The White Witch by J. J. Morrison

Author:J. J. Morrison [Morrison, J. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: White Raven Books
Published: 2018-03-07T22:00:00+00:00

When she had gone, Alexander turned back for the house and saw Agatha standing on the path in the light of the doorway, holding the rope.

‘Is there something you need to tell me, boy?’

‘No,’ he said, and he began to walk past her into the house.

‘You have never been any good at lying,’ she said. ‘Listen to me. Don’t go over there alone. It could be a trap.’

Alexander stopped and looked at her over his shoulder.

‘I’m not going alone,’ he said.

*

Enola was fast asleep in her bed when Iris entered the chamber. Maid Morgan was snoozing on a chair by the fire. Iris went straight to the bed, drew back the covers and gathered Enola in her arms. As she turned to leave, she was startled to find Maid Morgan awake and standing in front of the doorway with a fierce look on her face.

‘Your service is no longer needed,’ said Iris.

Maid Morgan looked affronted. She straightened up and unfolded her arms.

‘It is my duty to look after her,’ she said.

‘Your service is no longer needed,’ Iris said again, pushing past her and leaving through the open door.

She climbed the back staircase to her own rooms and went to the small chamber adjoining the children’s nursery. There, she tucked Enola into a narrow bed and listened to the fire crackle comfortingly in the hearth. She wondered if she should wake her but decided against it for now.

As she watched Enola and smoothed out her hair, she noticed a small bump in the breast pocket of her nightgown. Slowly, she slipped her fingers into the pocket and pulled out the blue stone. She stared at it in the firelight. She hadn’t noticed it was missing. How long had Enola had it for? The stone was warm. As she turned it over in her hands, it grew warmer still. Soon it was hot, so hot that she dropped it on the floor. She rose from the bed and bent over the stone, watching, as it began to judder and glow from within. She stepped away quickly as light burst from the stone, illuminating the room. She covered her eyes. The light faded in an instant and, when she brought her hands down, Alexander was standing in front of her. He didn’t seem real. When she thought of him, she thought of the forest, of Agatha’s house. Here, he looked out of place. He stared about the room in wonder, like a boy who had found his way into a full pantry.

‘It’s nice here. No damp,’ he said, running his fingers over the gold candlestick on the mantelpiece.

Iris reached out and clasped his hand tightly. Then, she glanced over at the bed. Alexander fell completely still. He stared at the little mound beneath the blankets in silence.

‘Come,’ she whispered, leading him across the room. His hand began to tremble in hers when they stopped beside the bed and looked down at Enola. Iris smiled up at him, suddenly overcome with emotion. This would be the first and last time he saw his daughter.

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