Witch Catcher (16 page)

The short one cried. "Withouten the childern, there be no way home for us."

The leader hugged both. "Gugi, dinna cry and fash yerself. Skilda, cease yer tiresome tears. We ain't defeated as easy as
her
believes. We'll save our wee kinkind, never doubt it."

"Oh, Binna," Skilda sobbed. "
Her
be too strong—many and many times too strong."

"And
him
will come to help," Gugi added. "
He'll
bring more traps."

"Shut yer gaping big mouths," Binna said. "And listen to me. Both of ye. The human girl up there will take us to
her.
We'll sort things out right smart."

Gugi and Skilda did their best to be quiet, but their faces were full of misery and fear. I doubted Skilda could look happy even if she tried, but Gugi seemed made for laughing, not weeping.

"But she be locked in," Gugi reminded Binna.

Binna looked up at me. "Ye must jump."

"Jump?" I stared down, way down, at the three aunties. "I'd break both legs when I hit the ground. Maybe even die."

"Ye won't be hurt, timmytim," Binna said. "We have magic, ye know."

"But—"

"Just do it," Binna said. "Too much thinking do more harm than good, don't ye know?"

The three of them moved even closer together and formed a triangle below my window. They spread their arms. "Close yer eyes and jump. We'll catch ye with out magic, no harm."

I glanced at Tink. Before I realized what he was doing, he'd leapt out the window. I leaned out after him. "My cat!"

The aunties caught him.

"There, ye see how quick and easy it's done?" cried Gugi.

"Tink says he'd do it again if he could," Binna told me. "It were great fun—like a birdie flying through the air."

Safe in Skilda's arms, Tink peered up at me. If he could do it, so could I. Slowly I stepped onto the windowsill. Far below, Skilda set Tink down, and the three aunties spread their arms to catch me as they'd caught my cat.

Behind me was my room and my cozy bed. In front of me was the sky. Just beyond the treetops, the tower rose dark against the stars. A dim light glowed in its windows. Could Moura be there with Kieryn and Brynn?

I looked down. The three aunties looked up. So did Tink. He had nine lives. I had one. If those good fairies failed me. if they dropped me, if I fell—well, as Binna said, thinking did more harm than good. Moura had to be stopped.

I spread my arms. The night all kissed my face with cold. Taking a deep breath. I jumped.

T
INK WAS RIGHT.
It was glorious, just like flying. With barely a jolt, I landed in the aunties' arms.
Bounce, bounce—
and there I was, beside them. The dew on the grass chilled my bare feet.

"Aha!" cried Gugi. "That were as easy as snog whistling!"

I had no idea what snog whistling was, but I nodded enthusiastically. It hadn't just been easy, it had been fun—the same feeling you have when you finally jump off the high dive, splash into the water like a fish, and can't wait to do it again.

"Now, show us where
her
be," Binna said. "For I fear wc have no time to waste."

I pointed to the small lighted windows under the eaves of the tower. "I think she's up there."

The aunties studied the windows silently. After a few moments, Binna turned to me. "Did Kieryn share with ye the ways of changing shape?"

"Yes, but I can't do it by myself. I tried before you got here. But it just didn't work."

"We be of the belief that bats be the best choice," Binna went on. "We can help ye be a bat with us, but if ye dinna care to change, ye can wait here."

"I know all about being a bat," I told them, eager to dy again.

The aunties took my hands and we formed a circle on the grass. They mumbled and swayed and talked in odd rhymes in a language I didn't know. I felt familiar sharp pains shoot through me, and in a moment all four of us were circling upward. Left behind, Tink mewed.

Slowly we dew around the tower, peering in each window we passed. Moura was standing in the center of the room. In each hand she held a kitten by the nape of its neck. Kieryn and Brynn twisted and thrashed and yowled, but they couldn't free themselves. Moura regarded them, her eyes hidden by those glasses. At her feet, Cadoc watched, snapping at the kittens whenever he thought they might be in reach of his long, cruel muzzle.

The aunties settled themselves in the ivy by an open window, and I snuggled beside them, loving the feel of my wings wrapped around me.

"What do we do now?" Skilda whispered.

Binna frowned. "Patience, ye great twit. I be thinking on it."

"Me, too," Gugi said. "But I ain't be coming up with answers."

