Free Daughters of the Witching Hill by Mary Sharratt

toward me, her fear turning to hunger.
    She saw the power in me, Tibb's power shining inside me like light within a lantern, and she yearned for power of her own. Could any soul blame her? How she longed to be something more than a cock-eyed spinster and the butt of everyone's ridicule. If she was a blesser, folk would think twice before crossing her.
    "So how do I come by a familiar then?"
    I sighed. "The spirit comes to you, love. You don't go chasing after it."
    "Well, how did yours come to you?"
    "He just appeared to me one day. I can't explain it."
    "He?" All at once her eyes straightened.
    I held my breath, wondering if our strange conversation had filled her with such an almighty awe as to cure her squint.
    "Tibb," I said. My cheeks went hot as I breathed his name.
    Liza sat back on her heels, her eyes never leaving my face. "I'd heard you calling out to Tibb whilst you were poorly after charming Matty Holden. Thought he was some fellow you'd been meeting in private like."
    I laughed till I was sore. "Bless you, my girl. Those days are over for me."
    But, in a way, my Liza was right. My meetings with Tibb were not unlike lovers' trysts. The rush of joy and fear, the shame and thrill of our forbidden bond, the secret that twined us together.
    "He's the power behind my every charm," I told her. "Sometimes he appears to me in the form of a young lad. Sometimes as a brown dog." A shiver gripped my spine. "And just today as a hare."
    Liza was speechless, probably wondering if I'd gone mad. Having second thoughts about wanting powers of her own, or so I hoped. Her eyes went on their crooked way again.
    "Till you have a familiar, you'll not be able to work a single charm, my girl. I'll teach you of the herbs, but it's best for you to leave the rest of it alone. You don't want to be mixed up in this business." I grasped her hand tight enough to make her look up at me. "You're my only daughter. Wanted to shield you from this, love. Should the tide ever turn and the Magistrate haul me away, I want him leaving you alone."
    "Mam, it's no use." Liza spoke up quiet and earnest. "Folk think it runs in our family, that we've the witchblood."
    Hearing that word from her lips set me quaking.
    "Everywhere I go," she said, "they ask me for blessings and charms. What am I to do?"
    I willed myself to be as firm and unmoving as the cold boards beneath my feet. "You're to tell them the truth: You've no powers. If they still want their charms, send them to me. Keep your own name clean."

    Late that year, just past Martinmas, I came home from a day's wandering to a dark and empty house. Hearth fire had gone out. Even the ashes were cold. The worst fears chased through my head as I was knelt there, working by moonlight, right frantic, rubbing flint against kindling. Seemed to take an age to spark flame. By the time the peat had caught, my eyes were burning, my hands raw.
    Where was Liza, out so late? Had she twisted her foot and fallen into a ditch? Had a mad dog crossed her path, or a pack of lads up to mischief? I prayed to the Mother of God and called out to Tibb to keep her safe.
    When the moon had climbed so high as to shine down the smoky chimney, the door opened, its hinges squeaking loud enough to set me gasping. In stepped a wild creature, her skirt smeared with clay and black earth. Her loose, flying hair was full of twigs, dead leaves, and spidersilk. Full a-tremble, my daughter was, stood before the fire, her eyes wandering like mad. When I touched her, she twitched and swayed. Something I'd not seen before shone in her eyes. My girl looked moonstruck, planet-struck, boggart-ridden. Looked like she'd been caught up in a fairy ring and made to dance till she was spent. Her face blazed with wonder, brimmed with shock and bliss.
    "This night I've met him, Mam." Her words tumbled out in a hoarse croak. "Met him in the moonlight up Stang Top Moor." She fell against me, clutching me for comfort. "His name is Ball."
    My girl didn't need to