The Whitby Witches 3: The Whitby Child by Robin Jarvis Read Free Book Online Page A

surrounded by a frothing mass of water and the bird let out a terrified screech as it floundered helplessly.
    At once the entire host of gulls rose from the river, shrieking down at the bubbling surface in frightened alarm. Their comrade was still flapping in wild panic but its cries increased as it saw a dark shadow pass below the waves. Only when the trail of bubbles moved away was the gull free and it shot upwards to join the others.
    Hovering on the night airs, they watched the gurgling path advance towards the quayside until it came to a seething halt by the harbour wall.
    Above the rippling waves a black shape rose and the air darkened around it as shadows gathered to conceal what the sea had sent forth.
    From the river, the creature climbed. It was a formless horror like an immense and tarry amoeba that extended a thick, snaking arm to heave itself up the steps. With a vile squelching sound it slowly moved through the narrow cobbled streets, and where the great flabby bulk passed a stinking path of slime was left in its wake.
    Beneath the bedroom windows of snoring townsfolk it crept, with only one purpose filling its black mind. Towards Miss Boston's cottage it went, squeezing through the alleyway and oozing into the courtyard beyond.
    At the front door, the thing stopped and the snake-like limb melted back into the quivering body. Rolling forward, the creature pressed against the wall and glued its hideous shape to the brickwork.
    Clinging to the mortar, the bloated nightmare began to crawl and with a faint sucking noise, it stole upwards. Like a great black leech it slithered past the window of the sickroom and drew closer to its goal.
    Pulling itself to the upper window, the slimy horror spread out two strands of dank flesh and gripped the sill firmly.
    Within the bedroom, Ben muttered in his sleep and rolled over, kicking the blankets from him and pushing his head deeper into the pillows.
    The hideous shape pushed itself on to the window-pane, revealing a dim grey mass of liquid muscle like the underside of a snail. Flattened against the glass, frills of pale flesh parted and two clusters of eyes pushed forward to spy into the room.
    Glittering balefully, the fragmented eyes peered long at the sleeping boy and in the swirling fronds of slime a ghastly mouth fell open.
    Three tentacles stretched from the damp glistening skin and their sensitive, squirming tips began to feel all around the window, tapping and groping for a way in.
    Trapped in a gruesome dream, Ben whimpered. He felt as though a great dark cloud was smothering him, pressing itself against his nose and mouth. With an unhappy groan he turned on to his back, flinging his arm over the edge of the bed, and one by one his fingers fell open.
    On to the carpet rolled the ammonite and from the vileness that clung to the window ledge like some hellish fleshy spider, there came a gurgling and a contented sigh.

2 - The Bitterest Of Herbs
    Brandishing a large umbrella high above her head so that it afforded little protection from the inclement weather, Sister Frances marched over the swing bridge as though she were charging into battle. In her other hand she gripped the handles of a capacious brown shopping bag that had seen better days and was bound around and patched with various coloured tapes.
    It had been another wet morning, yet she was not one to mind a little bit of rain. The nun enjoyed the feel of the drops plopping on to her upturned face and would often hold her mouth open to by and catch them.
    Into the centre of every puddle she stamped her enormous feet, smiling broadly to herself with each satisfying splash.
    She was a bizarre figure: of all the nuns in the convent of the West Cliff, Sister Frances was undoubtedly the most unusual. Attached to those great, gauche feet were a pair of long, stalk-like legs that were perpetually hidden within thick black woollen stockings, through which her lumpy knees protruded like a couple of gnarled and bulbous