Chapter Text

Prologue: Father's Day.

It was the third Sunday of June, Hilda’s least favourite day of the year. Despite the cloudless blue sky and the Sun beaming down onto the Sparrow Scout Lodge, Trollberg's resident adventurer wore a look similar to the one that graced her face whenever she faced a question about long division in school as she got out of her mother’s car. Even her Deerfox, Twig, seemed down despite usually being as eager to face the day as much as his owner, sitting next to Hilda with his ears drooped. Sitting on the painted stumps next to the Lodge, David and Frida shot each other looks as Hilda spoke to Johanna in the driver's seat.

‘Have fun, love! I’ll see you back here at three, alright?’

‘Mm-hmm’ Hilda responded, gripping the top of the paper bag that contained her cucumber sandwiches tightly. Johanna studied her for a moment, as always unsure of what to say. She knew why Hilda detested the third Sunday of June, but yet again stopped herself from trying to pry into the reason for her daughter's mood. The last thing she wanted was a shouting match in front of everyone. Hilda stayed for a moment, hoping for the opposite, that her mother would finally get the courage to ask what was wrong. Eventually, she realised that just like all the other Sundays, she was wasting her time hoping.

‘Bye’ she said simply, shutting the door and walking over to David and Frida with Twig. Johanna watched her in the rear-view mirror, again feeling the massive pang of guilt she always felt whenever she let Hilda down like this, before quietly reversing and leaving the Lodge. Hilda sat down next to her friends, trying her best to make it seem there was nothing wrong, but she failed miserably.

‘Are you alright?’ David asked, ‘Get some bad news?’ as Hilda’s eyes flitted to the card he was holding in his hands. She shook her head as Frida scratched Twig on the nose, the Deerfox rolling over for a belly rub.

‘No, who’s the card for?’ she asked forcefully, again keeping up the facade that everything was normal and that she wasn’t imagining several different lines she could use in an imaginary argument against her mother. David gripped the card awkwardly, looking down at it and then back to Hilda, grinning nervously.

‘Oh, it’s..uh..a father’s day card!’ he responded, turning it to face her. Hilda spared it a glance but found its showy font along with the picture of a superhero flying through the air only made her blood boil. David turned the card back around as quickly as he had shown it to her, seeing the disgruntlement quickly turn to a little bit of anger on his friend's face. Frida noticed this too and decided to very quickly move things along. It was obvious now, Hilda despised Father’s Day. 

‘So, will we get down to business?’ Frida asked, pulling a binder out from under her arm. Hilda nodded, standing up as Twig nuzzled up to David’s hand, sniffing at the card.

‘I was wondering why we were sitting around for so long,’ Hilda replied wryly, poking fun at the fact that Frida never let them sit down. However, Frida also noticed a slight bit of impatience in her friend's voice, almost as if Hilda wanted the day to be over with as soon as possible.

‘Twig’s demanding’ she said finally, coaxing a laugh from her familiar as the Deerfox licked David’s hand impatiently, obviously not satisfied with the scratches he had gotten from Frida, ‘We're going to be putting up posters for the Bird Parade, the group that comes back with the most pictures gets this big box of chocolates too!’ 

‘Oh, must have missed that..at least you'll be more motivated, David!’ Hilda chuckled, trying to hide her melancholy as they made their way out the front gate. David grinned, but he and Frida exchanged glances as they turned towards the bus stop. Once they reached it, however, they saw that Hilda had faltered behind them.

‘..I don’t suppose we could walk..?’ she suggested once she had caught up again trying very hard to make it seem nothing was wrong.

‘Oh, well, all the areas around here have probably been done already..’ Frida replied, ‘Are you sure you’re alright, Hilda? If you want to walk and clear your head about something we can!’

‘No no it’s fine..’ Hilda breathed quickly as a bus came around the corner behind them, exactly on time according to Frida’s binder. Hopping on board, Hilda offered David the window seat while holding Twig. Her friend looked at her, surprised as they steadied themselves when the bus began to move.

‘I thought you liked seeing the sights?’ he asked, taking her offer and sitting down next to the window as Frida sat behind them, studying the back of Hilda’s blue head worriedly. Hilda nodded but didn’t immediately answer why she had given him the seat, pulling a nail file out of her pocket which Twig noticed immediately and tried squirming over to David.

‘Come on boy..you’re putting holes in my duvet!’ Hilda muttered, holding Twig to her as she went at his antlers, ‘I suppose it isn’t fair always having the window seat’ she then replied, not looking up from her work. 

David nodded, again shooting Frida a glance as the bus rolled on through Trollberg. It soon became very obvious why Hilda had offered him the seat; there were ads for Fathers Day plastered all over the city, from shop windows to every bus stop that they pulled over at. Once done with Twig, Hilda’s eyes remained firmly on the back of the old woman’s head in front of her, before she got off and Hilda was greeted by a large billboard of a family having a meal prepared for the father. At the sight of the family eating happily, Hilda sniffled and Twig licked at the sides of her face.

‘Twig..’ Hilda muttered, before raising her voice to normal volume quickly as if she had noticed David and Frida looking at her, ‘You got a hair in my eye!’ she exclaimed, rubbing at them frantically, ‘There, it’s gone now..’ she said before Frida could ask what was wrong. Indeed, they had rounded a corner and the billboard of the family of four was out of sight. After running another gauntlet of ads, the Trio deemed they had gone far enough and Hilda pulled out some Sun Cream for herself and David, squirting some on his hands.

‘Thanks..I burn up way too easily..the Summers get so hot now I'm worried I'll melt.’ he muttered. While Hilda chuckled, a glumness still clinging to it, Frida stood aside and watched the people coming up and down the road. Hilda’s attitude had her noticing things, in particular the families walking about. Some carried beach gear, some didn't, just walking, talking and laughing. But nearly all of them had a Father with them, with a child on their shoulders or holding their hand..

Blinking, Frida noticed Hilda was also watching this, with an increasing despair on her face. Quickly, she pulled a reef of posters from the binder, pushing them into Hilda’s hands.

‘Alright..How's about we split up? I'll head up this way and you two head down there, then we'll meet in the middle!’ Frida suggested. Again, unusually, Hilda and David nodded silently. They would often have their own input, but in David's case there was something more important at hand as Frida’s gaze met his.

‘Look after her’

So David and Hilda quietly went one way while Frida went the other. As they picked through the lampposts one by one, David tried to make conversation but it slowly became clear that Hilda wasn't in the mood, as Twig hung close to her while they made their way down the street. Still, David didn't back down.

‘Do you want to come by my place with Frida later?’ David asked, being genuine. Hilda exhaled, stapling another poster to the back and front of a lamppost.

‘Won't you be busy?’ She said simply, ‘With your Dad and all?’ but David shook his head at this, coming to one of Trollberg’s community billboards. 

‘No, we..um..usually just have a nice lunch,’ he explained, popping open the glass door to put a couple of posters inside. He saw Hilda nod in the reflection behind him, wipe her eyes and move to continue on when she froze. 

‘What's up?’ David asked, looking about to try and see what Hilda had seen, but his friend pushed past him to look at a picture on the billboard. Naturally, it was full of drawings celebrating Father's Day, but one crude drawing had caught Hilda’s eye in particular. 

It was a picture of a family, but a family of three this time and it also didn't take David long to notice that the creator, aged 5, had coloured in the hair with blue crayon. He quickly looked to Hilda, and saw the glum mask she wore had quickly slipped to reveal just how emotional she was getting. Hilda sniffled and David placed a hand on her shoulder instinctively.

‘Hilda..?,’ he asked, the girl snapping out of the trance she was in near-instantly.

‘It's nothing..,’ Hilda muttered bitterly, brushing his hand off her shoulder. As she returned the picture, David was undeterred, but before he could press further, he picked up on a gaggle of voices coming towards them. Voices that he knew all too well.

‘Here comes Trevor,’ he whispered to Hilda, which caused an ugly scowl to appear as the boy and his posse rounded the corner, laughing. One of his friends, Louis, spied the poster Hilda had just put up and tore it from the lampost, laughing.

‘Hey!’ Hilda exclaimed, ‘We're doing something here, leave us alone!’

‘Why would we do that? It would ruin our game!’ The boy grinned, thumbing to Olivia, the girl with overgrown sleeves, who held up a bit of paper wickedly.

‘We're taking scores! Whoever tears down the most posters wins!’ She snickered, marking down Louis’ gain as Trevor opened up the notice board and yanked the posters David had put in, which also pulled free the Father's day drawings. Incensed, Hilda stepped forward and trapped Trevors arm in the door, but not pushing hard in case it hurt him. While telling on his group for pulling down posters probably wouldn't do much, being told on for hurting others in Sparrow Scout uniform would probably get her in trouble.

‘Oh, what? Have I upset you, weirdo?’ Trevor said coldly, trying to tug his arm free with little success. This time, however, Hilda had a come back in store.

‘Who says I'm the weirdo? You're the one who talks to birds!’ She shot back, hitting him with a smirk. Trevor's gang and David couldn't help but giggle at the remark, the posse never having bought his story about the Raven and Trevor shot Hilda a furious expression. His friends had only just stopped making fun of him for it and now this blue haired freak had gone and pulled it up again. 

