Witch in Winter by Kaye Umansky

Author:Kaye Umansky [Umansky, Kaye]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster UK

I want you, she thought. You can come home with me and live in my garden for ever.

Well. Who wouldn’t want a reindeer, with its strength and speed and—? Actually, most people, I should imagine. You might love a reindeer but you wouldn’t really want it. Who would clear up after it? Or feed it when you were away on holiday? Wouldn’t it take up too much space? Mightn’t it skewer you on its amazing antlers? But Sylphine wasn’t most people and didn’t think like that.

She should have known better, of course. Not that long ago, there had been an incident with a unicorn in a magical emporium that hadn’t gone well. Large, muscular animals with sharp pointy things growing out of their heads were probably best avoided by Sylphine. But when she fell for an animal, she fell hard.

Of course, the reindeer clearly wasn’t wandering free. Sylphine could see that it was employed to pull the weird-looking house on runners.

I bet the cruel owners treat it mean, thought Sylphine. Hanging those horrible bells around its neck for a start.

The reindeer stood in the middle of the glade. The evil bells jangled tunelessly as it eyed Sylphine, chewing slowly on a mouth full of moss.

Sylphine approached at a half crouch, hand extended encouragingly.

‘Hello, Mister Reindeer,’ she said, using her special low, soothing, trust-me-I’m-a-friend-of-all-animals voice. ‘I’m Sylphine and I’m a friend of all animals. Do you like oats? I’ve got oats in my garden. Have you got a name? Do you know anyone called Rudolph, or is that just a made-up story? Come on, Mister Reindeer, don’t be shy—’

‘Whachoo doin’?’ said a voice from behind.

Sylphine gave a startled yelp and whirled around. Staring at her from under the low, snow-filled branches of a tree was a girl.

She was probably around the same age as Sylphine, but there the resemblance ended. This girl wasn’t trying to look like a wood sprite. Definitely not floaty or dancy. Instead she was slouchy and slumpy. She had a long nose and a down-turned mouth. Her hair was mouse-brown and stuck out at weird angles. She wore a shapeless tunic and baggy trousers with sagging pockets. Her hands were stuffed into the pockets and her feet were rammed into down-at-heel shoes.

‘I . . . I was just saying hello to this reindeer,’ said Sylphine.

‘Why?’

‘Because . . . well, I love him.’

‘He don’t love you, though, do he?’

It was true. The reindeer was moving away, giving Sylphine dirty looks over its shoulder. At least the evil bells weren’t so close, which was a relief.

‘Is he yours?’ asked Sylphine. ‘Do you live in that weird house on skis?’

‘None o’ your business.’

‘What do you call the reindeer?’

‘Not tellin’.’

‘Why not?’ said Sylphine. ‘I just want to make him like me. It’s easier to be friendly when you know someone’s name. Mine’s Sylphine Greenmantle. What’s yours?’

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