Miranda Kate's Blog, page 8
July 30, 2023
Review: Parasite Crop, by Mark Cassell.

My rating: 4 of 5 stars
This novel sees Mark Cassell's expand his range in the horror genre, with a departure from the paranormal horror of the Shadow Fabric mythos.
Parasite Crop starts bleak and desolate on the south coast of England, in Dungeness - the name itself setting the scene. And this particular horror embraces the senses with a slimy fungus-like 'crop' which affects some of the characters. This book leaves you feeling very uncomfortable and squeamish in some of the scenes, but has some great twists which keep you engaged and turning the page.
I really enjoyed it.
View all my reviews
July 12, 2023
Mid-Week flash on hiatus until September
It's been a couple of years since I have taken a break from #MidWeekflash, but as I am off on holiday, and then my eldest turns 18, all while trying to get Tricky's third book written (in my Tricky's Tales series), I have a bit too much on my plate to keep up with it.
Apologies to recent joiners, but DO feel free to write for ANY of the previous posts (including this picture). There are no time limits on these challenges and you will find all previous photos in the archives in this blog, or in a photo album in the MidWeekFlash Facebook group.
July 5, 2023
Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 302
This week's picture prompt was taken by Juuso Hämäläinen over on Instagram. It was taken in Levi, Lappi, Finland. He has some stunning shots and art. Worth taking some time to enjoy them.
Another Tricky story this week as she is at the forefront of my mind. The lst one was on Week 300.
The General Guidelines can be found here.
How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Trace
Tricky was utterlyunprepared for this. Her clothes weren’t made to deal with all this white,thick, cold stuff. She was wet through, and felt weighted down. She’d neverexperienced snow before, only read about it. Apparently some big old jolly man,all dressed in red, was going to come careening over the slopes on a sleighpulled by some funny looking animals, and offer her a present – at least thatwas what all the old books said when it was the season for this stuff to fallfrom the sky, back before the shift.
But the only big old man likely to show uphere was Douglas Bottle, aka Gandalf, and Tricky knew his jolly disposition wasmore a sinister sneer. No, she didn’t want any old men showing up to give heranything, thank you very much. She was doing just fine on her own.
But why was he traveling this way? He wasway too easy to track in snow. He knew she was following him. Or was that thepoint? Was he thinking he was setting his own trap? Tricky chuckled to herself.He really hadn’t learnt, had he? He was helping her implement her own plan. Shejust needed to know where he’d gone soe she could pull all the threadstogether.
She stopped by one of the snow laden trees,a strong spruce. She put her hands on its trunk and received its high jittery,lime green energy. When she visualised Bottle, she saw his brightly dressedgarb rushing off ahead of her, slightly downhill, then it paused by a largeconifer and vanished.
She passed on some of her own energy to thetree as thanks, and stuffed her hands back in her pockets, attempting to savethem from the cutting cold. As she looked at the path ahead, she couldn’t help noticethe heavens above. Up high on a mountain side with air sharpened by the cold,the clarity of the night sky was striking. It seemed full to bursting withbright pinpricks denoting other stars in other universes. Tricky wasn’tfamiliar enough with constellations to know if the patterns were different fromher own time, though she suspected they were. And the streak of distantnebulous cloud which outlined the arm of their galaxy gave it more depth. Sheinhaled a deep lungful of crisp clear air and gave herself a moment beforecontinuing her pursuit.
Even though she was here to weave a littlemagic of her own, she still embraced the awe and wonder at passing through theselocations. And there was no shortage of them, as this particular stunt wasproving.
Tricky knew Bottle thought he knew what hewas doing, leading her into a trap, but he clearly underestimated her craftynature. It was a merry dance alright, but one he wasn’t going to end up enjoying,she was sure of that – oh yes she was. She smiled to herself as she set offdown the hill. She wished she could see his face when he realised how he’dallowed her to ensnare him.
When she arrived at the large conifer, sheclosed her eyes and took in a deep breath. The crystal air made everything alittle bit sharper and she quickly saw the remnants of the line Gandalf hadopened into the next time. But the energy colour had shifted slightly, as shesuspected, because he was trying to lead her into his own trap.
To those that could read energy as well asTricky, this ploy was obvious. He’d already tried it twice and she hadn’tfallen for it either time, but he hadn’t seem to have realised that. And whatit enabled Tricky to do was create her own little net of deception. The fact hewas still clueless meant there was a greater chance of success.
