The Hedge Witch by Cari Thomas

Author:Cari Thomas [Thomas, Cari]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2020-06-23T17:00:00+00:00

After the stones, things felt different. The days began to fly like birds, measured out by passing clouds, bouts of sunshine, and bursts of drizzle. Whatever the weather, Rowan and Winnie spent their mornings out in the garden with the hedge, their afternoons in the kitchen: chopping, boiling, steeping, drawing the magic out of their spoils, and the evenings – the evenings were fuelled by the stars, Rowan had been meeting up with the trio every few nights …

She was due to meet them again at the weekend and could hardly wait.

‘Pass the shears.’ Winnie extended a hand and Rowan gave her a pair of shears and returned to her own hedge picking. Winnie hummed an unknown, sprightly tune as they worked. The hedge was rich with life this morning, butterflies and bees buzzing about and berries and fruit plumping along its stems. Rowan had to admit, she was starting to grow fond of the hedge. She liked how it never stayed still, how it was always changing, things dying back, new things growing, every day a different season in its world. It felt as if she was beginning to get to grips with hedgecraft too. Her muscles were knots, her arms scratched, her ankles stung, she still caused several minor magical incidents a day and had to ask questions constantly, but the dots of Winnie’s methods were slowly beginning to connect up – even if the dots were all over the place and often contradictory.

Worryingly, Rowan had even caught herself staring at the hedge yesterday …

Her mum had laughed on the phone. ‘You’ll be wearing a hedge on your hat before you know it.’

‘I will not! My hair is big enough without sustaining a bush on top.’

Bertie hooted. ‘Oh, I miss you, my girl.’

‘I miss you too.’

‘Have you spent any more time with that local girl, Laila?’

‘Oh, a bit.’ Rowan had lied. ‘Now tell me all about home, what’s the latest?’

Rowan didn’t know why she was lying to her mum. She never lied to her mum. It wasn’t like she was doing anything bad with the others – they weren’t drinking or vandalizing or casting rogue spells – and she was normally home not long after midnight, but even so, she was sure her mum and Winnie would not be pleased if they ever found out. And … she liked having a secret. It made her feel like an insider, not an outsider, for once. She felt like if anyone else found out it would all come crashing down, she’d wake up, as if from a dream and remember she was only Rowan Greenfinch: the odd, plump girl who no one wanted to hang out with. Here, she had friends, even if she was still struggling to understand the group.

Laila was hard to predict – sometimes she was the girl with the sunshine smile that Rowan had first met that day in town, but other times she was distracted and melancholy, lost in her imaginings. There’d been a fresh incident – all of the vegetables in the local allotment had exploded overnight.

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