Seamus Flint awoke in his cell to the sound of someone lightly giggling. He sat upright, a sweat breaking out along his hairline, as he was gripped by an overwhelming sense of terror.
“Who’s there?” he gasped, and then he saw a figure in the shadows.
“Hello,” replied a girl’s voice.
He could just make out a silhouette in the darkness. “Who are you?” he whispered.
The figure spoke to him as if he were a child. “It’s me. Fiona. I’ve come for a friendly visit.”
He held up his hands to her, making the sign of the Goddess, but nothing happened. “You’re not Fiona. You’re a thing from hell is what you are.”
She laughed again—a high, tinkling laughter that made him feel like he might be sick.
“I’ve heard the news,” she said. “I’ve heard that they’re going to execute you, and I just can’t let that happen.”
“You can’t?” he asked, and for a brief moment, he was moved to believe this demon crouching there in the darkness was there to help him.
“No,” she said. “Not after what you tried to do to me … after what you did to Lareina.” Fiona paused for a moment, then continued, “I want you to tell me something.”
“Anything,” he said, nodding.
“You knew my father well, didn’t you? Back before you were drinking. You were young men together.”
“Yes,” Seamus said, his voice quavering. “I knew him well.”
“Tell me, why did you marry his wife? Why did you bring us here away from our home?”
“To—to protect you,” he stammered.
“And did you do that?”
“I did,” he gasped.
“Think again, dear stepfather. Is that what you did? Were you really trying to protect us?”
“Okay,” he cried. “No. That’s not what I did. Your father, he received money from here, from Nag’s End. From your uncle. I thought I could use the money, only it wasn’t … it wasn’t enough. But please, it wasn’t just that. I also protected you. You and your stepmother would have been destitute if I’d not stepped in.”
“Ah,” she said. “And were you trying to protect me that night when you came into my room?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t mean to. It was the liquor. It was only the liquor,” he said, shaking now, violent shudders surging through his body.
“Poor Seamus,” she mocked, stepping into the light now. “You must be so cold. And so scared. Are you scared? Do I make you feel scared?”
He looked away, afraid to see the creature that stood fully illuminated before him.
“Tell me,” she said. “Tell me why Goi Rose was paying my father.”
He shook his head, and then he felt a hand pull his jaw forward, a burning heat searing his face.
“Answer me!” she screamed.
“I don’t know,” he cried, still averting his eyes. “Please, I swear to you that I don’t know.”
And then the hand released him. “I believe you,” she said, her voice sweet again, and he sighed with relief. “Now, we’re almost finished here, and then I’m going to save you. Do you understand? I want you to thank me.”
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“Just one last thing,” she said. “I want you to look at me.”
“No,” he wept. “I can’t do that. Please don’t make me.”
“Look at me,” she commanded.
Trembling, he looked up at her, and for a moment, she was the person he remembered—beautiful Fiona, an angel among girls. But then something went wrong. She began to change, and right before his eyes, she transformed into a monster, full of fury and hatred, filth and evil, and the last thing he remembered was the searing pain as her teeth tore into his flesh.
Fiona hadn’t been in any of the usual places, and Tom had spent the day wandering, searching, and when night came, he could barely move for the cold that had gotten inside his bones.
Night was slipping into morning when he finally found her. She was back in her fairy hollow, having stolen past him at some point. At first he was relieved to see her, but something was wrong. She was curled up in her nightgown, and it was covered in blood. It was everywhere, all over her body, all over her hands and face, and to her hair clung bits of flesh and bone.
He rushed to her and took her into his arms.
“My darling,” he cried. “My darling, are you hurt?”
She looked up at him, clearly only just realizing he’d entered the space. “Tom.” She smiled, and he saw that her teeth were stained pink.
“What’s happened to you?”
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said. “I was hoping you’d come.”
He searched her body for wounds, but he found nothing.
Reaching for him, she clung to him and wept. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”
“It’s going to be okay,” he said, his head swimming, knowing that whatever was happening, there probably wasn’t a way that it could ever be okay.
Gathering water from the basin, and a cloth soft as petals, he started to wipe the blood away. Stroke by stroke he worked, the ivory of her skin beginning to peek out from underneath. When he had finished, he helped her change into a white shift he discovered under a blanket in the corner, and then he led her to the little bed she had made for herself. For an instant, he was startled to see something on top of the bed, something white and smeared with blood. His heart stalled for a moment before he realized it was only a stuffed lamb. Fiona, barely looking at him, climbed under the covers, and gripping the stuffed animal to her chest like a child might, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
15. JUDGMENT
THE NEXT MORNING, Jude returned from his hunt to find his father discussing something with his mother.
“Is everything all right?” he asked, and his father nodded, then apparently thinking better of it, he looked at his wife and shook his head.
“No, everything’s not all right,” Elsbet said. Standing, she placed her hands on the table in front of her and stared down her oldest son. “What is going on with your brother? He’s not coming home at night. Where is he sleeping, Jude? I know that you know.”
Jude raised his hands in the air. “Leave me be. He hasn’t spoken to me in days.”
“He’s lying,” she said, and stalked out of the room.
When Jude was alone with his father, the older man looked at him with pained eyes. “You mustn’t mind her.”
“I don’t,” he said, not wanting to discuss his mother. “But, Father, I wanted to ask you something.”
“What is it?”
“Henry Rose’s wife, what was her name?”
His father thought for a moment. “Brigid. A lovely woman. Tall and beautiful, with a kind face she was. A sad thing, her death.”
“Did you know her?” Jude asked, taking a seat opposite him.
“No. Not more than to say hello. They weren’t here long before she died.”
“Do you know where she came from—what province?”
“I don’t.” His father looked at him with curious eyes. “Why all the questions?”
“Mama Tetri, the Bluewitch staying with Mama Lune, have you ever seen her in Nag’s End before?”
His father nodded. “I have. Water witches tend to roam. I’m sure she’s been through here a couple of times at least.”
“Do you remember when?” His father shook his head, so Jude went on. “Do you think it’s possible that she might have come through when Rowan’s mother was pregnant?”
Wilhelm seemed to think for a moment, then squinted. “Aye. I think so. Yes. Well, Brigid wasn’t pregnant anymore; she’d already gone to the Goddess during childbirth. Your mother and I missed the rites because Tom was quite ill.” He held a hand to his heart. “I still remember that like it was yesterday. Here he was just walking, just starting to get his sea legs, when all of a sudden he can’t lift himself up. Couldn’t even crawl or move his head. Came on like a summer storm it did. We had to call Mama Lune. She said he’d caught an ill wind, and she fixed him up. We thought he was going to die, but she had him right in a few days’ time. But yes,” he said, confusion lining his face. “I remember the Bluewitch was with her. She played with you while the rest of us tended to Tom. Goddess, am I glad you boys are grown, and those days are gone—those days when you were small enough to die from a hint of wind.”