Witch Catcher

by Mary Downing Hahn

  At the bottom of the cedar steps, Binna settled the glasses firmly on her long nose. "Where be they, Jen?"

  "Here." I ran to the trunk. "Moura locked it and put a spell on it."

  Her face tight with worry, Binna crouched beside the trunk and chanted strange words. Her voice rose and fed. Sometimes she sang, sometimes she hummed, sometimes she moved her hands the way Moura had. But nothing worked.

  "The spell be a strong one," Binna muttered.

  Upstairs, the battle continued, shaking dust and cobwebs down on our heads. The mastiffs barked and growled. Something large, probably Cadoc, began hurling itself against the door. How long could Skilda and Gugi keep him and Moura from fodowing us to the cedar?

  The tune Moura had hummed in the car came back to me, the way songs often do. Suddenly, I remembered why it had sounded familiar—it was the same tune the witch had hummed as she wove her sealing sped on the trunk. I started to hum.

  Binna turned to me. "That's it!" she cried. "Keep humming. I can feel the spell loosening."

  At last the lock on the trunk broke and the lid dew open. With her eyes safely shielded by Moura's glasses, Binna lifted out the globes. Deftly she pulled out the corks and out popped Kieryn and Brynn, tiny things one moment, full-size the next.

  "Get behind the trunk," Binna told them. "Cover your eyes. Don't look at the globes."

  As the two huddled together, the cedar door burst open, and Moura and Cadoc rushed down the stairs toward us. The mastiffs were right behind them, growling and snapping at their heels.

  Binna thrust one of the globes behind her. "Turn back!" she shouted at the aunties.

  The mastiffs stopped, confused for a moment by Binna's command. One's head swung toward the other. "Traps," Skilda whispered.

  Both mastiffs tied, but Moura was too eager for revenge to notice. "Kill them," she cried to Cadoc. "The fairy, the girl. Kill them both!"

  The hound leapt at us, huge, full of wickedness, his sharp teeth gleaming. Binna's hand dew up in a strange gesture. "Cadoc," she cried, "take yer true shape!"

  Cadoc instantly shrank into a rat. For a second, he stayed where he was, cluttering on his hind legs, his red eyes aglow, his hairless tail twitching as if he still meant to attack. Then he dropped to the door and scurried away.

  On her guard, Moura stood at the foot of the steps. She was obviously tired but not ready to surrender. "Surely, Binna dear, you mean me no harm," she said softly. "We share blood kinship, you know"

  She paused, gathering confidence from Binna's silence. "That wretched human child has the pendant that can take us home. Seize it from her and claim your rightful place among the witches. We shall honor you, respect you, reward you with riches."

  "But what of the fairy girl and boy?" Binna asked. "What of the human child? What will happen to them?"

  Moura's silvery laugh chilled my blood. "The fairies will remain sealed in the globes forever, not to be seen again." Then, turning her eyes to me, she added, "This one is mine. To do with as I wish. She has vexed Ciril and me far too long."

  Binna seemed to consider Moura's words, her expression unreadable. A chill crept over me like a shadow. Surely the auntie wouldn't accept the offer.

  Slowly, Moura began to advance, her body swaying like a snake's as she moved. She extended her hands. "Dear Binna," she murmured, "what companions we will be."

  "Truly?" Binna stretched out a hand, and Moura came closer, sure of herself now.

  "Truly," Moura echoed.

  "Dear, Moura," Binna whispered. "I fear ye be ... mistaken." With that Binna held up the red globe, its pattern swirling in a burst of magic light.

  "No!" Moura recoiled, but it was too late. Still screaming, she vanished into the trap, and Binna quickly corked the spout.

  "There, Mistress Witch!" Binna cried. "What think ye now?"

  The globe buzzed and vibrated, dashing a bile green light so brilliant that it lit the darkest corners of the cellar.

  "They say ye can't trust witches," Binna told Moura. "But don't be trusting fairies, neither, 'specially not them with witch blood in their veins."

  Winking at me, Binna changed into her familiar self, strange clothes and all. She dropped both globes into their velvet bags. "It's safe for ye now. The traps be in their bags."

  Kieryn and Brynn came out from behind the trunk, dancing with delight. Brynn shouted loud enough for Moura to hear. "Ye won't be ruling us'n after all, ye skitzy old hag."

  "Ye gets to stay here forever and ever," Kieryn cried. "But not us! We be going home!"

  Light flashed out of the bag,still bright enough to make our faces green. She hissed, she buzzed.

