Traveler, Cleric, Witch. The villagers in the sleepy hamlet of Lychford are divided. A supermarket wants to build a major branch on their border. Some welcome the employment opportunities, while some object to the modernization of the local environment. Judith Mawson (local crank) knows the truth -- that Lychford lies on the boundary between two worlds, and that the destruction of the border will open wide the gateways to malevolent beings beyond imagination. But if she is to have her voice heard, she's going to need the assistance of some unlikely allies... PRAISE FOR Paul Cornell's THE WITCHES OF LYCHFORD "At once epic and terribly intimate. This is the story of a village, not a city, and all the more powerful for that; not all big fantasy needs an urban setting. Beautifully written, perfectly cruel, and ultimately kind. This is Cornell at the height of his craft." ― Seanan McGuire, New York Times bestselling author of the InCryptid and October Daye series "Rich in charm... local politics and witchcraft writ small and personal, but large in consequence. [Cornell] adeptly describes the emotion of magic; its effects and internal ignition of wonder. The feel of being exposed to magic for the first time and the feel of doing magic and having it done to you have never been better described in any story." ― Bill Willingham, author of Fables and Down the Mysterly River "Masterfully creepy and sinister, all the more so for taking place in the beautifully drawn English countryside." ― Jenny Colgan, author of Doctor Who: Into the Nowhere “Refreshing and suspenseful, this novella is an inventive look at the idea of magic lurking just beyond one's reach. ” ― Publishers Weekly "The deftness with which Cornell permits us to glimpse their backstories gives Witches of Lychford the feel of a much longer novel... [we get some] satisfying glimpses of those fireworks, along with a few ghosts and genuinely scary apparitions." ― Locus “Every detail in this novella is interesting and authentic.The novella is a beautiful gem that has more depth than many a novel, while being entertaining, fun and well-paced. It's not a word too long, not a word too short: it's practically perfect in every way.” ― Bastian's Book Reviews Paul Cornell has written episodes of Elementary , Doctor Who, Primeval , Robin Hood and many other TV series. He has worked for every major comics company on series such as I Walk With Monsters , The Modern Frankenstein , Saucer Country, and This Damned Band, as well as runs for Marvel and DC on Batman and Robin , Wolverine and Young Avengers . He is based in the UK. Witches of Lychford By Paul Cornell, Lee Harris Tom Doherty Associates Copyright © 2015 Paul Cornell All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-0-7653-8523-9 CHAPTER 1 Judith Mawson was seventy-one years old, and she knew what people said about her: that she was bitter about nothing in particular, angry all the time, that the old cow only ever listened when she wanted to. She didn't give a damn. She had a list of what she didn't like, and almost everything — and everybody — in Lychford was on it. She didn't like the dark, which was why she bit the bullet on her energy bills and kept the upstairs lights on at home all night. Well, that was one of the reasons. She didn't like the cold, but couldn't afford to do the same with the heating, so she walked outside a lot. Again, that was only one of the reasons. At this moment, as she trudged through the dark streets of the little Cotswolds market town, heading home from the quiz and curry night at the town hall at which she had been, as always, a team of one, her hands buried in the pockets of her inappropriate silver anorak, she was muttering under her breath about how she'd get an earful from Arthur for being more than ten minutes late, about how her foot had started hurting again for no reason. The words gave her the illusion of company as she pushed herself along on her walking stick, past the light and laughter of the two remaining pubs on the Market Place, to begin the slow trudge uphill on the street of charity shops, towards her home in the Rookeries. She missed the normal businesses: the butcher and the greengrocer and the baker. She'd known people who'd tried to open shops here in the last ten years. They'd had that hopeful smell about them, the one that invited punishment. She hadn't cared enough about any of them to warn them. She was never sure about calling anyone a friend. None of the businesses had lasted six months. That was the way in all the small towns these days. Judith hated nostalgia. It was just the waiting room for death. She of all people needed reasons to keep going. However, in the last few years she'd started to feel things really were getting worse. With the endless recession, "austerity" as those wankers called it, a darkness had set in. The new estates built to the north — the Backs, they had come to be called — were needed, people had to