Let me in. The pecksie’s voice was louder. You bound me. I must see that no harm comes to the child, but you will not let us through! She will die with the child inside her, and the child will die, too, if you do not let us through. You bound me. I cannot let him come to harm. Let us through.
No! And then, as the possible meaning of the words sank into Mirrifen’s mind NO! she shouted. In a lower voice she added, I will never let you in.
Jami stirred. She opened her eyes. Water? she begged.
Not too much, Mirrifen cautioned, and held the dipper to her bitten lips.
She took a sip, and then gave a long caw of pain. When it passed, she whispered, Oh, this can’t be right. I’ve no strength left. The baby should be here by now.
First babies always take a long time, she said, hating the lie. Jamie would die, painfully, the child dying within her.
Help me, Jami said piteously.
I don’t know what to do, Mirrifen replied helplessly.
Drake. Oh, Drake, I’m so sorry, Jami said. Her voice brimmed with sorrow, and resignation. I’m so sorry, dear.
You can’t give up. You have to keep pushing, Jami. You have to.
I can’t, the young woman said quietly. I can’t. Her head lolled to one side and her eyes closed.
With a crash, glass shards scattered across the floor. The missile that had broken the window skidded to a stop by her foot. Mirrifen looked down. A charm. Familiar beads glittered alluringly on the framework. The web of threads drew her eyes into its wandering spiral that ended in a lock of dark hair. Her own, she knew. A sleep charm keyed to her. She could not look away. She fell to her knees beside Jami’s bed, overcome by drowsiness. She pushed at the charm with a lax hand, trying to put it out of sight. Her fingers would not close to grip it. She managed to pull the edge of the blanket partially over it. It took all her will to look away from it.
On the window sill, pecksies crowded, poised to enter the room as soon as she slept. But her charm held them back, beyond the broken glass. Mirrifen’s eyes sagged shut and her heavy head wobbled on her neck. She bit her lip hard and forced her eyes open. In that blink of darkness, a pecksie archer had appeared on the window sill. Slowly and steadily, he drew back his arrow and took careful aim at Jami.
No! she begged. No! Please.
The arrow flew. Mirrifen heard the solid thud of its impact. A tiny rattling, of unstrung beads falling from a broken string, followed it. He’d shot, not Jami, but her warding charm. As its power failed, an avalanche of pecksies cascaded into the room, squeaking to one another. Mirrifen clutched at the blankets to stay upright. She had to protect Jami. She tried to grasp the sleep charm and throw it out the window. Her fingers wouldn’t grip.
Then, hand over hand, the pecksie hedge-witch came up over the edge of Jami’s bed. She carried a glittering black knife. In her other hand, she clutched the small charm that Jami had earlier discarded. She knelt between Jami’s sprawled legs. She did not stir. Despite her terror, Mirrifen’s eyes were closing. The pecksie met her gaze. There was no compassion there, no mercy at all. Only determination. You bound me, and so I must do this. You charged me. ‘Let no harm come to the child.' You chose this. She set the charm on Jami’s belly.
Then her long-fingered hand seized the fold of blanket and turned it back to bare the sleep charm. As Mirrifen sank to the floor, the pecksie said, You should have spent your words more carefully.
Daylight washed through the shattered window and glittered on the broken glass on the silvery floor. Mirrifen blinked. She must have overslept. It was time to get up. Time to water the cows, time to feed the chickens. Time to make breakfast for Jami…
Jami! Mirrifen sat bolt upright.
The pecksie sitting on Jami’s bed opened her small hand. A cascade of charm beads fell from it, to rattle and roll on the floor. She flicked away the lock of Mirrifen’s hair.
What did you do? Oh, what did I do? Even with the charm destroyed, she felt she was surfacing from deep black water. Everything seemed too bright.
A very pale Jami lay still on the bed. A baby, firmly swaddled, rested against her side. The baby’s eyes were closed, but as Mirrifen watched, his lips puckered, pursed for a moment and then relaxed. Oh, Jami, Mirrifen sighed in sorrow. Then her heart leapt as Jami’s lids fluttered and opened. She smiled weakly at Mirrifen.
He’s just like his father. All he wants to do is eat.
That’s good. That’s so good, Mirrifen managed to say. Jami’s eyes were already sagging shut. Even her lips were pale.
She will live.
Mirrifen startled at the pecksie’s voice. Thank you, she said faintly. Groggily she got to her feet. She looked questioningly at the pecksie.
You believe stupid stories. ‘Pecksies kill babies.' Ha! This pecksie save her baby. Save her, too. The little woman gave Mirrifen a dark look. And not just because you say, ‘no harm to child,' and dead mother is harm to child. I save because pecksies not filthy, wicked things. Now you go milk cow, get eggs, cook. She needs food, rich food. So does pecksie.
As Mirrifen walked toward the kitchen, the pecksie waddled along at her side. What did you do? Mirrifen asked.
Broke your stupid ‘no pass' charm that kept baby inside her. Turned baby. Cut mother, just a little. Helped baby out.
Cut her. Mirrifen shivered. Will she be all right?
Sore. Weak. Better than dead. Feed her, rest her. She be better. She already less stupid.
Less stupid?
Knows pecksies saved her. Saved baby. The little woman shrugged. Less stupid about pecksies.
Thank you. Mirrifen met the pecksie’s eyes. I’m sorry I bound you. I’d undo it if I could.
I took milk. The pecksie shrugged. Bound myself. She sat down on the kitchen floor with a sigh. And you? the pecksie asked her. Are you less stupid?
It was my fault, wasn’t it? When I made a charm that said small people could not pass, I kept the baby from being born. I should have been more careful.
The pecksie nodded grimly. You less stupid now. She cocked her head at Mirrifen. Do chores. I stay here.
Mirrifen paused at the door. You’re a hedge-witch, aren’t you?
The pecksie considered it. Stupid words. Pecksie not a hedge, not a witch. Pecksie a charm-maker.
She could not bring herself to ask. I always wanted to be a charm-maker.
The pecksie narrowed her green eyes. Will you bind me to teach you?
Mirrifen shook her head. No. Never again. Words are too dangerous to bind anyone with them.
I teach, then. A small smile of approval bent her cat’s mouth. You learning already.