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skittering around the
room. What the hell does she do in here?
    A pot gave off a strange yellow spark and Adam jumped back. He
wished he didn’t know the answer to his question but he did. Granny Hildegarde
mixed potions and herbs and although most of the good people in the county were
scared of her they still purchased her illicit mixtures—much to the anger of
the apothecary.
    A frog or maybe a toad hopped into the spark emitting pot and
Adam wondered whether he should free the creature. He stepped forward to do so,
then changed his mind. It would be stupid to compound his already grievous list
of offences by messing with Granny’s mixtures. Potions, Adam, they’re bloody
potions .
    He shook his head and resumed his pacing.
    Witch, witch, witch. The word echoed through his mind and
Adam closed his eyes. It seemed almost ridiculous to think such a thing in this
day and age, yet there was no denying the feats that the old woman could do.
Diseases healed, barren women given babies and sometimes whispers of more.
Curses and spells. Evil men brought to justice, crops resurrected. Granny
Hildegarde, they said, could make anything happen if she wanted to.  If she was
provoked enough…
    Would she be able to make her granddaughter better? Adam
wondered. Not just physically but mentally too? Would the scrap of a girl
recover?
    “In time meebe.”
    Adam turned to see Granny Hildegarde stood in the doorway, blood
staining her apron. Evie’s blood… on your hands…
    “Granny Hildegarde, I don’t know what to say.”
    The old woman eyed him with her strange gaze. “Ye know ye bear
the responsibility of this boy.”
    Adam nodded, ignoring the fact that she referred to him as ‘boy’
and not by his proper title. Granny seemed above such things as titles and
class distinctions.
    “All down to ye.”
    He nodded again. Of course he bore responsibility. It was his
fault damn fault. If only I didn’t throw the party, if only I’d started
listening to Papa’s voice sooner, if only… if only... “I’ve dealt with the
man who did this to her,” he said, trying to find some way to make the
situation better.
    “And what dids ye do to him?” she asked.
    “I horse whipped him.”
    “Is he dead?”
    “No.”
    “He’ll be by nightfall of that I’ll be sure.”
    “Granny—”
    “Ye’ve spent so long since your Papa died being idle and
reckless, wasting away all the advantages given to ye,” she interrupted. “This
or something alike was bound to happen. Ye’ve neglected your people, boy.”
    Adam bowed his head, shame coursing through him. How can I
deny it, the very thoughts that have burned my mind for the last few days?
    “Ye’ve wasted so much and now taken so much.”
    “I didn’t know this would happen, I’d never have allowed it had I
known!” Adam said, stung, because he wouldn’t. Surely the old crone did not
believe that of him?
    “Ye neglect has allowed for it and ye will pay for it.”
    Adam nodded. There was nothing for it but to take his punishment
like a man. Time and more to finally act like one.“Whatever you need
I’ll give it to you, whatever it takes.”
    “I looked into ye future boy, long ago I looked, when your Mama
was ill, and I saw, but I dinna know how it was to come about. Now I do and it
will be done.”
    Confused Adam peered into her wrinkled face. “What do you mean?”
    Granny lifted her apron and began to wipe off the blood from her
hands. “The child is in pain, helpless, lost. Ye must feel what she did, the
fear, the suffocation. To wait and wonder if any help is ever goings to come.”
    “I—” 
    “Ye’ll understand as the years pass like this what ye took from
her with ye childish ways, and one day ye’ll know.”
    “Granny, be fair,” Adam said, a twinge or something akin to fear
skittering across his skin. “I know I bear responsibility but I didn’t harm
her. I never would, she’s just a girl.”
    “Yer position comes with responsibilities,” Granny