Page 12 of The Snow Witch

Time to get off the stones. Falling into the Burn herself was not something she had planned to do today. She almost felt as if she needed to say something to acknowledge Meggie in some way, but she had no words that seemed appropriate. What could you say to a woman who had been dead for centuries?

Violet stood for a moment longer, trying to send some sort of healing thought to the alleged witch, and then she turned and walked across the rest of the stones to the bank. If she turned right and followed the track, she knew she’d get to the Well.

She squinted through the cloud as she felt flakes of icy cold snow hitting her face. It wasn’t a soft snow; it was pretty brutal and felt like pinpricks against her skin. For a moment, she really appreciated how the Roman soldiers must have felt when they came to the northern frontier of their empire, from places such as North Africa or Spain or France.

Warm places.

‘Poor buggers,’ she muttered. At least she had the comfort of knowing that she could get back to the B & B and have something hot to eat and drink, a warm bath and sit huddled up beside a radiator or a fire for the evening – and not have to stand on a turret and watch out for enemies.

She imagined Meggie coming to the Well, talking to the goddess Coventina. The fort would have been there then, perhaps in better condition, perhaps not – and maybe the Shrine to the Water Nymphs would have still been standing too. And there would definitely have been a stone wall around the Well – she knew that, because she’d seen pictures of it in a book she’d used for research, and she’d seen other excavations reveal similar things.

In fact, if Violet closed her eyes, she could almost visualise it: a young woman kneeling in that snow, throwing offerings into the well, doing whatever she had to do to help people… She let herself drift for a moment, absorbing the strange energy and weird atmosphere. The images were strong and she shivered. She opened her eyes and half-expected to have the ghost of a woman standing in front of her.

Because let’s not forget, a woman had been executed there as a witch.

But of course, there was nobody around.

However: ‘Hello?’ she called. She wasn’t really sure why she did that – maybe it was to ensure that there was definitely nobody there.

Nobody answered, so she exhaled and shook her head to bring herself back to the present properly. Violet peered through the mist again and started to walk towards the Well. As she started to hurry, freaking herself out a little with her imaginings of witch trials and executions in this peaceful, peculiar landscape, the mist wrapped itself around her, becoming a blizzard. She swiped at the flakes in front of her face, slipping on the icy mud and almost losing her footing as she finally approached Coventina’s Well.

The Sacred Well was, to her mild chagrin, nothing special to look at: a large, boggy puddle, surrounded by straggly plants and grasses, grey-green stalks poking out of the snow which had managed to pile up around the place even in the few minutes it had taken Violet to walk there from the stile. In the summer, no doubt, it would be quite pretty – maybe yellow or white flowers studded against the green grass. But today, it wasn’t quite so pretty. Somehow, though, she was still drawn to it.

Violet shivered. The atmosphere was thickening and it really felt as if someone or something was nearby. Violet glanced around – not scared, exactly, but very conscious of how ancient and mystical this place was. She could quite understand how the Romans had decided this place was sacred. She couldn’t shake the idea that there was something just a bit sinister about it as well. Logic told her it was the knowledge that Meg had been killed nearby, but that wasn’t all of it, she was sure.

Something caught Violet’s eye as she walked closer to the remains of the Well – something glinting from the snow-dusted reeds and grasses that looked like a dagger. That wasn’t good; there should not be something like that lying around.

It looked pretty old, so she didn’t think it had been used in the recent past for some awful crime, but she didn’t think she could leave it there, in all good conscience. An animal might get hurt, or a child could come and pick it up⁠—

‘Nope. You’re not staying there,’ Violet said to the dagger.

She took a few steps forwards, and half-slid, half-stumbled down the bank, keeping her gaze focused on the weapon. Then she reached out. She had to get it.

As she went to grab the handle, she faltered, missing the dagger and losing her footing completely, slipping down towards the Well, helplessly skidding towards the icy-cold water – and all she could think was the fact that the Well was apparently seven feet deep…

* * *

Jake still didn’t know what was propelling him forwards. He just knew he needed to be on the other side of the Burn. Through the swirling flakes of snow, he saw a figure far too close to the area he suspected – no, he knew – was Coventina’s Well.

The figure headed down the slope and, when they were close to the long reeds and grasses which seemed to surround the pool, they leant down, as if they were reaching for something. Then in one heart-stopping moment, he saw the person lose their footing and start to slither down towards the water.

He started to run – they were going to end up in the bloody water if they weren’t careful! It took him another split second to realise he actually knew the person who was sliding towards the icy water: her long, fair hair, her pink padded jacket…

‘Violet!’ Jake hurtled towards her and, just as the toe of her boot got covered with water, he managed to grab her arm and stop her from falling into the damn thing.

They tussled for a couple of moments as she tried to get her footing and he tried to hold onto her while she did so, and then somehow, hanging on to one another, they both managed to scramble back onto firmer ground.

‘I didn’t know you’d be here! Right now.’ Violet was shocked and white-faced as they clambered up the bank. Her grey eyes were wide and terrified. ‘You never said you were going to come. Why did you come?’

‘I wasn’t really coming looking for you. In fact, I was hoping that I wouldn’t see you, because it wasn’t planned and I know how you like your plans.’ Violet certainly didn’t like surprises or anything throwing her off her designated route. That was where the pair of them differed the most. Jake was a lot more spontaneous. Point in fact – he’d jumped in the van this morning and now he was on Hadrian’s Wall. In contrast, Violet had planned this rigorously in advance for her book. ‘However,’ he continued, ‘it’s just as well I was here, because if I wasn’t…’ He waved in the direction of the Well. ‘I can’t see anyone else rushing to help you, can you? There’s nobody here, it’s a bloody blizzard and you’re deciding to go for a paddle.’

‘You didn’t answer my question. What are you doing here?’ Violet glared at Jake and he glared back silently. ‘Okay – thank you for rescuing me.’ Violet rolled her eyes heavenwards as if she hadn’t just been saved from drowning. ‘But what are you really doing here?’

‘It sounded interesting, okay?’ Jake flushed and dipped his head. ‘And I thought it would be a nice surprise. You’re interested in Old Meg the witch.’ Jake could have sworn he heard a hiss from Violet, almost as if she didn’t believe Old Meg was a witch after all. ‘And I’m interested in – the rest. Coventina’s Well. The Shrine to the Water Nymphs. The Mithraeum.’ He brought himself up short when he remembered the feeling he’d got near the Mithraic Temple. ‘It’s the ancient Paganism versus Christianity debate. Why did they throw all the altars in the Well? Did someone decree that they had to give up their religion or what?’ Jake shrugged. ‘I don’t suppose I’ll find out, but I’d still like to see the place. And see the things they threw in there. I did not come here and expect to see you throwing yourself in there.’

‘I did not expect you to come and see me,’ she paused, ‘throwing myself in the Well. God.’ She shook her head and her shoulders went down as a bit of the tension left her. ‘There was something beside the Well and I went to get it and…’ She stopped, looking back over her shoulder. ‘I must have been imagining it. There’s nothing there. Maybe I knocked it back in with my feet?’ She took a couple of steps towards the Well again and Jake tensed, ready to rugby tackle her to the ground if necessary to stop her sliding down through that icy mud again. The Well – or the huge, boggy puddle that it seemed to be now – did not look welcoming. He didn’t know if he’d be lucky enough to grab her arm the next time.

‘Anyway. I’m safe now,’ Violet stopped in her tracks and turned back to him. ‘Thank God.’