A Wild and Whispering Curse by Dalton Sarah

Author:Dalton, Sarah
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-10-16T00:00:00+00:00

I seriously need to give up on midnight snacking…

That night in Moss Manor, the heat is so bad I throw open the window as wide as it will go. There’s no breeze, and yet I still feel as though the tree, with its long fingers, wants to reach into my room. I sit at my desk by the window and sketch out the members of the ladies’ group.

The dream is still on my mind. I keep wondering if it was prophetic in some way. The mention of the sacrifice was so strange. But my mind may have conjured it in response to all the strange happenings in Mossbrook. After all, I’m just a girl from Sheffield who moved in with her aunt. There’s nothing special about me at all. I have no powers. I guess I can draw, and sometimes my emotions have a colour to them. Like right now, I’m orange. I’m scared and sad at the same time. Mossbrook was brown, but it’s moving into red territory now. The whole place thrums with an undercurrent of terror.

The circle of women take shape. Camilla is easy to draw, all straight lines and smooth hair. She has a hard glint in her eye. Miss Stevenson is always to her left, often staring at Camilla. It can be creepy sometimes, that level of devotion between Miss Stevenson and Camilla Clarke. Miss Stevenson reminds me of Renfield sometimes, with Camilla as Dracula, feeding her pet insects and promises. I draw Miss Stevenson with sheets of paper in her hands. She’s always nervous and unsure of herself, fiddling with papers, her sleeve, or something else. In contrast, Mrs Patel sits quietly with her arms folded. She rarely speaks in the meetings, and sometimes, I notice her roll her eyes at Camilla. When she does speak, she does so with the kind of authority expected from a secondary school teacher.

Next, there’s Tracy, the mousy woman from the library. I draw her with her head hung low. She’s a bit of a mystery, someone who could be putting on her nerves and shyness. When I draw her, I think of Heath and the way he tries to cover up his anxieties. Tracy isn’t like that. They bubble up to the surface.

Carol is next. She sits huddled on her chair, with rounded shoulders. She wears large glasses hanging low on the end of her nose. She seems genuinely nice, and I can’t find anything suspicious about her. Next to Carol is Katherine Morley, the ancient woman with the hearing problem. I sketch her drifting off into sleep. I can’t imagine her harming a fly.

And that leaves my aunt, the woman who can barely grip a knife, let alone cut open someone’s throat. That wouldn’t matter if witchcraft is real. According to the rumours in Mossbrook, the police found no trace of the killer on Jennifer Lowe. It seems otherworldly.

Magical.

Witchcraft.

I draw Aunt Erica facing Camilla, her eyes boring into the woman. If they hate each other, if

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