start up in about thirty minutes.”
“School?” Mowse blanched. “What?”
“I want to send Mowse to school today, just to see how it goes,” Susanah said.
“I can arrange that,” said Mr. Jameson. “Tommy, why don’t you take her down to—”
“I can’t go to school!” Mowse said. “I won’t go to school! I’m going to build the horses with you!”
“Mowse, please,” Susanah said. “I know I’m not your mother, but I’m the closest thing to a parent you’ve got. And now that there’s a school around, I want you to at least try to get an education. A real one, not just me teaching you ABCs and simple math. Real stuff I can’t teach you.”
“But what if they make me forget everything, like they made you?” Mowse asked so quietly I almost couldn’t hear her. Her eyes were big and wet and frightened.
Susanah blinked in surprise, and when she spoke again, her voice quavered. “They won’t, Kahúu,” she said gently. “It’s different for you. I promise. And if they do, I’ll pull you out, no questions asked. Just go and give it a chance, okay?”
Mowse looked at her, then back to the rest of us.
“It really will be fine,” I told her. “You’ll get to do all kinds of things. Read books, learn math, play on the playground, study maps of Europe and Asia and Africa—”
“What’s the point if we’re all going to die?” Mowse said.
“We’re not,” Olivia said. “I promise. Right, Susanah?”
“Right. You know I wouldn’t let you die. Now, go on, okay?”
With one final hug for Susanah, Mowse went with Tommy, the pimply guard from before, and headed across town to school.
“Okay,” Susanah said. “Where’s the metal?”
“Out back,” said Mr. Jameson. “Behind the building.”
“Great,” said Susanah. “Builders, come with me!”
And without another word, Susanah led them, unsure and shuffling, out of the church.
The others looked at us expectantly.
“Um… Judith! Zo!” Olivia said. “You think you can teach them how to fight Dust Soldiers?”
“We got it, boss!” Judith said. “Come on, y’all, let’s go.” And she and Zo led them to the back of the barn to begin sparring.
Only Cassandra, Olivia, and I were left. We turned to each other, bewildered. It seemed unbelievable, Mother Morevna trusting us with this responsibility and not being here, breathing down our necks.
“What are we going to do?” asked Cassandra. She looked at all of us, then at Mr. Jameson.
He put up his hands. “That’s completely up to you witches,” he said. “Though I wouldn’t say no to an enchanted rifle or something. Maybe a bunch of ’em for the artillery, if, as y’all say, enchanted weapons are what gets ’em.”
“That’s… not a bad idea, actually,” said Olivia.
“What’s Mother Morevna doing now?” I asked.
“She’s handling the Sacrifice, trying to get a new one built up before the Dust Soldiers come back,” said Mr. Jameson. “Been working herself to the bone these days. I’m surprised it hasn’t killed her, to tell the truth. I know she doesn’t expect to live through this, whatever happens, but she’ll never stop trying.”
But before I could say anything, Mrs. Winthrop, Mother Morevna’s housekeeper, appeared in the doorway, lugging a huge rucksack.
“These are for all of you,” she grunted. “Sent by Mother Morevna.”
She emptied the rucksack onto the table before us. Books scattered to and fro, pages fluttering.
“Spell books?” Cassandra said.
“And some kind of witch belts,” Mrs. Winthrop said, opening a pouch and pulling three spell components belts from the rucksack and throwing them onto the table. “One for each of you.”
The others took the belts nervously and buckled them on.
Mrs. Winthrop’s eyes flickered over all our faces and lingered on mine.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come down to you. But if it does, then, for all our sakes, make use of this time. Lord knows we’ve had enough funerals around here as it is.” She looked up at Mr. Jameson. “Come with me, Jameson,” she said. “Mother Morevna wants to speak to you.”
Mr. Jameson nodded to us and followed Mrs. Winthrop back to the church.
I looked from face to face. “Are y’all ready?”
Everyone nodded.
“Good,” I said. “Let’s get to work.”
As if on cue, the sounds of hammering, sawing, metal rending rose in the air.
“Hayloft,” said Olivia, jerking her head toward the ladder. “Let’s go. Maybe it’ll be quieter up there.”
We each grabbed a stack of books and headed up to the hayloft. There among the hay and dust, we laid everything on the floor and sat in a circle, dividing the books among ourselves.
“Well…” I said. “Let’s get started, I guess. We’ll…