy who made me glad I had no brothers.

"Now, as I were saying," Binna went on, shooting Brynn a nasty look, "I aims to change Jen into an old man and send her to the house. She'll take the bag with the empty trap, and that creepity-crawly Simkins will come to the door."

Binna turned her eyes to me, holding me fast with her stare. "Ted Simkins ye've heard his master collects witch catchers and ye've got one ye think he'd fancy. Hold up the bag so he'd see it's true.
Him
will come to look, wearing them spectacles."

She paused and gazed even more deeply into my eyes. She didn't blink, and neither did I. "This be the dangerous part, Jen. but I know ye can do it. Ye're made of brave stuff, child."

Binna took a deep breath. "Ye must pull the spectacles right off his nose. Quickly quick, show him the trap, hi he goes. Plug up the spout bang-o and shove the trap back in the bag. We'd come then to help ye with Simkins."

Brynn sneered. "Ye're letting a human girl do that? Ye're mad, daffy, out of yer craney. Gimme them glasses ye took from for and let me be the old man. I'll be better than a dimbob girl."

Kieryn gave her brother a shake. "And just what do ye speculate
him
will do when
him
sees ye wearing
her
spectacles?"

Brynn pulled away, pouting. Once more he had nothing further to say.

I was scared, but I don't think anyone knew it. I stood still and let Binna work her magic on me. In a few seconds, I was stooped and wrinkled. I had a beard. I leaned on a cane. My coat and trousers were ragged and dirty, and my shoes had holes that showed my toes.

"Oh, ye've got the skill, Binna," Skilda exclaimed, "just look at the human child—an old man if ever I seen un. Don't Binna's magic shine yer eyes out, Gugi?"

"Aye, it do, it do indeed. She be the bestest of us three. The veriest queen of spells and magic."

"Go now," Binna said. "And be brave ... be brave."

Clutching the velvet bag, I hobbled up the road. I looked back once at the fairies, but all I saw were five black crows perched on a fence. Two were smaller than the others. I walked on, alone and scared.

At the top of the hill, I stopped and looked down on the green lawn surrounding Ashbourne's house. Its towers caught the sunlight, its windows sparkled. His dark van sat in the driveway, ready, I supposed, to run me down in the street.

With slow steps, I made my way down the hill and up a shady, tree-lined driveway Trying not to tremble, I reached for the huge brass knocker and let it fall against the door with a loud thud. In a moment, I heard footsteps approaching. The knob turned and the door opened. Simians stood there, scowling at me.

"We don't give nothing to beggars," he said. "Get out of here, before Mr. Ashbourne gives you a beating you won't forget."

Quickly I thrust my foot in the door, hoping it worked in real life as wed as in books. "Wait," I cried in a hoarse, old man's voice, "don't be so hasty. I have something your master will want."

Simkins hesitated, the door open a slit as wide as my foot. "What could a bum like you have? My boss is a rich man. He don't need junk from beggars."

I reached into the bag, pulled out the witch trap, and held it up, willing my hands not to shake. "I've been told Mr. Ashbourne collects these. Isn't this one a beauty?"

Simkins sighed, obviously annoyed. "Wait there. I'd tell him what you got."

I stood in the doorway and watched the man disappear into a shadowy hall. Behind me, several crows cawed. I turned to see them perched in a tree, their backs to the house.

Soon Ashbourne appeared, eyes hidden behind his tinted glasses. "You have a witch catcher, I believe?"

I held it up, its colors brilliant in the sunlight. "A rare find," I said, hoping he'd miss the tremble in my voice. "Only a few in existence, sir."

"Hmm ... yes. I've seen only one like that." Ashbourne leaned toward me to get a better look at the trap.

With a speed I didn't know I had, I grabbed his glasses and dung them onto the grass.

Taken by surprise, Ashbourne cried out and tried to turn his head away. He was too late. In a dash, he was sucked through the spout and into the trap, buzzing louder than cicadas on a hot summer day. Green light dashed like dames, even more blinding than Moura's, and the glass burned my hands. Despite the heat, I managed to jam the cork in place and thrust the trap into its bag.

