Page 100 of The Changeling

Somewhere, a clock struck midnight. Swiftly Robbie went down the steps, seeming not to notice the utter darkness. I groped my way after him, and followed him to the stables, where he bridled and saddled Apollo and led him out.

‘Robbie, wait!’ I called.

He did not wait. I caught up my skirts, ran and vaulted up behind him. And not a moment too soon. He spurred Apollo into a gallop and we raced away, under the portcullis and across the drawbridge, hooves thundering on the track that led to the Knock. Behind, labouring faithfully at our heels, Carlin did her best to keep up with us.

Above us, the great dome of stars. Ahead, the dark hump of the faery hill.

Soon we were cantering up the steep path I had trudged only a few hours earlier. The stallion did not ease its headlong pace, though branches bashed us on either side. I pressed my face against Robbie’s back, and clung to his waist. We came to the glade of hazel trees, their branches limned in silver. Robbie reined in his horse and I jumped down, my stick in one hand, so he could dismount.

He looped Apollo’s reins about a bough, wrenched a branch from the nearest hazel and rapped three times upon the rock.

‘Open, open, green hill, and let me in!’ he cried.

Striding forward, he stepped through the crack in the hill and disappeared. I stood, motionless, my breath coming in great white gasps. Carlin reached my side and leaned against me, panting and trembling.

Above the cleft in the rock was a row of six small skulls, impaled on stakes. They stared at me with hollow eyes. A gust of cold wind blew back my hair, lifted my skirts. Carlin crouched low, all the hairs raised along her spine, her body quivering in a low, unrelenting growl.

‘Are you my sisters?’ I asked them. ‘Did our mother murder you? Does she mean to murder me?’

Chillingly, I heard a chorus of ghostly whispers around me.

The seventh daughter of a seventh daughter

is the only one who can stop the slaughter

only you can break the curse and pay the price

Mist blew about me, stroking the nape of my neck. I felt the touch of a small cold hand on my wrist, where my blood pumped warm.

but first you must know laughter, love, and sorrow

I huffed a bitter laugh. ‘I have known sorrow, believe me.’

sorrow … sorrow …

The word echoed about me. Carlin growled still, one paw lifted, her gaze fixed on the strange formless shapes the mist made as it turned and spun. Ghosts of little girls, not permitted to live. I reached out a shaky hand and laid it on Carlin’s head. ‘And so much love and so much laughter,’ I said. ‘Indeed, I have been blessed.’

Once, twice, thrice, must die a willing sacrifice

‘They died willingly.’ I was so choked up I could scarcely force the words out. ‘And I will never be able to forgive myself.’

A tiny cold hand slipped into mine.

willing …

I nodded. ‘Aye. They loved me, even though I was no’ of their blood, no’ even of their kind. They loved me enough to die for me.’

once by blade, once by fire, once by water

‘Once by fire and once by water,’ I repeated. ‘But no’ by blade. Is that to be the death of the queen? She is to die by blade. I have seen the shadow of the executioner’s axe. Or is it me that must die?’

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

It was All Hallows’ Eve now. And Robbie had gone into the green hill and had not come out.

Did I love him enough to sacrifice myself, as Nan and Mam had done for me?

All around me, spindrifts of mist coiled into the shape of little girls with dark, desolate eyes and hands raised in pleading.