He was startled when Shilshally McGuire crept up behind him. Hissing in his ears she whispered, “Do not be thinking that I have any care fer ye … it’s me own hide I be thinkin’ about …” and she paused. Penor McDermott was surprised, she was untying his hands. She continued, “ …The witch will need a human sacrifice for her spell to work … and ye will not be it.”
As Shilshally continued untying his bound hands, Penor asked, “What’s she trying to do …?”
“Mingling the blood of Pan with yours … she will assume the Satyr’s power. Then she will kill all her rivals … and that be me … and what be left of the Satyr.”
Penor was free of his bonds … he glanced first at the two combatants, Pan and the witch Millicent, grappling and rolling across the hay-covered floor. Then he looked into Shilshally McGuire’s face, no longer displaying the matronly mien he first encountered. Her facial expression was now covered with malevolence. Penor realized that was what witchcraft was … deception hidden beneath the guise of purity.
Penor did not hesitate but ran outside the stable and into the misting rain and dense fog. He could not see in the gloom and stumbled and fell into the mire several times. Penor was trying to put as much distance between him and the evil he left behind in the stable and hoping he was not running in circles. Suddenly the ground beneath his feet vanished and he tumbled down a steep bank and into the river.