by Matt Ralphs
Titus’s anger dissipated. ‘It was still a stupid thing to do . . .’
‘I know,’ Hazel said, letting the tears fall down her cheeks. ‘But here we are.’
She slipped her arm into Titus’s and together they carried on towards the river, seeing the sky over the rooftops beginning to lighten.
Titus frowned as Thorn landed on his shoulder. ‘And what do you think you’re doing?’
‘I’m tired, Titus White,’ he chirruped. ‘I need somewhere to rest.’
‘All right, you can stay there for a little while,’ the old Witch Finder grumbled, ‘as long as you don’t make any noise.’
‘I won’t,’ Thorn said, settling down on his one good leg. ‘I rarely speak unless absolutely necessary.’
‘So what are we to do now?’ Bramley said. ‘We’ve got this far and ended up right where we started.’
‘Not quite,’ Hazel said. ‘We have the Necronomicon so we can still open a gate to the Underworld.’
‘But what about the demon blood we need?’ Thorn asked. ‘And who will recite the spell?’
‘I would think that if there are any Wielders or demonologists left in England who can help us, they’ll be fighting Cromwell in the North.’ Hazel looked up at Titus. ‘What do you think, old man?’
‘Join up with the rebels, eh?’ Titus murmured. ‘There’s a notion. We’re certainly not safe in London, and I for one would be glad to help anyone who’s kicking back against the Order.’
‘And if we did find someone to help us open another gate,’ Bramley said, ‘we’d be able to prepare for the journey beforehand, and not just run blindly in and hope for the best.’
‘North is where Lilith is going too,’ Titus added, ‘along with any of the prisoners willing to join her.’
‘Oh, of course!’ Hazel cried, brushing her sleeve over her face and leaving sooty streaks behind. ‘After everything that’s happened I nearly forgot about the prisoners. What happened? Did you save them from the fire?’
‘We did, and gave them at least a fighting chance of escape.’
‘And David?’ Hazel said. ‘Was he there too?’
‘He was, thank God, although I didn’t get to see him. I still hope for reconciliation.’
‘Me too,’ Hazel said quietly. ‘Me too.’
They reached the bottom of the street and turned right on the embankment towards London Bridge.
‘Oh, but here’s something to cheer us up,’ Titus said. ‘Samson is alive and well and looking after David.’
‘He is?’ Hazel smiled. ‘Now that is good news.’
Thorn took off and landed next to Bramley on Hazel’s head. ‘Who’s Samson?’
‘Samson is a smelly, slobbery hound,’ Bramley declared, ‘with little in the way of intelligence.’
‘It’s a shame you think that about my dog, Master Mouse,’ Titus said. ‘Because he’s only got nice things to say about you.’
Hazel glanced back as they passed through the gate and on to London Bridge. She wouldn’t miss the city, and was glad to be leaving the Tower and the Island behind. But what lay ahead for them in the war-torn North? Would they find the rebels? And even if they did, would there be anyone among them who could help?
She looked up at Titus. ‘We’ll find her.’
‘The four of us together?’ he said, gesturing to her, Bramley and Thorn with a wave of his hand. ‘I’d wager my life on it.’
EPILOGUE
Two weeks later. . .
John Stearne, the Witch Hunter General, grabbed his prisoner by the collar and pushed him through the door. ‘Move yourself, I haven’t got all day.’
Matthew Hopkins stumbled a few steps down the path, then tripped over the chain shackling his ankles. The sun was bright after the darkness of his cell, and when his eyes adjusted he saw soldiers tearing his garden apart – digging over the turf and tossing the plants and flowers he’d spent months nurturing on to a smouldering bonfire.
‘Get up.’ Stearne took a handful of Hopkins’ shirt and hauled him to his feet.
Hopkins tried to keep his voice calm. ‘You don’t have to do this. I can help you . . .’
‘Help?’ Stearne let out a bark of laughter. ‘From you? The man who let our greatest enemy escape? I think not.’
‘Then why not let me go?’ A touch of pique returned when he added, ‘Dammit, John, it’s just not seemly for a man like me to be treated this way.’
‘All men are equal under my law,’ Stearne growled, shoving him down the path. ‘Your time is over, Hopkins. Mine is beginning, and I will bring down such a storm of vengeance on our enemies that they’ll look back on your tenure as one of peace and benevolence.’
‘Please, all I’m asking is that you let me go.’
They stopped by the Oven’s metal hatch. Stearne wrenched it open to reveal the broiling darkness inside.
Hopkins began to tremble. ‘I promise,’ he said, ‘you’ll never hear from me again.’
A smile spread across Stearne’s brutal face. ‘I know.’
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Matt Ralphs was born in North Lincolnshire and grew up in Kent. So, by way of a median average, he’s from Cambridge. He now lives on a canal boat called Nostromo and is a full-time writer.
Fire Witch is his second novel.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I wrote my first book, Fire Girl, over the course of about five years, scribbling feverishly on my commute, during boring work meetings, and in the quiet of the night. I worked in the hope but not the expectation of one day getting it published; I had no deadline, no publisher’s ‘to-print date’ – hence the leisurely gestation.
The writing of Fire Witch occurred at a comparatively breakneck speed. Just over a year from first draft to final layouts. The difference this time was that I knew the book was going to be published and I had the full backing of Macmillan Children’s Books behind me. It’s been brilliant.
Authors tend to get all the plaudits, but I used to work in publishing so I know how much hard labour and care comes from the many people behind the scenes. The sales, publicity and marketing teams, booksellers, designers and artists, typesetters, editorial assistants, managers, accountants, rights department, publishers and editors. Take a bow, y’all, and accept my heartfelt thanks.
Special mention simply must go to Rachel Kellehar, my awesome editor. Your faith and tireless effort on Hazel’s behalf mean a lot to me. This book is yours as much as it is mine.
Books by Matt Ralphs
Fire Girl
Fire Witch
First published 2016 by Macmillan Children’s Books
This electronic edition published 2016 by Macmillan Children’s Books
an imprint of Pan Macmillan
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Associated companies throughout the world
www.panmacmillan.com
ISBN 978-1-4472-8361-4
Text copyright © Matt Ralphs 2016
Illustrations copyright © Fred van Deelen 2015, 2016
Cover photographs by Colin Thomas and Shutterstock
The right of Matt Ralphs and Fred van Deelen to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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