Lily calmed herself with a deep breath, trying to ignore the rattling heart threatening to leap out of her chest, held her head high, and feigned enough confidence to walk into the inn. She had never, in her entire life, entered a place like this without Uncle Alf in tow. With him by her side, she became invisible. He always did the talking, sorted out their rooms, ordered the food, made sure they had a seat by the fire, and allowed Lily to simply enjoy the peace of a little break away from the village. They tended to use inns and coaching houses whenever they needed to take a longer trip to collect ingredients for remedies that weren’t easily harvestable from their local hedgerows.

Every few months, Alf would close the shop up early on a Friday afternoon and he would take Lily on an adventure for a few days. Sometimes they would travel north, venturing over the glens to collect mosses with special healing properties. Other times they would travel west to the coastline to harvest seaweed and see if they could spot a mermaid or a selkie if they were lucky. Lily was used to a little bit of travel, but she had always had Alf to guide her, to protect her, to lean on. Those adventures had never required bravery or strength. This adventure required every ounce of courage that Lily possessed.

The problem with being a lone female traveller in these parts, especially late in the evening, was that Lily drew attention to herself simply by existing. Women didn’t travel alone. Especially young women. Lily was already bound to attract suspicious glances, but that, combined with her scared-rabbit eyes, short stature, freckled skin, and easily-flushed cheeks, meant she gave out an air of being considerably younger than she was. As she stepped over the threshold into the inn, she tried to ignore every face in the room that turned towards her.

The room had low, dark painted beams and a long bar which was dotted with men who seemed to prefer to stand there rather than find themselves a comfortable seat elsewhere. The inn was filled with a cacophony of heady scents that Lily found quite pleasant: there was the hoppy smell of ale, which was overflowing out of every cask. There was also a warming, spiced scent that seemed to dance through the air, reminding Lily of how hungry she was. Despite the intimidating clientele, Lily relaxed into the character of a confident traveller. Her body ached and she needed nourishment and rest if she was to continue on another long day’s trek with Morrigan in the morning.

Lily stood tall, lifted her chin, and approached the bar. She caught the eye of a plump, friendly-looking woman who could only be the landlady. She had a round, welcoming face and a wide smile. Behind the jolly exterior though, Lily could sense a questioning curiosity, a level of concern that radiated from the woman’s heavy-lidded eyes.