Page 92 of The Changeling

‘I am the local magistrate, and we are on my land. The Regent told us that the witchcraft commission authorised us to prosecute witches without need for a crown trial. If you do not approve, Graham, I suggest you write to the Regent. Now get out of my way.’ He began to drag Mam towards the tall standing stone, as his men ran to gather wood. They were frightened of him now, and dared not disobey.

They reached the standing stone. He threw Mam down. She gasped in pain.

Lord George went down on one knee beside her. ‘Mistress Caitlín … are you hurt?’

She laughed wildly.

He looked up at Lord Patrick. ‘You do wrong here. I am sure the earl of Moray … the Regent … he cannot sanction this.’

Lord Patrick put his boot on Mam, and rocked her from side to side. She screamed.

‘You are mistaken, my lord. This is exactly what the Regent wished me to do. Did you not hear what he said? He wanted rid of Caitlín NicNeven. I do not know why, but she had displeased him somehow. Probably he wanted her, and she said nay. She was a cold bitch that way. Regent Moray rules now, and we would be wise to do his will.’

Lord George shook his head. ‘Nay! I will call the sheriff. This is wrong.’

‘Do not forget your son, who lay with the witch’s spawn and swore he’d wed no other,’ Lord Patrick said. ‘Everyone knows he tried to save her. We all saw him gallop away with her. Is that not treason? When the Regent told us to seize her? The Regent is not forgiving of treason.’

Lord George whitened. He stood up, unsteady on his feet. Mam looked up at him and said hoarsely, ‘I thank you and bless you, my lord, for doing your best to save me.’ She lifted the long red cord that hung about her neck, and bit off the glowing blue glass bead that hung there. She spat the charm-stone into her cupped hands, and held it out to him. His hand shook visibly as he took it.

‘As long as the stone remains at Inchbrakie, your heirs will live in peace and prosperity,’ Mam told him.

Then she pointed at her tormentor. ‘But you, Lord Patrick Scott of Monzie, I curse! Your fortunes shall go from bad to worse, your bloodline shall die with you, naught left but repentance and rue.’

At the final word, my heart gave a painful lurch and I cawed.

Mam smiled. Looking up at me, flying far above her in the sky, she called, ‘As long as the Shaggie runs crookit and bent, there’ll be a witch at Monzie and she’ll never be kent.’

I knew she meant me. I was the witch that would never be known.

Lord Patrick seized her throat in his hands and squeezed. I flapped about his head, shrieking and clawing at his eyes. He struck out wildly at me, and his fist connected with my small body. I tumbled away, and fell to the ground, winded and in pain. I tried to hop up, but my damaged claw gave way underneath me and I fell again. Dragging one wing, I tried to swoop at him, but could only stagger along the ground. Lord Patrick dragged Mam to the standing stone and bound her there, piling dead branches about her in a frenzy.

‘I cannot watch this.’ Lord George mounted his horse. ‘Rory, come! This is not a sight for your eyes. Let us go and see to your brother. Scott, I will make sure you pay!’

Lord Patrick just laughed and poured the last contents of his powder horn upon the bonfire, then took out his tinder and flint and struck a spark. I managed to fly up, but the tiny ember had fallen upon the gunpowder and it ignited at once, flames blazing up around Mam.

Desperately I tried to put out the flames with my wings. But the fire raged too hot. Mam screamed just once. I choked on the smoke and wheeled away, while below me the fire roared till all was consumed to ash.

All was bitter and dark. My sister and I, we did not sleep that night.

In my dreams, Nan came to me. She was dripping wet, her right thumb tied to her left toe. Water spread out from her torn clothes. Her silver hair floated about her head as if carried by invisible currents. She gazed at me with sorrowful blue eyes. Live well, hinny …

I knew then she too was dead, and that the faery queen’s prophecy had come true.

Once by fire

once by water

V

Corpse Cake

After Mam’s and Nan’s death, Sorcha and I were like lost souls. We kept ourselves hidden in the cave, creeping out only to seek food and firewood.

Sorcha stopped speaking. I thought it sadness, and did my best to comfort her. It was all my fault. I had brought this tragedy upon my family. I had known how dangerous the earl of Moray was; I had known he liked to work in secret. I should have been more careful, should have kept my expression blank and my eyes downturned so he could not read my knowledge of his treachery on my face.

Rage rose in me at the thought. That was what the Regent wanted: for women to be cowed and meek and submissive. I wished that I could stand before him, like an avenging fury, and point my finger at him and scream, ‘Murderer! Traitor! Burner of women!’

But if I did, I would die.