She took another breath and blew out gentlyacross the line causing it to glow. She took out the obsidian still wrapped ingermwort and scraped up a grain of creasy from the few loose in her pocket. Shedidn’t need much, just a spark to open it a slither. She held them in the airagainst the line, and when she dropped the creasy onto the covered stone, it openeda crack as she’d hoped. She took a tiny piece of aluminium foil out of anotherpocket and stuck it in the gap. It fizzed and crackled, but closed, leaving abarely visible scrap of metal in the air. Few people would notice its existence.
Such metals were a rarity in Tricky’s world,but she’d come across a roll buried in some rubble where there’d been adwelling before the shift. She’d only ever used tiny scraps, learning early on itsuse as a replacement mirror.
A raucous cackle escaped her and echoed offthe snow covered hills. Oh this was going to be so much fun.
June 28, 2023
Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 301
This week's picture prompt is a digital creation by Ciara, or Aura, as she calls herself online, and She Freaks, She Speaks, over on Facebook. She has some wonderful digital art, and she also has a shop where she sell crystals and crystal jewellery. If you like that sort of thing there's a lot of choice. I have also used one of her pictures before - remember the stain glassed bath? That was one of her pictures.
A gentler story today.
The General Guidelines can be found here.
How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Mind Magic
Adeline swirled thespecial glass-bodied teapot, with its multicoloured gemstone decoration roundthe top, letting the herbs and spices within release their properties into thehot water.
She inhaled the steam coming out of thefiligree spout, and smiled, knowing it was almost ready.
She set it down on the small coffee tableand laid crystals and gemstones around it, placing candles in between so thelight flowed through them.
She moved into her cross-legged positionand inhaled deeply. The scent was getting stronger and she knew it wouldn’t belong now.
Since Adeline had discovered this route toaccessing the other side, she indulged it as often as she could. She hoped soonshe would reach him.
She took in a deep breath and closed hereyes. The light behind them swirled with rainbow colours, which began to moveinto a spiral, taking her further into herself and the cavernous rooms of themind. Then an archway appeared in her mind’s eye and she stepped through into ameadow which swept away to a cliff edge.
She walked to the cliff edge and lookedacross the wide vista in front of her, where the mountains opened up to plainsof lush green forests and open spaces. It was a spectacle to behold.
She called out his name hearing it echoacross the land. She did this repeatedly then walked to a hill that rose offthe left side of the meadow, and sat cross-legged at the top. She closed hereyes, seeing the meadow in her mind’s eye again and repeating the same actions.She did this four times. During the fourth she felt him: his energy, his mood,his aura.
Then a whisper; her name on the breeze. Shecalled out to him again, opening her eyes and standing up, hoping to glimpse him.
Sheopened her arms wide and felt an energy swirl round her. It was his energy. Hewas here!
She wished she could see him, but feelinghim was special, being that it had been several lifetimes since she had. Shehoped to be reunited in their next life – it’s why she was doing this. If shecould connect to him enough times in this life, they would be able to find eachother more easily in the next.
She breathed in his aura, remembering hissoftness, his loving nature and his heart. She felt his yearning andreciprocated it. For a few precious seconds they were entwined again. Sherevelled in it, not wanting it to be over, but before she knew it he had gone.
Adeline waited in case he returned. It couldhave been for a few seconds or it could have been hours. Eventually she acceptedthe moment was over and she pulled herself out of each level of meditation. Thenshe brought herself back into her body, and opened her eyes, staring at the elaborateteapot.
She felt sad yet at the same time elated. Shemissed him, but knew he was there waiting.
She treasured that moment as much as shetreasured her teapot.
She touched the side of it. It had growncold now, but, like her love for him, the hot water could be replenished; themagic was still alive.
June 20, 2023
Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 300
This week's picture prompt was created by Hungarian artist Sarolta Bán. She has some incredible art, and in fact I have used one of her pictures before back on Week 24 - in the early days of me running this challenge. And I have another one due to be used in the coming weeks, and there will be more in the future. They are just so thought provoking.
Another Tricky tale, maybe I'll use it in her books, maybe I won't. But I do love developing the stories. The last one was on Week 297.
The General Guidelines can be found here.
How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Visitors
Tricky heard afluttering and watched two birds land on the beach behind her. They weren’t thecorvids from Lucien’s flock, so who were they? They eyed her and she wonderedif Douglas Bottle had them in his employ. Had he sent them to spy on her? Shefelt uncomfortable now as she adjusted the easel, turning the canvas towardsher.