Glancing aside from Hilda temporarily, Trevor noticed the drawing of the blue haired family and grabbed it from within. Then, with enough force, he managed to get his arm free with the picture in hand, as Hilda was still conscious about getting in trouble for accidentally hurting him.

‘What's this?’ He asked, a wicked grin on his face as he flipped the picture around to show Hilda and David, who felt his stomach lurch suddenly, as if something was about to happen that he couldn't stop. Up the road, Frida turned from the last lamppost on feeling a..sort of shift, as if something wasn't right. Peering down towards the end of the road, her eyes went wide and she rushed back towards her friends.

‘Just a father's day picture, what about it?’ Hilda said shortly, hoping her face wasn't showing her emotion. Trevor flipped it around and laughed, nodding towards another of his friends, Ibrahim, the tawny, portly boy with glasses and a white hat.

‘Ib shows us your drawings in school, they look just as bad as this one!’ Trevor laughed, seeing he had hit a nerve as Hilda’s face contorted angrily. Looking at the picture again, he saw it was only three people rather than four and Trevor decided to punch a little deeper, hoping that the more he antagonised Hilda, the more likely she'd do something that would make everyone forget about this stupid bird thing.

‘Ha! Maybe you did do this one! After all, who would colour in their family with blue hair except you, weirdo? Do you even have a Dad?’ Trevor laughed again and seeing Hilda shake a little, David knew he couldn't stand aside anymore. Hilda was having a bad day as it was, she didn't need to deal with whatever insults Trevor had in store for her.

‘Hey! That's low-!’ David began when Hilda put an arm across him and got up in Trevor’s face, the anger obvious in hers as she jabbed a finger to his chest.

‘Shut up! I don't see your Dad around either!’ Hilda bit back, taking the argument into personal territory as David turned to see Frida skid to a halt behind them, breathless and a few posters blowing in the breeze behind her. 

‘Hilda-!’ She tried desperately as Trevor pushed Hilda away, an equally emotional anger on his face which he hid quickly, almost as if he had done it before..

‘My Dad's a busy guy, he's out of the City a lot! At least I get to see him, unlike you! Your Dad probably saw you come out with blue hair and left, cause who would want to raise a blue haired loser like you!?’ 

‘Stop it! That's enough-!’ Frida interjected, trying to get in between them but was stopped momentarily by Louis throwing the crumpled up poster at her, which struck Frida painfully on the side of her head.

‘Stay out if it nerd!’ He exclaimed, seeming as if he was thoroughly enjoying the scene alongside the others as Trevor went in for another cruel remark, now thoroughly fueled with his own hatred for Hilda.

‘Yeah, that's right! Your Dad probably hates you! Hates you and your stupid Mum too!’ Trevor sneered. Frida again tried desperately to step in between them, but Hilda acted first before David was able to put a hand on her shoulder to try and stop her.

In an instant, Trevor went from smiling arrogantly to flat on his backside, totally dazed. Hilda had hit him right in the mouth, and already Trevor’s lip was swollen and bleeding, a bruise forming right beneath his eye. As the bully struggled to not burst out in tears before his friends, Hilda looked at him, her fist then at her friends before she let out a loud sob and took off up the road, followed by Twig. David and Frida were forced to follow, away from the sounds of angry jeers from Trevor and his Posse. 

Hilda had the distance on them though, and once they came to the top of the road, she had vanished alongside Twig. Forced to pause, David and Frida stood catching their breath once they saw that Trevor's gang had disappeared as well. Wiping some sweat from his brow, David rested his head against the brick wall, looking at Frida.

‘I..I should've tried to-to get her away..I'm sorry..’ David breathed, slumping against the wall.

‘It's ok..’ Frida breathed, walking over and sitting down next to him, knowing that conflict resolution wasn't exactly David's strong suit, ‘I don't think we'll get into trouble with Sparrow Scouts either..knowing Trevor, he won't want anyone knowing a girl did that to him!’ 

‘Yeah..maybe..!’ David chuckled, wiping a tear from his eye, ‘But Hilda..I'd always noticed her Dad wasn't around b-but I didn't think it hurt that much..’

‘I know..Mum sometimes says things about Johanna being single, but I never really noticed myself. Hilda's never brought it up and it's not our business either..’

‘It kind of is now..’ David muttered, getting to his feet and helping Frida to hers, ‘I'd asked if she wanted to come over later..but I don't see that happening now, how about you come by and we can think of an “action plan” to talk about it with her?’ David suggested.

A smile fluttered across Frida’s face at the idea but was gone instantly as she looked about the roads, as if looking for a glimpse of Hilda. David knew she didn't want to leave Hilda in the state she was in and he felt the same way, but felt it wouldn't do any good to try and track her down.

‘I think she needs some privacy Frida..her Mum will be at her place and so will Alfur and Tontu!’ 

‘Yeah..I guess..,’ Frida murmured, hugging her binder as herself and David began to drift off elsewhere, ‘I'll still call her later, just to see how she's doing, she is my familiar after all!’ 

‘That's an idea..how about we do our best to get that box of chocolates too? Doubt Trevor will be doing much after that experience!’

Frida laughed quietly and nodded, but still looked behind her as they set off for another road. She was still reluctant to leave Hilda behind, as elsewhere the Adventurer tore towards her home, wrought with countless emotions, coughing angrily and tortured by the past she didn't know.

Chapter Text

Johanna sipped her tea and remained utterly still at the kitchen table. She should be tackling her commissions, but so far she had found it difficult to take her eyes off of the clock since getting home. Father's day haunted her perhaps not as much as it haunted Hilda, but as much as Johanna would want to forget him, the man had taken from her someone so precious that it made him impossible to bury.

It had been the same song and nace for the past few years now. Hilda would go out doing something, hoping her Mum would tell her something when she came back only to find her silent, imprisoned by her guilt. Her guilt of failing to stop her old partner, as the child's cries circled around her head mercilessly.

‘MAMA! MAMA!’

Every year, Hilda’s patience waned further and her resentment grew just a little more. The more time she wasted, Johanna knew that she just might lose her too, and she'd only have herself to blame…

Gripping her mug tightly, Johanna managed to unglue herself from the seat, having had a thought. Perhaps, she reasoned, something of Hilda’s would be able to help, something that the girl would easily consider her most valuable possession; a simple photograph.

Stepping inside Hilda’s room, Johanna exhaled as she looked about at the unmade bed and clothes scattered about the place. Smiling slightly, Johanna was surprised just how much Hilda had turned out like her.

Of course, she had only ever had her influence, even when her Father was still around.

Eyeing the top drawer of Hilda’s bedside, Johanna set her tea down on the desk and herself on the bed before she tried to pull it open. Locked, obviously. Chewing her cheek, Johanna knew she could only blame herself for that one; she had literally pointed out the feature to Hilda when they'd been out shopping for one.

‘You can keep all your little secrets in there!’ She'd laughed, pinching her daughter's cheek.

She had always told herself she wouldn't care if her child kept secrets, but having been a Mum for twelve years and with Hilda specifically, Johanna now knew why most liked their children to be open with them. Gently, she began to uncomfortably poke around Hilda's things on her desk, looking for the key when a small cough interrupted her.

‘Ah-hem?,’ a minute, disapproving voice came from the shelf above her.

‘Oh, Alfur! I..I was just looking for something here!’ Johanna said as casually as she could, but the Elf looked uncharacteristically miffed, stepping out of his home and shutting the door after him.

‘You're looking for the key to her bedside, hm?’ He asked rhetorically and Johanna’s eyes flitted to him, already knowing the answer before she sighed and sat down in Hilda’s chair, looking up at the Elf, almost pleading.

‘There's just something I want to look at in there..!’

‘Hilda had figured, that's why she made me sign a contract to look after the key for her. Personally, I didn't think you'd come looking, mainly because Hilda didn't either!’ Alfur explained, sitting down on the shelf with his legs over the side. Johanna looked away, knowing she had been put on the spot and rightfully so. Hilda trusted her to not to be nosy, seemingly only motivated by angst rather than genuine worry.

‘Did she tell you what's in there?’ She asked Alfur and the Elf shook his head, getting up to pace the shelf as Johanna stayed silent, trying to come up with anything that would let her see the photo, but not torpedoing Hilda’s friendship with Alfur in the process.

‘What if I told you what I was looking for? Tried to make you understand?’ Johanna suggested and while it was clear the Elf was moved, he once again shook his head and Johanna’s shoulders sagged in defeat. Alfur looked at her again, before he scuttled over to directly in front of her where he sat back down and swung his legs aimlessly for a moment.

‘If you told me what's in the drawer..you wouldn't be telling me anything Hilda deserves to know first?’ He asked. Johanna shook her head, sipping her tea, so Alfur nodded for an explanation.

‘But!’ He added quickly as Johanna opened her mouth, ‘That doesn't mean I'll be giving you the key!’

Johanna closed her mouth and had to look away to hide the scowl on her face. Once she'd gotten a hold of herself, she looked back up at Alfur, stone faced.

‘Why should I tell you anything then?’ She asked coolly but the Elf remained undeterred, having resumed pacing the shelf. He may not be able to give Johanna what she wanted, but figured that, perhaps, he could help some other way.

‘I mean..if you talk about it now, maybe it will make it easier to talk to Hilda?’ Alfur suggested softly. Johanna exhaled through her nostrils, unwilling to confront the mountain of guilt that had built up over the past ten years. But Alfurs words spurred her on, encouraging and non-judgemental, for the time being at least. Johanna felt his mood might change once he learned how badly she'd failed at protecting her family.

