her.
Fiona Eira was preparing for bed when a knock came at her door. She wore only her white nightgown but assumed it was Lareina, so she called for her to come in. She tried to disguise her surprise at seeing Seamus, for he was not accustomed to visiting her room. Instinctively she crossed her arms in front of her and nodded to him. He looked strange, and he stank of ale. He closed the door behind him.
“I thought I might speak to you a moment, girl,” he said.
He took a seat on her bed and motioned for her to sit beside him. He smiled at her strangely, almost as if he were leering at her.
“Fiona,” he said, his breath coming in malodorous waves. “I thought it might be a good time to have a talk, you and I.”
“A talk?” She inched away, confused by the way he looked at her.
He smiled, baring his teeth, and then he put his hand on her knee. It took all of her strength not to recoil.
“You’re a pretty lass, you know that, don’t you?”
Slowly his hand began to slide up the inside of her leg. She gasped, then froze, horrified. She felt as though she were drowning. She stared straight ahead, her insides gone suddenly numb. She could feel tears slide down her face as she concentrated on the grain of the wood on the wall in front of her.
“You keep real quiet now,” he said, and his hand continued up her leg.
And then the door opened wide, and pulling away from her, he lurched to his feet.
Lareina stood in the doorway, staring at him, her face a mask of horror. He swallowed hard, but did not speak. Lareina looked to Fiona, then closed her eyes a moment, and when she spoke, her voice shook.
“Sam and Josiah are downstairs, Seamus. They’ve come to collect you,” she said.
Refusing to look at either of them, he stood and stumbled out of the room. Lareina followed, and Fiona was left alone sitting on the edge of the bed. Below her she heard the glassblower speaking to the men, and then the door closing behind them.
Then she heard Lareina making a great deal of noise. She was opening and closing drawers, moving hurriedly. She was crying. Fiona Eira could hear all of this, but she didn’t seem to hear it from within her own body. It was as if she were floating above herself, watching the terrified girl with her disciplined plaits sitting frozen on the edge of her bed while the world crashed down all around her.
She could still feel the glassblower’s touch on her, and smell the ale, and her mind reeled, rebelling against her, trying to bury those moments before they became a part of her, before they became her fault.
She sat shaking, and it was only a moment later that Lareina rounded the corner, a travel bag in her hand. She looked at her stepdaughter with heartbroken eyes, and silentlyshe began moving around the room filling the bag. The last thing she tucked inside was Fiona’s stuffed lamb. When she had finished, she sank to her knees and took Fiona’s face in her hands.
“My darling,” she said. “My darling, you must forgive me.”
“Forgive you?” Fiona whispered.
Her stepmother looked her square in the eyes. “You need to leave this place,” she said.
“Leave?”
“Yes. Leave here at once.” Lareina wiped tears from her eyes. “Before he returns. Our home is no longer safe. You will go to the woods. You will go deep into the woods to the Greenwitch. There you will wait for me, and in three days’ time, I shall join you. Somehow … somehow I will secure money, and we two, we shall go together. This place is no longer our home.”
And then she stood and wrapped her arms around her stepdaughter, and together they walked downstairs to the back door. It was snowing outside, and Fiona, still numb, still lost somewhere inside herself, opened the door and stepped out into the night. She looked at her stepmother, whose face was creased with pain as if she had aged twenty years in a quarter of an hour. Lareina took Fiona’s hands.
“My wondrous child, how I love you,” she
Fiona Eira was preparing for bed when a knock came at her door. She wore only her white nightgown but assumed it was Lareina, so she called for her to come in. She tried to disguise her surprise at seeing Seamus, for he was not accustomed to visiting her room. Instinctively she crossed her arms in front of her and nodded to him. He looked strange, and he stank of ale. He closed the door behind him.
“I thought I might speak to you a moment, girl,” he said.
He took a seat on her bed and motioned for her to sit beside him. He smiled at her strangely, almost as if he were leering at her.
“Fiona,” he said, his breath coming in malodorous waves. “I thought it might be a good time to have a talk, you and I.”
“A talk?” She inched away, confused by the way he looked at her.
He smiled, baring his teeth, and then he put his hand on her knee. It took all of her strength not to recoil.
“You’re a pretty lass, you know that, don’t you?”
Slowly his hand began to slide up the inside of her leg. She gasped, then froze, horrified. She felt as though she were drowning. She stared straight ahead, her insides gone suddenly numb. She could feel tears slide down her face as she concentrated on the grain of the wood on the wall in front of her.
“You keep real quiet now,” he said, and his hand continued up her leg.
And then the door opened wide, and pulling away from her, he lurched to his feet.
Lareina stood in the doorway, staring at him, her face a mask of horror. He swallowed hard, but did not speak. Lareina looked to Fiona, then closed her eyes a moment, and when she spoke, her voice shook.
“Sam and Josiah are downstairs, Seamus. They’ve come to collect you,” she said.
Refusing to look at either of them, he stood and stumbled out of the room. Lareina followed, and Fiona was left alone sitting on the edge of the bed. Below her she heard the glassblower speaking to the men, and then the door closing behind them.
Then she heard Lareina making a great deal of noise. She was opening and closing drawers, moving hurriedly. She was crying. Fiona Eira could hear all of this, but she didn’t seem to hear it from within her own body. It was as if she were floating above herself, watching the terrified girl with her disciplined plaits sitting frozen on the edge of her bed while the world crashed down all around her.
She could still feel the glassblower’s touch on her, and smell the ale, and her mind reeled, rebelling against her, trying to bury those moments before they became a part of her, before they became her fault.
She sat shaking, and it was only a moment later that Lareina rounded the corner, a travel bag in her hand. She looked at her stepdaughter with heartbroken eyes, and silentlyshe began moving around the room filling the bag. The last thing she tucked inside was Fiona’s stuffed lamb. When she had finished, she sank to her knees and took Fiona’s face in her hands.
“My darling,” she said. “My darling, you must forgive me.”
“Forgive you?” Fiona whispered.
Her stepmother looked her square in the eyes. “You need to leave this place,” she said.
“Leave?”
“Yes. Leave here at once.” Lareina wiped tears from her eyes. “Before he returns. Our home is no longer safe. You will go to the woods. You will go deep into the woods to the Greenwitch. There you will wait for me, and in three days’ time, I shall join you. Somehow … somehow I will secure money, and we two, we shall go together. This place is no longer our home.”
And then she stood and wrapped her arms around her stepdaughter, and together they walked downstairs to the back door. It was snowing outside, and Fiona, still numb, still lost somewhere inside herself, opened the door and stepped out into the night. She looked at her stepmother, whose face was creased with pain as if she had aged twenty years in a quarter of an hour. Lareina took Fiona’s hands.
“My wondrous child, how I love you,” she
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