Nearly seventy years ago, I travelled east to west to guard the great pine tree at Loch Ewes. Every Sunday I row to the island in the middle of the loch and splash a drop of ale under its branches, for the tree’s fate is linked to the fate of my family. Where the Ewes Pine stands tall, no Loughty shall fall.
Read MoreOn Christmas E’en, Fleagrave took the royal pack of wulvers carolling. She rode a shaggy, squat pony because mortals are too big for empty hazelnuts. (As are wulvers, but being in their wolf form, transport posed no issue for them).
Read MoreIt is well documented that fairies steal human babies. Occasionally they abduct grown men and women to become consorts, midwives or servants in their stoor-filled castles. Less well-known, however, is the story of Finella, who kidnapped cats…
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