Shakespeare's Witch

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by Samantha Grosser


  He came just as the church bells tolling midnight faded into silence away beyond the trees, and Sarah struggled to her feet as he approached, off balance with her belly, heart racing with excitement and the effort and the fear of what was about to come.

  He looked no different, only pale as he had been in her dreams, but a stale, deep cold emanated from him, a chill that rippled through the air between them as he came near to her, and when he reached out a hand to take her fingers, the blood seemed to freeze in her veins: instinctively she took a step back. He was silent, watching her, but he did not let go of her hand and she could not find the will to break the connection herself.

  ‘Gentle sister,’ he greeted her, and his voice breathed inside her mind.

  ‘Tom,’ she whispered. She held his gaze, blue-grey eyes black now in the night, and a light in them she hadn’t seen before: another realm, the world of the dead. A shard of fear threaded through her, until the corners of his mouth lifted in a smile.

  ‘Your fate is yours to choose,’ he said, ‘and the promise you saw in the shewstone can still be denied.’ He moved closer, wrapping her in his coldness so that she shivered. But his nearness was intoxicating, his breath cool on her cheek and his mouth close enough that if she lifted her head she could kiss him. She wanted him with a fierceness that stole through her blood, but still she rested a protective hand on her belly and a part of her thoughts remained with the child, frightened for him to be so close to a spirit of the dead.

  Tom said, ‘Don’t be afraid. He’s safe. He was my gift to you and I would do nothing to hurt him.’

  She nodded, aware of the burn of the tears behind her eyes as he tucked his finger under her chin and lifted her face to meet his kiss. The chill of him lit through her, stopping her breath, a death proffered. It seemed to her a good way to die and she kissed him harder, drawing the fate he was offering deeper inside her, opening herself up to its touch, the child forgotten in this final surrender to death. The moment hovered, the chill spreading through her, until the child inside her kicked suddenly in protest. Both of them felt it, Tom’s belly pressed close against hers, and they stepped apart instinctively. Tom placed his hand on her belly, testing for the life within, and when the child kicked again, he lifted his face to her.

  ‘Stay,’ he murmured. ‘Stay for him. He needs you more than I.’

  ‘Wait,’ she whispered, understanding that this was a final goodbye and desperate to prolong the moment.

  ‘It’s time,’ he said, and his eyes crinkled in the smile she loved so well.

  She nodded, words too hard to find, eyes too filled with tears to see, and a new choice made.

  He bent to touch his lips to hers one more time, and then he was gone, vanishing into the air, and her hands were left holding nothing but the soft autumn night.

  She stood for a long time, gently caressing the tautened skin across her belly, and gradually the child settled and was at peace. Then, with a silent prayer of farewell that she lifted towards the moon, she stepped out of the Grove and into the forest to make her way home.

  Also by Samantha Grosser

  The Sorcerer’s Whore - Pages of Darkness Book Two

  England 1632.

  25 years have passed since the first fateful production of Macbeth, and the forces of evil are about to be reawoken.

  A cursed child …

  Six-fingered Mary Sparrow believes she was cursed at birth, and the bawdy house at The Cardinal’s Cap is the only home she’s ever known. Like most of the girls, she dreams of escape. But when an old man mysteriously drives her friend to madness, Mary begins to fear for her life.

  A dangerous path …

  Toby Chyrche also has hopes for a better future, away from the confines of the tailor’s shop where it seems his fate is set in stone. So when a chance meeting offers him a different path, he is only too eager to accept. Then the discovery of an old book of magic throws a new and shocking light onto the past - his mother had a brother, and that brother was a witch.

  A price to pay …

  As the old man’s shadow over Bankside lengthens, Mary is drawn into the growing web of darkness. Unable to escape its reach, she turns to Toby for help. But Toby has daemons of his own to face. Will possession of the book be enough to protect them? And what price will they have to pay?

  In this compelling and seductive sequel to Shakespeare’s Witch, nothing is as it seems …

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  Read the first chapter here.

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  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to thank the usual suspects who helped in the writing of this book. My husband Steve for unfailing enthusiasm, Dr Louise Pryke for encouragement, insight and inspiration, Jessica Gardner for edits, Deborah Frith for feedback, Bunny Star for eagle eyes, and last but not least, a huge thank you to all the players who have ever brought the Scottish Play to life.

 

 

 


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