The Witch in the Woods

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by Marian Broderick


  This bully, just like any other bully, did anything she wanted, no matter how much it hurt other people!

  Verbena stepped back into the clearing, grabbed the toad, and held it to her bony chest.

  ‘Gather round, sisters,’ she shouted. ‘The moon is over the top of the Great Oak. We will begin the spell!’

  With a flash of light, Verbena’s witch-animals all turned back into witches. They scuttled to the centre of the clearing and formed a circle around Verbena and the toad. A low humming sound filled the air as the moonlight crept towards them.

  I’d had enough. I stroked Charlie’s soft, floppy head one more time, got up and stepped back inside my magic star. From across the clearing, I heard Mrs Winkle’s voice.

  ‘Go on, Anna,’ she said. ‘You can do it!’

  I looked at her. Her wand was bent, her glasses were cracked and her hair had gone all frizzy – but she had held her own corner against a whole pack of witches. If she could do that, then the least I could do was try one more time to save Mary.

  I stared straight into Verbena’s pale, laughing face, then I pointed at the sky and said the first rhyme that came into my head:

  Come stormy cloud, thunder and hail,

  Drive this witch from moonlight pale,

  Her magic causes too much pain,

  So drown her spells with pelting rain!

  I felt a stream of power flowing like fire through my body. In the sky above our heads, a strange grey-white cloud appeared and blocked the moonlight. A fork of lightning shot from its middle into the clearing. It zapped two of the witches, and they limped away, yowling.

  ‘Good work, Anna!’ shouted Mrs Winkle.

  Thunder rumbled and a few fat, heavy raindrops fell. Hailstones the size of eggs dropped from the cloud and bopped all the witches on the head. Within seconds, rain and hail were pouring down and turning the clearing into a mud bath.

  ‘My Full Moon Magic!’ shouted Verbena. ‘My beautiful party!’

  The fire went out with a hiss. The decorations went soggy and fell into the mud. The crow choir spread their wings and flapped away.

  Verbena ran over to the witches and pushed two of them in my direction.

  ‘You useless lumps!’ she shouted. ‘Finish off that girl, once and for all!’

  The two witches swivelled their black eyes toward me. They advanced, slowly raising their wands.

  ‘Again, Anna!’ urged Mrs Winkle.

  I pointed my index finger straight at the two witches and chanted:

  If evil actions you intend,

  I will take your wands, and send

  A candyfloss for you to lick -

  But poisoned so it makes you sick!

  There was a small flash of light. When I looked again, the two witches’ wands had turned to candyfloss.

  They were so greedy and stupid that they stuffed their faces with the pink sugary goo. But after a few bites, they dropped the candyfloss and started rolling around on the ground, moaning and holding their stomachs.

  I ran to Mrs Winkle. She looked at her expensive broken wand, sighed, and threw it into her bag. We stood side by side and raised our hands together. I chanted in a loud voice:

  Witches of the wood at night,

  We command you to get out of sight!

  Lose legs and arms and hair and all,

  Fall on your tums – and learn to crawl!

  One by one, the remaining witches dropped to the ground, screeching in pain. Their clothes and hair vanished, and scales appeared all over their bodies. Their arms and legs dropped off. One by one, they turned into slithering snakes and inched away into the woods.

  Except for Verbena. She stood in the middle of the muddy clearing, trying to kick the little green toad and screaming her head off in pure temper.

  I looked up at Mrs Winkle.

  ‘May I?’ I said.

  ‘Please do,’ she said, her blue eyes twinkling.

  I pointed one finger at Verbena and one finger at the little toad and chanted:

  The final spell that I can do

  Will bring a change to both of you;

  Friend, lose that shape with no delay,

  Witch, take her shape and stay that way!

  There was a blinding flash of light and, once again, I felt magic power surge through my body. When the smoke cleared, Mary was standing blinking in the clearing – next to a warty, grey toad with round, staring black eyes.

  ‘Yes!’ I shouted and punched the air.

  ‘Well done, Anna,’ said Mrs Winkle, patting my shoulder.

