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The Witch’s Kiss. Katharine Corr
Читать онлайн.Название The Witch’s Kiss
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780008188504
Автор произведения Katharine Corr
Жанр Детская проза
Издательство HarperCollins
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2016
HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd,
1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
The HarperCollins website address is: www.harpercollins.co.uk
Text © Katharine and Elizabeth Corr 2016
Cover thorns © Josef Mohyla & Andrew Unangst
Cover design © blacksheep-uk.com
Katharine and Elizabeth Corr assert the moral right to be identified as the authors of the work.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780008182984
Ebook Edition © 2016 ISBN: 9780008188504
Version: 2016-06-09
For Laurence, who was my inspiration.
E.C.
In memory of Nana Pat, who really did make our
childhood magical.
K.C.
Contents
THE KINGDOM OF THE SOUTH SAXONS, 522 AD
Witches do not kneel.
They do not grovel. They do not beg favours from any creature, mortal or immortal.
At the most, they bargain.
Meredith knew this; had known it for as long as she could remember. But, as she scrambled up the steep hillside, shredding her skirts and her skin on the long thorns of may trees, the things she had been certain of were no longer enough.
Finally, she reached the summit. This place was not holy, but it was old. Very, very old.
Meredith passed through the outer ring of pine trees, so tall and close growing they blocked out the sun and the wind, walking on until she got close to the single oak growing at the centre of the circle. The oak was twisted and split with age, green foliage flecked with cream. Not flowers, but bones: tied to the branches, littering the ground beneath.
Then, Meredith knelt.
She cleared a space in front of her, sweeping away the bones and dead leaves until the earth beneath was revealed, and pulled a knife out of her belt. She had no offering to bargain with. She had only herself.
‘This