Witch Catcher by Mary Downing Hahn Page B

mess.
    "Is it the witch catcher?" he asked Moura.
    She nodded, speechless with anger.
    Without noticing Moura's rage, Dad turned to me. "You lied to me, Jen. You had the witch catcher all along. And now its broken. No one will have it."
    To my surprise, Moura thrust aside my carelessly hung clothes as if she thought I might be hiding something else in the closet. She found nothing. Dropping to the floor, she looked under my bed. Nothing there, either.
    Dad watched her, obviously puzzled by her behavior, but Mr. Ashbourne kept his eyes on me. "Tell me, Jen, where did you find the witch catcher?"
    "In the tower," I mumbled, keeping my head down to avoid looking at those scary glasses. "Hanging in a window."
    "Why did you take it?" he asked.
    "It was pretty." I moved closer to Dad and pressed my face into his side, but he didn't put his arm around me or pat my head. His body was tense and unyielding. He was angry, too.
    Moura grabbed my shoulder and whirled me around to face her. Her long red nails stabbed painfully into my skin. "Do you realize what you've done?" She kept her voice low. "You've destroyed—"
    Mr. Ashbourne took Moura's arm. "The child meant no harm," he said. "She thought the globe was pretty, and she wanted it. I have so many witch catchers. What's one more or less?" He smiled, but the look he gave Moura burned with anger.
    Dad finally put his arm around me. "I'm sure Jen is as sorry about this as I am. But remember, Moura, I haven't decided what to sell and what to keep. So the broken globe is Jen's loss. No one else's."
    "Of course, Hugh." Moura managed to smile at him. "Forgive me. As a dealer in antiques, I simply can't bear to see valuable objects used as playthings by careless children."
    "I wasn't playing with it," I said, stung by her implications, "and I'm not a careless child. I put the witch catcher in a safe place. It's not my fault Tink broke it."
    "Perhaps we should return to the living room and finish our tea," Mr. Ashbourne suggested. "I'm still hoping you'll decide to part with those wonderful paintings, Hugh."
    Mr. Ashbourne led the way downstairs. Before we reached the bottom, Moura took my arm and whispered, "If you see anything strange, tell me at once. You could be in great danger, you foolish girl."
    I stopped on the landing and stared at her. "What do you mean?"
    "I told you the purpose of witch catchers," she said. "When one is broken, odd things happen."
    "The witch escapes?" Goose bumps sprang up on my arms, but I forced myself to laugh. "Surely you don't believe in evil spirits."
    Moura looked at me, clearly not amused. "You're ignorant as well as foolish and dishonest."
    With that, she swept down the steps to join Dad and Mr. Ashbourne. Her hair and skirt floated out behind her as if she were sinking into the shadows at the foot of the stairs.
    "The tea's cold, Jen," Dad said. "Would you mind making a fresh pot?"
    Glad to be excused, I left the three of them in the living room. After I filled the kettle and set it on the stove, I collapsed on a chair. My head ached, and my legs felt weak, as if I were coming down with the flu.
    What had just happened? I'd been without any will of my own—Mr. Ashbourne must have hypnotized me somehow. I'd been completely under his power, as mindless as a zombie. Those glasses—had I imagined the way they'd changed color?
    The worst part was Dad—he hadn't noticed a thing out of the ordinary. Had he been bewitched, too?
    I hugged myself and shivered uncontrollably, more frightened than cold.
    "Jen," Dad called from the living room, "the kettle's boiling."
    His voice and the loud whistle from the kettle roused me. Still shaky, I got to my feet and filled the teapot with boiling water.
    Tink emerged from his hiding place and rubbed against my legs.
    "I suppose you're apologizing." I said. "But it'll take a lot more than that to make up for what you've done."
    Tink purred loudly and wound himself around me as if he were trying extra special hard to