But if it helped her finally get the truth out..

‘I..I guess I could give that a try,’ She murmured.

‘That's the spirit!’ Alfur gleed, his high spirits making Johanna smile briefly before she looked at Hilda’s bedside again. She thought about making sure Alfur wasn't bluffing about not knowing, but decided against it. She knew that it would just be her pushing off the inevitable again.

‘So..inside is a photo..’ Johanna began, ‘It's important to us both but I don't know if-if Hilda sees it that way herself..not after how I treated it when she found it the first time..it's o-of..of our family..,’ she continued, quickly losing grip of her emotions towards the end.

Alfur nodded solemnly as Johanna took a break, having noted Hilda’s lack of a Father since, well, ever. Plus, Hilda had been in a mood all morning, having begrudgingly told Alfur it was Father's Day before leaving for Sparrows.

‘Oh..that would explain her mood this morning alright. I..I can kind of sympathise with her there..’ He murmured and Johanna frowned, brow furrowed in concern. She had always thought it was strange that Alfur had packed up and left the Elf lands so quickly, as if he had no one to say goodbye to.

‘Would you like to talk about it?’ She asked but Elf shook his head after a moment's consideration, as stone faced as she had been a minute ago.

‘This is about you and Hilda, not me..not right now anyway..,’ Alfur muttered, leaving the idea open. But Johanna leaned back in her chair, arms crossed and one leg over the other. Alfur had managed pull words from her that she had only dreamed of explaining, she didn't want to leave him feeling like she had

‘That doesn't-,’ Johanna started when the sound of the front door flying open and slamming against the wall made them both jump. The sound of Hilda’s boots then came clumsily along the floor but what Joahnna noticed immediately was the sobs. On her feet in an instant, she stepped out to see Hilda rush past her and collapse onto her bed. Johanna paused looking at her, recalling only twice when she had seen her daughter so emotional. The most recent was when Twig had run off, but the time before that…

Johanna got a hold of herself and was by Hilda’s side in moments, the guilt pulsating through her like never before as the tormented girl clutched her Deerfox. Stroking her hair, Johanna began to pry away gently, as gently as she could anyway, given she was still prepping the emotional roller coaster to come.

‘Sweetheart, sweetheart..what happened?’ she pressed, though she felt she already knew the answer as Hilda sat up and dove into a hug despite her current mood with her Mum. She just wanted somewhere to hide from it all and there was nowhere better than her Mum's jumper. Slowly, Hilda’s cries slowed with great heaves of breath in between as her Mum consoled her gently, whispering all the condolences she could into Hilda’s brow.

‘I..I..hit someone, Tr-Trevor from school..,’ Hilda sniffled and Johanna tensed, having heard of Hilda’s experiences with this boy before. She had just told her to stay away from him, but it seemed she came across him often enough regardless while out and about. Just as she was about to ask again, Hilda began to explain in between renewed sobs.

‘He-He and his friends were-were tearing down p-posters..then w-we got into an-an argument about..about Dads..’

She looked up at her Mum and Johanna, lost for words, gazed back into her eyes, which were shimmering with tears. Hilda wiped them fruitlessly before she struggled to continue, hiccuping and coughing angrily. Johanna reached over and grabbed an old glass of water from the bedside, which Hilda took gratefully, gulping it down in one go.

‘He..He said that..that D-Dad hated me!!,’ Hilda sniffed and Johanna went pale, stunned any child could say something so cruel. But again, though she tried desperately, she couldn't find the words. In the mess of memories surfacing from the depths of her mind, Johanna knew that from what she could make out, telling Hilda anything otherwise would be a lie.

She gripped her knees, looking up at her daughter to see the look of desperate hope slowly draining away into one of despair. Johanna couldn't bear it, she had to say something, anything.

‘Hate is..is a strong word..’ she began but it was a terrible opening, something Johanna quickly realised as Hilda descended into a mountain of blubbering sobs. Crying incoherently, Hilda then went for her bedside, seemingly forgetting about the key when she froze. Looking back at her Mum, the warm tears still flowed but the tone Hilda spoke with was one of ice.

‘..What were you doing in my room?’

Johanna looked away despite every fibre of her being telling her not to. By the time she looked back, Hilda had turned around and the deep breaths indicated that she was trying very hard not to lash out.

‘I..I was going to tell you everything, really Hilda, I was! I..I just thought looking at the photo would-!’

‘Get out,’ Hilda hissed, her tone filled with barely contained anger, ‘Get out now!’

‘Hilda, please-!!’ Johanna begged but it was fruitless. Like lightning, Hilda tugged off one of her boots and threw it at her Mum. Johanna narrowly dodged, moving from the bed and spinning back around to implore Hilda to listen. But the other boot was at the ready along with a boatload of hurtful feelings that she was ready to spill.

‘GET OUT!’ Hilda screamed, ‘GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!!,’ the tears escaping before she flung the other boot full force at her Mum's head. Johanna barely managed to pull the door shut, hearing the shoe slam into it at what felt like a hundred kilometres an hour. She slumped down against it, her emotions crumbling as she gripped her hair and her old partner's voice mocked her relentlessly.

‘You can't do anything now!’

Alfur watched in stunned silence as Hilda stood there, arm still across her chest from throwing the boot. After a minute, she threw herself onto her bed, face down and slamming her fists into the mattress, sobs muffled by her pillow. A part of Alfur said to give her space, that this wasn't his business to be getting involved with but the Elf knew he just couldn't leave her like this. So he made his way down the string of fairy lights and sat at the edge of Hilda’s desk. The girl spotted him and sat up, the anger stubbornly sticking to her expression.

‘She told you everything, didn't she?’ Hilda hissed, rolling her eyes when Alfur shook his head. She knew from being grounded that the Elf was more than willing to work with her Mum behind her back. She flopped back down onto the bed and turned away, arms crossed as her emotions buckled once more.

‘She didn't tell me anything!’ Alfur pleaded, ‘If anything I was trying to work her towards telling you-!’

‘She wouldn't have told me anything!,’ Hilda exclaimed, kicking the wall in frustration. Outside, Alfur heard Johanna move from the door, her own cries fading away towards the kitchen. He couldn't stand this, he hated when Hilda and Johanna argued and was often quietly frustrated that they just couldn't be fully open with one another. It reminded him all too much of when he had been young, but unlike then, now he wasn't powerless. He would help get them to the bottom of this; after all, he was like family to Hilda, she had said it as much.

‘Do you think you could show me this photo?’ Alfur pressed, hopping onto the pillow and making his way into Hilda’s fringe. The girl snorted in response, not in the mood to go digging through her old memories and still miffed at him regardless. Alfur pushed on, coming down from Hilda’s fringe and sitting in front of her eye.

‘Hilda..I want to help you both, really I do! I can help you convince your Mum to talk about this, I'll even forfeit any contracts she's signed with me!’

Hilda would be lying if she said she wasn't moved by his words, as she rolled over flat onto her back and Alfur lay down on the pillow beside her. However, a feeling of reluctance filled Hilda as she glanced at him. Sure, every Father's day ended with her being miserable but Hilda had always been lifted by the hope that perhaps one day he would come home. He would say something about how he'd lived with the guilt for too long, that he loved her even if her Mum didn't love him anymore. She could visit him then, in his own little place and maybe one day her Mum would follow her and they could all come back home as a reunited family.

But her Mum's words had changed that. Hilda didn't know what to think anymore, couldn't understand what was meant by hate being a “strong word”. Had her Dad just..disliked her? What could she have possibly done, she had been so young when he left that she couldn’t even picture him. All of it meant the happy fantasies were draining away, replaced by a bitter feeling of uncertainty and resentment at her Mum for keeping the truth for so long.

‘Hilda..do you want a tissue?’

She sat up with a start, hands flat on the mattress to see that Alfur was back up on her desk and had brought over a pack of tissues. Hilda nodded quietly, took a handful and blew her nose. Twig came over and curled up next to her, Hilda patting his white fur and feeling ever so slightly better. Looking back up at Alfur’s kind face, she nodded towards his home above them.

‘Can..Can you grab the key? I'll show you the photo..’ Hilda murmured, brushing her fringe out of her hair. The Elf was halfway up the fairy lights by the time she had finished speaking and had the key when she looked back up at him. Dropping it onto the table at Hilda’s nod; outside, Johanna heard and looked up from her untouched cup of tea she'd been crying into. Staring back into the drink, she held her head in her hands, trying to build up determination to go in there and sit Hilda down, but couldn't. It made her feel like a failure, the exact failure her old partner had accused her of being.

‘I'm just useless..’ she sniffed, when someone cleared their throat next to her. Looking up, Johanna found Tontu ready to assure as inside, Hilda rummaged through her top drawer.

Alfur could make out her old journals, stained, torn and dirty from the cabin as well as some rather unique rocks. Hilda’s brow furrowed as she looked about, before she paused and went to one of the journals. Untying it's cover, she flicked through ripped and stained pages before finding what she was looking for. Slotted in between the pages was a photograph, yellowed and with one of its top corners ripped away.

