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The Pool of Two Moons
Book Two of The Witches of Eileanan

KATE FORSYTH
A ROC BOOK



For my dearest mother, Gillian Mackenzie Evans


A witch or a hag is she which being deluded by a league made with the devel through his
persuasion, inspiration, and juggling, thinketh she can design what manner of evil things soever,
either by thought or imprecation, as to shake the air with lightnings and thunder, to cause hail
and tempests, to remove green corn or trees to another place, to be carried of her familiar (which
hath taken upon him the deceitful shape of a goat, swine or calf) into some mountain far distant,
in a wonderful short space of time.

William West, sixteenth-century English lawyer



The Hunchback



It was the darkest hour of the night, when the pulse runs slowest and the tides of energy are at their ebb,
that the three travelers left the woods. They went warily, their heads turning from side to side as they
scanned the shadowed landscape. Although it was a clear night and the snowy peaks of the Sithiche
Mountains shone faintly in the light of the two moons, the valley below was filled with mist so that their
travelers' path sank into a mysterious whiteness.

"Can ye sense anyone ahead, auld mother?" Iseult asked.

"No' on the path, Iseult, though the inn seems quite busy. Let us push on—we can stop and rest soon
enough."

"So ye've been saying all week!" Bacaiche snapped, leaning heavily on his rough club. "I'm sick o'
stumbling around every night and hiding all day like a frightened hare! When are we going to do
something useful?"

The old woman turned and looked up at him. "Come, Bacaiche, ye'll be glad we pushed on when a plate
o' hot stew is slapped in front o' ye. Ye've been complaining o' hunger long enough."

"Considering all we've eaten these last few days is shriveled carrot soup!"