Chapter One
"'Tis time to rob the dead."
Nettle kicks me again. I pull my tattered wolfskin closer about my shoulders and
curl into a tighter ball, scooting across the packed dirt of the floor to move
as near as I dare to the embers in the fire pit.
"Rise up, lass. Stir your lazy bones, or else half the gleanings will be gone
before we get there. Do not think to sleep the day away like a princess in a
castle."
She kicks me yet again and I open my eyes. Although she is a small woman, she
towers above my pallet, her face and shoulders tense as always. If a sorcerer
were to bewitch a needle into life, that creature would be Nettle.
Nettle grabs my wolfskin and yanks it from my shoulders. The air is cold and
sharp. "Boil a mug of tansy broth for Mad Helga, child, and then we must be
off."
"I'm going to the brook first," I announce. "I'll boil the broth when I return."
I yank my wolfskin back from her bony fingers.
"There's no time for your foolishness, Gilly. 'Tis already late, and — "
"I'll not take long, Nettle."
"Gilly, there is no time — "
Before she can finish speaking, I'm already out ... read full excerpt from The Third Witch ebook
