July 25, Thursday

WHEN I arrived at the cemetery gate the next morning, the old woman Muriel was once again waiting with her foraging bag and her walking stick. She gave me a toothless smile as I inserted the key into the padlock.

"Do you lock the gate to keep humans out, or to keep the spirits in?"

Her nonsensical question reminded me of the kooky tour guide. Instead of responding, I decided to change the subject. "Do you have anything in your bag to kill a goat?"

She cackled. "No. Goats are good, they eat trash."

Everyone was a critic. I swung the gate open. "Have a nice day."

"I hear the witches are back," she said.

I sighed. "Okay, I'll play along. Why are they back?"

"To choose a new leader. Their rose in bloom is gone."

I shrugged. "That has nothing to do with me."

"They will need a sacrifice."

A chill went up my back, then I frowned. "You're trying to scare me."

"And are you scared, Missy?"

"No," I retorted, then turned to walk away.

"You better keep locking that gate," she called after me.

I kept walking… still scanning for snakes, of course.