Page 87 of Outlaw Ever After

One by one, Peigi ferried the children between the cottages, toward the grass fringing the water.

“Mi lady,” Gertrude whimpered.

“Wheesht, lassie.” Peigi pinned the girl’s head to her stomach. “Come, we’ll walk together.”

She gripped Gertie’s hand and hurried behind her gaggle, hustling them down the path, into the darkness, tamping down the worry that gripped her throat and choked her ever since a woad-painted warrior had once cornered her.

Familiarity assailed as they arrived at the water’s edge. As if she’d been here before, which she knew she couldn’t have been. Yet memories of dancing, celebrating, pups that chased butterflies and led her astray whilst her aunt tied the knot with Kendrew’s sire only grew stronger. Was this the place they’d come to so long ago?

Ridiculous.

It’s just a shore. They all look similar. It’s a coincidence.

She began turning to the right to go down the shore as if memory guided her. Alex had said to follow the current. It was hard to see which way it flowed in the dark, and so, she picked up a leaf and tossed it in. Watched it float away and followed its course.

“This way. Sir Alexander spoke of a cave. Will that be lovely? Hiding there like wee foxes?” She forced a smile, trying to mask the tremor in her voice.

Searching wildly through the night, she finally spied the black void. Climbing up the pebbly shore, it was the cave he’d referenced, the entrance strewn in pebbles and tiny mussel shells.

How can he ken this is here unless it’s as I suspect?

“I’m cold,” chattered one child, as more flakes blew around them.

Beyond the cave in the distance, over another stretch of water, a small… Was that a ruin? Hard to tell in the dark, but she’d thought she’d spied one when arriving to the village, while Alex had gazed up at the trees as they’d traversed the woods, caressing his fingers upon the trunks, as if lost in another world. It protruded like a silhouette in the moonlight peeking through the clouds.

“’Tis good we have the dog, aye? She’ll keep ye warm.”

She hurried the children up the shore, imagining Mildred frolicking across the field beyond and her making chase, the pup never found.

“Mildred.” She murmured the memory aloud. The old wolfhound beside her cocked her head unexpectedly and Peigi looked into the dog’s patient black pools.

“Sing a holiday song,” a child asked.

“Aye, a Samhain song, and we can pretend we’re eating soul cakes.”

“Only if ye sing with me,” Peigi encouraged.

“Blessings made on Samhain nights before the midnight bell.

When fae folk dance and sing, weaving two souls in a spell.

Three times ye have to find your mate or fall unto the curse.

For Samhain nights are only when such spell can be reversed.”

One by one, they crawled into the cramped space and sat in the river silt, huddling together.

Distant thundering of confrontation echoed. Peigi gripped Gertie and Thomas and let her mind drift. Let her habits override her heartache. And encouraged the children to sing with her.

“The first spell is a blessing made with veils betwixt us thin.

The second is a brushing past of hearts that yearn to win.

But lo behold our lovers dear whose worlds collide on three,

for only when the veils thin can their love be free.”

The waters lapped gently in the inky nighttime, soothing the children as their whimpering softened and their singing grew more cheerful, until it was celebratory, and the dog nestled between them lolling her tongue.