Hilda took it gingerly and flopped onto her bed, allowing Alfur to study it silently. He quickly noticed a younger Johanna, cradling a young Hilda in one arm, judging by her clothes. Alfur had to stifle a laugh, it looked like Hilda hadn’t been in the mood when the photo was taken.

Johanna had her other arm around someone else; Hilda’s Father. His head was missing, perhaps traces of a beard peeking out from beneath the tear but that was all. He had clearly been well built, with powerful, hairy arms. Even in the photos weathered state, Alfur could see that it was black, a colour that he shared with the other child sat on his lap-

Alfur stopped himself and peered closer at the picture again, steading himself as Hilda wiped her nose. Blinking, he finally realised he wasn't dreaming. Hilda’s Father was holding another child, a child that Alfur had never heard Hilda nor Johanna talk about and it all suddenly made so much more sense.

‘Hilda..who are they..?’ Alfur asked gently, looking up at her. She gripped the photo tightly, tears bulging from her eyes as she murmured the words she had never, ever, been allowed to say since the day she found the photograph by accident

‘He's my brother…’

Chapter Text

‘..So..this is about the brother, huh? ’ Tontu asked Johanna out in the kitchen. She nodded, dabbing at her eyes with little affect and looking away briefly. Tontu had managed to prise an explanation of what had just happened, a miracle considering the showdown that she’d just had with Hilda.

‘Yes..I-I have a son..t-the sweetest little thing..!,’ Johanna sniffed before she leaned back and wiped her eyes once more, ‘..His name is Harry-’

She stopped and looked at Tontu again, fully absorbing what the Nisse had said at first. He had.. known about Harry? The Nisse stared back, expression unreadable because of all the fur but Johanna could tell he was nervous from the way his tail swung back and forward behind him. 

‘Hilda told you at some point, didn’t she?,’ she asked and the house-spirit nodded slowly, looking down at the table and gripping its edge tightly.

‘Uh..I think it was this day last year..I saw Hilda was kinda upset at something. It was just after the whole thing with the Black Hound, so I thought she was still dealing with it,’ Tontu began as Johanna nodded slowly, ‘She’d only tell me what was wrong in the nowhere space though..so I let her in and she started talking..’

‘..talking about Harry..,’ Johanna sighed, hiccupping slightly, ‘All this is my fault..she doesn’t ask me because..because she feels she can’t.. n-not after how I treated her when s-she found the photo…’

“...over and over, and over again! Every December you’ll hear it and say..” the radio sang as she studied the mince pies while they cooked away in the oven. The smell had Hilda almost on her knees begging for her to take them from the oven, but her Aunt Astrid’s recipe always called for them to be slightly burned. 

So she'd told her daughter to go focus on something else, a task made all the more difficult by the blizzard outside. Evidently though, Hilda didn't seem to mind as she turned at the sound of the girl's winter boots, which echoed down the stairs. She intercepted and blocked both the girl and Deerfox from the front door. 

‘Hey! I want to play outside!’ She huffed, ‘You told me to focus on something else!’

‘I meant something else in here, sweetheart! If you go out there, you'll get so cold your fingers might fall off! We can't have that can we?’ She chuckled, going to pat her head but Hilda intercepted and held her hand in place.

‘You can't just kiss them better..?’ she asked innocently.

‘Oh, well..it would take a lot of kisses and the mince pies would be all burned! Now..hm..what's that in the corner? Do you see?’ She asked and crouched down next to her. Hilda peered at the corner then back to her, confused.

‘What is it?’

‘An invisible troll! Quick, you'll have to run around the house to distract it or it will steal the pies!’ She grinned and Hilda’s eyes lit up at the idea. She laughed and ran off with Twig back up the stairs. As she gave herself a pat on the back for that one, she returned to the oven as the song played out.

‘Always one of my favourites!’ The host gleed, ‘Now..we got some well-wishes here from our listeners, let's start with Harry here-’

She'd turned off the radio the moment she heard his name. She had been quietly finding the day hard enough, having let a few tears escape whenever Hilda wasn’t in the room. A part of her desperately wanted to believe that somewhere, Harry was happy but her blood chilled when she remembered the look on his Father’s face. The last she’d ever seen of her partner was a man she hadn’t recognised, a man who had only ever seen her as a means to an end-

‘Mum! Mum look!’

She’d snapped back into reality to see Hilda stumble towards her with a wide grin. At first, she’d taken shelter in her smile, just like she had done during those slow, awful days after Harry had been snatched from her. Then she saw the photograph in her daughter's eager hands. 

‘It’s Harry!’ Hilda said, delighted as she waved the photo before her. She’d turned away instantly, unable to look her infant son in the eyes. And inside, the pain and resentment bubbled, her anger at herself for not being able to protect him. And then Hilda had started with the questions. Where was Harry now? Why didn’t she talk about him? What about her Dad–?

‘Enough, Hilda..I said ENOUGH!’ she’d shouted. The child had taken a step back, her mood completely deflated by the reaction before it turned completely when she’d snatched the photo from her daughter's hands.

‘Hey-!’

‘Where did you even get this!?’ she’d snapped back. The guilt and anger had taken full control now. 

‘Y-Your room-!’ Hilda stammered out, 'I-I was hiding from the T-Troll under your b-bed and-!'

‘-You’re not to go into my room, Hilda!!,' she cut in angrily, as the girl trembled under her furious expression.

‘Ok ok! B-But what about my brother-!?’

‘IT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR BROTHER!!’ she’d shouted again and her outburst had caused a stray tear to roll down Hilda’s face as she’d slammed the photo face down on the counter.

‘But..M-Mum..!’

‘GO TO YOUR ROOM! NOW!’ She’d demanded and the girl had fled before her, with the sobs being what finally shook her from the grip of her guilt. But it was too late to make amends now, as Hilda’s bedroom door slammed shut, reverberating around the house.

Hilda hadn’t come down for her dinner or the mince pies that she had craved. Instead, she’d found her curled up on her bed when she’d dared to crack open her bedroom door a couple of hours later.

After a tearful and angry conversation, she’d let her keep the photo in return for her forgiveness. But when Hilda pressed the family issue again, she just couldn’t find the will to explain, still too tortured to sift through her guilt. Instead, sat on the end of her bed and staring away from her, she’d made a promise to her.

‘Someday..I-I don’t know when but you’ll know one day sweetheart…’ 

‘...It could still be that day’ Tontu said, back in the present, ‘You don’t have to leave it off like this, you know,’ he encouraged, though Johanna continued to stare into her cup of peppermint tea in despair, fists clenched on the table. Her self-loathing stood in a way like a brick wall, having survived repeated attempts to break through and been reinforced by the nights she’d spent crying herself to sleep over it. 

‘Mum. Hey, Mum!’

She sat straight up, startled and gripping the table to find Hilda standing in her doorway. Eyes red, puffy and unimpressed, she stood with the photo clutched by her side. The girl bitterly jerked her head inside her room, pushing the door open to re-enter as she did. 

‘Alfur’s talked me into giving you one last chance’ she muttered, before she disappeared inside. Johanna inhaled and exhaled, glancing at Tontu. Somewhere under there, she could tell that the Nisse was staring back at her as Hilda could be heard flopping back onto her bed. The seconds ticked by slowly, as inside the girl counted down the couple of minutes she would give her Mum. Ten seconds, twenty, then forty. Just as she reached the fifty second mark, the bedroom door swung open. Her Mum flicked on the light and approached slowly, eyes darting to her bed but Hilda nodded at the chair instead. Johanna sat down and turned it towards her, wringing her hands before she took a breath and looked Hilda in the eye.

‘I’m going to tell you everything..I promised you that, just..I can’t promise if I can stay composed’

‘That’s fine’ Hilda breathed, hardly remaining composed herself as she sat up and swung her legs aimlessly for a moment, gripping the mattress before she stared back up at her Mum.

‘Tell me about Harry’

She relished those words, though the minutes that came after them dragged on. At first Johanna just sat there, mouthing air without realising it before she paused to massage her forehead. Then she seemed to gather her resolve, before she opened her mouth and no sound came out. As the seconds slipped by, Hilda found herself becoming increasingly impatient, but forced herself to remain calm. Her Mum genuinely wanted to tell her. Hilda wasn’t about to chase her off when they were so close.

She glanced quickly at the photo to her left, and picked it up. Prodding her Mum with it, Johanna took it gingerly and Hilda hoped it would encourage her. Yet, Johanna still couldn’t say anything, her guilt having vice-grip on her vocal cords. As the silence stretched on, Hilda realised she’d have to speak up. She didn’t want to, because she wasn’t sure if she could leash her anger.

Because she still wanted to be angry. Felt it was her right to be after having the truth kept from her for so long. Yet they weren't even a minute in and her Mum was crying like she had never cried before, so she took a breath to steady herself before she reached up and took her Mum’s hand. 'Mum..please..you can do this, y-you can do it for Harry!,’ Hilda encouraged, surprised at how much emotion appeared in her voice, while the anger began to fade. Johanna stared back for a moment, then nodded and placed the photo flat on Hilda’s desk. Squeezing her daughter’s hand, who in those dark, dark days had been the only thing keeping her going, Johanna finally mustered up some words.

‘Harry was..was such a sweet boy..!,’ Johanna sniffed as Hilda hung on to every word, ‘I..I could n-never take my eyes off either of y-you! Not..Not even for a-a minute!’ She explained, before the sniffling turned to sobbing once more. But it was a start, and while Hilda wanted to give her time, she didn’t want to be drip-fed information either.

