Matilda's Arc

Chapter 3 of 7

Matilda woke before dawn with the tools still stacked by the hearth. The plan had not changed. She needed the book. What had changed was the old witch. After the honey jar and the visit, the old witch would be listening for footsteps on her land. Matilda could not walk blind to the barn a second time. She needed to know when the old witch left and when she came back. She needed eyes on the barn without setting a boot near it. She climbed to the loft and pulled the cloth off the looking glass. The frame was cold. She had not used it in a year. She set it on the kitchen table and cut her thumb over the base. A drop of blood ran down the silver leg. She spoke the sighting words her mother had taught her and named the place she wanted to see. The glass clouded, then cleared. The barn appeared in the surface, small and sharp, sunlit boards and the double doors shut tight. She watched all morning. The old witch came out at nine with a basket and went to the hives. She was back by ten. She went in the house. At noon she carried a pail to the barn, stayed twenty minutes, and came out again. At three she walked the fence line. At dusk she shut the chickens in and locked the barn door with a key she wore on a cord. Matilda wrote every time on a scrap of paper. By nightfall she had a schedule. One gap kept opening. Every second afternoon the old witch left with a covered basket and walked toward the village road. She was gone almost two hours. On those days the barn stood quiet. Matilda checked the glass twice more to be sure. The pattern held. She would still need a place to wait close by, somewhere she could step from cover to door in under a minute. She thought of the sagging shed at the edge of the old witch's field. No one had used it in years. From its broken window she could see the barn doors. From its back wall she could reach the barn in thirty strides. Matilda wrapped the glass in cloth and set it on the shelf. She marked the next basket day on her calendar. Two mornings from now. She had a window, and she had a hiding place. The blind guessing was done. She banked the fire and finally slept, and for the first night in a week she did not dream of the barn door swinging open on the old witch's face.