“That was when she made the offer. I’d get information, very special information, about Colum’s movements for the autumn and the winter, enough to make taking that bay a certainty. Enough to give me the foothold I needed. In return, all I had to do was remove you from the picture. She even told me how to do it. Oh, she didn’t mind me playing with you first. She understood that’s part of the fun. An irresistible part. But make sure, she said, that the girl burns and her witch’s work burns with her. That’s the only way you can destroy a sorceress. Hot fire. Eamonn had the wherewithal to make it, and he showed me himself. First you buy a nice little cargo of bluestone, ostensibly for dyeing, you understand? Costs more than a few head of your best cattle, that does, but worth it. Well worth it. You grind it down in a mortar, very fine, until you get a powder that looks as harmless as dust. You mix it with an oil of the best quality, fit to anoint a bishop’s brow—amusing piece of irony, that. Then you’re ready for business. It doesn’t take much of your mixture, sprinkled over the faggots, to set up a nice blaze. Colorful, too—the green is especially pretty. It flares. It’s hot. It’s hungry. But Eamonn, he’s not content with that. He prepares his wood in advance, leaves it soaking, eating up the mixture until it’s full to bursting. Then he dries it. You should see that, when the flames lick at it. I brought home an interesting load of small ash logs, last time I paid my friend a visit. I plan to use them in the very near future. That was what the woman told me, after all. Do it soon, she said. Destroy this girl soon. You must do it before…tell me, my dear, how many of these shirts have you made?”

I sat extremely still. I was afraid to breathe.

“Let’s have a look, shall we?” He rose in a single fluid movement and laid his hands on my basket. “Not that I believe in magic, myself. But still, I made a promise. How many have we, four, five?”

I sprang to my feet, and my hands went out, clutching desperately at the basket, but I had grown weaker than I realized and he brushed me aside like some troublesome insect.

“One, two, three, four, five. We have been working hard, haven’t we? And most of another. Well done, little sorceress. Still, there’s not long now. I shouldn’t think I’ll have much difficulty complying with the lady’s request. Make sure you do it before the girl finishes, she said. Gather them together, the little sorceress and her work. Burn them together. And bring me back a report, she said. I want a full description.” He smiled at me. “Neat conclusion, isn’t it? Tidy for all of us. Hugh would approve. He always liked a tidy life.”

Go away. Go now, before shock and fear and loathing overwhelm me. Go now, before rage makes me try something foolish. Breathe, Sorcha. In, out. In, out.