Witch Catcher by Mary Downing Hahn

Author:Mary Downing Hahn [Hahn, Mary Downing]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fairies, Fantasy & Magic, Fiction, Juvenile Fiction, Animals, General, Family, United States, People & Places, Fathers and Daughters, Witches, Single-Parent Families, Cats, Parents, Pets, West Virginia
ISBN: 9780618504572
Google: mvNlMZnyCj8C
Amazon: 0547577141
Publisher: Sandpiper
Published: 2006-06-07T06:00:00+00:00

13

"LOAD THEM IN BACK," Mr. Ashbourne said in his suave English voice.

I heard Dad put the paintings in the back seat carefully, one at a time, breathing hard as he wrestled with them.

"Where did jen run off to?" Moura asked.

"She can't have gone far," Dad said. "I told her to stay close to the house."

"Thanks, Hugh," Mr. Ashbourne said, obviously unconcerned with my whereabouts. "Your uncle's paintings will have a good home. And don't forget the books you mentioned. I'd like to go up to the tower and take a look at them one day soon."

The van door slid shut. We felt the tilt of Mr. Ashbourne's weight as he settled himself behind the wheel.

"Good afternoon," he called to Dad and Moura. "I'll be in touch."

When the van moved forward, my stomach lurched. If only I were dreaming this. I couldn't remember ever being more scared or feeling so helpless.

Mr. Ashbourne turned on the radio and hummed along with a piece by Mozart that I'd once played when I was taking flute lessons. Beside me Kieryn lay still, as tense as Tink when he was about to pounce on something.

We rode up hill and down, along a winding road, stopping perhaps forty-five minutes later. Mr. Ashbourne got out of the van and opened the sliding door. One by one, he began removing the paintings.

"May I help, sir?" a man asked.

"Yes, take these to the drawing room, Simkins."

"Yes, sir."

The men's footsteps crunched on gravel as they walked away. Cautiously, Kieryn crept out from under the packing quilt and peered through the van's rear window.

"It be a big tall mansion of a house," she whispered, "with towers and all and more chimneys than I ever did see, made of pinky orange brick all covered with ivy. Grand. Him's rich as a king in this world, him is. on the fairy gold he stole."

"Have they both gone inside the house?" My legs ached from being curled up so long, and I yearned to have a good stretch.

"Aye, and taken Mostyn's paintings with them, the boshy pair. What do him want with my portrait?"

"Who's the other man?"

Kieryn hissed in contempt. "I reckon they found him in yer world and won him over with pisky lies and promises."

Cautiously, I poked my head out from under the blanket, but I didn't dare join Kieryn at the window. "What should we do now?"

"Wait till dark and sneak inside. We'll search the place till we finds them snarky traps."

"What if Mr. Ashbourne has a dog like Cadoc?"

Kieryn twitched her tail. "I gave the van a right good sniff. Not a stinky whiff of hound anywhere."

She crawled under the packing quilt and curled up. "We might as wed sleep a while to pass the time till night."

Unfortunately, it wasn't as easy for me to nap as it was for Kieryn. In cat form she was a natural sleeper. Not me. I imagined dogs or even wolves creeping around the van, sniffing me out. I worried about Dad, standing at the door, calling my name over and over again.

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