The Selkie’s Daughter Read Free Page A

nights.  Surprisingly, the cat’s fur was cool to the touch.
    Opening her eyes, she saw the peat fire had burnt down to ash and embers.  “Oh, I’m sorry, Meone.  ’Twas heedless of me to sleep so long.”
    Not banked, the fire would soon die out and she would have to work to get another blaze going.  Reluctantly, she put the cat away from her and went to the pile of twigs.  Snapping them, she fed the smallest pieces of wood to the embers and waited until she had coaxed the flames to come consume them, then added larger hunks of a limb.  Carefully, she added a peat to that and soon the amber glow and heady scent spread through the cottage.  She added a few more twigs to keep the blaze burning bright so the turf block would not smother the growing fire.
    As she sat watching until it was burning strong enough to add two more peats, the odd dream threaded through her thoughts.  Strange, that her mind had somehow blended Hagatha with the Auld Celtic Goddess, Annis.  Her rule had been powerful throughout these Northlands, but those days had long passed.  With the new Christian church banishing the old beliefs, people rarely paid honor to Annis any longer, her memory faded.  She was a goddess of water––lochs, rivers and even small wells were her domain.  The priests railed that she was an evil deity who would grant a wish––the price was a small child, which she would eat.  But then, it seemed this church did not hold too favorable opinion on women, as a whole.  Sitting there protecting the new blaze, she breathed in the scent of the earthy peat, and without thought, began humming that same melody she had heard in the dream.
    Her head jerked up when she heard the whinny of a horse.  Mayhap she was still asleep and this was naught more than a dream within a dream?  There should be no souls out on a night of such a horrible snowstorm.  She listened without breathing, waiting for some sign it was real and not her mind playing tricks.  The sound came again. 
    Meone ran to the door, put his nose to the frame and began mewing loudly.
    “You truly wish to go outside in this?”
    There was a small kitty hole cut in the side door, where Meone could come and go out through the woodshed into the barn so he could hunt mice and such, thus it was unlike him to beg to go outside.  The black feline stood on his hind paws and stretched his leg high, as if he was trying to reach the crossbar.
    “Insistent you are.  You will no’ like it out there.”
    Meone howled piteously and began to frantically claw at the door.
    As she reached the entrance, the deep-throated whinny came once more.  People avoided the grove.  ’Twas rare when someone ventured this far into the forest, even in the best of weather.  Generally, women came looking for Hagatha to make a tansy or a philter to draw the love of a man, or mayhap rid them of an unwanted babe when they had been none too wise.  Still, most genuinely feared Hagatha.  Witch, they called her, and in verity, there was more than a grain of truth to that.  Unless the need was pressing, few ever ventured near for dread of provoking the old woman’s wrath.  Since the passing of her friend, Annys had kept a solitary existence these long summer months.  None knew that her dear companion no longer walked this earth.
    Who would risk coming out on a night as this?
    Annys hesitated with her hand on the door, thinking to keep it barred and remain safely inside.  Mayhap the intruder would simply go away.  The wind moaned and whistled through the old pines, causing her to shiver.  Only a fool or an idiot would be out on a night such as this.  Or someone in trouble.   She felt guilty thinking to stay protected when somebody could be lost or ill.  Without doubt, they would need shelter to survive this night.
    Decision made, she reached for her woolen mantle from the hook by the door, and swung it about her shoulders.  Annys hoped she would not regret this choice, but she