Read The Near Witch for Free Online Page B

white-blond as Helena’s and Edgar’s, but now is flecked with silver. He stands in the middle of the kitchen, crossing his arms and then uncrossing them as he and Otto talk.
    “No, no, no,” he mumbles. “Who? Who’d have taken him?”
    “Did anyone see anything?”
    My mother is kneading dough, and shakes her head slowly. Bo limps over to the table and leans against it. The limp is subtle, the relic of a bad fall a few years back, but it makes his steps sound uneven on the floorboards. He chews on a wedge of berry-flecked bread, eyes darting between the other two men.
    “What’s going on?” I ask.
    “Edgar’s gone,” says Mr. Drake, turning tired eyes toward me.
    My stomach drops. “What do you mean, gone?”
    There’s a knock at the door, and Mother disappears to answer it, Otto still trying to calm Mr. Drake down.
    “Let’s talk this out,” says my uncle. “Walk me through it.…”
    Mother reappears, an old man on her heels. Not old like the sisters, who seem to crumble and yet never change. Simply old . Master Eli. From the Council. His iron-gray hair looks sharp, trailing across his gaunt face. I take a small step back to make room. Mr. Drake and Otto have their heads bowed together, talking, Bo leaning in with one shoulder as if only half interested. They all look up as Master Eli takes a seat.
    “What do we know?” he rasps. Something creaks, and I don’t know if it’s him or the chair. Otto straightens, turning to address the Council member.
    “Edgar vanished from his bed last night,” he explains. “There’s been no sign of him. No sign of struggle. We’ll call together a search party. He can’t have gone far.”
    “I just don’t understand,” mumbles Mr. Drake.
    Otto offers a determined frown and sets his mug down. I notice that his hands are red, and he’s still wearing his butcher’s smock. He clamps his hand on Mr. Drake’s slight shoulder and promises that they will find his son. When he lets go, his fingers leave behind a smudge of half-dried blood.
    “We don’t know any more than that yet, Eli,” he says. My uncle is probably the only man in town who can get away with calling the Council members by their names but not their titles. A small benefit of his station, and one he apparently enjoys.
    “Poor boy,” murmurs my mother, and I turn to see her comforting Wren, who seems perplexed. I can tell my sister thinks our mother is overreacting.
    “Stop worrying,” Wren says, trying to get free. “He’s just playing a game.”
    “Hush, dear,” says my mother, casting a glance at the rest of the room. Master Eli gives her a strange look, and it’s hard to tell if it’s pity or something harsher. His eyes are dark, set deep beneath his brow. His face crinkles up like paper.
    “It’s a game,” Wren persists. “I’m sure of it.”
    But I am not so sure. I saw my little sister try to climb out the window last night. I reach for Wren’s hand as the men in the kitchen gather their guns and murmur the names of a dozen others they can recruit.
    “Otto,” Bo chimes in for the first time, “the rest are waiting in town for word. Where will we start looking?”
    “We’ll meet the others in the square. We can start there and work our way out to all sides.”
    “That’s a waste,” I cut in. “You should start at Edgar’s house and head out toward the village perimeter, not in toward the center.”
    “Lexi,” warns Otto, casting a glance around the room. Bo wrinkles his nose. Mr. Drake turns away. Master Eli leans back in his chair and looks vaguely amused. Vaguely. Otto turns red.
    “Edgar’s house is in the west,” I press, “so you start there and work away from the village. It doesn’t make much sense to spend time heading inward.”
    “And why is that?” asks Master Eli. His amusement is cool and cutting. His eyes seem to say, Foolish little girl .
    “If someone did take Edgar,” I explain calmly, “they’d never try to hide him in town. There’s