Page 11 of The Changeling

As we came down into the valley, fog began to roll in, obscuring the stars.

‘Keep close, my lambkins,’ Mam said uneasily.

The mist broke over us and the world vanished. When I lifted my neep lantern, I could not see my hand. Only the dim faltering light glowing through the jagged eyes and grinning mouth of the turnip.

A faint strain of tantalising music. I had never heard anything so beautiful. I turned my head, listening hard.

Rue, Rue, where are you? Come out, come out, wherever you are.

I felt as if a string had been tied to my heart and someone tugged the other end. I could feel the jerk in my chest. I had to step towards the person yanking on the string; it hurt not to.

‘Where are you going?’ Sorcha whispered. ‘Dinna wander off the path, Caiti, you’ll get lost.’

I hardly heard her. The music was luring me on, pulling me like the words whispered on the icy wind. Mist coiled about me, sliding a cold finger down my bare throat, breathing on the sensitive nape of my neck. Rue … come …

It was impossible to disobey. Following the eerie music, I scrambled on all fours up a steep slope, through nettles and bracken, over mossy roots and great boulders. Behind me, Sorcha called my name anxiously, then shouted for Mam and Nan, but their voices sounded very faint and far away. A thread of silvery light shone through the trees. The witch, a shadow among shadows, held a reel of light in her hand, winding in the thread hooked in my heart. The glow showed her great mass of black hair and her thin white face, hollowed under high cheekbones. She wore a crown of tangled twigs. A faint thread connected me to the star in her hand. She began to chant strange, frightening words:

The seventh daughter of a seventh daughter

is the only one who can stop the slaughter

only she can break the curse and pay the price

but first she must know laughter, love, and sorrow

once, twice, thrice, must die a willing sacrifice

once by blade, once by fire, once by water

blood on the throne at the year’s dark cross-quarter

Words like a song or a spell. Chills ran over my whole body. I wrapped my arms about myself.

The witch stood in the narrow mouth of a cave, half-hidden behind two elder trees that interlaced their bare branches like the arch of a gateway. Trying to see better, I lifted my neep lantern. Behind her head, impaled on stakes, a row of skulls. I recoiled in terror and scrambled backwards, hiding behind a hazel tree.

The woman searched through the wood for me, the starry light she carried reaching closer and closer. ‘Where are you, Rue?’

The light touched the toe of my boot. Another step, another second, and she would see me.

An owl hooted somewhere close. I looked up, remembering how I had gone into the bee. I lifted myself out of my body, then remembered the lesson of the bees. Owl, may I ride with thee?

A whoosh of soft wings above my head, a hum of warm energy. Soar-hooh, the owl called. Somehow I made the leap. A disorientating shift of my senses. Suddenly the world was not shrouded in darkness – I could see clearly. The woman stood far below, looking all about her, rolling the silvery thread around her reel, only to see the broken end floating towards her. ‘Rue!’ she screamed.

The owl floated higher. I could see the woman no longer. Below, the dark forest. Above, the stars. I beat my wings strongly, tilting and swerving and swooping, amazed at the way the wind bent and submitted to me. Higher and higher I flew, till the stars seemed closer than the earth. I looked down. I was lost. I did not know where I was. I did not know who I was. Girl or owl? Owl or girl? Terror hooked claws in my soul. I flung myself free, tumbled over and over into nothingness.

Far below, the tiny golden glow of a lantern lifted high. Nan called, ‘Caiti! Can you hear me, hinny? Where are you?’

No magical compulsion here, no painful tug. Just my great- aunt’s familiar loving voice. I fell down into my own body, and opened my eyes to see her bending over me. ‘Come, my wee lassie, did you wander off and fall asleep? Lucky I found you – you’d have been frozen stiff by morning. Up, then, and let’s get you home to bed.’

Together we slowly limped back to the cottage, my teeth rattling with the cold. Mam wrapped me in blankets and warmed me some milk, while I told them about the witch.

‘Do you think …’ Mam’s voice was frightened.

‘I think we need to be more careful,’ Nan said firmly. ‘Caiti, where is your rowan necklace?’

‘I threw it away,’ I admitted.

Mam knelt beside me. ‘Caiti, you must never, ever do that.’