Free Witch Silver by Anne Forbes

where Merial’s father lives,” the MacArthur said slowly.
    “Then, that means that Merial’s father, this Lord Jezail, has sent Herr von Grozny to find the talisman!” Neil said in quick understanding.
    “From what you’ve told me about him, I rather think his real name is Count Vassili Onegin,” the MacArthur said.
    “That figures,” Jaikie nodded in agreement and then, seeing their puzzled expressions, added, “he’s Lord Jezail’s right-hand man.”
    The MacArthur continued. “You see, I always thought that Lord Jezail would want the talisman back when Merial died. He’s too old to search the countryside for it himself so he’s sent Count Vassili instead.”
    “And what if he finds it,” the Ranger asked, “or the witches?”
    “We need to make sure they don’t,” the MacArthur said, hisface serious. “Merial left the talisman to Clara and it is most important that
she
is the one to find it.”
    “Yeah,” agreed Jaikie, “you’ve no idea what the witches would get up to if they got hold of it! There would be storms, floods, famine and goodness knows what else. And knowing the Snow Witches — well, personally, I wouldn’t put it past them to start another
Ice
Age
!”
    Mrs MacLean took Clara’s hands in hers. “
I
think the talisman should go back to Murial’s father … this Lord Jezail,” she urged. “After all, you’re not a magic person, Clara.”
    It was on the tip of Clara’s tongue to agree with her mother but to her surprise as much as everyone else’s, she found herself shaking her head. “No way, Mum,” she answered firmly. “Auntie Muriel wanted
me
to have the talisman and I’m going to find it and use it as she knew I would.”
    “Well said,” the MacArthur smiled and nodded but only Jaikie noticed that his eyes were, nevertheless, doubtful.
    “And now,” Neil said, having the last word, “all we have to do is find the answer to the riddle!”

12. Snowmen
    The car accelerated swiftly as they left Edinburgh and headed south.
    “There doesn’t seem to be much traffic today, does there?” Neil remarked as his father swung out to overtake a huge trailer. An empty road stretched ahead, winding picturesquely between woods, trees and fields.
    “Mmm. If it’s like this all the way, we’ll have an easy journey,” his father replied.
    “Perhaps we could stop at Carfrae Mill and have a bite of lunch,” Mrs MacLean suggested. “It’s roughly halfway to Craiglaw and it’ll give you a break from driving, John.”
    “Great,” said Neil, who knew it as a familiar landmark.
    “The countryside’s changing already, isn’t it?” Clara remarked, noticing that the golden fields of waving wheat had disappeared to be replaced by ploughed fields.
    “Winter’s on its way,” her father smiled.
    “This is the bit of the journey I like best,” Neil said, leaning forward excitedly as they climbed the steep slope towards Soutra Hill and the stretch of moor that held an enormous wind farm. There was a stiff breeze blowing and the blades were swirling fast.
    “
I
think they’re beautiful,” Mrs MacLean said, peering over the moorland at the enormous pylons, “but a lot of people think they spoil the look of the countryside.”
    It wasn’t long after they’d crossed Soutra that the car pulled into the car park of Carfrae Mill. Shivering in the chill wind, they hurried into the welcoming warmth of the hotel loungeand settled by the leaping flames of a log fire. Clara held her hands out to the blaze and when her mother mentioned lentil soup, she nodded her head. It was definitely soup weather!
    “It’s a lot colder here than it was in Edinburgh,” Neil complained, kneeling close to the hearth.
    “We don’t usually light the fire in the mornings,” the waitress said, overhearing him as she laid out the place settings, “but the weather’s been that cold lately. They’ve had snow on the moors above Greenlaw. In October!” she added, shaking her head at the