For Da believed that water threatened not just their skin but their souls. And on Samhain night especially so. They might find the midnight washerwomen, their long spindly hands rinsing the shrouds for those who’d die on the morrow. Or else be set upon by an each-uisce; the shapeshifter who lurks at the water’s edge, disguised as a horse, ready to drown those who dare to mount it.
