By Franny Billingsley
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That Stepmother spent such a time crouched beside Rose, touching Rose’s head. That the hummingbirds had flown from Stepmother’s fingers. That Stepmother rose and looked down upon you. That you looked up at her, at the crisp V of her jaw, at the thin openings of her nostrils. That she waited such a while to speak. ” said Mr. Clayborne, who’d only been in the Swampsea six months and had never seen a witch. “It be a snag,” said the Swamp Reeve, who’d taken the chair nearest the fire. The Brownie used to curl up under that chair, back in the old days, before Stepmother and I forbade him the house.
But I don’t mind, really. I don’t read much anymore. ” The church and the library shared the wall, conjoined like Siamese twins. ” “Don’t tell your father,” said Eldric. “I probably have an obligation to point out all the local hazards. ” I led Eldric through the foyer and flung open the front door. ” Eldric’s eyes were very bright. It was because of the whites of his eyes—yes, that was it. They were whiter than anyone else’s. I explained we lost the porch to the flood. “Father hasn’t gotten around to rebuilding it, although he’s quite a good carpenter.
Clayborne’s look meant, Go talk to the clergyman’s daughter; and Eldric’s nod meant, Well, if you insist, for he strode right over. What sort of excuse would he give for seeking me out? What sort of mask did Eldric wear? “We didn’t have a chance to become properly acquainted this morning,” he said. ” Eldric nodded. “My father’s mentioned Rose in his letters but speaks rather more frequently of you. He thinks you’re quite the model daughter. ” Adults tend to view me as being mature beyond my years.
Chime by Franny Billingsley