‘We..We got on?’ Hilda asked, forcing herself to wade through her Mum’s emotions, though some guilt remained in her hoarse voice. Her Mother laughed, or choked on her tears, the girl found it hard to tell.

‘Yes..Yes you did..you'd babble away to-to each other. It-It wasn't words really..just baby speak but it-it always made me l-laugh!’ Johanna explained, a thin smile on her face and Hilda allowed her to ruffle her hair gently. She remained quiet for a moment, allowing her Mum some time before her next question.

‘And..And what would we get up to?’

‘Oh..t-the usual baby things..’ her Mum mused tearfully, taking some tissues from the desk but also leaving Hilda none the wiser.

‘Like..?’

‘Throwing food at-at each other..taking each other's things..sp-splashing in the bath, that sort of-oh! Wait!’ Johanna grinned, a previously forgotten, happy memory poking out from the abyss of torment. Hilda forced herself to wait patiently again, as her Mum once more made a feeble attempt to dry her eyes to little success.

‘Harry had learned t-to walk before you did..now h-he wasn’t brilliant at it, but when you s-started you..you would fall over all of the t-time! T-Then one day, after you’d fallen o-over, H-Harry took you and..and he led you across the r-room!’ 

‘He helped me to walk!?’ Hilda asked, trying to picture the memory in her mind but coming up blank. Her Mum nodded, blowing her nose once more, before she sighed and held her hand out for Hilda’s. The girl did so, feeling her anger confront her sympathy once more. Her Mum’s expression shifted to a mournful one, as she rubbed her thumb over the back of Hilda’s hand.

‘Sweetheart..what’s y-your oldest memory?’

‘Oh..hm..’ Hilda murmured, brow furrowed in thought. Anything earlier than her fifth birthday was hazy at best, but eventually something came to mind. Once or twice, she’d remembered sitting in her Mum’s arms in an unfamiliar room. It hadn’t been the Cabin, and it couldn’t have been Tofoten since they’d never visited. Her go-to explanation was that it had been a visit to the doctors, but now she wasn’t so sure; the supposed waiting room had been oddly quiet. 

‘You’re holding me..I think we’re at the doctors?’ Hilda half-explained, half-asked. But her Mum just sighed and shook her head bitterly, squeezing her hand a little as she used a finger to stem her tears. The area around her eyes had become sore from all the crying and drying, as she stroked the side of Hilda’s head and put together a stinging revelation.

‘No..No, s-sweetheart, it was-was after H-Harry was taken from us..b-by your Father..’

Chapter Text

Holyhead claimed to be an up and coming tourist destination with a lot to do and a vibrant community that always had its arms open to welcome the travellers coming in on the ferry from Dublin. 

Claimed to be. 

In reality, the radiant sun in the blue cloudless sky similar to Trollberg failed completely to light up the dull town, populated mostly by people either jaded almost entirely with life. Holyhead was like Trollberg but in the bleakest sense, isolated and forgotten about. Those that travelled there only did so out of necessity to grab the ferry that went to and from Dublin, but sometimes one thing would catch their eye. They would be a fleeting sight, only a few had time to blink and look about for him again as the boat pulled away from the grey shore.

A blue haired child, wandering around the town aimlessly. To and fro he would go, past the often empty shop fronts and the small attractions the town tried to advertise. He would wander down to the beach, to the ruined church and the graveyard. Sometimes he would wander into a newsagent to read the articles and then wander back out again. The locals would watch him silently, sometimes speculating as to his goals.

Skinny and pale, this quiet boy who wore ripped jeans that only went down to his ankles, ragged grey cardigan and undone laces was Hilda’s brother Harry, and he had not had a good life.

His and Hilda’s Father was a man called Tadgh. He was still well-built like in the photo Hilda had at home, but had given himself to drinking which had taken some of his good looks. With balding, stone grey hair and patchy stubble, Tadgh wore a constant angry and bitter look on his face. The locals knew to avoid him and Harry did as well, hence why he spent a large part of his day wandering repeatedly around town.

That day, the third Sunday of June, Harry walked in through the back door, forced to finish his wanderings for the day because of his hunger. The front door was always locked and he could never rely on his father to open it, so he would often have to climb over the side gate to get in. Looking about the kitchen cautiously as he entered, Harry strained his ears to try and make out anything else in the house before he dared to breathe.

The home he had known for his whole life was actually in quite good order, albeit quite dusty. Tadgh worked down at the Port, but little of it went towards Harry’s wellbeing, hence the boy's fragile and ragged appearance. He darted over to the fridge and grabbed two slices of bread and cheese. The cheddar had a bit of mould on it but Harry casually tore that piece off and threw it into the bin. It wasn't his first time having to scavenge food like this.

He sat down in the corner and ate his slapdash sandwich quickly, straining his ears still for any sound whatsoever. He had tried many times to memorise his Father’s routine, but Tadgh never stuck to anything. Sometimes he’d be out all day, sometimes he’d never leave the house and sometimes he’d be in and out constantly. His unpredictability meant Harry always had to walk on eggshells, though it never seemed to matter. Tadgh would always appear when he least expected it.

And that’s when the torment would begin.

Harry gulped down the last of his sandwich and remained huddled against the wall for another minute, listening intently. No sound, none whatsoever but the boy’s anxiety kept him from moving. He hated this feeling, never knowing what was going to happen. In particular, not knowing when it would happen. Sometimes the abuse would start when he’d walk in the door, other times when he’d be lying in bed peacefully. Once, during one of the rare days Tadgh had bothered driving him to school, he’d slammed on brakes suddenly. Harry had thankfully had his seatbelt on, but had still hit his head on the front seat. 

‘Annoy me like that again and see what happens,’ was all Tadgh had hissed darkly, never giving the slightest hint about what Harry had done to bother him. 

Finally, Harry prised himself from the wall and dared to root around the fridge again. There wasn’t much, most space being taken up by cans of beer and what food there was had been left well past its use-before date. Harry had to pull his head back for a moment, the scent of rotting cream cheese almost being too much for him. Eventually though, he found some apples left in one of the drawers. To his amazement, they were actually fresh as well, unopened and wet with condensation. 

Eagerly, Harry reached in to grab the packet, but stopped himself just as quickly. Should his Father notice something was amiss, the consequences would be painful and Harry took a step back in fear. He tried to convince himself that he didn’t really need the apple, but his stomach growled in objection. Unable to fight his hunger, Harry took the packet but went about the process carefully. He made an opening, managed to pull an apple out from within and took a couple of small bites. It was enough to satiate his hunger for a time, and the boy shakily returned the apple to the box, its uneaten exterior facing outwards. 

Maybe if he was lucky, he’d be able to nibble away at it again tomorrow, as Harry moved from the fridge and out into the hall. It was a cramped space, the same size and width as the front door. Harry didn’t even have to extend his arms fully to touch both sides, and there were many times that his Father had cornered him here as well. Those memories made Harry quicken his pace, going up the thinly carpeted stairs as he struggled not to trip over his laces. 

Although he now felt easy thinking his Father wasn’t home, Harry strained his ears for any sound coming from the man’s bedroom. Harry had only caught a few accidental glimpses of the inside, much to his own detriment, but he knew it was extremely messy. It was in stark contrast to his own room, sparsely furnished with small windows that barely allowed the Sun through, as if Tadgh wanted no one to know he existed.

Since he was alone for the time being, Harry decided to risk some hobbies. Laying flat on his stomach, the boy pulled a box of crayons out from under his bed. They’d been given to him by his teachers in school, perhaps the only people who had ever cared for him. From within his pillow, Harry took the paper they’d also given him and got to work creating a map.

Harry loved drawing maps, because it could be any shape he wanted it to be. Sometimes he drew islands separated by a vast ocean, other times it was green with squares and circles for settlements. But each and every one of them had one thing in common; a vast and organised transport system. At least, to Harry it was organised. Most people would look at his maps and probably become nauseous trying to figure it out.

As he pondered what to do, at the same time listening out for his Father, Harry decided on something new. He’d make a rail map, and there would be a little logo with a train on the front. For that, Harry decided to use one of the little models he also owned. Their paint chipped from past owners, they’d been given to Harry by a kindly woman in a charity shop. His collection consisted of six; a bus, two cars and the rest trains. 

However, Harry quickly realised that something was amiss. Peering underneath the bed, he saw that only five models were there. A train, the particular train he’d wanted to draw too, was missing and Harry felt a chill go down his spine as he looked about nervously.

His Father had been in here. 

Tadgh wasn’t a stupid man, he knew all the little things that Harry hated and he tormented him for it. For instance, none of the chairs downstairs had pads on the bottom, so Harry was forced to hear the dreaded sound they made against the floor constantly. And then there were the things he’d do to his room. Despite it being Harry’s safe space, it also carried scars of abuse. Tadgh would sometimes come in and pull out all his drawers, drunkenly accusing his son of hiding things from him while Harry sat terrified on his bed. Other times he would tear down the art Harry made and dared to try and put on the wall. But worst was when he would just stand in the doorway, staring at his son with wide, malicious eyes and leaving Harry terrified as to what he would do.

