Book 3. Chapter 1

The Tenth Century

Young Lucinda awoke in a state of profound isolation. Her headache was unbearable, and her body ached in all the wrong places. She was in agony. Her initial realisation was that she was heaving, despite the fact that she was lying face down in the mud. The other young witches and she had had a few wild nights of new potions last night, but nothing like this had happened to her before.

When the twinges of her vomiting subsided, she fell on her side, sloping, her chest heaving as her lungs sucked in air from the shrouding environment. Slowly but steadily, she began to become aware of her surroundings. She had found a secluded spot in the forest that was peaceful. The silence was deafening, and a warm rain was dropping on her bare skin. She was aware of minor disturbances caused by insects whirling around her head. However, forest flies were drawn to her by the aroma of her odour and, in particular, the vomit, and they settled on her. The