Hocus Pocus by A. W. Jantha

Author:A. W. Jantha [Jantha, A. W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Disney Book Group
Published: 2022-08-02T00:00:00+00:00

INIFRED GROANED when she saw her reanimated ex scrounging in the dirt to find his own head.

“Ah, crust,” she said. “He’s lost his head.” She launched herself and her broom into a tight, angry circle. “Damn that Thackery Binx!” she cried. “Damn him!”

Beneath her, Billy bleated through his mouth stitches.

“Which way did they go?” Winifred asked, guiding herself closer to him.

He couldn’t speak, of course, but he didn’t point the way, either. She realized he must have gotten directionally confused when his skull went spinning. She looked around the graveyard and noticed a tunnel entrance partially hidden by climbing vines. The twigs around it were broken as if they’d been repeatedly trodden on.

“Billy,” she snapped, turning back to his desiccated corpse. “Listen to me.” His skin and spine crackled and popped as he forced his head back onto his body. “Follow those children, you maggot museum, and get my book. Then come find us; we’ll be ready for them.” She drifted backward, offended by the intensity of the dislike in his eyes. “Quit staring at me. Get moving down that hole.” With that, she led her sisters back over the graveyard fence, muttering “Damn. Double damn!”

Winifred landed lightly on the walk beyond the graveyard gate. In the distance she could see the bell tower of the small graveyard chapel, its delicate lines and single bell outlined white by the pale moon.

As Winifred hurried to the fence, she felt a shock of remembrance from having walked that precise path before. She’d stood there and clutched the gate and watched a graveyard wedding take place more than three hundred years before—had watched another Sanderson say her vows in the only place where Winifred and her sisters didn’t dare intervene.

“They’re here,” Winifred said. She could’ve meant the children, or she could’ve meant the wedding party. For a moment, even Winifred wasn’t sure.

The fence was wrapped with tendrils of dead and dying English ivy, and as she pressed her fingertips to the rough bodies of the vines, she imagined her own mortality and shuddered. It brought her back to the year 1993 and to the task very much at hand. “The children,” she said, her voice gaining strength. “And that flea-riddled cat. I know they’re here, but where are they?” She turned her face toward her brunet sister. “Sniff them out, Mary.” She ignored Sarah entirely, who had started to climb the gate—but to what end, if they could not step foot on hallowed ground?

Mary clenched her fists and breathed deeply. “They’re, they’re . . .” She pressed her face against the iron bars and gave a plaintive sigh. “Oh, I can’t. They’ve gone too far. I’ve lost them.”

Winifred snatched the lobe of Mary’s left ear and dragged her away from the fence. “I’ll have your guts for garters, girl,” she said, shoving her sister away. “Confound you!” Mary clutched at her aching ear, sniveling. “Very well,” said Winifred, almost to herself, “we must outwit them. When Billy the butcher gets here with my book, we shall be ready for them.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.