B00JX4CVBU EBOK by Peter Joison Read Free Book Online Page B

and tendrilled. ‘It’s bloody Mrs Winslow.’
    Brooke looked around at her sisters. ‘What? Now?’
    ‘Ember, Chloe, use your fells, see what she wants,’ said Celeste.
    Ember did her mirror trick. She hunched over slightly and cricked her neck. Her fell was on. Chloe put on her fell of the Manor’s imaginary gardener and chauffeur. Out in the hall Ember flicked the switch for the outside lights and opened the door. There was nobody there. It was dark, and a dense mist made it hard to discern things even close to the house.
    ‘Oh hello, Mrs Ashton!’ came a voice over near the fountain. Old Mrs Winslow stepped out from behind the car. She was carrying two shopping bags. ‘I didn’t think you were home.’ Her jowls wobbled as she swallowed. Ember flinched. She looked like some giant frog.
    The large woman held up one of the shopping bags and plodded to the bottom step. ‘I know you didn’t finish your shopping, after the, ah … unpleasantness at the supermarket. So I bought you some supplies.’
    Ember frowned. Did something just move in one of the bags? ‘Ah, thank you, Mrs Winslow. That’s very kind of …’
    ‘Yes, yes, well my job here is almost done,’ said Mrs Winslow quickly. She looked around and waddled to the middle of the stony area. ‘I’m just going to put them down here alright?’
    Ember didn’t know what the fat old woman was up to but it didn’t feel right. She hoped Celeste was ‘watching.’
    Mrs Winslow stopped and put the handles of one bag over her arm. She produced a large knife from the other bag in her hand, raised the knife high and then slashed at the bottom of the bag hanging from her arm. Black runny mud immediately spilt out onto the ground, splashing the legs of the old woman. She didn’t seem to notice though, her eyes were bulging and terrible, and her mouth hung open.
    ‘What the hell,’ said Chloe.
    Mrs Winslow’s voice was now a horrible gargle. ‘It’s time girls. You can drop your fells you know.’ She then reached into the other bag and took out a struggling white rabbit.
    ‘Oh shit!’ yelled Ember. ‘Everybody! Help! Now!’
    ‘Skorn! She’s raising Scathers!’ Chloe screamed.
    Mrs Winslow raised the knife and said something unintelligible in her guttural voice and drove the knife into the rabbit’s stomach. The little animal let out a horrid high pitched scream, its legs jerked and it was still. The old lady held the bleeding rabbit over the mud puddle. Blood and steaming entrails gushed to the ground.
    To Ember it all seemed to happen in slow motion. She could feel Celeste and Brooke burst out the front door just as the blood from the butchered animal hit the swampy mud. A hole about four feet across appeared where the mud had been and a thick swirling column of blackness rose from its depths. A hot blast of fetid air hit the girls.
    ‘Everyone!’ yelled Celeste, ‘Destroy her!’
    The four sisters raised their hands, channelling each other’s energy, and when Celeste said ‘Now!’ they let loose. A white sphere of lightning surged from the girls on the steps and in an instant slammed into Mrs Winslow. Just before the Skorn-woman exploded, Ember was sure she saw her laughing.
    But it was too late. Black, flying wraiths rose from the pit, with eyes like dying stars and bodies of snaking, glossy cords. Scathers! 
    The four sisters stepped out onto the gravel of the drive and held hands for added strength. They formed another swirling ball of bright white-blue plasma in front of them, and sent it blasting through the air. It hit the rising nightmare column in an intense explosion. It must have destroyed dozens of Scathers, but more were soaring out of the hole every second. 
    A small orange blast hit the Scathers. Celeste looked around and yelled, ‘Get back inside, Aunt Lani!’
    In answer Lani stepped around the girls and raised her hands. ‘This is for my sisters, you bastards!’ Another orange ball of sparkling plasma hit the swirling