Gorse, Gorse

Cornwall, 1786. For years, the villagers of Mirecoombe have turned to their Keeper, the old and battle-scarred Lord Pelagius Hunt, mediator between the worlds of men and fey, for help. But this is a time of change. Belief in the old ways, in the piskies and spriggans, has dimmed, kindled instead in the Reverend Cleaver’s fiery pulpit. His church stands proud above the mire; God’s name is whispered, hushed, loved. And now, death stalks Mirecoombe on the moor. There are corpses in the heather. There is blood in the gorse. Who will be the one to bring Mirecoombe back from the brink of darkness?