Free The First Midnight Spell by Claudia Gray Page B

children in the back. Don’t let them see.”
    Now weeping, Aunt Ruth hurried to the back, shooing the tinier children toward darkness and safety. Elizabeth took a deep breath, then unbarred the door.
    Nat burst through before she could even open it.
    He had become wild. His golden hair was disheveled, his clothes disarrayed. His breaths came fast in his throat. In one hand Nat clutched the ax. As he looked at Elizabeth, standing there in her thin shift, his eyes darkened. “Come on,” he said, seizing her wrist. “Let’s go.”
    Elizabeth followed him, her heart singing. When they stepped outside, she could see all their neighbors had been awakened by the din; they stood in their doorways or slightly farther down on the path, huddled together, whispering. Just as Nat began towing her away from her house, a man appeared holding a rifle.
    â€œDon’t!” she cried, lifting one hand. “I don’t want anyone to be hurt because of me!” That sounded like the right sort of thing to say.
    The man with the rifle didn’t move, not until Nat brandished his ax. Apparently fearing Elizabeth would be injured, her would-be defender stepped away, farther into the darkness.
    â€œHurry,” she whispered to Nat, and he tugged her along, backing up until their watchers were farther from them—and then, together, they ran.
    Elizabeth laughed out loud. So now they’d all know. Well, let them know. There was nothing even Widow Porter could do about it now. Besides, she liked the idea. She liked imagining Pru’s face when she heard that Nat had been so wild for Elizabeth he’d nearly beaten down her door. That would show her what a fool she’d been to ever doubt them.
    Nat didn’t seem to have a clear idea where to go; he was running away from Fortune’s Sound, but toward nothing. Judging by the superhuman strength of his grip, all he knew was that he didn’t want Elizabeth to be far away. Their destination would be up to her.
    â€œRemember Cornwell’s barn?” she said as they ran. A farmer named Cornwell had tried to plant too close to the coast, and the sandy soil had been the death of his crops. But the barn still stood there, ten years abandoned. “Let’s go.”
    Nat’s only response was to run in that direction, even faster. Elizabeth, unused to such vigorous physical activity, found herself struggling to keep up.
    In the darkness, they hardly saw the barn until they were fairly close to it. When they reached the threshold, Nat let the ax fall to the ground and swept Elizabeth into his arms. He carried her inside. The barn was no more than a shell of a building—loose boards jutting out, the standing supports looking like the ribs of some dead thing not yet picked clean by crows, but the bare spots in the roof overhead let the stars shine through.
    At last we’re alone, Elizabeth thought. At last nothing is in our way.
    Perhaps she would have dreamed of a soft bed in a home of their own. But the thick clover growing in what had been the barn—that was soft enough. Nat laid her down, tore away her shift, and looked down at her as though he had never seen anything so beautiful. Elizabeth felt a moment’s nervousness, but only a moment’s. Then she held out her hands to him, and he kissed her, and there could be no stopping.
    â€œI love you,” she whispered, helping him undress.
    â€œNow.” Nat sounded desperate, as though he might be on the verge of tears. “It has to be now. I can’t wait any longer, Elizabeth, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but I can’t.”
    â€œYou don’t have to,” Elizabeth said.
    It felt different than she’d thought it would. Not that girls were ever encouraged to think of such things, but of course they did, and Elizabeth had believed she understood exactly how things would go. Of course she understood the basics—no one could help raise