The Light-Bearer's Daughter (13 page)

It wasn’t long before she began to see them.

A harsh croak pierced the air as a great raven landed nearby. Dana knew immediately it was no ordinary bird, for it was the size of a big dog and had silver-white eyes that flashed like lightning. As soon as it landed, it began to transform. The blue-black feathers melded together to form a capacious cloak from which limbs emerged. A layer of dark skin slid over its face as the beak withdrew to become a sharp nose. Glossy dreadlocks fell down its back. The raven had changed into a tall and beautiful woman, both striking and terrifying. Her fierce black eyes, rimmed with gold, lingered on Dana for one nerve-wracking second and then dismissed her. As the raven-queen strode away, Dana breathed a sigh of relief.

But now she jumped with fright when a mountain hare exploded from a patch of heather. She was less surprised when this one turned into a wrinkled old woman, for Dana knew the superstition that hares were witches. Again, the creature simply went about her business. As the Lady had said, the denizens of Faerie assumed Dana was blind, and she was glad they showed no interest in her. Yet here was the catch to the Lady’s gift. Did Dana really want to see what was all around her?

Moving to a lower slope to avoid the biting winds, she came to a stream that ran down a dark crag. At first she thought the waters ran red because of iron in the soil. Then she heard the singing. The voice was mournful and high-pitched, a keening wail. Craning her neck, Dana spied the female figure kneeling on the ledge above. Long straggly hair hid most of her face; her hands were wrinkled and blood-stained. Beside her lay a pile of soiled linen. As she washed the garments in the stream, the waters ran red.

Shuddering uncontrollably, Dana had no choice but to forge the stream. Her running shoes turned pink as she splashed through the shallows. Her stomach heaved. She knew of the
Bean Nighe
, the Washerwoman who scrubbed the shrouds of the murdered. The
Bean Sídhe
was her sister, the green-haired ghost who howled at night outside the homes of those who were about to die.

As Dana fled, almost tumbling down the hillside, the dread voice followed after her.

Darest thou go, O child
,

Into the night
,

Where death awaits
,

Lurking in the shadows?

Dana’s fear was spiraling. Dusk had begun to settle over the mountains with a steely light. The thought of being out alone in the dark with such creatures was horrifying. She hurried down on a sheep’s track, through a patch of prickly gorse. Was that something behind her? She stopped to look back. There was nothing to be seen. A wild animal, perhaps? A badger or fox? She continued downward, telling herself to stay calm. But a little voice in her head screamed that something was following her. There it was again! Clacking noises, like stones banged together. Suddenly the bushes on either side of her bristled. She glimpsed shapes like giant insects scuttling underneath. Terror gorged in her throat. There was a pack of them!

Dana screamed and ran.

As soon as she did, they charged.

In a headlong scramble, she plunged down the slope, heedless of briars and stinging nettles. Her hands were scratched and bleeding. Wild with fear, she panted like a hunted animal. What were they? Why were they chasing her? Something caught up to her and ran alongside. Small and dark, it had coppery eyes that glinted wickedly. With a shriek, she sprang ahead. Her legs were longer. But could she outrun them? Her heart was pounding in her chest, her breathing shallow. She felt a stitch coming on.

A stone struck the back of her head. She let out a cry. A shower of pebbles fell around her. A few landed ahead. Broken pieces of flint! Axe-heads, like the ones in the museum.
Fairy arrows
, the old people called them.
Elf-shots
. She tried to dodge the missiles, swerving this way and that. It wasn’t easy, running downhill. The ground was uneven. The gorse clawed at her legs and arms. She clutched her side where the stitch cut like a knife.

It was the net that finally brought her down. First came its shadow like wings overhead. Then a blow as the heavy web landed. She pitched forward into a tangle of rope, limbs, and bushes, dragging some of her assailants with her. The air rang with cries and shouts on every side.

Snared like a fly in a spider’s web, Dana kicked out wildly. Through the coarse mesh she could just make out squat, mud-colored creatures. They appeared to be half her height, with webbed fingers that were cold and clammy. Despite her disadvantage, she was putting up a good fight, determined to get back on her feet. Wherever her kicks landed, the others would yell and curse, but they clung tenaciously. More and more arrived, leaping on top of her as if to squash her. Soon she was lost in a scrum of small bodies, overwhelmed by the smell of damp soil and grass.

“I give up!” she screamed, terrified that they meant to smother her.

The minute she stopped fighting, they all jumped off, howling with triumph. In a matter of minutes they trussed her up inside the net and hoisted her onto their shoulders. Then they set off, back up the mountainside.

Stunned and in shock, Dana kept still. None of them had said a word to her, but they chattered away to each other in a mix of Irish and English. Their voices were deep and murky. Most of the time they were calling out warnings and directions.

“Puddle here!” someone shouted from the right.

Dana was immediately jerked to the left.

“Briars!” called one in the front.

They swerved so suddenly, her stomach lurched.

“Nettle patch!
Suas! Suas!
” came too late as the dreaded leaves stung her, fast and furiously like a swarm of angry bees.

“Ow!” she yelled. “Be careful!”

They ignored her.