Simkins ran toward me. "Look what you've done!" he yelled. "Let him out, let him out!"

I ducked away, and at the same moment, five crows dew at him, pecking his face, beating him with their wings, drawing blood.

Simkins stumbled backward, shielding his face with his arms and cursing. The crows' loud caws deafened me, but I held fast to the bag and the furious warlock inside.

Drawn by the noise, Rose cowered in the doorway, her eyes huge with fright, and stared in horror at Simkins, who crouched at my feet, convulsed with fear.

"Stop!" the man begged. "I just did what I was told to do. He was my boss—blame him, not me."

The crows drew away horn Simkins. Wearing her long green gown, her silver hair shining, Binna towered over him, her face stern.

The man looked up at her, his body rigid with fear. Rose cried out and hid her face.

"Don't ye be afeared," Binna said calmly. "I've come to grant yer wish. Remember what
he
promised ye?"

"Eternal life," Simians whispered, his eyes lighting with hope. "That's what he promised."

Binna glanced at Rose. "Were ye promised the same?"

Rose made a sort of curtsy, braver now. "Yes, ma'am, the boss gave us both the same deal. No wages for our work-just eternal life."

"I hates to see a promise broke," Binna said. "We fairies have our honor, ye know."

I stared at her in disbelief, but the fairies seemed to be amused. In fact, Gugi had covered her mouth to hide her grin.

Binna raised her arms. "Arc ye sure ye truly want to live forever?" she asked.

"Oh, yes, yes," they cried out. "Eternal life!"

"Fair is fair, I say." Binna drew herself even taller and threw back her head. Her silver hair swirled in the sunlight, and her green gown shimmered like leaves in a summer breeze. "Simkins and Rose, from now and forever ... be crickets. Creep and hide in dark places, never see the light of day, never speak in human tongue—but live forever."

As she spoke, Simkins and Rose vanished. In then place, two black crickets scurried across the door, chirping in tiny voices. I watched them disappear under a carved oak chest in the entrance had.

Binna laughed. "Aye, the two of ye will have all eternity to rue the day ye wished for immortality!"

Turning to me, she was herself again, a bent woman with bushy pink hair wearing a polka-dot dress and sagging striped stockings. "I reckon that'll do it for them two."

Brynn tugged at Binna's arm. "Take me home," he said. "Right now—splickety-split."

Binna frowned at the boy. "That's ad ye can say? Ain't ye got a word of thanks for Jen here?"

Brynn shrugged. "She just done what she was told. That's no reason to thank her. And besides, she be a girl, a
human
girl without a drop of royal blood in her veins."

Kieryn cuffed her brother's ear. "I'd forgot what a spoilt brat ye be. Maybe I should've left ye in the trap and taken meself home without ye."

"Our mam would skin yer eyeballs dye did such a tom-fool thing as come home without me," Brynn said. "I'm to be king someday, in case ye forgot."

"King or no king, ye ain't worth the bother of talking to." Kieryn turned her back on him.

"Upon my red tenny shoes, that boy needs to be took down a bit," Skilda murmured to Binna.

Binna winked at me. "Don't ye worry. Ye can bet he won't be prating so biggety big with me around. I'd settle his royal nonsense quicker than quick."

"Maybe we could change him into a beetle or sommat even worse," Gugi said. "A roach, maybe. Or a maggot. That'd humble him for certain."

Brynn looked at his aunties. I thought he might say something nasty, but he changed his mind. Keeping his mouth shut tight, he put some distance between himself and the three old ladies.

"All right," Binna said with a clap of her hands. "It be time to start our journey home." She glanced at me. "This time I'd do the vehiculating, Jen. Not that ye done a bad job getting here, child. But, well, we don't want no snog-whistling coppers stopping us, now, do we?"

Believe me, I was happy to crawl into the little back seat of Moura's car. I'd had enough of driving for one day—and many more. I set the bags carefully on the door between my feet. Green lights glimmered through the velvet, but the buzzing had dropped to a low, tuneless hum.

