In Celtic mythology, she is both a destructive and a regenerative force, signaling the end of one cycle and the beginning of another. She has been known to transform into a hare or stag to disguise herself. With the ability to call upon all creatures to aid her, she has reign over everything from the wild fox to the mythical beasts that roam the land.
She is wise, seeing through any veil held to deceive her. Like the trinity knot, she signifies life, death, rebirth, and the perpetual cycles of nature. Tradition shows that people often leave offerings to appease her, hoping for amild and manageable winter ahead. The Scottish Cailleach stands as a powerful link between mythology and the natural world in the hearts of the Scottish people, with countless stories and legends exploring her enduring presence, some of which you will discover within these pages.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Shadow Beneath the Ice
Acold so harsh that it rivaled death’s embrace woke Nora. The darkness encircling her was filled with the crushing sound of complete silence, and it took a moment for Nora’s eyes to adjust. In the pitch-black surroundings, she could barely make out murky silhouettes of trees and small shrubs around her. A cold breeze blew past her, bringing with it the scent of evergreens. The daze of sleep had worn off, replaced by fear. Had she fallen asleep while reading and sleepwalked? The cold seeped into her scant clothing, and as her feet stumbled, she discovered she was standing in a foot of snow. An eerie scream of an animal shattered the deafening silence, causing her to quickly turn around. All she could discern in the darkness was a break in the trees up ahead.
Beyond all better judgment, she walked toward the clearing, drawn by the mysterious sound. Had it been a fox or perhaps a screech of an owl? The closer she got to the opening in the tree line, the more aware she became that she was entering some sort of open field. By the time she broke the edge of the clearing, her feet were so numb she could scarcely feel them. The sound of the animal called out again with its long, loud screech—an owl, she thought—as she mindlessly followed its call.
Not until she had made it halfway into the large field did she hear the sound again, this time low and guttural, breaking her trance and sending a shock of fear racing through her. Definitely not an owl. Then came an even more terrifying sound—the ominous cracking of ice below her feet.
In the split second it took her to realize she was not standing in a field but on a frozen loch, she found herself in the icy cold water, plunging deep below its surface. The shock hit her like a bolt of lightning.
The loch’s freezing water tightened around every muscle in her body, making it impossible to fight its deathly grip. She tried to kick to the surface, but her legs and arms felt like lead weights, and as much as she tried, she could not get them to work. The cold and darkness quickly consumed her, as if they had been perched below, waiting for her to descend into their depths. It took only a moment for her to succumb, and as her lungs burned and began to give in to their watery end, she felt movement beneath her.
Something skimmed the bottoms of her feet, then her middle, and she felt as if she was being lifted upward. Unable to move, Nora watched as the ice broke apart, and her body emerged above the water’s surface. Gasping for air, she was carried toward the bank of the loch and gently slid onto the snowy shore. Confused and disoriented, Nora glanced back toward the water, searchingfor what had saved her, but the only thing she saw were large ripples where something had been.
Fear coursed through her as the numbness from the cold spread. She tried to get onto her feet but her legs remained stubbornly frozen and unresponsive.
“Help!” she screamed, her voice cracking with desperation. She cried out again and again, but her calls were unanswered. Her cold wet body had no fight left in it, and she slumped forward, falling limp on the frigid ground by the loch’s edge.Stay awake, she begged herself, but gradually the cold claimed her, and she surrendered to its icy embrace. Right before she faded into the abyss, she saw a giant creature emerge from the water. Its long neck craned downward as its gentle, luminous green eyes locked on hers, as if it were waiting for her, waiting to guide her into the next realm.
Nora woke with her heart racing and sweat dripping from her hairline. She looked around surprised to see she was snug in bed, in the upstairs of the rental. Despite the bed and the cozy blankets she was wrapped in, she felt an inexplicable chill, as if she had just emerged from the frigid waters of her dream. She pulled the quilt up to her chin and glanced at the clock on the wall—it was only five in the morning.
Despite her efforts, she couldn’t coax herself back to sleep. Not willing to risk waking Alistair downstairs, she decided to give him time to pack his bags and leave before venturing down, and that might take several more hours. Picking up her phone off the nightstand, she went to check her email and read her daily horoscope, but service was essentially nonexistent, so she gave up. Setting the phone back on the nightstand, she looked over at the old dresser where her bag lay open, the Christmas bauble from the market peeking out from its safe resting spot. She still couldn’tbelieve all the crazy coincidences that had happened since she bought the little red book.