  I stared at the toad. It stared back, gave one angry croak and waddled away into the trees.

  The rain stopped, the magic cloud blew away and the first glimmer of dawn crept into Coldwell Wood.

  12. A WONDERFUL SURPRISE

  Back in the kitchen at Crag Road, I slumped in my chair and watched Aunty Grizz scrape burnt toast into the sink.

  ‘Mary’s still sound asleep upstairs,’ said Aunty Wormella, bustling in.

  Grizz slapped the toast on a plate in front of me.

  ‘I still don’t understand, Anna,’ she said. ‘You and Mrs Winkle defeated those horrible witches – but what’s happened to Charlie?’

  I laid my head on my arms. Once again, tears welled up in my eyes and rolled down my face. This happened every time I thought about poor, brave Charlie.

  ‘We had to get Mary out safely,’ I said. ‘By the time we finished off Verbena and her gang, Mary had been a toad for ages – and when I turned her human again, she looked really weird and out of it.’

  ‘So you had to get Mary back as quickly as possible …?’ said Aunty Wormella, sitting beside me.

  ‘Yes,’ I whispered. ‘And I left Charlie behind!’

  I threw myself into Wormella’s arms and burst into sobs.

  ‘There, there, dear,’ she said, stroking the top of my head. ‘He may still be all right. Cats have nine lives, you know.’

  ‘But he wasn’t even moving or breathing!’ I cried. ‘He was … he was dead!’

  I wiped my nose on my sleeve.

  ‘I have to go to him,’ I said. ‘I have to go to him NOW!’

  I got up from the table, but my head went dizzy and I sat down again with a thump.

  ‘You’re not going anywhere,’ said Aunty Grizz, placing orange juice in front of me. ‘Not until you’ve had your breakfast and a rest.’

  ‘But Aunty!’ I said, ‘We have to at least give him a decent burial. He was so brave!’

  ‘Yes, of course he was, my dear,’ said Wormella. ‘And Aunty Grizz and I will come and help you …’

  She was interrupted by a sharp rap on the front door.

  ‘What now?’ said Grizz.

  ‘I’ll get it,’ said Wormella.

  She trotted out and I laid my head on the table again. I heard some muffled voices, and steps coming up the hallway. I opened my eyes and sat up.

  Mrs Winkle was standing in front of me – and in her arms she was carrying something in a blanket. As I stared at the blanket, out poked a black, furry head.

  I leapt out of my chair so fast it toppled over.

  ‘Charlie?’ I shouted. ‘Charlie, boy! Is it really you? Are you all right?’

  ‘Here you are, Anna,’ said Mrs Winkle, handing him to me. ‘Take good care of him. That’s a very special cat you have there.’

  I gathered Charlie into my arms and tickled his ears. Even though there was a white bandage wrapped around his middle, he was purring like an engine.

  ‘But how did he survive, Mrs Winkle?’ I whispered. ‘You didn’t … you didn’t bring him back from the dead or something …’

  ‘Don’t be silly!’ said Mrs Winkle. ‘First aid, Anna, first aid – better than any magic sometimes. You can go on a first-aid course next term, if you like. That is, if you promise to return the book you stole from my office …’

  She peered at me over her glasses and I went red. Grizz tutted and crossed her arms, while Wormella shook her head sadly. />
  ‘Sorry about that,’ I said in a small voice.

  ‘And please promise me,’ said Mrs Winkle, ‘That you’ll start taking your studies a lot more seriously in future. You got away with it this time – just about. But your magic was most unreliable! I expect to see you at the Witches’ Workshop next month, and every month after that!’

  I smiled.

  ‘Anything you say, Miss!’ I said.

  I laid Charlie gently down on the table and stroked his head. He gazed at me with bright, golden eyes and licked my fingers.

  ‘You’ve been such a brave boy!’ I whispered to him. ‘It’s the least I can do!’

  ‘Who’s a brave boy?’ said a sleepy voice from the doorway.

  It was Mary, standing in her pyjamas and rubbing her eyes.

