Witch Catcher Read Free Page B

very real to him but he hadn't gotten it right somehow.
    The other paintings were of strange moonlit forests, dark lakes, rushing rivers, caverns. In some, menacing figures peered from shadowy places. They were barely visible, and as inhuman as the girl.
    I let the canvases fall back, raising a cloud of dust that made me sneeze.
    Still hoping to discover a gold chalice, a ruby diadem, or, at the very least, a pile of silver coins, I took another look around the room. That's when I saw the small glass globe. Revolving slowly in the lazy summer air, it hung at the end of a tarnished silver chain suspended from a hook high above my head. Like everything else in the tower, it was filthy, but under the dirt, I was able to make out a faint spiral pattern of colors. Cleaned up, it would look pretty hanging in my bedroom window.
    While Tink watched, I climbed on top of a table and reached for the globe. But, stretch as tall as I could, it was still beyond my grasp. I gathered an armload of the thickest books I could find, piled them on the table, and climbed on top. Just as my fingers brushed the globe, the books slid out from under me, and I almost fell. Startled by the commotion, mice scurried about madly and the pigeons flew out a broken window, their wings clapping like sheets of metal.
    Unfazed by the ruckus, Tink stared steadily at the globe, his ears pricked, his tail twitching.
    Determined to get the globe, I grabbed a rickety old chair and hefted it onto the table. After making sure it was strong enough to hold me, I stood on the seat and tried again to reach the globe. Grabbing it at last, I climbed down carefully and wiped the glass with the bottom of my T-shirt. I turned the globe this way and that, admiring its spiraling pattern of green, blue, purple, and gold. Where all the colors con verged, I discovered a little spout, tightly stoppered with a cork. The glassblower must have put it there for some reason, but I had no idea why.
    Tink rose on his hind legs and sniffed the globe. Dropping down on all four paws, he shivered and clicked his teeth as if he saw a mouse. But his eyes were on the globe.
    "What's so interesting?" I asked him.
    He mewed and reared up to reach for the globe.
    "Don't," I said. "You'll break it."
    I hid the globe under my shirt and hurried down the narrow steps. It was later than I thought, and I was worried Dad would call me for lunch. Shoving the tower door shut, I tried to relock the padlock, but as I fumbled with it, the rusty old thing fell apart in my fingers. Not knowing what else to do, I left the padlock on the ground and sneaked out of the bushes. With Tink bounding ahead, I ran across the lawn, hoping with every step that Dad wouldn't look out the window and see me.
    In a few seconds, I was safe on the terrace behind the house, peering through the screen door. Dad was still working under the sink. He didn't see Tink or me sneak past him and tiptoe upstairs.
    Leaving Tink in the hall, I locked the bathroom door and scrubbed the globe till it sparkled. When I held it up to the window, the sun shone through its rainbow of colors, casting a reflection on the floor—pale green, blue, gold, and violet shadows as delicate as moonlight.
    Later I'd tell Dad I found the globe in one of the empty rooms. Or up in the attic. Or down in the basement. But for now I decided to keep it a secret.
    Tink was waiting when I opened the bathroom door. Eyes fixed on the globe, he followed me to my room and watched me hide it behind a stack of games on a shelf in my closet.
    "You stay away from this," I whispered to the cat. "It's not a toy for you to bat around the floor."
    Tink clicked his teeth again and lashed his tail.
    I shut the closet door just as Dad called, "Jen, how about giving me a hand with lunch?"
     
    Not long after we finished our grilled-cheese sandwiches, the doorbell rang. Dad got to his feet quickly, his face flushed. "That must be Moura," he said. "Please be polite, Jen. She's our