Page 82 of Witchbane

Going out into the yard I looked around for Pierre, feeling much calmer now that we had a plan to protect ourselves and hopefully ensure we were left to live our lives in peace.

I spotted him harvesting apples in the orchard and jumped up and down a couple of times, waving to attract his attention. We still had a way to go before we realised our ambition, but I had every intention of doing all in my power to make it happen.

Chapter Forty-One

THEO

It was proving too difficult to find tracks from horseback, let alone detect small clearings or remnants of a bonfire.

I might have ridden through this wood earlier that day, but either I had been too focused on reaching Rue to take much notice of anything around me, or I was in a different part of the wood. Everything around me felt strange and unrecognisable.

I slowed Warrior and turned in my saddle to speak to Garnier behind me. ‘Do you know these woods at all?’ I asked.

‘I do not, unfortunately. I used to play here with my siblings and cousins when we were children, but something happened and our parents banned us from returning. I haven’t been since.’

I wondered what could have occurred to cause their families’ concern. ‘Was someone hurt here?’

‘I believe one of the parents heard a rumour about witches meeting here. It frightened all of us. Enough to stop me wanting to come here anyway.’

It made sense that witches would choose somewhere like this to practise their craft, I supposed. After all, this was why we were here. As I looked around us, a thick canopy of branches and leaves shut out most of the sunlight even though it was still a couple of hours before dusk.

‘It is an eerie place.’ I suppressed a shudder, only just ducking in time as Warrior walked underneath a low-hanging gnarled branch. I thought of Crack Ankle Lane as I lay against Warrior’s neck. Rue had gone out of her way to help me that day. Her kindness was not something I could ignore, not when she needed me now more than ever. I closed my eyes and wished I hadn’t discovered the truth about her.

‘I was thinking the same thing,’ Garnier said, confusing me for a moment as to what he meant. ‘I wouldn’t come this way alone even now, if I’m honest. I can’t think why any woman, even a witch, would choose to come here at all, let alone at nighttime.’

I felt the same darkness about the place as he did and supposed that witches must feel protected in some way, unless we were being unnecessarily frightened by tales. I hoped we would come across the coven’s meeting place soon, because I was ready to dismount and find somewhere to await their arrival. If indeed they came tonight.

We continued past fallen trunks with mushrooms growing from them like tiny lanterns. Rabbits scattered into the undergrowth as we neared and somewhere in the distance crows sounded as if they were deep in an argument.

Not a place I would choose for any meeting at all, I mused.

I supposed I must have come through the outskirts of the wood on my ride to the manor, because it had been much more open and brighter than here, and far less foreboding.

Something moved to my left. I reined Warrior to a halt and peered through the greenery to see what it might be. A raven took off, flying quickly towards us and barely missing my head. I ducked and turned to watch it as it flew away.

‘That was close,’ Garnier growled. ‘I half expected it to hit my face with its wing.’

So had I, but I didn’t want to think about that right now. When I was certain that there was nothing to be seen in the place where the bird had taken flight, I waved to Garnier to follow me there.

‘It’s a clearing,’ I said, wondering if the raven might have been a witch escaping by turning herself into the bird. I pushed away the fanciful notion.

‘There’s been a fire here too at some point.’ Garnier pointed to the circle of ash and half-burnt sticks. ‘And not that long ago. Maybe days, a week even.’

I dismounted and walked over to the centre of the clearing to have a better look. Crouching near the fire remnants, I ran my fingers through the ash. Feeling around, my fingers encountered something cool. I picked it up and lifted it to study it.

‘What is it?’

I wasn’t sure at first but brushed the excess ash from the circular item that was slightly smaller than the palm of a woman’s hand. ‘It’s steel,’ I said, wondering what it could be used for.

‘May I look at it?’

He held out his hand, and I passed it to him to inspect. Then wiping it on his trousers he held it up again and smiled.

‘Do you know what it is?’

He held it out to me. ‘Stare into it,’ he insisted, very proud to be better informed about it than me.

I did as he suggested, not knowing what to expect. I inclined my head closer to it and I saw a reflection of my own face. I had seen a few of these items in the larger, more impressive homes I had visited with my father. I tried to think of the name used for them.