One of them cooed. They were doves, whiteones. They seemed far too pretty and delicate to be handled by an oversizedclown like Bottle. They circled each other as though putting on a display,while moving towards her at the same time.
“I don’t trust you,” she said out loud. “Howhave you found me?”
They kept on coming, ignoring her words. Apart of her had expected some kind of reaction, maybe they were just birds thatlived here. But Tricky didn’t think so.
An entire empty beach and they land by her?She didn’t buy it. There was something crafty and sneaky about them. Then oneof them flew up and perched on top of the canvas. It cooed again lookingstraight at her. It was definitely here for her. Did it have a message of somekind? She looked at it’s feet but there was nothing attached to them, or theone on the ground.
“What are you trying to tell me, deary?What is it you want me to know?”
It scratched the top of the blank canvas.
“You want me to start painting? I can dothat – but this isn’t any normal paint, you know that, right? This is paintingwith energy, to see something that isn’t here in this time.”
It cooed at her again as though agreeing.It bobbed its head up and down. Okay, that was definitely a nod. Tricky rolledher shoulders to quell a shudder that had run up her back. These birds werehere for her, but who had sent them? The only person she knew who could do thatwas Safa, who had to be working with Annie – but it could also be one ofGandalf’s lackeys. She wouldn’t put it past him to have tracked her here. Shekept trying to remain undetected but he kept finding her. He was definitely hermatch with this time jumping lark.
So how could she be sure this bird was onher side? She tried to think of things only Safa would know that could beanswered simply.
Tricky picked up the painting palette andheld it close to the bird. Using the paint brush, she pointed to the circle ofcolours.
“What is the colour of my mother’sprotection stone?”
The bird looked at her. Safa knew theanswer because she’d been there when Tricky had used it. It turned its head tothe side and eyed the palette. It looked at her again, then it sprung onto thepalette. Tricky steadied it with both hands. It circled the colours, eyeingeach one, then it dipped a claw into the green and swiped it across a blankpiece of palette. It eyed her again as if asking if it was the right one.
Tricky felt the hairs on her arms rise.Yep, this was Safa’s bird alright.
“Good. So what is it you want me to know?”
It jumped back onto the top of the canvasand again tapped its claw on it.
“Something you want me to see?”
It bobbed its head down and cooed.
“Okay, I’ll get started.”
Tricky dabbed the paintbrush into theyellow and smeared it across the canvas. It began to glow. Then she dipped itinto the green and painted round the edges of the canvas for protection. Theglow covered the dove and it fluttered its wings before settling again.
Now for the tricky bit.
Tricky swirled all the colours on thepalette together, while taking long breaths, drawing up as much energy as shecould from the ocean. Then she blew over it and it glistened. As she swept thebrush across the canvas another picture appeared. The back of a man walkingaway from her. But not just any man, one she knew, (you couldn’t help spot himwith that ridiculous top hat and silly old-world costume), one she’d love tosee the back of – although not like this; she wanted him dead and gone.
“Tell me, deary, what do I need to knowabout Dimitri Stanislav?”
The second dove joined the first on the topof the canvas and they both started cooing and bobbing in unison. A whiteenergy began to form around them and they simultaneously swooped down in frontof the canvas onto the ground, spreading the energy across the painting.
This time the man was joined by a group offive others, one of them dressed in garish, clashing colours: Gandalf, akaDouglas Bottle.
“They’re in cahoots. I know that already,deary.”
But the group huddled, and then steppedback and what Tricky saw made her gasp.
“No! Oh no. Oh shit. I need to move – now!”
Tricky scrambled in her pockets for theobsidian, germwort and creasy, and immediately activated a rent in time. Itopened in the middle of the canvas. She pushed it open making sure it was thedestination she sought, and climbed through. As she turned to seal it, she sawthe two doves sitting on the sand watching her.
“Thank you so much, dearies. Tell yourmistress I’m on my way. I’m not having this!”
And with that she sealed it with a pop. Sheonly hoped she would be in time to get Nathan out of her cabin.
June 14, 2023
Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 299
This week's picture prompt is by Jim Campbell over on twitter, taken at a hotel in Melbourne in 2016. He said: “The outside of hotel room windows taken through the window from the inside of a hotel room. Perspective." Jim also said: "I had just returned to my hotel room after a walk around Melbourne CBD and I looked out the window and all the lights were off and I thought, 'Well that's dull.' Within seconds that one light came on and I got the shot."
