‘The girl made it to the lighthouse and wasn’t heard from for years. The Brotherhood congratulated their hero, for he had rid the world of a potential threat. But, many years after the horrific murder on the moors, something resembling a woman began to stalk the countryside. Blood, devastation, loss, famine, failed crops, sinking ships … all of these things followed in her wake. This was exactly what the Brotherhood had been trying to protect us from. Some said it was a ghost, the mother, who was seen walking aimlessly, weeping. Others knew it was that same child, a darker, more ruthless version of the once innocent girl.

‘A witch.

‘Twisted and mangled with hatred and grief. But one thing was guaranteed: whenever there was a sighting, someone would go missing soon afterwards. And then suddenly the witch was seen in two different places at the same time, and then three, and then four, and then the local people realised that she had been recruiting. There was more than one witch quietly terrorising their lives, terrorising the countryside and all who dwelled there. It was whispered that they resided in the old lighthouse, where the girl had been heading when her mother was murdered, and soon the folklore around that lighthouse and its hauntings terrified even the bravest of villagers: no one dared go anywhere near it. Then, one day, it all stopped. It was as if she had grown tired of her reign of terror. There were no more sightings, no more deaths, no more failed crops. The only trace that was left was a note, nailed to the front door of a member of the Brotherhood who resided in Kelseth, that read:

‘I will never forgive, and I will never forget, but we are going from this cursèd place. We will return, but we will come in a different form.

‘Be ready.

‘Hecate Winter.

‘Now, I have reason to believe that the Shadow Sect, as I am reliably informed they now call themselves, have returned. Their ever-evolving names are a ploy to remain anonymous, no doubt, to cause confusion and stir up fear. The Brotherhood must be supported to protect us from the oncoming evil.

‘They have grown in number. In sophistication. In power. I have heard of multiple sightings of them all over our moors, and I have heard of at least one case of an innocent victim being stolen away. So, my friends, be vigilant. Be aware. I wish you a very good evening.’

Lorenna stood down from her makeshift stage and disappeared behind the bar, seemingly unaware of the effect her story had had on the remaining guests. There was a muttering that filled the air as the guests tried to ascertain whether the tale was simply folklore made to sound factual, or whether they had just heard the true origins of a terrifying woman who really was stealing and murdering their children.

Lily was warm and comfortable by the fire with her belly still full, soothed by the bowl of soup, but the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck were standing on end and her hands were clammy and shaking. If Lorenna was correct and this story of a growing army of vindictive witches was true, then these were the very people she would have to face. And they were led by the woman who had written to Alice.