  ‘Oh, right, the cat,’ she said. ‘Listen, never mind about him. Can anyone tell me why my feet are all muddy?’

  I glanced at her feet and burst out laughing. They were filthy up to her ankles and they had leaves and grass stuck all over them.

  ‘Anna!’ said Mary, starting to giggle. ‘Is this another one of your practical jokes? I’m so going to get you back!’

  She plonked herself down at the table.

  ‘But first,’ she said, ‘I’ve just got to tell you about this amazing dream I had last night!’

  ‘Was it about witches, by any chance?’ I said.

  Mary’s eyes opened wider.

  ‘How did you know?’ she said.

  ‘Just a hunch,’ I said, smiling and cuddling Charlie.

  And we all sat around the table, as Mary told us about the witch in the woods.

  HAVE YOU READ ANNA’S FIRST ADVENTURE, THE WITCH APPRENTICE?

  TURN THE PAGE TO READ THE FIRST CHAPTER…

  1

  LEAVING SUNNY HILLS

  I couldn’t believe my eyes when I first saw number 13 Crag Road. No wonder everyone at the Sunny Hills Children’s Home had sniggered when I’d said it was going to be my new home.

  Everything about number 13 was crooked. Its walls were crooked, its chimneys were crooked. Even its doors and windows were crooked.

  It looked like it was going to fall over any second.

  But crooked or not, number 13 was my new home. You see, the two ladies who owned the place, Grizz and Wormella Mint, had adopted me.

  My name’s Anna Kelly. I don’t have any parents, and I have never had a proper home. I’ve been at Sunny Hills Children’s Home since I was a tiny baby. By the time I was nine, so many people had decided NOT to adopt me that I had grown used to the idea of spending the rest of my life at Sunny Hills.

  But I wasn’t happy about it, not one bit. Well, you try sleeping six to a room in a big old barn of a place, and see how much you like it. You couldn’t call anything your own at Sunny Hills!

  So when Grizz and Wormella turned up, promising me a pink-and-white bedroom with its own private bathroom, a posh new school, new clothes, weekly pocket money and my own TV, I felt like I’d won the Lotto!

  They had been so sweet in Mrs Pegg’s office. So sweet and so keen to have me. Very, very keen.

  ‘Anna, darling,’ the skinny one had cooed. ‘You’ll have the run of the house! You’ll be able to do exactly as you like!’

  ‘Thanks, Miss!’ I said.

  ‘Call me “aunty”, dear,’ she crooned.

  The run of the house! Able to do what I wanted! That suited me just fine. I was used to a lot of rules and regulations at Sunny Hills. It was porridge at 7.00am, lights out at 9.00pm, that kind of thing.

  But now! Now life was looking up! The two old dears’ only wish was to pamper me. I’d get new clothes, new toys … and I’d be going to the nicest school in town, St Munchin’s!

  I’d always really wanted to go there. The place had everything – outings, after-school clubs, and sports. Lots and lots of sports. This was brilliant because I was mad keen on football – and I wasn’t bad at it either, if I do say so myself.

  All in all, St Munchin’s sounded like something out of a storybook.

  ‘It’s a brand new start for you, Anna Kelly,’ Mrs Pegg said, as she bundled me into the cab with the two ladies. She bent and put her lips close to my ear.

  ‘Don’t muck it up!’ she hissed. ‘Do as you’re told. Keep your room tidy. And above all, Anna …’ Mrs Pegg’s voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Try to keep that stubborn streak of yours under control!’

  Stubborn? Me? Just because I had staged a sitdown protest to force the management to give us chips every Friday. It wasn’t my fault the whole of Sunny Hills joined in …

  So I promised Mrs Pegg I’d be a model child – and I had every intention of keeping that promise. This was my big chance, and it was going to get me out of Sunny Hills for good.

  I must admit, though, I had a lump in my throat when I looked out of the back window of the car, and saw Mrs Pegg wiping her eyes with her hanky. She wasn’t a bad old stick, after all – and she was the closest thing I had to a mother.

  But I swallowed hard, faced the front, and thought about the fantastic new life ahead of me.