In the tower, Moura spoke. "You can struggle all you wish, fairy spawn, but you won't escape this time. Ciril is on his way with traps so powerful that no human can break mem, either accidentally or deliberately"

The kittens hissed and growled. Moura laughed. Cadoc rose on his hind legs and snapped. Moura raised the kittens higher. "They are not for you, hound!"

"Why can't they change shapes?" I whispered to Binna. "That's what we did before."

Binna sighed. "They be too young—fledglings, like. Their magic's not yet strong enough to defy
her.
"

"That's what I thought." I peered in the window again. Moura was holding Kieryn upside down by her tail, encouraging Cadoc to snap at her. I turned away, unable to watch.

"Surely you can do something," I said to Binna.

"Let me mull a wee while longer." Binna flipped upside down and hid her face in her wings. Gugi and Skilda did the same. And so did I. There we hung, four bats in a row, rocked gently by the wind in the ivy.

At last Binna unfolded her wings and peered down at the moonlit lawn. "
Him
approaches," she squeaked.

No sooner had she spoken than Ashbourne stepped cautiously out of the trees. He paused on the edge of the shadows, a slim figure dressed in black, bis eyes shielded by glasses. Behind him Simkins clutched two dark bags, waiting faithfully for his master to speak.

Ashbourne was in no hurry. First he surveyed the lawn, then the house. No lights, no motion, no sound. Dad slept soundly, oblivious to every thing. I knew nothing short of an explosion would wake him. Once he fell asleep, he was gone.

The only one watching was Tink. He sat on the terrace, as still as a statue of an Egyptian cat. No one noticed him hut me.

Ashbourne turned his attention to the tower. All four of us snuggled deeper into the ivy, fearful he might see through our disguise.

At last, he left the safety of the shadows and glided across the grass, his shadow skimming along beside him. Simians followed closely. I heard something in the bags clink.

"The traps," Binna hissed. Skilda moaned and Gugi squeaked.

At the foot of the tower, the two stopped again and looked toward the house. Still no lights, no motion, no sound. Dad slept on. undisturbed.

We heard the door screech as it opened. Moura called, "Is that you, Ciril?"

"Who else?" Ashbourne climbed the steps, his feet heavy on the treads.

"Have you brought the traps?"

"Of course."

Binna beckoned me to take her place at the window. "Be my eyes," she whispered. "I dare not look for fear them traps will draw me in once more."

I peeked out of the ivy. Through my bat eyes, the room was dim, blurry, out of focus, but I could see wed enough to make out Moura, Ashbourne, and Simkins, as well as the two frightened kittens. With a flourish, Ashbourne took the bags from Simians and pulled out the globes. They were magnificent, swirling with patterns of deep crimson, gold, and indigo.

Kieryn and Brynn closed their eyes and yowled, they twisted and flailed, they raked at Moura with their claws. Cursing, she urged Ashbourne to thrust the traps so close that the globes bounced against their bodies. Even though they couldn't see the colors, they must have felt their pull. With one last desperate meow, Brynn vanished. Though she fought for another moment or two, Kieryn disappeared into the other trap, sucked through the little spout in a dash.

Ashbourne pressed the stoppers into the spouts and laughed. "Now, my little friends," he cried, "let's see you escape this time!"

Beside me, the aunties burrowed deep into the ivy and wept tiny bat squeaks of despair. "Gone," Skilda sobbed. "Gone."

The two globes glowed with a fierce green light. They buzzed and vibrated, but Ashbourne thrust them back into the bags and handed them to Simkins.

"Hold on tight," he said. "Don't drop them."

"I'll be careful, sir. Indeed I will You can trust old Simkins. The imps are safe in my hands." Simkins bowed and nodded and practically groveled at Ashbourne's feet.

What a wretch he was. I detested him with every cell of my body—bat and human both.

As if she read my thoughts, Binna whispered, "Do nae waste yerself hating him. Save yer strength for what's to come."

Swiftly, silently, we dew down from the window and watched the three emerge from the tower. With Cadoc loping ahead, they crossed the lawn, their shadows inky dark. Tink still sat on the terrace, unmoving, cloaked in darkness. If the hound saw him, he gave no sign. I supposed bigger things were afoot.

As they entered the woods, Simkins plucked at Ashbourne's sleeve. "Please don't forget your promise, sir."

Ashbourne turned to his servant. "Promise? What promise?"