But he also liked to take Harry’s toys, because he knew Harry wouldn’t be able to get over their absence. Sure enough, the boy wearily pushed the remaining models under his bed, and glumly stashed the paper away as well. Days like these were rare, he hadn’t been harassed by the local kids and he’d gotten a decent meal too. But now Harry just flopped onto his bed, feeling miserable.

And then a thought came to him. His Father only cared enough to take the toy from his room; he certainly wouldn’t be bothered to carry it around with him wherever he went. He had to have hidden it in the house somewhere, a place where he knew Harry wouldn’t dare to look..inside his own bedroom.

Harry immediately pushed it from his mind though, knowing that if he was caught the punishment would be severe and felt his Father would know he’d been in there regardless. His nastiest experiences had come from those small glimpses he’d seen before. Worse, Tadgh had threatened him with the belt if he ever so much as caught Harry lingering in front of his door. Harry wasn’t stupid either, knowing there was only one reason why his Father was so territorial. 

Inside that room, there had to be some details about his Mum.

Tadgh never talked about Johanna, though Harry had picked up her name when he'd overheard his Father drunkenly mumbling to himself one night two years ago. When he'd realised Harry had heard, Tadgh had backhanded his son across the face which had sent the child spiralling painfully to the floor below, before he’d held Harry in a vice grip by the scruff of his top. 

‘I catch you listening in again, or you try asking ANYTHING..you’ll wish you were never born,’ he’d growled.

Tadgh hadn't said not to think about her though, and the image Harry had thought up not long after, as he had lain in bed with his tooth that his Father had dislodged, came back to him now. So, instead, Harry decided to risk indulging in his most secretive hobby. Because his blue hair wasn’t the only thing that set Harry apart; it was the fact that this frightened little boy was capable of what could be described as..magic. At least, that was the only word Harry knew that could describe it.

Whatever it was, Harry could tap into it by snapping his fingers, something he had always remembered being able to do. There was a vague, distant memory in his mind as well, of his father clapping and laughing as he had clicked away. It was the only time Harry could think of when his Father had been genuinely happy with him; all the others were smirks or wicked grins as he’d tormented him over one thing or another.

Harry shook his head and focused his mind. He’d imagined his Mum’s face more than anything else, kind, warm, full of love and support. Harry imagined her with blue hair too, someone who wouldn't mock him for the gift that they both shared. Her arms, gentle and welcoming rose up to meet him as Harry's eyes drooped. In her arms, he could cry, snuggle up and feel safe from all the horrors and cruelty of the world. They could play trains together, they could talk about his other obsession with space as well. He’d eat nice food, sleep long nights and never have to worry about anyone hurting him ever again..

And somehow, someway, by clicking his fingers Harry was able to make these images come alive. They would go by in slow-motion; resting in his Mum’s arms as she pointed up at the sky to the stars above, the slow movement of a model train going along some tracks, the placing of a plate of warm pasta before him..

But Harry never allowed himself to become too immersed in these thoughts. He always had to stay focused and keep an ear out for his Father, who had no idea of this quiet hobby of his. Given that he would frequently go out of his way to tarnish what made his son happy, Harry had sworn to keep this talent, whatever it was, to himself as long as possible. 

And almost as if he’d jinxed it, Harry heard the front door open downstairs and stopped the clicking. The image of his Mum faded away and he was back in his room, cold and empty, as his Father’s heavy footsteps made their way through the hall. They faded away into the kitchen before they came stomping back, Tadgh’s grey head appearing as he heaved himself up the stairs.

‘Harry! Where are..are ya, pest!’ he called out angrily. Harry could tell from his slurred speech and tone that he was drunk, as was often the norm, and forced himself to respond. It was akin to a prisoner directing their blind executioner.

‘H-Here..,’ he called out and his Father appeared in the doorway, slamming the door against the wall as he smashed his hand flat against it and heaved himself inside. He eyed his son wickedly, as he steadied himself on the bed frame.

‘Hello, runt,’ Tadgh sneered, the alcohol hanging off his breath, ‘Any idea..Any idea what day it is..?’ He asked, a wicked smile turning into ugly scowl when Harry remained silent, not knowing what to say. Cursing under his breath, he moved closer, knowing the boy was uncomfortable with violations of his personal space. 

‘Ohh..no Daddy, I don't know what day it is!,’ Tadgh continued, putting on a high-pitched voice before his scowl darkened and he grabbed Harry suddenly. He hoisted him up and threw him off his bed, where the boy landed hard on his shoulder. As always, Harry curled up into a ball and began shaking slightly. Tadgh snorted and stomped back around to him, pulling Harry’s head up by his hair and was completely unmoved by his son's teary, bloodshot eyes.

‘Allways have to shpell things out, don’t I..?,’ Tadgh sneered, slurring his speech, ‘It's..It's FATHER’S DAY!’ He exclaimed, voice rising in indignation, ‘WHERE’S MY BLOODY GIIFT!?’

‘I..I-I don't-!!’ Harry began desperately, terror dripping off every word he forced out, but Tadgh caused him to stop by tightening his vice grip on Harry’s hair in outrage. Harry felt the tears bulge from his eyes before his Father finally let go and stumbled back. Harry knew the ordeal wasn't over yet, though as Tadgh slammed a fist on the now open door.

‘You usselleess gobeen ! I give you shuelter, I gave up evveryythinng for you , but you can't be fuuckiingg arssed to get me just one. suhingle. thing!!’

He advanced on Harry again, the boy having resumed his foetal position on the ground. He felt his Father tower over him, so close that he could smell the booze off his breath again. Then the first blow came, haphazard and sloppy, but Harry felt the impact shake his frail body from head to toe. 

‘..And ya know what that makess you..?’ Tadgh hissed, before he reached into his pocket and placed something on the dusty wooden floor before his son. A lone, singular apple. The same apple that Harry had taken some bites out of earlier. Harry almost stopped breathing and dared a glance up at those malicious eyes, devoid of any compassion and full of self-righteous fury.

‘It makes you a thief!’ his Father snarled, Harry sensing him tighten his fists at each word before he tightened his form, taking extra care to shield his head before Tadgh began to lay into him. Punches struck his sides and arms painfully and Harry felt the bruises begin to make themselves known all over. Tadgh hammered away at him, throwing insult after insult, calling Harry worthless, hopeless and everything in between. For five, painfully long minutes, he turned his son into a punching bag, until finally all the movement forced him to stop, the beer curdling in his gut. 

Gasping, the man forced himself up and stumbled away as Harry dared to breathe, feeling that his whole body was about to shatter into a million pieces. Just as he began to unwind, the boy froze in terrified anticipation once again. His Father’s footsteps had stopped, one hand against the door as his large form seemed to shake a little. 

Tadgh would later look back at this moment constantly, rueing himself for not just continuing on to the bathroom and throwing up the multiple pints he'd sunk that morning. Instead, he'd looked over at his son, nostrils flaring over and over again as he took deep breaths to keep the puke down as long as possible.

‘You're better off with me..I'm..I'm all you'll ever have..ya hear? Johanna was..was fucking useless..your suhister is-’ 

He froze. Harry froze. Immediately Tadgh slammed the door shut, hoping to shake the word from Harry's battered mind but he was already far too late. The word sent Harry into a daze, the image of his Mum being joined by another, a girl who again shared his blue hair and an equally welcoming expression. But that wasn't the only result, because as Harry laid flat on his back and inhaled sharp, steady breaths into his broken chest he felt a rare anger rush up to his head.

Because even though he dreamed of his Mother constantly, Harry’s life had been so cruel that he also feared she would be like his Father; drunk, abusive and no respect for his little dislikes. But now he knew the truth. There was a sister out there, and if his Father “cared” about him so much, why in the stars was she not here with him? 

Harry sat up, hands over his ears as his Father retched violently in the bathroom next to his room. It was another sound Harry hated and one he heard all too often. All too often had he put up with this terror, having thought he was powerless to do anything. And as he thought about it, a future lurched forward, calling out to him. Harry’s head pounded as his eyes darted around the floor, head feeling both light and heavy at the same time. He didn’t know what to do; every minute spent here felt like a minute of his life wasted, when his Father reappeared. He looked wilder and angrier than Harry had ever seen him, bits of sick speckled throughout his beard and eyes bulging angrily from his face. 

‘S-Stay away from m-me!’ Harry suddenly exclaimed, the words having formed and then flown from his mouth before he could even register them. They were angry too, full of hurt and confusion, which only drove Tadgh into a rage as slammed another fist against Harry’s bedroom door.

‘YOU WORTHLESS GURRIER!! I SACRIFICED EVERYTHING FOR YOU!! EVERYTHING!!’ He roared at the very top of his lungs. Then he advanced, hands clawed menacingly as if he were about to strangle his son, or even rip him limb from limb. All Harry knew for certain was that he was in for a beating of a lifetime as he scrambled backwards on all fours. Coming right up against the wall, Tadgh reached for him when Harry, in sheer desperation, reached out and snapped his fingers.

He didn’t know what prompted it, in fact looking back Harry would always be sure he wasn’t thinking near enough straight to react. All he remembered was feeling..warm..not from the Summer heat outside but because of his emotions. It was as if they had all been mixed together before spilling out through his body, before the motion of Harry’s fingers brought them together and allowed them to lash out all at once.