Reaching to the nightstand, she pulled it out from the stack. She wanted to know what happened to Cora’s grandmother. Had she survived, or had she met the same ill fate as her own grandmother? The bond between them felt like another echo from the pages into Nora’s own reality, deepening her investment in the story. Flipping on the lamp, she pulled her hair up into a ponytail, arranged the pillows against the bed frame, and flipped to where she had left off.
I hurried back to the cottage, feverishly searching through Gran’s belongings for her book. It didn’t take long before I discovered it tucked discreetly beneath her pillow. The book was large and thick, its deep brown leather cover embossed with symbols unfamiliar to me. Its weathered cover and fragile pages suggested it might be centuries old. The scent of countless herbs lingered on it, a testament to years of spells cast in its presence.
My heart raced at the realization that the book had been left in a place where it could have easily been discovered. Seated on the bed, I cradled it in my hands for a long while. Opening it felt like entering a realm of uncertainty, and I feared I might uncover dreadful spells for unholy purposes that would make me see Gran in a different light. However, as I held it, a soothing energy seemed to emanate from within the book, as if the power contained within was reaching out to me, reassuring me, coaxing me to open the book and explore its contents.
With care, I turned the aged pages, inspecting each one meticulously. There were spells ranging from charms for love and protection to ensuring fruitful harvests and gentle winters. There were incantations to summon rain and to halt it. Spells to aid in childbirth and to deal with husbands too eager to spread their seed. As I delved deeper, the incantations darkened, spanning frombringing one back from death to the summoning of spirits from beyond. The next page I turned was marked with a raven feather delicately tucked within. It marked a spell titled“Realm of Sleep.”
~A handful of dried hops, calendula flowers, and dried valerian. One single belladonna berry, dried—any more, and it will cause death to those who ingest it. Boil the blossoms in water for tea and burn the stalks over an open flame while repeating:
As my mind fights the pull of night, the dream realm calls from beyond twilight. With the aid of earth, water, and fire, bring me the sleep I truly desire. To sleep as deeply as the dead, then awake with the sun, within my bed.~
Gran was trying to craft a sleep remedy for herself. That must have been why she was up so late when I saw her, I thought as I gazed down at the spell inscribed in deep black onyx ink. The doctor’s diagnosis was correct—it was belladonna poisoning. It appeared she had been too frail to handle the potent ingredients in the potion. I urgently scanned the book for an antidote or incantation to counteract the effects of the berries’toxins. The book was quite thick, and it seemed it would take ages to find what I was looking for, if there even was such a spell.
To my relief, after what must have been an hour, I stumbled upon a spell that could counter the one she had cast upon herself. It was titled“To Dispel Magic from a Spell Gone Awry.”The instructions called for rowanberries from a tree near the shores of Loch Ness, boiled in water drawn from a copper bowl at Tobar Mhoire in Letterfearn. However, before the water was collected, the Ansuz rune was to be drawn at the head of the well while saying,“Wisdom from this water’s well, counteract, reverse this spell.”The tonic was meant to be consumed along with the ingredients of the spell that caused harm. Below, a small note indicated that the counter-spell must be done within three days of the originalenchantment, or it would prove ineffective.
I closed the book, carefully wrapped it in Gran’s wool shawl, and tucked it into her bag nestled beneath her belongings. Standing there for a fleeting moment, I contemplated how I would explain this situation to the duke. I realized I needed his assistance in acquiring the necessary items to counteract the spell, but I could not tell him how I obtained the information.
Upon my return to the castle, I discovered Gwen gently applying a cold, wet cloth to Gran’s forehead as she lay in her enchanted slumber. The sight of her stillness struck my heart with heaviness; she appeared ashen, and dark sunken circles that matched the blue hue of her lips enveloped her eyes.
“Oh, Miss, come. I shall leave you two to be alone,”Gwen declared, standing up and gesturing for me to take her place beside Gran’s bedside.
Seated there, tenderly dabbing the cool cloth on her forehead, my mind still raced to find a way to explain the situation to the duke. Revealing the truth would only jeopardize Gran’s safety, potentially branding us both as witches. I needed to leverage his debt to her for saving his wife and son. I aimed to convince him that Gran required an ancient remedy known to all wise women—one she had taught me how to make. Just as I solidified my plan, he entered the room, accompanied by the duchess.
“How is she?”the duchess inquired. She shielded her mouth and nose with a cloth in fear that Gran might be contagious.
“She remains unchanged, my lady,”I replied before turning my attention back to Gran.
“I’m sorry, Cora, but the doctor believes she’s too old and frail to fight,”the duke expressed, his tone tinged with regret.
“Your Grace, I have been searching my mind for a remedy that might aid her in the battle she is facing. I believe I know just the one, an ancient remedy she has used to save countless others, but I’ll need your assistance to obtain the required ingredients,”I implored.