  "Oh, ye be mad now, Mistress Cicada!" Kieryn laughed. "But there's naught ye can do about it. Us fairies be smarter than ye thought!"

  Hearing the commotion, Gugi and Skilda came limping down the steps, their clothing torn, their hats askew, sporting a few cuts and bruises from their struggles.

  Skilda moaned and leaned against Gugi, but Gugi grinned and gave her a little shake. "Never mind this 'un. She always were a whinger and a whiner. We give that wicked hound an injury worsen any he give us."

  To Skilda, she said, "Ain't nobody feeling sorry for ye. Not now when we got her trapped."

  Gugi laughed. After a second's hesitation, Skilda gave up her long face and joined in the cackling. There were hugs then, and kisses, dancing, and singing. In the midst of it all, Kieryn held me tight and whispered, "Ye been a true friend, Jen. I'd not forget."

  "Don't be celebrating yet," Binna said. "We got her. but him isstill loose." She handed me the bags. "Do ye know how to operate a vehicle, Jen?"

  I clung to the bags, terrified of dropping them. "I'm only twelve," I said. "You have to be sixteen to get a driver's license."

  "License be pooked to blazes." Gugi said. "Can ye manage to vehiculate to his house?"

  "Here's why I be asking," Binna put in. "Us'n can turn crow and fly there, but we canna carry them traps. If ye can operate her vehicle, ye can meet us there with the wicked things."

  "It canna be so hard," Gugi said. "Whilst I were a crow, I seen great dumblings vehiculating along the highway. If dafties such as they can do it, what's to stop a smart 'un like yerself?"

  "But—"

  "But me no buts," Binna said. "Take them keys I seen on the table and vehiculate."

  With that, all five of them turned into crows and dew up the cellar steps and out the front door. Lugging the bags, I climbed the stairs in the usual way and got the car keys. It was hard to believe Moura wasn't there to stop me. Angry buzzes from the bag told me she would have if she'd been free to do so.

  As a precaution, I dumped both cups of tea into the sink and left the shop. I hesitated beside Moura's car, once sleek and shiny but now missing the windshield and a headlight, and badly dented. But I knew it still worked.

  Looking to the right and left, I saw the mailman turning the corner at the far end of the block. Fearing he'd ask what I was doing, I got into the car and stuck the key in the ignition. Next, I did what I'd seen my father do hundreds of times-turned the key, shifted from park to drive, and stepped on the gas pedal. The car shot forward and knocked over a trash can left by the curb. Panicked, I turned the wheel and almost hit a tree on the other side of the street. Obviously, there was more to vehiculating than Gugi thought.

  The mailman was coming up the sidewalk, dropping letters into door slots. It seemed to me he'd spotted my blunders. Aiming the car straight ahead, I pressed the gas pedal cautiously and shot past him.

  I ran through a red light I hadn't noticed and narrowly missed hitting another car. Horns blasted, but I kept going, heading for the open road outside town.

  It was then I realized I had no idea where Mr. Ashbourne's house was.

  21

  DRIVING WAS HARD WORK. For one thing, I had trouble seeing over the steering wheel—which was probably why I hadn't noticed that red light. I was scared to go fast, so cars kept passing me. Some blew their horns. One dr
iver made a nasty gesture as he sped by. Curves made me nervous. Stop signs frightened me. The sun was in my eyes.

  Suddenly a crow appeared in the road ahead of me. I braked, swerved, and came close to Wiring another tree. The crow turned into Gugi. She yanked open the passenger door and jumped inside.

  "Ye great ninny bob," she cried. "Ye're going the wrong way. Don't ye know where him lives?"

  Almost too angry to speak, I shook my head. "How could I? I've only been there once, and I was hiding under a blanket, so I couldn't see a thing. It was dark when we left and I was a bat or a squirrel, I can't remember which, but we didn't follow the road home, that's for sure."

  Gugi scowled. "Ye're a feisty lip swatter, ain't ye?" Then she laughed, showing a mouthful of crooked yellow teeth, and slapped my leg playfully. "Don't pay me no never mind. human child. I know ye be doing yer best. It's just I gets snarky sometimes and speaks rough."

  I guessed she meant it as an apology, so I asked as calmly as I could if she knew the way to Mr. Ashbourne's house.

  "Shush!" Gugi raised her hand as if to slap me but thought better of it. "Don't be saying that name out loud for all to hear. It be bad luck."

  "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'a
m, 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.