Free Witch Silver by Anne Forbes Page B

through the swirling flakes. “Maybe this
is
just freak weather. Everyone’s talking about climate change these days …”
    Mrs MacLean turned white all of a sudden and pointed dramatically at the sky behind him. Seeing her look of fear, her husband swung round and stared at the ragged tops of the massive stand of pine trees that lined the road. “Witches! They’re there, John! Hiding among the trees! Look!”
    “Mum’s right, Dad,” Clara yelled, winding her window down to get a clearer view. She pointed as the blizzard eased momentarily. “They’re there! Over to your … right …” She gulped and her voice faded as the Queen of the Snow Witches swooped out of the trees towards the car, her witches outlined behind her against a leaden sky.
    Samantha recognized Clara immediately. Surely this wasthe child she’d kidnapped in Argyle a few years back at the request of Prince Kalman. The child who’d somehow managed to escape her clutches! She boiled with rage at the thought, for the prince had been really most unpleasant when he heard she’d been rescued. Samantha smiled malevolently. This was her chance to punish her! She’d bury her under six feet of snow if she had to! “Get them,” she shrieked as she wheeled towards the staring occupants of the car.
    “Get in quick, John,” Mrs MacLean said urgently.
    “Put your window up, Clara,” John MacLean said, slipping into the driver’s seat and turning the key in the ignition as the witches dive-bombed the 4x4 with inches to spare.
    The car started but the engine was rough and, at first, it lurched forward in a series of jerks before moving more smoothly. John peered through the swishing windscreen wipers trying to gauge where the edge of the road was.
    “There’s a car ahead of us,” Mrs MacLean said suddenly, peering through a sudden break in the storm. “It’s miles ahead but I’m sure I saw its rear lights through the snow!”
    “Dad!” Clara yelled. Her father slammed on the brakes and they all fell forwards against their seat belts.
    “What is it?” her father asked, twisting round in his seat.
    Clara pointed through the window. “The men on the farm,” she gasped, “they’re not people at all. Look at them! Can’t you see their faces? They’re snowmen!” she whispered. “Look! Look, over there! They’re heading for the road!”
    Neil gasped. Clara was right. Running towards the car with lumbering steps were several white, bulky figures. Snowmen! Snowmen with carrot noses and black stone eyes! “Come on, Dad! Put your foot down,” Neil yelled, “they’re catching up with us.” As the car pulled away, the snowmen halted but they hadn’t finished. Bending down they lifted handfuls of snow and Claracringed as the first volley of snowballs crashed against the rear window.
    “For goodness sake, keep going, John,” Mrs MacLean urged. “We’ve got to catch up with that car in front.”
    The witches, however, were determined to stop them. The snow became heavier and as more and more snowmen rose from the side of the road, John sent it skating and slithering in as straight a line as he could manage. Although the snowballs did no real damage, the melting snowflakes, sliding down the windscreen, reduced visibility to little more than a few feet. It was really scary, Clara admitted afterwards, for the other windows were so snowed up on the outside that they didn’t know whether the snowmen were running alongside them or not.
    It was when one of them threw itself in front of the 4x4 that John MacLean gunned the engine and bounced the car over it with a bump that would have sent them all through the windscreen had they not had their seat belts on.
    “There it is, John,” Mrs MacLean said in triumph as two red lights shone in front of them, “I told you there was a car in front of us.”
    “He’s seen our lights,” Neil said. “Look, he’s blinking his hazard lights at us.”
    John MacLean breathed a sigh of relief. “He’s