“Here grew willows and alders, their trunks twisted like giants’ sinews. Around them bark lichen bloomed blue-white in the darkness. It felt like a good place, where there was old magic.”

“I don’t think I would be very good at killing,” Merla said.“To be honest, nor do I. But you may have to.”A disturbing thought came to Merla. “Faye,” she asked, “have you killed a person?”There was a moment’s silence. “Let’s just say that I am familiar with the techniques.”

“Colm was a good sleeper. But if there was one sound at night that should wake him, and any sensible man who loved his family, it was the barking of dogs. The noise was coming from the village. It was not just one or two dogs, but surely every mangy cur and mongrel that lived there. Something was abroad, and in this time of the dying of the year, when fell creatures roamed the countryside as hunger began to bite, it was not likely to be anything good.”

“Here grew willows and alders, their trunks twisted like giants’ sinews. Around them bark lichen bloomed blue-white in the darkness. It felt like a good place, where there was old magic.”

“I don’t think I believe in any god,” Merla said. “I think we make our own destiny. I think religion is superstition. Does that shock you?”Agata shook her head and smiled. “If the Goddess is kind, then she will allow you your doubts, and embrace believers and unbelievers alike. If she is not, then the witches are mistaken, and we should not be worshipping her anyway.”