  It took exactly a minute after arriving at number 13 Crag Road for me to realise I’d made a mistake. A big, BIG mistake.

  * * *

  As soon as the front door slammed behind me, my two new aunts changed. Especially Grizz, the skinny one.

  In Mrs Pegg’s office, Grizz had been kindness itself, all smiles in every direction. Now she planted herself in the hallway and pointed a long fingernail up the gloomy stairs.

  ‘Right,’ she barked. ‘Show the girl to her room, Wormella.’

  The girl? Was that meant to be me? What happened to ‘Anna, darling’?

  ‘Yes, sister,’ piped Wormella.

  In contrast to Grizz, who seemed to have grown taller and pointier since she got home, Wormella seemed to shrink into a small, pudgy ball. She pattered up the stairs in front of me, leaving me to carry my heavy bags by myself.

  My bedroom turned out to be a tiny, dusty little attic with bare floorboards. No TV, no wardrobe, and no bathroom. Just a hard little bed and a battered cardboard box to keep my things in.

  I was horrified.

  ‘Aunt Wormella,’ I began – but she had disappeared down the stairs without another word.

  It didn’t take long to settle in – there wasn’t room to swing a hamster, let alone a cat. I wandered back downstairs to the brown, dirty kitchen and peeped through the open door.

  The two sisters were sitting hunched over a wooden table, giggling like naughty schoolgirls. The air was foggy with the steam that poured from a huge, black cauldron bubbling on the cooker.

  ‘Now that we’ve got a dogsbody to do all the dirty work,’ Grizz was saying to Wormella. ‘Our spells are bound to start working!’

  Dogsbody? Dirty work? Spells? What were they talking about?

  ‘Ahem!’ I coughed.

  The aunts looked up, startled.

  ‘Have some nettle tea, dear,’ said Wormella quickly. She handed me a chipped mug and a plate. ‘Help yourself to bread and butter.’

  I sat down and took a bite of the bread. It was gritty like it was made out of gravel or something, and the butter on top wasn’t yellow – it was grey.

  I gulped a mouthful of tea. That was disgusting too, and tasted like nettles mixed with wee, but at least it washed down the bread.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, and tried to smile as I pushed the mug and plate away.

  ‘Right, girl, rules of the house,’ barked Grizz. ‘Number one: you will work hard. Number two: you will work hard. Number three: you will work hard.’

  Grizz howled with laughter at her own joke and then folded her arms.

  ‘That’s all,’ she said. ‘Goodnight.’

  And that was that. The end of my first day in my new home.

  The Witch Apprentice by Marian Broderick, ISBN 978-1-84717-129-0

  Available in all good bookshops

  About the Author

  MARIAN BRODERICK is a nasty
lady who has written many unpleasant books for The O’Brien Press. She claims she isn’t a witch, but her kitchen is always full of green smoke, and she has been spotted dancing with cats in the moonlight. Her hobbies are polishing her warts, singing like a crow – and forcing little children to dig up her garden. If you see her, run away very fast!

  ‘ANNA THE WITCH’ BOOKS

  THE WITCH APPRENTICE

  THE WITCH IN THE WOODS

  Copyright

  This eBook edition first published 2012 by The O’Brien Press Ltd,

  12 Terenure Road East, Rathgar, Dublin 6, Ireland

  Tel: +353 1 4923333; Fax: +353 1 4922777

  E-mail: [email protected]

  Website: www.obrien.ie

  First published 2008

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-84717-423-9

  Text © copyright Marian Broderick 2008

  Copyright for typesetting, layout, editing, design, illustrations

  © The O’Brien Press Ltd

  UNAUTHORISED COPYING IS ILLEGAL

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or utilised in any form or my any means, including electronic, digital, mechanical, visual or audio, or mounted on any network servers, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Carrying out any unauthorised act in relation to a copyright work may result in both a civil claim for damages and criminal prosecution. For permission to copy any part of this publication contact The O’Brien Press Ltd at [email protected].

  British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

  A catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library

 

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