“Of course we won’t,” said Alison. She took a closer look at the short needles on the low-hanging branches. “It’s a yew?”
“The Norminster Yew,” said the groundskeeper. “Three thousand years old, at least, according to the Dean Whittaker. The former Dean Whittaker, not her son.”
“It’s remarkable,” said Alison.
The groundskeeper smiled. “Aye,” he said. Something ginger and white dashed out from between his legs. “Oy, Barney. Get back here!”
Barney was a dog with long, silky fur and big floppy ears. He had caught the scent of Willow.
He ran up to her, tail wagging, tongue panting, eyes bright and watery.
Willow turned to the side, arching her back and hissing fiercely.
“Willow!” shouted Alison, stepping in between the pair.
“Barney!” shouted the groundskeeper. Barney ran back to the groundskeeper obediently.
“Keep that thing away from me,” said Willow.
Barney and the groundskeeper turned to her in surprise. “Well, I’ll be,” said the groundskeeper. “I haven’t heard a cat talk since I was a boy. Barney, stay.”
The dog did as he was told. The groundskeeper slowly approached Willow.
“Sorry about that, miss,” he said to the cat. “The name is Tomasar, and that’s my dog Barney. He loves cats. He won’t hurt you, but he sure would like to give you a sniff. If you’d let him, that is.”
Tomasar had clearly known cats to be asking for permission.
“He may sniff,” said Willow, holding herself up as much as she could. “But no licking.”
“You heard her, Barn. Don’t lick,” said Tomasar. The dog approached again, this time considerably more cautiously.
Willow allowed him to sniff her, and she even snuck in some sniffs of her own.
To Alison’s surprise, she rubbed her head against him.
“See? He’s a good boy,” said Tomasar. He bent and scratched the dog behind the ears. “We’ll be on our way. It was nice to meet you both.”
Alison realized he hadn’t truly introduced himself to her, but she didn’t correct him. She figured the positive encounter with the cat was enough.
“His fur is very soft,” Willow admitted to Alison once they were out of earshot. “He’ll need to be kept in his place, of course. But I could see him making a good pillow while we’re here.”
Trust the cat to find something soft to lay on the moment they arrived.
Alison waited for Willow to take care of her business behind some bushes near a ruined cloister. A cool breeze blew through it, sending a chill up her spine. She’d need to make sure she kept a jumper with her here. Autumn was well on its way this high in the mountains.
When Willow and Alison returned, plans had already been made to head back into town. Lady Sibba had forgotten to bring some kind of salve, and Idris wanted to avoid dinner with Dean Whittaker.
“He’s far too eager to please,” said Idris.
“But what about Ceri? Don’t you want to say hello?” asked Rinka.
“We’ll see her soon enough, I’m sure. The last thing she wants is her brother hanging around while she meets new people.Which means I won’t let her out of my sight, but I’m sure she can manage one night on her own.”
Alison didn’t admit it to anyone, but she was grateful to have an excuse to leave High House again.
There was something about it that wasn’t quite right.
Chapter Five
