Witch Crag by Kate Cann Read Free Book Online Page A

about it, now it could be set aside.
    The horror of the witch, spinning and dying, looking straight at her, took over her thoughts. Things – confusing, challenging, terrifying things – were clicking into place in her mind.
    That night she dreamt she was chasing after Nada through the forest. She was scared that Nada was a ghost but she still ran after her. She went faster and faster as skinny winter branches caught at her face and tripped her. But the old nurse wouldn’t let herself be caught.

Two more days passed. The moon was no longer like a nail-paring in the sky, but bulbous, ominous. And as the moon waxed, and her departure as trade bride drew nearer, Quainy’s stoicism waned. She was anxious, tearful. That night, she cried herself to sleep with Kita failing to comfort her.
    An hour or so before dawn, the clanging of iron against iron woke most of the girls in the hut to the sound of heavy rain drumming on its roof. Rain collection was vital in the spring; the well had to be full for the long dry summer, and that morning the clanging was even more urgent than usual.
    â€œCome on,” Quainy groaned, shaking Kita, who was still asleep. “We’ve got to get in line. Kita, come on !”
    Kita sat up and rubbed her face with her hands. “I was deep in the most amazing dream,” she murmured, “about Nada again, but this time I caught up with her. We were in the middle of a wood, she told me to be strong, she told me to trust what I knew even if I didn’t have a name for it. . .”
    â€œLater, Kita,” snapped Quainy, pulling her to her feet. The two of them scurried out into the downpour.
    The rain was so heavy that the eight great sheepskin sheets filled in record time, and the bucket handlers had to work murderously fast. Kita’s muscles and sinews screamed as she seized handle after handle and passed the heavy brimming buckets on to Quainy. She didn’t dare to look further down the line to see how Raff was faring, but she heard the headman shout, “Keep up, boy, keep the rhythm, the girls shame you!” and she knew he’d been shouting at Raff.
    Then, as dramatically as it had started, the rain stopped, and the headman gave his welcome cry of “End! Fire! Soup!”
    Raff caught Kita and Quainy up as they hurried over to the fire pit. “My arms are out of their sockets,” he groaned. “How do you two do it?”
    â€œThat was harsh,” agreed Quainy. “That was faster than I’ve ever known it.”
    â€œAt least I didn’t fall over,” he muttered.
    They reached the crowd by the fire. Its glow illuminated the footsoldiers standing at the front; cocky, self-assured, they waited for the soup that would be passed to them first. Kita could see Arc’s strong profile against the firelight – he shook his dark wet hair over Bray, and laughed; she saw his teeth glint.
    Usually, everyone tried to huddle as close behind the footsoldiers as they could, to get warm, but Kita took hold of her friends’ arms and said, “Wait. Let’s stay back here.”
    Something in her voice made them stop, although it was risky for Raff to be seen in the company of the girls; he risked the young footsoldiers turning on him. But the moon was behind thick grey clouds still, and no one could see them so far from the fire.
    â€œWhat is it, Kita?” asked Quainy, as they sat down on the wet ground and huddled together.
    Kita knew she had to talk fast, because an opportunity like this might not come again before Quainy was sent to the horsemen. She didn’t know what she was going to say, beyond the first few shocking words; all she had were fragments that formed a vague and terrifying shape in her mind. She took in a deep breath, and began.
    â€œWe have to get out of here. All three of us. Quainy can’t become some old man’s slave; Raff can’t be bullied any more; I can’t bear to be here any