There was an explosion of orange light; one that could well have sent Harry flying out of his window had it been big enough. Instead, he found himself winded and flat against the wall as his Father stumbled the whole way back to the door. He clutched at his chest, gasping as another hand gripped the doorframe. The look he gave his son was still full of anger, yet..there was something else, and Harry struggled to comprehend that it was fear. Tadgh’s hand found the door handle, eyes narrowing towards his son as he pulled it closed.

‘Stay here for the rest of the day, I mean it!,’ he hissed darkly before he slammed the door shut. Harry felt the words bounce off him as he slumped down against the wall, shaking. Tired, deeply hurt and deeply, deeply confused, all the boy in the photo could wonder about was his Mother and Sister. Who, unknown to him, were talking about him at this very minute...

Chapter Text

Back in Trollberg, as Harry grappled with the revelation he had a sister, said sister sat in shock at another, crueller revelation. Taken. Taken. That was the word her Mum had used to describe what had happened to Harry, and Hilda felt whatever colour remained on her face drain away as she absorbed it.

‘Taken..?’ She finally murmured, and the pit in her stomach deepened when Johanna nodded slowly. She gazed at her daughter for a moment, letting go of her hand to caress the back of her head gently. As she did, Johanna reached into the swirl of memories to try and figure out where to begin and the answer was obvious; Hilda’s Father. 

‘So..we’ll h-have to start with..with your F-Father,’ Johanna began, and her eyes narrowed slightly when she saw Hilda’s light up a little. This, despite the fact Harry had been wrenched away from them, or the hint that her Dad may not have fully cared for her. And it broke Johanna’s heart that she had to tell her that it really was all true..

‘He was..u-unusual. A loner with little friends, but he had a..a sort of charm that I was just taken by. When I first met him, h-he told me he’d j-just moved to Trollberg, at least, t-that’s what he had me believe. We’d been together for a year a-and I had just g-graduated design school when..when I-I found out I was expecting..,’ Johanna said softly, caressing Hilda’s cheek. She frowned slightly though, seeing that Hilda already looked confused. 

‘Is there something you don’t understand?’ She asked her daughter gently, the girl being the anchor for her wayward emotions.

‘Yes..um..I thought you had to be married to..to have kids?’ Hilda asked innocently and Johanna stifled a laugh, not wanting to make Hilda think it was a stupid question. They weren’t about to have birds and the bees conversation here, as she took a breath and buried her mirth back under her grief. She had to stay focused, this wasn’t a conversion that could be drawn out over days either. 

‘No..No it’s not like that. I..I did worry about telling him though, it’s common for s-some people to..disappear when t-they’re confronted with a responsibility like that. But he stayed, and-and it made me b-blind..,’ Johanna hissed, quietly cursing herself bitterly. Hilda didn’t say anything, slowly going over every single word her Mum had managed to get out so far. Blind? Blind to what? The only thing she knew for certain was that her Father hadn’t been what he seemed when her Mum had met her. Johanna inhaled slowly, noticing the photo lying face down next to her daughter. 

‘Can I see the photo, sweetheart?’

‘Why?’ Hilda asked quickly, her anger bubbling back up to the surface, both at her Mum and herself for feeling guilty. Over and over again, she reminded herself that she had a right to feel angry, but she saw no point in lashing out now. She pulled the photo out from behind her and handed it to her Mum, who took it gingerly. It had been a while since she’d last seen it though, and Harry’s calm face staring back up at her finally broke Johanna. At first one or two tears escaped, then a few and finally a flood. Covering her face with her hand and rocking back and forward slightly, she felt Hilda prod her with the pack of tissues, which she took gratefully. 

‘This..This is a more recent p-photo..’ she sniffed, obscuring Harry’s face with her thumb, ‘When you and your b-brother were born..your hair was b-blue from the beginning. But Harry, he..he had black hair, like your F-Father..’

‘What!?’ Hilda exclaimed, leaning back slightly in shock, ‘And..And it t-turned blue, somehow?’

‘N-Not all at once. G-Gradually..over time..but that’s a l-little further on..,’ Johanna murmured, ‘I..I said your Father didn’t hate you and..and even n-now, I don’t t-think he ever hated you but…’

‘..but what? I don’t understand!’ Hilda sniffed and Johanna preemptively offered her the tissues, thinking over what to say, but found she was short of words to describe how Tadgh had felt towards Hilda. Well, there were a few; Disregard for one, even complete Apathy. But Johanna felt she couldn’t just tell Hilda these things without any proof. Her daughter’s yearning for a Father might convince her that her Mum lied out of bitterness or spite. Thankfully, Johanna did have proof. The photo wasn’t the only evidence of Harry’s existence.

‘Come and sit out in the living room, I-I want to show you something..’ Johanna said, stretching out her hand should Hilda want to take it, but the girl neglected to. Over and over again, she reminded herself that she still had the right to be upset.

But that simmering feeling couldn’t hold off Hilda’s curiosity, as she sat down on the rug in front of the TV and Johanna disappeared into her room to grab something. She heard her dragging something, something heavy and the girl was unable to sit still. She crept over and peeked through her Mum’s door, and saw her with an old safe, dented and scratched from the cabin being destroyed. It had taken them some twenty minutes to pull it out from the rubble; her Mum had insisted on it being brought.

Hilda was surprised she had never lingered on why. She put it down to the shock of her home being destroyed and her focus on her own precious things, like her old diaries and the torn family photo within.

Her Mum fumbled with the lock for a moment, evidently going through several codes before the safe clunked open. With a breath of satisfaction, Johanna took some old cassettes from within and Hilda heard something else hit the metal floor. It sounded like a couple of sticks, but Hilda didn’t have time to go over it as she retreated on her Mum’s approach. 

Johanna sat down by her side and fiddled with the remote, before pushing the first cassette into the maw of the box. At first, nothing played and Hilda saw her Mum’s face scrunch up in worry, before an image finally appeared on the screen. It was grainy and flickered infrequently, but Hilda was able to make out the scene and realised immediately that this wasn’t the old cabin, rather a medium sized apartment. 

‘I’d w-wanted to document your e-early years..’ her Mum sniffed, ‘Of course, we couldn’t afford a brand new camera..the one we did get didn’t play sound, b-but it was good enough for..for us..’

Hilda was silent, head resting against her Mum’s side as the camera zoomed in and out, whoever was operating presumably getting familiar with the controls. Finally, it panned around a room, revealing the small living area decorated for a birthday party. To be specific, herself and Harry’s second birthday judging by the small array of cards on the table. 

And for the first time, Hilda saw her Father. In the video, he was short and burly looking, with a bushy beard and messy black hair the colour of soot. He was wearing a blue fleece, and visibly smiling as he rocked a child back and forth; Harry, who seemed to be giggling uncontrollably. Feeling her emotions swirl, Hilda looked for any sign of herself, but saw nothing as the screen faded to black briefly before another scene emerged. 

This time, it was a collage of photos and the first was one of Hilda and Harry sitting in their high chairs. Hilda smiled briefly and sniffled, seeing the fistfuls of cake in their hands and icing clinging to their mouths, which made them look like dwarves. They looked so content with each other, as she felt her Mum squeeze her shoulder.

The second photo appeared, herself and Harry still strapped into their chairs. She was still looking at the camera, hypnotised with red irises, while Harry had looked away to grab the last piece of his cake. And there was her Father, crouched down next to Harry and with a wide smile on his face. However, he was all the way off to the right, rather than sitting in the natural place between his children. 

Hilda quickly began to realise where this was headed, and her emotions began to buckle as another picture circled onto the screen. Her Father was spoon feeding her the last of her cake, the debris that littered the table giving a hint as to why. As her vision began to fog, Hilda saw the look on her Father’s face. The smile he'd had earlier had disappeared, replaced by a purely neutral expression. lt seemed he didn't mind feeding her, but wasn't exactly thrilled about it either. If anything, he looked like he was doing it to keep up appearances.

Finally, another video appeared, this time her Mum switching between filming Harry on the couch and herself sitting just below them, playing with a small Woff toy. For a moment, Hilda found herself smiling tearfully again, as her young self threw the Woff off screen, only for someone to throw it back to her. She was clearly laughing, and Hilda dared to dream that this mystery person was her Father actually interacting with her. 

But then he walked into frame from somewhere else, as the Woff again reappeared. Hilda watched, despairing at each second, as she turned and held the Woff up to her Father. But the man simply walked around her and sat down, picking Harry up and placing him on his lap, obscuring Hilda from view. Finally, the Woff rolled limply into view as two little hands appeared on her Father’s leg, only to brushed off without second thought.

The camera tilted down, and the slide show ended.

‘That last one got a reaction out of me and Astrid..,’ her Mum muttered, her expression sour before looking down at Hilda. Even after all she had seen, the girl struggled to comprehend it and just looked up at her Mum tearfully. Johanna sighed and squeezed her shoulder again, running another hand through her daughter's fringe.

‘Y-You see sweetheart..your F-Father didn’t hate you. He w-would happily wash you, f-feed you..but that was it. Apart from t-the minimum, he..he would hardly spend any time w-with you..he just didn’t care,’ she explained, and Hilda felt her face disintegrate after each sentence. She didn’t bawl, just buried herself in her Mum’s jumper and sobbed quietly into the fabric. Johanna shifted so she could wrap both her arms around her daughter, whispering kind words whilst avoiding looking at her old partner, cradling the son he’d stolen from her. 

