The Ragwitch
of pyramid, breaking the tangled ring and giving it an ordered shape.
    She worked quickly. In minutes the nest was no more and the pyramid was complete: a neat construction of sticks, as tall as Paul. He watched, fascinated, as the Ragwitch drew designs in the red earth around the pyramid—strange symbols that were all straight lines and nasty looking pictures, like some ancient form of writing.
    She didn’t look at Paul until the writing was complete. Then, She stood up, looming over him. Even in the short time since he’d first seen Her at the nest, She’d grown rapidly and was now at least two meters tall.
    He noticed that She now had teeth as well—rows of thin, shark-like teeth, hideously out of place in that smiling, red-lipped doll’s face.
    She came closer, and Paul shuddered, watching the teeth as she leaned over him. But he made his eyes go out of focus—he wouldn’t look into Her eyes, not after the night before. Her breath struck his face, cold, and somehow smelling of darkness and fear. Paul stared his eyes into even more of a blur, and waited to be killed.
    Then the Ragwitch spoke, using Julia’s voice—a voice changed and tainted but still recognizably Julia’s.
    “You will stand here forever, boy, as a monument to those who would keep me penned here. Alive, unmoving, and wishing you were dead. Much like your sister. Yes, she still lives…but only inside Me!”
    The Ragwitch laughed again, and turned back to the pyramid of sticks. She extended her three-fingered hand, and began to chant: a rhythmic, dissonant series of words that rose and fell in a grating counterpoint, jarring Paul’s ears.
    As She continued the chant, sparks started to form about Her hand. The bright red flecks of light danced around, forming a globe of flickering light about her three fingers. Suddenly, the Ragwitch stopped chanting, and the globe of sparks flew forward into the pyramid of sticks, which exploded into flame. As the red flames flickered up, Paul felt a rush of cold bursting out from the fire, as though the fire itself were a giant, living icicle.
    The Ragwitch bent over and drew another sign in the red soil. The flames licked still higher, and turned green at the tips, and a dull roaring filled the air, like a rushing wave. She stepped into the fire and turned to face Paul with her arms outstretched. Paul saw that She was laughing again, but he could only hear the roaring and the cold blasting at him from Her magical pyre.
    Then the flames blew sideways, almost out to Paul’s feet. Each tongue of flame was like the petal of a flower, with the Ragwitch in the middle,cupped like a dragonfly in a water lily. The flames flickered once, twice, and then snapped back in a blinding flash. The pyramid exploded, sending burning sticks flying into the air, some landing on Paul, to scar him with their icy flames.
    There was no sign of the Ragwitch—and Paul found that he could move again. Numb from fear and disbelief, Paul’s first thoughts were of anger.
    “You were wrong,” he shouted at the sky. “Your magic’s no good. I’m going to find you and get Julia back! You won’t get away from me!”
    The shouting seemed to help a bit, and Paul felt strangely confident. Carefully, he began to gather the still-burning sticks, rearranging them into a rough copy of the Ragwitch’s pyramid.
    Together again, the sticks burnt heartily, washing Paul with cold. He looked at the red flames, had his second thoughts, and copied the last sign he’d seen the Ragwitch draw. The flames turned green at the tips, and the roaring sound began. Paul took a deep breath, screwed his eyes shut, and stepped into the icy heart of the fire.

2
The Forest of the May Dancers/The Sea Caves
    A VAGRANT WIND pushed leaves aside as it made an erratic progress through the forest, cooling the warm afternoon air. Birds called in the wind’s wake, hawking after insects that the sudden breeze had carried with it.
    Paul felt the wind against his face,

Similar Books

Poems 1962-2012

Louise Glück

Unquiet Slumber

Paulette Miller

Exit Lady Masham

Louis Auchincloss

Trade Me

Courtney Milan

The Day Before

Liana Brooks