Page 34 of The Snow Witch

Violet forced her eyes open, and the thought of what might be lurking down there – the wild idea that ghost hands could well start clawing at her – made her sob, and gave her the impetus to get out of the lift and hug the wall to get to the ladder.

Once her hands were on the cold metal of the ladder, Violet put a foot on the bottom rung and felt a well-meaning shove from Jake, urging her upwards.

She scrambled as fast as she could to the top, where the admissions clerk took her hand and helped her out through a trapdoor.

Jake wasn’t far behind, and soon they were both standing in the gift shop in the dark.

‘I’m so sorry,’ said the clerk as people emerged from the entrance to the staircase. ‘That’s only ever happened once before. Normally, the emergency power kicks in, and the lift goes straight to the ground floor and the doors open. Oh – there we go. See?’ The emergency lights flickered a couple of times, and the lift slowly rose through the floor and settled at the ground floor.

‘It’s fine,’ said Violet, although it was not fine, not really, but it wasn’t the clerk’s fault. ‘I just want to get out of here now.’

‘Don’t blame you. I’d offer you a coffee, but I’m not sure the kettle would work.’

Violet’s stomach churned. Coffee was the last thing she wanted. She just wanted out of there.

‘And oh, I don’t know if you’re still interested, but the witch who might have been here was called Jane Martin,’ said the clerk. ‘She was maybe held here before she was transported to the Newcastle trials. She’s a mystery, though. Possibly the wife of a miller, possibly not. Possibly from Catton or Haydon Bridge. Some say she was executed, and some say she was only accused and vanished without trace after the trials; if she was innocent, I guess she just wanted to disappear afterwards.’

Violet knew that feeling. She would love to disappear right now. Love it. ‘Great. Thanks,’ she said mechanically. She flashed a smile at the clerk, which felt so fake, even she was astonished. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go.’

‘Don’t blame you. Here, let me sort you a refund.’

‘No, don’t be daft,’ said Jake. ‘It was an interactive experience. People would pay good money for that.’ He shook the clerk’s hand. ‘Thanks, mate.’ Then Violet felt Jake’s hand come around her waist and he escorted her gently outside.

Once she was safely in the street, Violet took a few big, deep breaths of cold, crisp air and blew out a sigh. ‘Nothing in this area is straightforward,’ she said. ‘Honestly.’

‘I know! Roman tombstones in an Abbey, a gaol made out of bricks from a Roman Fort – and a witch held there before her trial. This place is amazing. It’s like around every corner, there’s a new “old” thing to discover, and they’re all connected.’

Violet looked up at Jake. He was grinning. Literally grinning from ear to ear.

‘Oh, how true that is,’ she murmured.

22

THEN

Meggie knelt by Coventina’s Well and looked up at the sky. She shivered. It was the first day of Yule, the Winter Solstice, but the winter seemed to have come early this year and lasted an age.

A heavy, grey cloud was moving slowly through the leaden sky. She knew it would bring more snow with it. Out here on the moor, there was nowhere to shelter. Not that it mattered. She preferred the vast expanse of ancient lands tainted with the stains and rocks of Roman occupation to the village. Here, with the Roman wall snaking through the landscape, she felt safe.

The village was where gossip was rife, and where she was being accused of murder. What if she did try to escape? What if she simply left Newbrough and disappeared? She had told Emory she would not do that, but the last few days had not been easy. Her cottage felt violated from the thing she’d seemingly conjured, and she did not want to take the chance it would come back. She felt unsafe in there for the first time in her life.

Perhaps she could leave Newbrough and go to one of the bigger towns – like Hexham, or maybe Newcastle – and find some sort of work there. She could go further if she needed to. She could just disappear, and nobody would bother her.

But Emory would have to be there; he simply must be. No. She could not plan this without him.

The first few flakes of new snow fluttered down, the clouds rolling in bringing the promise of more, and Meggie pulled her shawl closer to her body. Her gaze drifted up to the old Roman fort, and she saw a man on horseback on top of it.

The figure began to urge the horse down the side of the old fort, and then whipped it so it picked up speed and began to gallop dangerously fast down the slope, arrow-straight, right towards the valley where Meggie was.

She stood up with some difficulty and squinted into the snow flurry. He was definitely coming towards her, and if she wasn’t mistaken, it was⁠—

‘No,’ she whispered. Her dagger was tucked into the rope tied loosely around her waist, and she reached for it instinctively.

‘Meggie. What a delight.’

It was Charles. She had been correct. He was drunk, if she wasn’t mistaken, and had a look in his eyes that told her he wasn’t looking for help today. Someone had rejected him.

Milburn nodded towards the blackthorn stick she had near her and the bowl of water balanced by the Well. ‘I see I am interrupting some type of – ritual? Very interesting.’