“Ach, what people mean to do and what is done are two different things,” said the kelda. Her little eyes shone. “Your wee brother is…safe, child. Ye could say he’s safer where he is noo than he has ever been. No mortal ills can touch him. The Quin wouldna harm a hair o’ his heid. And there’s the evil o’ it. Help me up here, girl.”
Fion leaped up immediately and helped the kelda struggle up higher among her cushions.
“Where wuz I?” the kelda continued. “Ah, the wee laddie. Aye, ye could say he bides well where he is, in the Quin’s own country. But I daresay there’s a mother grievin’?”
“And our father, too,” said Tiffany.
“An’ his wee sister?” said the kelda.
Tiffany felt the words yes, of course trot automatically onto her tongue. She also knew that it would be very stupid to let them go any further. The little old woman’s dark eyes were seeing right into her head.
“Aye, you’re a born hag, right enough,” said the kelda, holding her gaze. “Ye got that little bitty bit inside o’ you that holds on, right? The bitty bit that watches the rest o’ ye. ’Tis the First Sight and Second Thoughts ye have, and ’tis a wee gift an’ a big curse to ye. You see and hear what others canna, the world opens up its secrets to ye, but ye’re always like the person at the party with the wee drink in the corner who canna join in. There’s a little bitty bit inside ye that willna melt and flow. Ye’re Sarah Aching’s line, right enough. The lads fetched the right one.”
Tiffany didn’t know what to say to that, so she didn’t say anything. The kelda watched her, eyes twinkling, until Tiffany felt awkward.
“Why would the Queen take my brother?” she asked eventually. “And why is she after me?”
“Ye think she is?”
“Well, yes, actually! I mean, Jenny might have been a coincidence, but the horseman? And the grimhounds? And taking Wentworth?”
“She’s bending her mind to ye,” said the kelda. “When she does, something of her world passes into this one. Mebbe she just wants to test you.”
“Test me?”
“To see how good you are. Ye’re the hag noo, the witch who guards the edges and the gateways. So wuz yer granny, although she wouldna ever call hersel’ one. And so wuz I until noo, and I’ll pass the duty to ye. She’ll ha’ to get past ye, if she wants this land. Ye have the First Sight and the Second Thoughts, just like yer granny. That’s rare in a bigjob.”
“Don’t you mean second sight?” Tiffany asked. “Like people who can see ghosts and stuff?”
“Ach, no. That’s typical bigjob thinking. First Sight is when you can see what’s really there, not what your heid tells you ought to be there. Ye saw Jenny, ye saw the horseman, ye saw them as real thingies. Second sight is dull sight, it’s seeing only what you expect to see. Most bigjobs ha’ that. Listen to me, because I’m fadin’ noo and there’s a lot you dinna ken. Ye think this is the whole world? That is a good thought for sheep and mortals who dinna open their eyes. Because in truth there are more worlds than stars in the sky. Understand? They are everywhere, big and small, close as your skin. They are everywhere. Some ye can see an’ some ye canna, but there are doors, Tiffan. They might be a hill or a tree or a stone or a turn in the road, or they might e’en be a thought in yer heid, but they are there, all aroound ye. You’ll have to learn to see ’em, because you walk among them and dinna know it. And some of them…is poisonous.”
The kelda stared at Tiffany for a moment and then continued: “Ye asked why the Quin should take your boy. The Quin likes children. She has none o’ her own. She dotes on them. She’ll give the wee boy everything he wants, too. Only what he wants.”
“He only wants sweets!” said Tiffany.
“Is that so? An’ did ye gi’ them to him?” asked the kelda, as if she was looking into Tiffany’s mind. “But what he needs is love an’ care an’ teachin’ an’ people sayin’ no to him sometimes an’ things o’ that nature. He needs to be growed up strong. He willna get that fra’ the Quin. He willna grow up. He’ll get sweeties. Forever.”
Tiffany wished the kelda would stop looking at her like that. “But I see he has a sister willin’ to take any pains to bring him back,” said the little old woman, taking her eyes away from Tiffany. “What a lucky wee boy he is, to be so fortunate. Ye ken how to be strong, do ye?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Good. D’ye ken how to be weak? Can ye bow to the gale, can ye bend to the storm?” The kelda smiled again. “Nay, ye needna answer that. The wee burdie always has tae leap from the nest to see if it can fly. Anyway, ye have the feel o’ Sarah Aching about ye, and no word e’en o’ mine could turn her once she had set her mind to something. Ye’re no’a woman yet, and that’s no’ bad thing, because where ye’ll be goin’ is easy for children, hard for adults.”
“The world of the Queen?” ventured Tiffany, trying to keep up.
“Aye. I can feel it noo, lyin’ over this one like a fog, as far awa’ as the other side o’ a mirror. I’m weakenin’, Tiffan. I canna defend this place. So here is my bargain, child. I’ll point ye toward the Quin an’, in return, ye’ll tak’ over as kelda.”
That surprised Fion as much as Tiffany. Her head shot up sharply and her mouth opened, but the kelda had raised a wrinkled hand.
“When ye are a kelda somewhere, my girl, ye’ll expect people to do your biddin’. So dinna give me the argument. That’s my offer, Tiffan. Ye won’t get a better.”
“But she canna—” Fion began.
“Can she not?” said the kelda.
“She’s nae a pictsie, mother!”
“She’s a bit on the large side, aye,” said the kelda. “Dinna fret, Tiffan. It willna be for long. I just need ye to mind things for a wee while. Mind the land like yer granny did, and mind my boys. Then when yer wee boy is back home, Hamish’ll fly up to the mountains and let it be known that the Chalk Hill clan has want o’ a kelda. We’ve got a good place here, and the girls’ll come flockin’. What d’ye say?”