Free Syren by Angie Sage Page A

to—” began Dorinda excitedly.
    “He?” interrupted the Witch Mother, who in the gloom had taken Wolf Boy’s dreadlocks to be the long hair of a girl. “A boy ? Don’t be ridiculous, Dorinda.”
    Dorinda sounded flustered. “He is a boy, Witch Mother.” She turned to Wolf Boy. “You are , aren’t you?”
    “Yes,” Wolf Boy replied, keeping his voice as gruff as he could. Then he cleared his throat and addressed the Witch Mother with the words he was allowed to speak. “I have come to feed the Grim,” he said. “What will you give me?”
    The Witch Mother stared at Wolf Boy as she digested this information. Wolf Boy clenched and unclenched his hands. His scarred palms could no longer sweat, but a cold sweat trickled down his back.
    The Witch Mother began to laugh. It was not a good sound. “Then you must feed the Grim!” she cackled. Turning to her Coven she laughed and said, “And I think we all know what we shall give him to feed it.”
    The witches laughed, echoing the Witch Mother.
    “Serves her right,” Wolf Boy heard Dorinda whisper to another witch.
    “Yeah. Filthy little scumbucket. Did you hear what she called me last night?”
    “Quiet!” ordered the Witch Mother. “Linda, go and get the Grim’s little…snack.”
    There was more laughter, and Linda, who also sported a dead white face in imitation of the Witch Mother, glided across the kitchen. She drew back a greasy blanket, pushed open the door to the cellar and disappeared.
    She returned dragging Lucy Gringe by her braids.

9
T HE G RIM
    L ucy Gringe, soaking wet and filthy, came in kicking and screaming.

    “Get off me, you weird cow!” she yelled, and swung a kick that landed hard on Linda’s shins. The rest of the Coven—including the Witch Mother—gasped. Not one of them would have dared do that to Linda.
    Linda stopped dead, and the Coven fell deathly quiet. Suddenly Linda yanked Lucy’s head back with a vicious tug and twisted Lucy’s braids up into a tight knot so that they pulled hard against her scalp. Lucy yelped, though Wolf Boy could see she tried not to. Linda narrowed her eyes, and twin blue needles of light shot through the gloom and played on Lucy’s pale face.
    “I’d do you for that if you weren’t heading for the you-know-what—you dirty little ratbutt,” the witch snarled. She gave another tug on Lucy’s hair. Lucy twisted around and, to Wolf Boy’s admiration, she tried to land a punch. This time Linda deftly sidestepped her.
    Wolf Boy was shocked. It was Lucy Gringe— Simon’s girlfriend . No wonder Simon hadn’t been able to find her. He relaxed a little. Simon’s girlfriend or not, at least he now had an ally, another human. There was something about the Coven that was not human. He could feel it: a cold disconnection, an allegiance to something else. He guessed that this was how people felt when surrounded by the wolverines in the Forest—totally alone. But now he wasn’t alone…another human being was in the room.
    Linda dragged Lucy across the kitchen, kicking her way through the piles of trash. She stopped beside Wolf Boy and then, as though handing over the reins, she gave him Lucy’s braids to hold. Wolf Boy took them reluctantly and flashed Lucy an apologetic glance. Lucy took in the glance, then glared at the surrounding witches and tossed her head angrily. She reminded Wolf Boy of an unpredictable pony.
    What bothered Wolf Boy was why the witch had given him Lucy’s braids to hold—what were they planning? As if in answer, the Witch Mother teetered up to him on her spiked shoes and stood so close that he could smell her cat breath and see the red blotches deep inside the cracks in her makeup.
    She pointed a grubby finger with a loose black fingernail at Lucy. “Feed that to the Grim,” she spat at Wolf Boy. Then she spun around on her heel spikes and teetered back to the ladder.
    Wolf Boy was horrified. “No!” he yelled, his voice shooting up an octave.
    The Witch Mother