Free The Witch of Glenaster by Jonathan Mills Page A

down…
    I tried not to panic. I could
barely see my attacker, and they had caught me so off guard I was hardly
capable of defending myself. But I rallied, pushing back against the force
above, and reaching for what I thought might be its neck. I obviously managed
to get some purchase, for it seemed to yelp, and fall back, and that gave me
the time I needed to gather myself and haul my body upwards, above the water,
as I felt it enter my mouth and nostrils, stinging and choking.
    I retched and coughed for a
good minute, clearing my lungs, and rubbing desperately at my eyes. I was just
about aware of several people in the room – they seemed to have run in at that
moment – and when finally my sight cleared I saw that Thomas had an arm, and a
towel, round me, and Cornelius was standing open-mouthed in the corner. And
there, on the floor, dripping and red-faced with anger, was my attacker.
    It was my brother.
    We stared at each other for a
while, both breathing hard; he furious, I bewildered. And then he said:
    “I hate you!”
    I looked at his face, knotted
with rage, but still the face of a child, and felt myself weep. “I hate you!
You shouldn’t have brought us here! I hate this place! We should go back to our
village, to Mum and Dad…” I could see him struggling to contain his grief, and
I wanted to touch him, to reach out and hug him. But I knew he would not have
me. “You don’t miss them like I do! You’re a liar! You said we were going to
get help, from the emperor! But you just want to go off by yourself and leave
me behind…”
    “I don’t…”
    “You’re a liar! You’re just
sitting there as if nothing has happened!”
    “Mag, that’s not true…”
    “It is!” He was on his feet
now. “I hate you for what you’ve done to us. I want to go home. If Mum and Dad
are dead I want to die with them…”
    “Mag…”
    “I don’t want to be in this
place. I’m scared and I’m tired. I want Mum…” And he ran to a corner of the
room, his arm over his face, and his back to us, and cried bitterly. And I felt
my heart tear in two in that moment, for I knew I had failed him, as I had
failed myself. For he was right. We should have died with our parents. That was
our place. We had been lent this extra life, it seemed, not as a gift, but as a
punishment, as something to taunt and betray us; and I knew that nothing I
could say or do would make amends for that. I had become my brother’s enemy,
that thing I so least wanted to be. And I looked up at Thomas and Cornelius,
arms outstretched as if in supplication, and wailed. Then I passed out.

Chapter
Seventeen
     
    “You cannot go back.”
    When I came to, my head was
thumping painfully, and my throat felt dry and hoarse. I was in a chair, in
another room of the house, its broad window looking down upon the valley below,
and a small fire muttering in the corner. I was wrapped in a thick, long towel,
and balanced on a broad cushion, which raised me up so my feet were slightly
off the ground. I waggled my toes a little, and looked down at them. I had
always liked my feet. They made me laugh.
    The chair was wicker, with a
back that fanned out widely, and made the whole thing feel like something of a
throne; and, despite the circumstances, I even felt somewhat regal sat up
there, peering down at my toes. I laughed again, despite everything.
    Then I became aware of Thomas,
sitting in the window-seat opposite, smoking quietly, and gazing out at the
mountains. He did not smile at my laughter; indeed he hardly looked at me. And
then I remembered what had happened earlier, and a tear ran quickly down my
face. Thomas simply continued speaking, almost as if to himself.
    “The Watchers have your scent
now. They will be guarding the Plateau like hawks, in case you return that way.
I do not know what they want with you. But nothing makes sense anymore… I will
accompany you and your brother to Ampar , and find
safe lodging for you, until it is safe for you to