"What's so special about this place, apart from it being beautiful and old?"

Gethin turned to me, his blue eyes intense. "It's not just land or a view. You know that, you know about the arcanite. That's what we thought they were after. May thought that Willow Grove was a sort of crossroads, a nexus, full of energy. I didn't understand it all, but she believed it. If she thought it, then I knew there was some truth in it, even if I didn't understand."

"So, you think whoever did this," I gestured back to the door with the red 'LEAVE', "is the same person who wanted Gran to sell up or somehow harmed her?"

"It's possible," Gethin said, rubbing his jaw. "We couldn't prove anything back then. And without proof, it's just guesswork."

I scowled. "And now? With all this, the graffiti, the threats, can we prove it now?"

"This is about more than just the house. It's about you and what May cared about. I also think there's power in the land and a duty to protect it."

I was scared. "You'll help me?"

"Of course," he said. "I promised May I would."

Agnes's touch on my arm brought me back to the present. "You have to understand, Evie. May knew what she was doing. She was more connected to this land than anyone realised. Her death wasn't just an accident, it was part of a path she'd chosen a long time ago."

I looked into her eyes. "And what about me? Was I just part of her plan? Am I here to, I don't know, solve the mysteries of Willow Grove? You make it sound like some cheesy daytime movie."

Agnes squeezed my hand. "You are part of it, but not just as a pawn, Evie. You're here because you have the strength and connection to this place that we need now more than ever."

Gethin shifted, looking conflicted. He looked out towards the sea before deciding to speak. "May and I, we talked a lot about the future of Llyncroft and Willow Grove. She never doubted you could take this on, but knew you needed to stay long enough to understand what it means to be an earth elemental." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "May worked with the local coven before she died. She reinforced the Boundary around Llyncroft."

I looked at Agnes, astounded, "Gethin is right. She made it so you couldn't leave for a year."

I felt my heart race. "She trapped me here?" I blurted out.

"Not trapped," Agnes said. "Protected. So you have time to find your power and solve the mysteries, with no one from the outside interfering."

Gethin nodded. "She knew it was a big ask. But she believed in you. That you could do it and that you could find the truth."

I sat between them, taking in their words. My Gran had set my path without my knowledge, without my consent.

How dare she!

I stood up and pushed my chair back. It made a loud noise as the legs scraped on the floor, breaking the tense silence. My chest felt tight, my mind whirling with a mix of betrayal and confusion. Gethin reached out, his hand hovering near my arm as if he could pull me back from the edge of whatever precipice he thought I was on.

"Evie, please," he said. "Let's talk about this."

I shook my head and moved away from his touch. "I need some air," I said. "I can't be here, sitting and drinking tea while my world is falling apart."

Agnes put a hand on Gethin's arm. "Let her go, Gethin. She needs some space."

He hesitated, then dropped his hand and nodded.

I didn't wait, turning on my heel, leaving Willow Grove, letting the door slam shut behind me.

The familiar route into town did nothing to stop my head spinning. Where was my refuge? Every tree and stone held ancient stories, but now those stories felt like accusations rather than a warm hug.

I tried to remember what I'd been taught about mindful walking to calm myself. Deep breathing, being in the moment, grounding myself, but it was like trying to catch water. I was angry. Angry at Gran for setting up this whole thing without thinking about what I wanted, angry at myself for not seeing it.

I walked faster, past the rows of cottages with their neat hedges and pretty gardens. The villagers looked at me as I walked by, taking in the tension in my shoulders and the set of my jaw.

I headed to the market square. People were milling around, enjoying the sunshine and the bustle of the market. I wanted to shout at them for believing Maeve's lies about me.

I said nothing. I couldn't.

I found an empty stone bench by the fountain and sat down hard. The stone felt cold through my clothes. I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of the water splashing. I tried to let it wash over me and calm the anger that was burning inside me.

The water in the fountain danced and sparkled in the sunlight. I wanted to scream at whoever would listen to me that nothing was as it seemed. I felt as if a veil had been wrenched from my eyes.

But I said nothing.

The ground beneath me rumbled. It was so faint, most people wouldn't notice it. But I did.

I was angry, not just at Gran and the village and its secrets, but at myself for getting angry, for feeling anything.

The voices in the square rose. I looked up. People were staring at me. People were pointing. "It's her," I heard someone say. A lady clutching a shopping basket looked at me. "She's causing it."

The square shook again. This time it was stronger, shaking the market stalls and making the cups on the tables of the nearby café rattle. I stood up. I clenched my fists.

"It's not me," I wanted to yell at them.

The voices were getting louder and more accusatory. "Look how angry she is," said a man in a tweed cap, staring at me.

"She's upset the balance," said the old lady from behind her stall of handmade jewellery. "She doesn't belong here."

Their words felt like thorns against my skin. I could feel my anger rising. I could feel the ground respond.

The panic in their voices was clear as their stalls swayed and goods tumbled to the cobbles.

They were right to be frightened.

I was frightened.

I stood there, my fury a living thing. Aware the tremors echoed my inner tumult. The fountain's water splashed harder with each shake, mirroring my emotions.

The tide curious of whispers ground me where mindfulness techniques had failed. It was like flipping a switch.

If I had found a connection to the earth, I could be the one doing this. How was it all linked? How strong was this connection?

Was I really making the ground shake with my anger? It was terrifying and fascinating.

I focused on my curiosity. The more I thought about the relationship between my emotions and the land's reaction, the less angry I felt. Acknowledging the weird connection calmed. Helping me to control my anger.

As my curiosity grew, my anger receded, and with it, the shaking stopped. The stalls stopped rattling. The cups stopped clinking. The market square was quiet.

I took a deep breath and let it out. I could feel the tension leaving my body with each exhale. My hands unclenched and I let my shoulders drop.

Now there was just silence. Not just around me, but within me. The shaking had stopped.

With the earth's tremors under control, I felt empty. I looked around the market square. The villagers still looked wary, and I knew I needed to find some answers before their fear turned into something worse.

Agnes was my guide in this strange new world, but I didn't want to talk to her just now. There was only one other person who might help me understand Gran's plans.

I headed through the village streets to "The Enchanted Oak." The pub's blackened timber frame and glowing windows seemed to call me closer, promising secrets within its ancient walls.

Cedric had been part of Llyncroft for as long as anyone could remember. If Gran had confided in anyone, it was him. Or maybe, with his heightened senses, he might have overheard something important.

I pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside. The smell of mulled cider and roasting chestnuts was like a warm hug. Cedric was behind the bar, his shock of red hair unmistakable in the gloom. He met my gaze with his green eyes.

"Evie Hartwell," he said. "What brings you to my humble establishment today? I felt your anger."

I paused, taking in the familiar surroundings of "The Enchanted Oak."

"I need your help, Cedric," I said. "It's about Gran, May Hartwell."

His expression changed imperceptibly. "I wondered when you would seek me out."