This one took a while to unravel, but I like it.
The General Guidelines can be found here.
How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Exposed
When he saw thelight go on, Jack felt his heart rate increase. They were back. It was time.
He shifted his position on the window ledgeand leant behind him for the binoculars, altering the focus so he could get abetter look.
A lot of people in hotel rooms on highfloors didn’t bother with curtains – especially when it had a view of the citybelow – and these two were no exception. Jack was glad, otherwise thisoperation would fail.
He could see the two of them on the sofa,getting fresh with each other. He could have stayed and watched the wholething, but that would screw up the plan, and he didn’t want to do that. Otherswere depending on him.
He left the room he was in and hurried down,taking the stairs rather than the lift so he was less likely to be spotted. Heran across the courtyard between the two buildings, pulling his black hoodie uptight so no one could see his face in the night light, and ascended the otherside using the stairs too, waiting at the top to catch his breath before takingthe next step.
He heard a sound along the corridor as hecame out of the stairwell, and froze, listening keenly. There was whisperingand a lot of shushing. He knew who it was, so remained in the corridor, andwaited.
They appeared round the corner and whenthey spotted him, he put his finger to his lips. They immediately quieted.There were four of them and, like him, all decked out in black with black hoodies.
They moved together as one along thecorridor until they came to the room with the light showing under the door.
Even though they knew there weren’t anyother occupied rooms in the hotel, they checked up and down the corridor tomake sure they weren’t interrupted. There was no way of knowing if someone haddiscovered their plan and were going to sabotage them.
Jack put his hand up and counted down fromfive on his fingers. On one, he put the master keycard into the lock and heardthe click as it opened. He carefully opened the door, hoping that they werestill so busy with each other they wouldn’t hear anything.
Once all five of them were through in the hallwayof this particular suite, he carefully closed the door, guiding the automaticclosing mechanism to make sure it remained silent.
They stood and looked at each other, eachpulling a different object out of their pocket. Then they moved into the roomswiftly, flicking the light switch off as they went.
There were screams and shouts, strobelighting, and the sound of a camera shutter. Then they exited as quickly andquietly as they’d entered, this time leaving in different directions.
Jack returned to the stairs he had come upand ran down them, his soft shoes almost soundless. He heard doors opening anda few shouts – security no doubt – but they were too slow and he was out ofthere and out of the courtyard of the hotel before they had even reached thebottom.
He returned to his flat and processed the informationhe’d gathered straight away, sending it out to the relevant people, working inco-ordination with the other four. Then he relaxed, took a shower and read hisbook until he fell asleep.
The following morning, he turned on thenews to find it buzzing with footage of a top government official caught with ahooker in one of the rooms in a new hotel complex that hadn’t yet opened. Noone seemed to know where the footage had come from, but it was a scandal he wouldn’tcome back from. Jack smiled. Job well done.
June 9, 2023
Review: Tread Gently Amidst The Barrows, by Jack Rollins

My rating: 5 of 5 stars
A short, sharp, dark and claustrophic short from Jack Rollins, which gives a whole new spin on the existence of Trolls and a different, more terrifying perspective of their existence - this is no Three Billy Goat's Gruff!
This little tale is not for the faint hearted, and I particularly liked the use of an event in the MC's past coming back round. A great way to grow the character and bring him closer to the reader.
An enjoyable introduction to Jack Rollins' writing style. A definite recommend.
View all my reviews
June 7, 2023
Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 298
This week's picture prompt was taken by Shihya Kowatari, a Japanese photographer. Shihya Kowatari is a Japanese photographer who captured the leaves and flowers under the lights of different colors. She has some incredible pictures, so worth checking out.
A dark little fairy tale.
The General Guidelines can be found here.
How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Fairy Wings
Iolanthe caressedthe delicate leaf-shaped wing, its fine gossamer structure silky under herfingers. She couldn’t believe they were finally hers. She would at last be ableto fulfil her true fairy potential. She trembled at the anticipation of havingthem fitted, but first she washed the blood off the tips; if they saw that theymight be alerted to the fact she hadn’t come into possession of them legitimately.Some things were worth more than morality – at least she thought so.
