Breathless, she bent over and rested her hands on her knees, her lungs burning as she inhaled great gasps of air. She always ran this last distance to the yew tree as hard as she could. It never failed to exhilarate her and clear her mind. She needed that more than ever tonight. She stood up, adjusting her black cap and checking to see that her thick braid was stuffed into her jacket. As she smeared powdery peat ash on her face, her gaze instinctively darted in the direction of the yew tree. The swirling fog had gathered so thickly here she could see only a few feet in front of her. Even the full moon was almost obscured from view, no more than a pale orb through the incandescent vapor. She wondered if the road to Inverfarigaig was buried in mist and fleetingly prayed it was not. Madeleine began to walk in what she believed was the right direction, allowing her instincts to guide her. She sensed it was near midnight. She had left Mhor Manor as she usually did, at quarter to eleven. Fortunately she hadn't encountered any obstacles that would have slowed her progress.
