There was no point wishing I was somewhere different. The reality was I was stuck in a place I barely knew, miles from anywhere and with no way of leaving.

I had a choice. I could either stay here, wishing I could pass an invisible barrier or I could head back into Llyncroft. At least I knew I'd be able to get food, or I hoped I could, as Marcus had driven off with my money. Fortunately, my phone was in my pocket. There was somewhere where I could stay even if there was a dead body there, and I would have time to get there as it was only around lunch time now.

I got myself to my feet and started back down the cliff road Marcus had driven me along just half an hour ago. I was wearing the wrong shoes whilst I didn't mind walking, but still walking any distance in stilettos is a rubbish plan.

I'd worn my best shoes because I wanted to make the right impression, because I'd wanted to look like some kind of businesswoman when I arrived at Willow Grove. Unfortunately, that image was now completely destroyed. Someone experienced with control would have handled today much better than me.

I wondered how long the walk back to town would take. I chastised myself as I hadn't paid attention to how long we'd been on the road before the car broke down. The single road into Llyncroft reduced the risk of getting lost. Although, given my success rate today, I wasn't so sure.

After I'd been walking for 20 minutes, my feet were hurting and I was sure I was developing some stunning blisters, the village came into view down below me. At least everything was downhill into the village, but I still had to walk back up to Willow Grove. Maybe my luck was changing because at least I was sure of where I was going now.

The sound of an engine coming up from behind surprised me. A deep, bottle green box truck was heading my way. They'd clearly come in through whatever the barrier was, so they obviously belonged here. Unlike me.

The van drew to a stop beside me and the window rolled down, framing a kind face with sandy hair and a rugged face.

"Can I help you?" he asked. "I guess you're heading into town?"

"I am," I agreed. "Could I get a lift off you, up to the inn on the top of the cliff?"

"Of course," he said, leaning over to open the door. I climbed in and settled into the cab of his van. It felt so good to have the weight off my feet and sit down.

"We don't often get visitors here," he said. "By the way, I'm Gideon. It's nice to meet you."

"You too, I'm Evie," I said. "I just inherited May's old place on the clifftops."

"I know the place well. I guess that's where you want to go."

I thought about his offer, suddenly becoming aware I was a female in a stranger's car in a place I didn't know and no one knew me. But I was already in the car, so it made no difference. If I was in danger, he already had the opportunity.

"I'd really like that, thank you," I said, making up my mind.

"I was so sorry to hear about May passing," said Gideon. "It was a real shock to us and a really nasty way for anyone to go."

"What do you mean?" I asked. "I thought she just died in a car accident."

"Yes, it was a car accident," he said hesitantly, returning his attention back to the road. What wasn't he telling me? I got the sense there was something more he wanted to say, but he was choosing not to.

"So what do you do?" I asked, trying to think of something to change the subject. "What brings you out this way?"

"I'm a blacksmith. I was delivering some wrought iron fencing I'd made, a custom order."

"Wow, that sounds amazing. I've only seen videos of how things like that are made on YouTube. What's the favourite thing that you make? It must be amazing to see other people enjoy the things you've made yourself," I said, rambling.

Gideon paused. "It's the practical stuff that brings in the money, but I love making knives and swords. My reputation is for iron fencing, but I enjoy the creativity of making Damascus blade knives."

"What's that?" I asked.

"I forge different grades of steel together in a controlled way, which creates a pattern on the blade. Each knife is unique and you never know exactly what you're going to get. The blade's strength lies in the number of folds and layers do the more decoration the stronger the blade. I think they are one of the most beautiful things that you could ever make."

"Wow, that sounds amazing. How long does it take to do that?"

"It can take up to three months to make a single blade."

"That's incredible. Is there a market for that sort of thing?"

"I've just received a commission for a hundred thousand pounds. It will keep me going for a long time."

"No way, are you serious?" Wow, that's incredible. I'd love to come down and see what you do and how you do it.

"It would be my pleasure for you to visit. May was always wonderful to me. It would be like having a little piece of her around."

"I guess it's easy to feel like an outsider in a village where everybody knows each other," I said. "When I found out I'd inherited Willow Grove, being an outsider was the thing I worried about."

"You'll always be May's granddaughter," Gideon said. "That will always give you a place in this village. Everyone loved her."

It was amazing how quickly we ended up back at Willow Grove. My heart sunk when I realised the police were still present.

I got down out of the van. "Thank you so much for the lift," I said, waving as I watched Gideon leave.

Captain Wolfheart welcomed me as I got out of the van. "I'm glad to see you're back safely. It must have been hard to find out you could not leave Llyncroft. I'm sorry. I was just about to send my deputy out to look for you."

"How did you know I couldn't leave?"

"They created the wards to prevent folks from leaving Llyncroft for a year," he said, walking me up the garden path to the front door.

Agnes's eyes met mine as she approached. "Evie, dear, you're on your own? Where's Marcus?" Her voice filled with concern.

"Captain, if you don't mind," Agnes said respectfully. "I'd like to take Evie back to my place. She's had quite the shock and could do with a bit of comfort."

The captain turned to us, his expression unreadable for a moment before giving a brief nod. "Of course, Agnes. Make sure she gets some rest."

Agnes wrapped her arm around my shoulder and led me away from the chaos of flashing blue lights and hushed conversations. "Let's get you somewhere warm," Agnes said, guiding me towards her cottage.

Agnes's cottage had stone walls, covered in ivy, which seemed to hold secrets and old remedies. We walked along the cobbled path, her hand remained on my shoulder. "You're shaking, dear," Agnes said, tutting like a mother hen. "Shock can do that to you, but I get the sense you're injured"

I had almost forgotten about the damage to my knuckles. "It's nothing, just a scratch."

Agnes stopped and took my hand in hers. "Let me see."

Before I could object, her fingers were tracing the line of the injury. Her touch felt warm and seeped into my bones.

I gasped as I watched the wound close up where her fingers touched mine.

***

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