Equal Rites

She could just make out the small footprints in the crust, half filled with fresh snow. Cursing and muttering, Gra

The white cat awoke from its private ledge in the forge when it heard the sounds coming from the darkest corner. Smith had carefully shut the big doors behind him when he went off with the nearly-hysterical boys, and the cat watched with interest as a thin shadow prodded at the lock and tested the hinges.

The doors were oak, hardened by heat and time, but that didn’t prevent them being blown right across the street.

Smith heard a sound in the sky as he hurried along the track. So did Gra

The wolves heard it, too, as it spun low over the treetops and hurtled down into the clearing. But they heard it far too late.

Gra

There was the crackle of breaking branches. Something big and heavy landed in a fir tree by Gra

There was silence.

Gra

She could see that the snow was flattened in a white circle. A few wolves lay at its edges, either dead or wisely deciding to make no move.

The staff stood upright in the snow and Gra

There was also a small heap in the centre of the circle, curled tightly up inside itself. Gra

The staff moved. It was little more than a tremble, but her hand stopped just before it touched Esk’s shoulder. Gra

The air thickened. Then the staff seemed to back away while not moving, while at the same time something quite indefinable made it absolutely clear to the old witch that as far as the staff was concerned this -wasn’t a defeat, it was merely a tactical consideration, and it wouldn’t like her to think she had won in any way, because she hadn’t.

Esk gave a shudder. Gra

“It’s me, little one. It’s only old Gra

The hump didn’t uncurl.

Gra

Gra

“Didda nasty wolfie fwiten us, den?” she hazarded.

For quite the wrong reasons, this seemed to work. From the depths of the ball a muffled voice said: “I am eight, you know.”

“People who are eight don’t curl up in the middle of the snow,” said Gra

The ball didn’t answer.

“I’ve probably got some milk and biscuits at home,” Gra

There was no perceptible effect.

“Eskarina Smith, if you don’t behave this minute I will give you such a smack!”

Esk poked her head out cautiously.

“There’s no need to be like that,” she said.

When Smith reached the cottage Gra

“Um,” said Smith, not quite aware of how to begin a conversation with someone who was supposed to be dead. “They, um, told me you were—ill.” He turned and glared at his sons.

“I was just having a rest and I must have dozed off. I sleeps very sound.”

“Yes,” said Smith, uncertainly. “Well. All’s well, then. What’s up with Esk? ”

“She took a bit of a fright,” said Gra

Smith wasn’t absolutely sure that it was all right with him. But he was quite sure that his wife, like every other woman in the village, held Gra

“Fine, fine,” he said, “if it’s no trouble. I’ll send along for her in the morning, shall I?”

“That’s right,” said Gra

“No, no, that’s all right,” said Smith hurriedly. “I’ve got my supper waiting. Drying up,” he added, looking down at Gulta, who opened his mouth to say something and wisely thought better of it.

When they had gone, with the sound of the two boys’ protests ringing out among the trees, Gra

She got down on her knees, to an accompaniment of clicks and grunts, and started to lay the fire. It was a complicated business involving dry fungus punk, wood shavings, bits of split twig and much puffing and swearing.

Esk said: “You don’t have to do it like that, Gra

Gra

“Oh yes?” she said, her voice dead-level. “You know of a better way, do you?”

“You could magic it alight.”

Gra

“How would I do that, pray?” she said, apparently addressing her remarks to the fireback.

“Er,” said Esk, “I … I can’t remember. But you must know anyway, don’t you? Everyone knows you can do magic.”

“There’s magic,” said Gra

“But could you light a fire with magic?” said Esk, as Gra

“Maybe,” said Gra

“You could light it much better.”

“If a thing’s worth doing, it’s worth doing badly,” said Gra

“Yes, but—”

“But me no buts.”

Gra