I am Alice by Joseph Delaney

Author:Joseph Delaney
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2013-07-23T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XIV

WHAT CAN YOU DO?

“YOU’LL be next if you don’t shut your stinking gob!” Lizzie cried, and I heard her clumping down the stairs toward me.

She pushed past, carrying the child, who was sobbing pitifully. She was a skinny little thing, no older than six. I suddenly felt angry. I raced after Lizzie, grabbed her arm, and brought her to a halt. She spun around to face me, eyes wild with anger.

“Why did you have to murder her mother?” I demanded. “Ain’t the rest of it bad enough without that?”

Lizzie glared at me. Had her hands been free, she’d have slapped me hard for sure. I was shaking with fear at what I’d just done—grabbing her arm and shouting at her like that. True, we’d had words before, but I’d never been so openly defiant.

“Know your place, girl, or you’ll be sorry!” she warned, her mouth twitching dangerously, showing how close she was to hurting me. “I just used a sleep-now spell on her. Her mam shouldn’t be dead, not unless she broke her silly neck when she fell. And that would serve her right for being so fat!”

With that, she strode off westward, into the dark, carrying the sobbing child.

I really wanted to help that little girl. But what could I do against Lizzie’s magic? If she stopped to sleep or rest, I might get a chance to try something, but it would be risky; I’d pay a terrible price if I was caught. I was probably wasting my time even thinking about it, because I knew she wouldn’t stop until we reached the water witches’ lair.

By morning there’d be a hue and cry—that was, if the mother did recover from the effects of Lizzie’s spell. If she had broken her neck, it might be hours or even days before neighbors found her body and realized that the girl was missing. But no doubt the witches were grabbing other children right now, and the hunt for the abductors would begin. Every able-bodied person for miles would be up in arms. Despite the distance from the mill, they’d finally alert the spook, Arkwright. His dogs and eyes might be baffled by the cloaking magic, but this whole area would be searched. I knew Lizzie wanted to reach that refuge as quickly as possible.

We got back well before dawn and found that the cloaking of the farm was still of the highest standard. Lizzie sniffed and cursed, studying the stars and the horizon in frustration for nearly an hour. I hoped she might hand the girl to me—I could pretend to stumble and allow her to make a run for it. But Lizzie kept a fierce grip on her prize every second of the way. Finally she backtracked and led us to a place where the air shimmered to reveal the house.

Betsy was waiting at the open door, and she grinned and beckoned us inside. As we followed her down the cellar steps, I heard the cries. The child Lizzie carried was still sobbing, but this was a loud wail from more than one child .

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