Then Lady Flidais got distracted. A messenger rode in from the south with some kind of bad news. Nobody told Cara what the news was and she didn’t ask. But both Flidais and the prince were looking solemn and thoughtful. There were meetings behind closed doors, and people from court, councillors and the like, coming to Winterfalls to talk to Prince Oran. With so many visitors, the grooms were busy and so were the serving people, from Aedan the steward and his wife Fíona right down to the scullery maids. Nobody asked Cara about riding over to see the wise woman, or about an escort, or about whether she was still feeling sick. Nobody had time to bother with her, which suited her perfectly.

She chose a day when they were all especially busy. She didn’t say a word to anyone, just packed a few things in a little bag and wandered up the hill toward the birches as if she were going for a short walk. And when she judged that there were no eyes on her, she climbed over the gate and slipped away toward Dreamer’s Wood.

Chapter Seven: Blackthorn

7

~Blackthorn~

The day was fine, the sun was shining and I was out in the wood gathering mushrooms. Several kinds grew here, some perfectly edible, others, such as the ones locally known as screamers, very much the opposite. Screamers had plain pinkish caps with a darker blush at the edges, set on sturdy stalks. They looked harmless, even appetising. But eaten in sufficient quantity, screamers could kill. They would at the very least send a person mad. I had seen folk tear at their own skin until it bled, bash their heads against solid walls, run about blindly, shrieking in terror. Hurt themselves. Hurt other folk. One way or another, a person who ate screamers would never be the same again.

My basket was full. Its contents were entirely edible. I turned for home, my mind on what story I would use for tonight’s reading lesson. A flash of colour under the trees brought me abruptly back to the here and now.

There was a girl at Dreamer’s Pool. A girl in Dreamer’s Pool, a young woman with her shoes off, paddling in the shallows. The last time anyone had gone in there, they’d been changed forever. The pool was fey. Perilous. Forbidden.

Best not call out. If I frightened her she might lose her balance and fall right in, all the quicker to become a fish or a dragonfly or a goat. How could she be so stupid? Everyone knew to keep out of the pool. Everyone . . . I walked down the path toward her, staying as quiet as I could. As soon as she saw me I would warn her to get out. But in a calm tone, so she wouldn’t be startled.