If you wanted to be accepted in life youhad to be prepared to cut corners, and on occasion take risks. Those mightinclude cutting another life down and risking your own, but to finally be ableto become one of them, it was all that mattered.
She went over to the full length mirror andturned her back to it. Her own mangled stumps had kept her grounded. Acongenital defect they said, because her mother shouldn’t have fallen in lovewith her uncle.
Io didn’t care. He’d been a good father untilthey’d hanged him for treason to the Queen. Iolanthe didn’t consider her a trueQueen. She’d been self appointed and used brute force with some of her sycophanticfollowers to become their ruler. She wasn’t loved she was tolerated. Everyoneknew it, but her father had been the only one stupid enough to say it.
But none of that mattered now. Once Io hadher wings she would be away from all this. She’d heard about another collectivein woods to the south and that was where she was going. Her escape plan was inplace. Everything was moving along as it should. As long as the surgery wentwell, it was full wings to the wind.
A knock at the door told her they were here.She dried off the wings, let them in and they set about preparing her and theroom for the operation. She thought she’d be too excited to fall asleep, butthe hypnosis spell worked within seconds, and the next thing she knew she waswaking up in a darkened room, her back killing her.
Iolanthe’s head was fuzzy but she was surethis wasn’t her chamber. And when she tried to move she couldn’t finding herhands and feet strapped down. Was this to protect her new wings? But no matter howmuch she tried she couldn’t feel any motion from her back, just pain. Even herold twisted nubs used to move a little bit.
Then she heard a door open and a lamp waslit, and she saw she was in an empty cell, laid out on a cot.
“Ah, you are awake, good. We will keep youhere for the time being, until we deem it safe to move you,” the nurse said,checking her wounds.
“Where am I? I can’t feel my new wings.”
“That’s because you don’t have any.”
“What?”
“Only donated wings can be refitted. Stolenwings have a fail safe that can’t be unlocked. You should have known that. The doctorsrealised as soon as they attempted it. You are no better than human now – even lessthan, because you’re a murderer. Once they recover the body they will disposeof you along with it.”
Io felt tears fill her eyes. If she couldn’tfly they may as well dispose of her too, there was no point in living otherwise.
May 31, 2023
Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 297
This week's picture is of a Sequoia tree (Redwood) that has fallen and regenerated from the old trunk - branches have become new trees. It was taken by Ron Levy of the Redwood World website, which follows and tracks the Redwood groves in the UK, which is a big thing going on to combat climate change. This particular photo was taken at the Royal Forestry Society's Redwood Grove in Leighton, Montgomeryshire, in Wales. There are few sites in Wales and several across the UK.
A brief glimpse into Tricky as I'm getting ready to start writing Book 3 tomorrow for JuNoWriMo. The last Tricky piece was on Week 295.
The General Guidelines can be found here.
How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Redwood
“You showed us how to be, how to grow, howto stick together. You fed each other and built a community of sturdy solidwood. And even when you fell you showed us how to regenerate and build strongerand better.
“We haven’t yet managed to do that. Wealmost wiped ourselves out entirely and though we are growing back I am notsure it will be stronger or better. Again it begins: the manipulation, thefighting, the greed. An endless cycle of ‘mine is better than yours’, and ‘Iwant what you have so I will take it’.
“We haven’t learned from you – most of usat least. We haven’t understood the way to just be and exist. We always wantmore; always believe there should be more; that we have a right to have more.We’re a dissatisfied species.”
Tricky sat on the fallen Red talking to it,and admired its offspring which had grown tall, and majestic. She wished humanswould understand how much it mattered to the continuance of their species tolearn those lessons. But sadly the few had to always ruin it for the many.
She heard the flock fidget in the branchesabove and glanced up. Merlin alighted on one of the lower branches. He squawkedat her and she understood his warning, packing up the tiny lunch of nuts andseeds and tucking it into her pocket.
It was time to move on; they were trackingher and Merlin clearly thought they were too close for comfort. But she wasn’tfar now. Though she didn’t know these trees personally, she knew which specieslived where, and from here it wasn’t much further until she would hit theriver, Blood River as it was called. She shuddered at the meaning behind thename.
She just needed to get across it and shewas home and dry – so to speak. Then she had to face the next tricky situation.But Tricky knew tricky and it wasn’t half as tricky as what she had just beenthrough. So she quickly dusted off her skirts and go moving.
