An Errant Witch by E. M. Graham

Author:E. M. Graham [Graham, E. M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy
Publisher: OneEar Press
Published: 2020-05-03T14:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

USING MAGIC CAN REALLY take the good out of you and yet even with all my exhaustion and jet lag, I couldn’t sleep. The more I dwelled on it, the more certain I became that the shepherd had in fact been Willem, despite Sandy’s disclaimer, even if none of it made logical sense. After all, Sandy told me the first evening that he’d had been on the island a couple of months; he’d volunteered for sheep duty having had experience on his family’s croft near Ness, at the northern end of Lewis and Harris. Sandy knew the shepherd.

Unless... unless Willem had cast a Disillusion spell on himself, thereby posing as the hermit. But likewise, that didn’t add up because if I could see through it, then the wee Scotsman could too, for Sandy had more witch blood running in his veins than I did.

It was a dilemma I had to solve, and I got my chance early the next morning after breakfast, for we had some time before our next session. The sun now shone weakly in the crisp morning air and I took a thermos of strong tea from the Refectory. I might need fortifications, after all, and I definitely needed caffeine to keep me alert.

There were two things I had to accomplish that morning, yet I didn’t want to make myself late for Durand’s session again; I had to retrieve the medallion and talk with my mother again, but first I had to find that shepherd in order to prove to myself that it wasn’t Willem, that the sorcerer hadn’t somehow followed me to Scarp. I needed to put my mind at rest before I did anything else.

I avoided Fergie and Sandy, and I was pretty sure no one saw me as I slipped out the side door, making my way along the base of the castle walls, staying out of sight of the windows until I could break cover and dash for the shelter of a cottage ruin, one with just the stone walls standing. These would hide me till I turned the corner at the bottom of the hill.

Once clear of the castle, I breathed deeply of the moist clear air, tinged with heather and rotting vegetation. It was a good, honest smell, and the sun even warmed me as I followed the path upwards. I wasn’t sure of what exactly I was looking for, but I kept an eye out for a shepherd’s hut or some such habitation. Sandy had said he lived somewhere up in the hills. It couldn’t be too far away, surely.

After a half an hour of wandering along rabbit trails in the gorse, I’d had no luck; there were no signs of people or civilization on this face of the mountain. It was as good a time as any to have a spot of tea. I settled near a sparkly brook which gushed out of the rock and let the sun’s low rays warm my face. I was just after

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