Kieryn and Brynn squeezed in on either side of me, and the aunties wedged themselves into the front seat.

Binna wasn't much more skillful at driving than I was, but at least she could see over the top of the steering wheel. When we backed up instead of going forward, Brynn insisted he should take over the vehiculating, but Binna stepped on the gas and shot forward so fast we were thrown back in our seats.

"Dimbob booby," Brynn muttered. "How will she get us home? She be a melonhead if ever I see'd one."

Kieryn leaned across me to cuff Brynn. "Shut yer big boshy mouth. Binna be a fairy of the third degree, and if ye don't watch out, she'd sped ye, just like she done them two mortal fools."

"She wouldn't dare," Brynn said. "I be the future king."

"Ye don't know what I might dare," Binna said, "if ye keep on with that king clappetytrap."

Unfortunately, Binna turned to scowl at Brynn. The car ran off the road and bounced along the edge of a fence, knocking it to pieces and startling a bull. I looked back and saw him rampaging down the road behind us, obviously aggrieved. Before the bull caught up with us, Binna regained control, and once more we were zooming toward home and the tower, the traps unbroken in their velvet bags.

After a few near misses involving a tractor, a hay wagon, and a dock of hysterical chickens, Binna parked the car in the woods behind the tower. The setting sun hovered above pink and crimson clouds, and dark shadows thickened under the trees.

"Carry them traps to the tower," Binna told me. "But dinna let yer father see ye. The rest of us'd be crows—we'd meet ye at the top."

In a moment, five crows dew up into the air and headed for the tower, black shapes against the rosy sky. Weighed down by the two bags, I clambered uphill after them, stumbling on roots and tangling my feet in vines and brambles. The bags grew heavier with every step. Inside, the trapped witch and warlock buzzed louder. Soon I could make out Moura's voice.

"Ignorant human child, you'll be sorry. lust wait and see."

"Be quiet," I told her. "Nothing you can say will change anything. You're trapped now, and so is Mr. Ashbourne."

"You'll soon beg for my help," Moura hissed.

"You're the one who should beg," I said. "
I'm
not trapped. You are."

She laughed. "We'll see who's trapped, dear, we'd see who begs. Those who put their trust in fairies soon regret it."

22

A
NGERED,
I
GAVE
M
OURA'S
bag a hard shake. She cried out in pain, and I shook it harder. "You be quiet!"

Her voice subsided into an angry hum. Struggling with the weight of the bags, I climbed to the top of the hill and paused at the edge of the woods. It was dark enough now for Dad to have turned on the kitchen light. I saw him come to the door and look out, then return to whatever he was doing—cooking dinner, probably. He must be wondering where Moura and I were. Whom did he miss more, I wondered, her or me?

I hesitated, tempted to run home and ted Dad I was all right. A chorus of caws stopped me. On the tower's roof, five crows perched, obviously waiting for me.

I crept from the trees into the bushes at the tower's base. Sure that Dad hadn't seen me, I opened the door and dragged the bags up the steps. At the top, I stopped to rest, breathless from the climb.

Five crows flew into the tower through a broken window. Pigeons stopped cooing and huddled together on the rafters. Mice scurried to their hiding places under the dusty eaves. A book fell from a table with a thud, and a squirrel dashed for the safety of the ivy outside the windows.

The crows shed their feathers and wings and resumed their own shapes.

"Ye took long enough," Brynn said. "We been awaiting ye on the roof, watching for trouble."

"The bags got heavier and heavier," I said,still breathing hard. "I could barely carry them. I was sure I'd drop them coming up the steps."

"That's
her
doing," Binna said in a voice so fierce the bags buzzed. "Even in that pisky trap,
her
's got power."

Other books

Face of Betrayal by Lis Wiehl
The Gold Trail by Bindloss, Harold
The Doorbell Rang by Stout, Rex
Harbinger by Philippa Ballantine
The Salamander Spell by E. D. Baker
Nothing gold can stay by Dana Stabenow
Portent by James Herbert
At Home with Mr Darcy by Victoria Connelly