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Back The Darkest Shore Save as PDF
Chapters (76)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Also by Karen Brooks
  4. Title Page
  5. Dedication
  6. EXPLANATORY NOTE
  7. PART ONE
  8. One
  9. Two
  10. Three
  11. Four
  12. Five
  13. Six
  14. Seven
  15. Eight
  16. Nine
  17. Ten
  18. Eleven
  19. Twelve
  20. Thirteen
  21. Fourteen
  22. Fifteen
  23. Sixteen
  24. Seventeen
  25. Eighteen
  26. Nineteen
  27. Twenty
  28. Twenty-One
  29. Twenty-Two
  30. Twenty-Three
  31. Twenty-Four
  32. Twenty-Five
  33. Twenty-Six
  34. Twenty-Seven
  35. Twenty-Eight
  36. PART TWO
  37. Twenty-Nine
  38. Thirty
  39. Thirty-One
  40. Thirty-Two
  41. Thirty-Three
  42. Thirty-Four
  43. Thirty-Five
  44. PART THREE
  45. Thirty-Six
  46. Thirty-Seven
  47. Thirty-Eight
  48. Thirty-Nine
  49. Forty
  50. Forty-One
  51. Forty-Two
  52. Forty-Three
  53. Forty-Four
  54. Forty-Five
  55. Forty-Six
  56. Forty-Seven
  57. Forty-Eight
  58. Forty-Nine
  59. Fifty
  60. Fifty-One
  61. Fifty-Two
  62. PART FOUR
  63. Fifty-Three
  64. Fifty-Four
  65. Fifty-Five
  66. Fifty-Six
  67. Fifty-Seven
  68. Fifty-Eight
  69. Fifty-Nine
  70. Sixty
  71. Sixty-One
  72. Epilogue: Autumn 1706
  73. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  74. GLOSSARY
  75. LIST OF CHARACTERS
  76. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Sorcha also understood Beatrix didn’t want to be seen with her. If she was so determined she’d done nothing wrong, and today had been the authorities flexing their might, then why was she protecting them? What was Beatrix not telling them?

Farewelling Katherine, Lillie and Beatrix, Sorcha headed up the High Street lost in thought, only dimly aware of Captain Ross hailing her and responding with a half-hearted reply.

What were the bailies and Reverend Cowper really up to? And, if they were convinced Beatrix, on her own admission, cast a charm, why on God’s good earth did they let her go?

Fourteen

FOURTEEN

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The proof o’ the pudding’s the preein’ o’t.

(Don’t form judgements without some knowledge.)

Sorcha was dreaming of her mor. Her long barley-coloured hair was unbound and she was standing at the water’s edge, arms outstretched, laughing, facing the Forth. Her smile was wide, her pale blue eyes sparkled, making her look like one of her Nordic goddesses descended from the sky. She was calling to her, but the gentle murmurs of the ocean and the wind stole the words from her mouth and transformed them into cloudy wisps. Sorcha wanted to share her mother’s unexpected joy, fly into those arms, feel the loving embrace she’d always imagined. But as she tried to make her way forwards, her mor’s face changed. Those eyes the colour of a summer morning widened in terror. Her beautiful mouth pulled back in a grimace of sheer horror. The sea, so hushed before, transformed into a mighty swell. A giant wave, starting beyond the Isle of May, became a solid wall that raced towards the Weem, towards her mor. She shouted a warning, screamed as, instead of fleeing, her mother lowered her arms, raised her chin and shut her eyes. The wave, a tower of deadly might, soared up and up before it folded, down, down, down, crashing upon the sand, the darkening shore, upon her mor, and in great, greedy gulps took all of Pittenweem with it…

‘Sorcha, for God’s sake, wake up.’

It took her a moment to cease flailing, before she understood her mother wasn’t being swept up and drowned, the village wasn’t being destroyed. She was in her bedroom.

‘Nettie.’ Sorcha sat up, untangling herself from the covers, looking around blinking. ‘I was having a dream…’

‘Dream?’ said Nettie, propped on the edge of the bed. ‘Was a nightmare if you ask me.’ She appraised her friend. ‘What are you doing asleep at this time of day?’

Sorcha rubbed her eyes. ‘I didn’t sleep much after yesterday, what with Beatrix and all. And we were up so early this morning and then the catch…’ Her voice trailed away. Intending to simply rest her head when she came home, she could scarce believe she’d fallen into such a deep sleep.