May 25, 2023
Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 296
This week's picture prompt was created by Gatto Mezzioviaggio. I don't know much about them as they only have an Instagram account with no links. But it says in their bio: 'AI Post-photographies / synthography of Mezzoviaggio cat. "Mezzoviaggio" is the (spurious) Italian translation of Midjourney.'
A darkish tale of demons.
The General Guidelines can be found here.
How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Invasion
She jerked awake,her body covered in sweat. It was them; they were coming. The recurrence of thedreams had escalated and it wouldn’t be long now.
Tabitha jumped out of bed and ran to thewindow of her little cottage. The grey muted light of pre-dawn pressed upagainst the windows. There was a low fog on the ground which wasn’t unusual asthe village was low-lying where three river’s met.
Despite its abundance in fertile land, thisplace had an energy that repelled a lot of folk. But it didn’t repel Tabitha;it was why she was here.
She hoped her plan would be enough againstthese demons. They were dark and intent, and they wanted her gone.
She moved round the house, casting herwards with utterances and arm waves. She hoped they would help to keep themout.
There were two pots on the stove that wereon a constant simmer. She lifted the lid on one and sniffed. They were almostready.
She returned to her bedroom and dressedswiftly, choosing grey rather than black – easier to disappear in the gloom. Shepeered out of the window again. Nothing looked different, but she could feelthem coming.
Back in the kitchen, she quickly tipped abit of the liquid into a cup from the left pot, the one that was now ‘cooked’, andsipped on it. She took it with her as she moved round the house repeating thewards while she lit a fire in the hearth in the lounge.
Then she went back into the kitchen andpoured a little out of the right pot into a saucer and placed it on the floor.Everything was set.
She went to the front door and wrapped hergrey shawl round her shoulders and left the house.
Tabitha walked through the sleeping villageout into the woods beyond and then up a hill, where at the top a huge uprightstone stood. It hadn’t been crafted, she’d brought it here when she firstarrived. It was taller than her but she had ways of moving things which didn’texert her.
She placed a hand on it and felt the linescrossing, pushing back at her. She also felt their presence; they were movingin, slowly, and heading straight for her cottage. She slid down the stone andslumped onto her knees as the tincture began to take effect. It made her twitchand tremble for a few minutes. She closed her eyes and let it take hold.
Once it had, she got up and ran with allthe speed she could muster back to the cottage, but rather than go in she waitedon the front porch.
Dawn was approaching but all it did wasmake the fog glow and swirl. The birds were not yet awake, so the only sounds thatreached her came from the demons as they travelled ever faster over the landtowards her. The hissing growing louder the closer they came. They were momentsfrom her door now.
She stood up and walked tentatively to hergarden wall, listening, then jumped up and perched on it.
She could see them, in the distance bobbingalong, their heads just above the mist. Their yellow eyes glistened in the halflight. She resisted the urge to jump down and greet them.
There were nine of them and she was onlyone.
Their arrival was like a swarm and theycovered the grounds of the house sniffing and licking and looking. Then theyclimbed, jumping up onto the roof and doing the same there. The fire in thehearth blocking their exit in via the chimney.
There was no way in, Tabitha knew that. Shewaited on the wall. They hadn’t notice or sensed her. She was pleased her planhad worked. She’d thought they were more astute, but a demon with a focusedpurpose missed the obvious. They were expecting to find her as herself, not asone of them – a black cat.
They sat around the cottage for some time.She basked on the wall watching the sun rise keeping her eye on them. Shewondered how long they would stay.
Then one ear pricked up and then anotherturned its head and as one they were on the move again, back the way they came.
She watched from her place up on the wallas they disappeared down the road. She saw them turn, going up the hill. She jumpeddown and followed, keeping her distance.
She tracked them up to her stone where shefound them circling it like some kind of collective madness had possessed them –and maybe it had.
They moved faster and faster until theylooked like a black rotating circle. Tabitha had to look away, it made her eyeshurt to try to watch.
Then a lightning bolt shot up out of thetop of the stone and they vanished.
Tabitha waited a few minutes, but all wasquiet. She walked to the stone and sniffed round it. Nothing. They had gone.The stone had taken them. Her work was done.
She padded home and jumped up at the handleof the front door – something they hadn’t thought to do thanks to her wards –and let herself in. And once she had consumed some of the fluid in the saucerher human form returned.
She stoked the fire and sat down by it. Divertingdemons wasn’t an easy job but someone had to protect this place.