These past two nights I’ve looked for the stone, and found nothing. Tonight I waited as long as I dared, hoping Daniel might come anyway, but he did not and though I know his feelings are true, I begin to wonder if something has happened that keeps him away. Perhaps his courage fails. Perhaps we’ve been discovered.

I usually take care to avoid the tavern on my way back, for the swill-bellies coming out bring all manner of troubles, but this night am distracted and stray too close. Keeping to the shadows, I skirt the path, hoping to go unseen by the figure staggering from the door.

‘You.’

The shout pulls me to a halt, chills my skin. I turn to face the farmhand, Gabriel. Look about, but no friendly face to help me. Though the only friend would be Seth, and he unlikely to be found at the tavern. I feel the shock, the fear, ripple over my features. Despise myself for showing it.

‘What are you doing, eh?’ he asks. ‘Loitering here to bring upon me some other, stronger curse? Be warned, your filthy witchery cannot take hold, for I have shook off your sorcery and none other from your hand will have an effect.’

He saunters towards me. I resist the urge to back away, and face him. I will not falter.

In the corner of my eye I see a figure running towards us. Small and slight, but swift. Strong enough to do me harm, no doubt. I wonder, if they’ve drunk enough, if I can outrun them both.

The farmhand leans forward. Close enough now to smell the ale on his breath. ‘Think you can hide from me? Think your home shall keep you safe? Dare to close your eyes at night and see what comes upon you. There’s things unfinished between us.’

The figure is upon us, pushing me aside and standing between me and the farmhand, and only now do I realise it is John. Chest heaving, legs apart and shoulders straight, a vain attempt to appear a greater threat. They face each other. John, smaller by far and half as wide. I see his fear in the set of his jaw, smell it in his sweat. He lifts his chin and eyes the brute, nonetheless.

‘Leave my sister be,’ he says. Voice thin in comparison to the farmhand’s, but steady.

‘Think I’m afeared of you?’ Gabriel attempts a sneer that does not quite convince. His sudden pallor and the widening of his eyes at the sight of John betray him.

John speaks slowly, leaving space between the words. ‘Leave my sister be.’

I watch. Frightened for John, for he will easily be beaten if this comes to blows, and moved by both his fear and courage. Grateful for his protection. Angry with myself for needing it.