Dana fought to keep her wits about her. She needed to know what they were and why they had abducted her. From time to time she attempted some resistance, but their grip was too firm. She could hardly move a muscle. In the end, she decided to conserve her strength and wait for the right moment to make her escape. Judging by the heaves and puffs, they were beginning to flag. Eventually they would have to put her down and rest.

At one point, a cuckoo’s call echoed from low ground. They all came to an abrupt halt. She could sense them holding their breath as they listened. Now the cuckoo cried again. They let out a cheer.

“’Twas on the right!”

“Good luck for a year and a day!”

Crowing with delight, they continued their trek.

Where were they going? As evening set in, the mountains darkened like giant shadows. The air grew chill. Despite the jiggling and jangling and her unknown fate, Dana was beginning to grow bored. Her fear had subsided. For all that the creatures had attacked and kidnapped her, she didn’t get a sense of evil or malice. Though she had bruised most of them when she first fought them off, not one had pinched or poked her. And there was something pleasant about their scent, like freshly mown grass on a summer’s evening.

Having long lost track of time and direction, she was almost asleep when they reached new terrain. The feet of her captors squelched in soft ground. There was no more gorse, only tussocks of damp grass. Dana noticed something else. They all seemed to have gained a second wind, jogging along at a livelier pace. They were also talking and laughing more freely now. She suspected they had reached home ground.

“Isn’t we the clever boggles? Our first human child stoled in ages!”

“And a girl! A girl!”

Squeals of delight.

“Asha, they don’t leaves their childer out and about anymore.”

“’Tis true! No prams outside the house or under the tree.”

“No babbies on a blanket in the grass.”

“No wains wandrin’ to school through the fields on their ownio.”

“They guards them better nowadays.”

“Feeds them better too!” a little voice piped up. “She be’s heavy! Five stone at least.”

“Aye, she be’s a ton weight,” another agreed breathlessly. “The three-year-olds be best. She be’s nine or ten.”

Though she had intended to keep quiet in the hopes of overhearing something useful, this was too much for Dana.

“I’m twelve!” she said indignantly.

Gasps erupted, followed by a stony silence. It was obvious they were shocked.

“How’s it she hears us, lads?” someone ventured at last.

“I knew she seen us! Not just the elf-stones!”

“Some of thems could in the olden days.”

“She gots the right spirit. Out in the hills on her sweeney. Runnin’ away from home, I bets.”

“Well, she be’s far away from home now. We’ll gets great sport out of her.”

They danced about, jigging her up and down.

“Ye means we’re not going to eat her?”

This last remark provoked a little cry from Dana that led to such a fit of giggles, she suspected (and hoped) they were only teasing her. Still, she decided it was time to fight again. With a great roar, she exploded, twisting and turning with ferocious energy.

Caught off guard, they dropped her.

Dana immediately rolled away, tearing at the net like a cat in a bag. In a matter of minutes she was free and on her feet, fists up in the air.

Her kidnappers didn’t move.

Boggles, they had called themselves, and to the bog they belonged. No taller than her waist, all were of a muddy brown color, with long scrawny necks and round heads and plump tummies. Their large webbed feet were flat as plates. Some were dour-looking while others were ugly in a comical way. A few glittered with scales of bronze. Their most attractive feature were the coppery eyes, shining like new pennies.

The boggles returned Dana’s scrutiny with smug delight, nodding to each other and grinning and whispering. They were obviously sizing her up, pleased with their booty, their stolen prize. With a sinking feeling, Dana saw that they were not in the slightest bit worried that she was free. When she looked around her, she knew why.

They were standing on a vast bog that spread out on all sides as far as the eye could see; a drear place with no sign of a tree or road or anything else. The ground was soft peat, sodden and mossy. The sky seemed immense, dusted with stars like splintered glass. In the distance rose the dim outline of the Wicklow Mountains. She let out a low moan. She was miles off course. In an empty waste-land. No wonder the boggles looked so complacent.

There was no hope of escape. There was nowhere she could run to.

ne of the boggles stepped forward. At three feet in height he was the tallest among them and evidently the leader. He was also the only one who appeared to have some kind of hair: a bog asphodel that sprouted from the top of his head.

He bowed to Dana.

“We welcomes the human child to the Boglands. Can we helps make your stay happy?”

“
Leave me alone!
” she screamed, shifting her feet in a threatening manner.

Though they all jumped back, they didn’t look alarmed. Some of them snickered. They grinned at each other and shrugged.
Well if that’s the way she wants it
. Drifting away in twos and threes, they skimmed over the wet ground on their flat webbed feet, like skaters on a pond.

The moment Dana realized they were deserting her, she panicked. She had no idea where she was. The night was growing darker. She didn’t want to be left alone.

“Wait!” she called. “Wait a minute!”

As she hurried to catch up with them, they ran away from her, scattering like sheep on the road.

“Come back!” she shouted, chasing after them. “I won’t fight! I promise!”

She had almost reached one of them and was about to grab him, when he darted away in a last-minute sprint. They were all quick and skittish, squealing like piglets if she got too near. One or two stopped to stick out their tongues and thumb their noses. Others cut capers, twirling around like whirligig beetles in a bog puddle.

For a moment Dana thought she was back at home with her gang of boys. Did they really think they were better than her?