"A few drops of their blood, sir, that's what you promised me. lust a little. You must remember, sir."

I turned to the aunties in horror. "Their blood? Ashbourne promised Simkins some of Kieryn's and Brynn's blood?"

They chittered to one another in bat-speak, too low and too fast for me to understand. "Tell me what you're saying," I begged.

"Oh, there be a legend that says drink a drop or two of fairy blood and live forever and always." Binna stretched her wings and grinned. "But most legends don't tell the whole truth of it, as yon Simkins may learn."

"Beware, be wary ware what ye ask for when ye deal wf fairies and witches," Gugi added.

"Nae, don't ye be scaring wee Jen, ye great bogey," Skilda put in. "She need na fear us."

"Nor should she trust us," said Gugi in a voice so low I wasn't certain I'd heard her right. Surely I could trust the aunties. If they meant to harm me, they would have done so before now. Instead, they'd done then best to keep me safe.

From below, Moura cried, "Ted me you made no such promise, Ciril!"

Startled by the anger in her voice, Cadoc growled at Ashbourne. The man took a step back and bumped into Simkins, who began yammering apologies for being in the way.

Ignoring his servant's humble pleas, Ashbourne said, "I must speak to Moura in private. I have not apprised her of our agreement."

Simkins clutched the bags to his chest, causing an out burst of buzzing sounds and flashing light. "Please, sir, I've done much for you. Taken risks, endangered my pitiful mortal self. Not that I complain, sir. I live to serve—"

"Never fear," Ashbourne interrupted. "Simply trust me, my good servant. Indeed, I owe much to you."

If I'd been Simkins, I wouldn't have believed a word Ashbourne said, but the man nodded and bowed and watched his master lead Moura deeper into the trees. We four flew silently after them and hid ourselves in the branches over their heads.

"You must be mad," Moura whispered. "You cannot give a mortal man fairy blood, not even a drop. Do you want that baseborn clown to become as we are?"

"Hush." Ashbourne covered her mouth with his hand. "And hear me out."

I, for one, was glad Moura wasstill wearing her glasses. I didn't want to see the look in her eyes. She said nothing, and he continued, keeping his voice so low that I was grateful for my sharp bat ears.

"I promised him the blood in order to gain his help and cooperation," Ashbourne went on. "He has done more for our cause than you will ever know. Mortals can be useful guides in this sad world."

"But—"

"I said, Hush." Ashbourne spoke with anger, and Moura drew back. Cadoc growled but stayed beside his mistress.

"What is promised is not always given," Ashbourne went on. "In this case, will
not
be given. When we are ready to return to our world, I shall dispose of him."

"Ah." Moura let out her breath in a satisfied sigh. "I apologize, Cull. I should have known."

Without acknowledging her apology, Ashbourne spun on his heel and strode back to Simkins. "All's well, my man. I have Moura"s approval."

Simkins shot Moura a small smile, more of a leer. "Thank you, miss. It's good of you. Very good. I won't forget your kindness, your generosity, your—"

"Enough." Moura strode off into the woods ahead of the others, and we followed, invisible in the treetops.

"Where are we taking them, sir?" Simkins asked, still struggling with the twitching bags.

"Not to my house," Ashbourne said. "That hateful child may find her way back there."

"I think not," Moura muttered. "I've convinced her father to place her under my supervision. I've planned a shopping trip tomorrow." She paused and smiled. "I have a strange presentiment the child may come to harm somehow. An accident perhaps. Maybe a kidnapping. A disappearance.... All quite mysterious."

The sound of then laughter both angered and scared me. Chilled, I moved closer to Binna, eager to feel her warmth. A shopping trip, a disappearance—we'd see about that. If I'd had the courage, I would have swooped into Moura's hair and bitten her neck.

"But, sir," Simkins whined, "you haven't told me where we're taking the fairy spawn."

"It's not necessary for you to know everything," Moura snapped.

By this time, the three had reached the road where the car waited, silvery and sleek in the moonlight. Unlocking the doors, Ashbourne ushered Moura into the front seat and Simkins into the back, along with his bags. As silently as a cat, Cadoc leapt in beside Moura. Ashbourne slid behind the wheel and closed the door. The engine started quickly, almost silently, and the car raced away toward town.

Unknown to the driver or his passengers, four bats flew after it, barely stirring the air with our wings. I hoped Kieryn knew we were near.