Page 47 of Star Witch
‘We’re only borrowing it.’
She shook her head. ‘It has a small motor. And there are keys still in the engine. Whoever it belongs to, they’re probably coming back. They’re going to need it.’
Huh. I tilted my head and listened. There was no one else near here; if there had been, the producers would have already shooed them away. I glanced at the cameraman, whose lens was still trained on my face, and considered.
‘It’s a set-up.’
Lou squinted at me. ‘Pardon?’
‘We’re in the middle of nowhere. What are the chances that there just happens to be a boat right next to the river that leads us to a camp? And that there are keys in the engine?’ I shook my head. ‘It’s too convenient. They’re setting us up. The producers, I mean.’
‘Do you really think they’d do that?’
I rolled my eyes at her. This was ‘reality’ television. Of course they would.
‘If that’s the case, then we have to leave it.’
‘Nope.’ I grinned. ‘If that’s the case then we absolutely have to take it. They’re trying to make television. We need to give the viewers something to shout about.’
‘We can’t steal it!’
I patted her on the back. ‘I told you. We’re just borrowing it.’
‘But…’
‘Don’t worry, Lou. If anyone complains, I’ll take the blame. We can be home and dry in less than an hour if we do this.’
Well, not exactly home as such. But at least somewhere I could finally get some real rest. If there wasn’t a nice fluffy pillow at this campsite, heads were going to roll.
***
Our meandering amble was rather pleasant. I wouldn’t call it peaceful, since Harriet had begun to snore with such force that the entire structure of the little boat shuddered. The noise she made was akin to a twenty-decibel drill, and I was still irritated that both she and Mike were sleeping while I had to stay awake. All the same, there was immense satisfaction in being on our way and probably far ahead of the other two teams.
Lou remained a bit twitchy at my casual theft of the boat but when no police came screaming out of the woods to clap her in chains – and when the trailing cameramen didn’t stop us – she seemed to relax a little. Well, she trailed her hands in the cool water and leaned back, so she couldn’t have been feeling too edgy.
A small log cabin had just come into view, with a little flag in theEnchantmentcolours perched on top of its roof, when there was an odd rustling from the bank on our left. I swung my head around, expecting to see another otter or perhaps a bird. Instead what appeared from the undergrowth was a sheep.
It trotted along to the edge of the river and began chewing nonchalantly at a clump of grass. But this wasn’t a farmer’s field and there were no other sheep in sight. I couldn’t prevent myself from stiffening in alarm.
I grabbed hold of the rudder and steered the boat in. It was probably nothing, it was probably just a damn sheep. All the same…
Lou sat up. ‘What is it?’
‘Scottish wildlife,’ I said, with far more cheeriness than I felt.
She glanced over, spotted the sheep and laughed. Then she immediately sobered up. ‘You’re not going to kill it, are you?’
My worry was overtaken by confusion. ‘What? No! Of course not!’
Lou exhaled. ‘Oh, good. I thought that you might, you know, want it for dinner. Or something.’
I had no illusions about where my supermarket meat came from but that didn’t mean that I wanted it in anything other than a neatly packaged polystyrene packet with cooking instructions included. I was most definitely not in the business of slaughter. Too messy, for one thing. Although given that my stomach chose that moment to grumble rather loudly in between Harriet’s snores, I probably appeared prepared to chomp on the poor animal.
Instructing Lou to stay where she was with the others, I jumped out of the boat and walked slowly towards the sheep. It paused from its grassy meal and looked up at me. Then it returned to eating.
I scratched my head. I’d managed to communicate with the otter. I certainly had no problem when it came to talking to Brutus either, even if he did flatly ignore everything I said. How difficult could a sheep be?
I flicked my index finger, ready to draw the rune, but that first movement made me realise that I wouldn’t be able to manage it. Exhaustion was seeping into my bones and, rather than being sharp and fluid, even the start of the rune felt sluggish. I muttered a curse under my breath and stared at the sheep instead. It just kept on chewing.