‘Why..,’ was all Hilda could get out in the end. She heard her Mum inhale softly. loading up another round of likely painful exposition. For Johanna, she wasn't quite sure how to word it, something that troubled her initially. After all, this would only be a minor revelation compared to the rest that were slowly but surely coming down the tracks.

‘..He preferred Harry because he was his son..,’ Johanna began anyway, ‘And you..you weren't a son-,’

‘-Because I'm a girl..,’ Hilda murmured, a cocktail of emotions swirling around inside her. Johanna tightened her embrace at how despondent her daughter sounded and eventually Hilda glanced up at her, one terrible question coming to mind. Had her Mum just sat by and let the neglect happen. Johanna went pale when she asked and shook her head fervently, but her sigh only told Hilda that there was more than met the eye here.

‘It..It doesn’t mean I’m blameless,’ Johanna murmured, letting Hilda go, ‘Nearly every time I’d come home from w-work, you’d either be crying or be extremely clingy..I should’ve k-known better, Hilda..I’m sorry..’

Hilda sat in silence for a moment, absorbing the apology. Not that she blamed her Mum not noticing, but rather wondering why she had been so easily neglected in the first place. She knew from being on the bus just how loud toddlers could be; how on earth had he managed to ignore that level of noise. Brow furrowed in thought, she looked up at her Mum, who seemed to be dreading whatever it was she had to say.

‘..kids are loud though, right?,’ Hilda asked, the relief instantly visible on Johanna’s face, ‘How did he just..just ignore me?’

‘That’s..well..you’ll need to know something about me first..,’ Johanna murmured, brushing aside her fringe, ‘I..I didn’t draw or paint for a living at first, because I..I already had a job, one that had me working late nights constantly..,’ she began before she held out her hand. Hilda took it, looking up at her Mum with a firm curiosity. 

‘Why..Why the preamble?’ Hilda asked.

‘Because what I’m about to say exposes a part of the world that you don’t know about, Hilda. It’s a part of the world that only certain people can see and understand..though if I remember correctly, you’ve actually dabbled in it already-,’ Johanna explained, before she noticed Hilda’s eyes go wide in astonishment. She’d figured it out, just like her Mum knew and planned she would.

‘-The tide mice! You..You’re a WITCH!,’ Hilda exclaimed in astonishment, remembering just how quickly her Mum had calmed down after scolding her over the incident. Johanna nodded, and she looked a little more calm than before, almost as if she thought they were in more comfortable territory. 

But Hilda’s astonishment was quickly replaced by fury. It was another secret her Mum had kept from her, but the hurt was compounded by the fact that she didn’t tell Hilda after the tide mice incident. And it only snowballed from there. Hilda remembered the Kraken, the chaos at the Jorts company and worst of all the Night of the Trolls. Johanna’s face fell when she saw just how upset Hilda was, as the girl shot up in outrage.

‘Hilda, I-I know it hurts that you didn’t know-!’

‘-Hurts?,’ Hilda cut in, ‘Of course it hurts! You grounded me for keeping secrets but you get to tell me about Harry and about being a Witch whenever you feel like it!?’

She scoffed before Johanna could respond, not caring to wipe away her tears as she stared her Mum down.

‘ `Course, I only had to come home and start throwing things at you to get the truth out! I..Do..Do you k-know what you could have stopped if you-you had just told me all this earlier!? I wouldn't have hit Trevor! I wouldn't be worrying about getting kicked out of Scouts! And-And there wouldn't be a massive BLOODY HOLE IN THE WALL!!’ Hilda cried out, stomping her foot in rage and pointing out to the City behind them.

Johanna froze at this last accusation, having spent many nights going over the memories of their time in the Stone Forest and what led up to it. She had been so close to losing Hilda as well, and while her behaviour had been inexcusable, perhaps if Johanna herself hadn’t been so insistent she stay and play the game then maybe none of it would have happened. 

But now there was far more to Hilda’s reaction than simply being a stroppy child who hadn't wanted to play any games with her boring old Mum. She had been insistent on getting to Frida’s house, because she needed to bring something to Frida, and suddenly everything clicked in Johanna’s mind. Hilda needed to bring something to Frida because she was her Familiar..and Frida her Witch.

‘You and Frida..Witch and Familiar..,’ Johanna murmured and suddenly Hilda went pale, worry filling her tired and teary brown eyes. She swallowed and coughed angrily, wiping away her tears as she looked away. 

‘I..no, that's not-’ 

‘-No, Hilda, it's ok!’ I- I'm so, so s-sorry that me keeping it from you made..made it s-seem that everything was your f-fault!’ Johanna assured tearfully, wanting desperately to get up and hug her daughter but forcing herself to keep a distance. Hilda stood there, soaking up the apology as she did and going over everything from her own perspective.

‘I..I was s-still a runt..and b-bloody Ahlberg he..he was going to start something! If..If the N-Night hadn't happened..then a-all the Trolls would s-still be outside, angry and..and..having to d-deal with the Bells-!’

At that point, the Bells on the Wall rang out briefly, three times to signify that it was three in the afternoon but Hilda was warped back to that night, when even just one of them sounding out had made it seem like her whole head would explode. She slumped to her knees and fell forward, hands gripping her hair tightly.

Her Father had never cared for her because she was a girl. Her Mum had been a Witch and never told her despite everything. Her brother had been stolen from her. All of it was just. too. much.

‘Hilda..Hilda..’

She rolled over to see that her Mum had closed the distance, and she reached out to place a hand gently on Hilda’s side, before she sighed, looking away for a moment briefly.

‘Hilda, I..I know haven't been the best..I've let myself be controlled by my guilt and my pain rather than telling you the truth, or truths, I should say. It's only caused you hurt and..and made you keep truths as well. I'm not asking for your forgiveness, because you have a right to be upset with me-’

‘-That's..That's a-all I wanted to h-hear..really..not..not that I'm still angry..,’ Hilda sniffed before she fell forward into Johanna’s embrace. Her Mum rubbed circles around her back, letting her cry and quite surprised by her reaction. 

‘Hilda..really, I-I know it's been rough but you don't have to forgive me for the sake of it..!’

‘No! You..You told me people make mistakes, cause..cause that's what people do! It doesn't make us b-bad..it just makes us people..!’

She sniffed, gripping the back of her Mum’s jumper tightly as she felt tears hit the top of her head.

‘It..It w-was a big m-mistake but y-your my M-Mum! You love me! He doesn't! And it's h-his fault that this is happening, n-not yours!,’ Hilda went on, before the weight of her emotions became too much and she buried her face in her Mum’s shoulder. Johanna, tears streaming down her face, shifted and brought Hilda up onto her lap. The girl curled up a little, eyes closed and hiccuping every now and again. Johanna leaned forward and planted a kiss on her forehead, squeezing the girl's shoulder.

‘T-Thank you, sweetheart..,’ she murmured, looking up as the Sun peeked out from behind the clouds.

______________________

About thirty minutes later, both Mother and daughter pulled up at a rotten looking wooden gate. Johanna had to shake Hilda awake when they arrived, the girl having been rendered exhausted from all the revelations so far. Although Johanna still had a lot to tell, Hilda had complained of the apartment being too claustrophobic for the time being. So her Mum had offered to take them somewhere she knew, a trail that Hilda didn’t recognise but was signposted by a chipped and rusty sign. The text was illegible from a distance, so Hilda wandered over with Twig as Johanna tried once or twice to lock the old secondhand car, the cheapest one she’d been able to find.

‘Emaline Ahlberg Boarding School for Girls..,’ Hilda read aloud, able to discern the faded letters and wondering why the family had to have had their names on everything. It must have gotten pretty confusing for everyone over time. She looked up at her Mum,  who had come over and placed a hand on her shoulder, having finally won her battle with the car lock.

‘Astrid sent me here when I was twelve, after my parents..well..that’s another story,’ Johanna explained, though Hilda thought her eyes had seemed a little empty, like they hadn’t been thinking of anything in particular. Approaching the gate, Johanna pushed it open with an ominous creak, and Hilda thought the looming trees warranted caution as well. Her Mum, however, chuckled softly and motioned for her to follow. 

‘I know it looks a bit spooky now, but it really was a lovely place once. The trees here would be all cut back to let in the Sun, and the school was built up on top of the hill here, overlooking the bay. I remember we would stay up at night and try watching for Trolls out in the woods too!’ Johanna chuckled as they went up an old road, dandelions and other weeds poking through its cracks. 

‘It sounds nice..but maybe tell me more after you’ve told me about Harry?’ Hilda replied, impatience lingering in her tone. Johanna nodded, going quiet for a moment as the road began to rise slightly. In the distance, Hilda could see it turn and wind its way up the hill. 

‘..I mentioned how my life got turned upside down at work..I had to fight s-someone..an old friend I’d known for years who’d become ensnared by dark magic. I-I was able to stop her with the help of Tildy and some others but..but they wiped her memory of magic. Since I was a witch, that..that included me too..’

‘That’s..I’m sorry..,’ Hilda murmured, taking her Mum’s hand in sympathy. Johanna said nothing, just squeezed Hilda’s hand as the last memory of her friend rolled through her mind. They’d left her in her apartment, unconscious from the spell and a good deal of money for her to support herself, as was policy. Before she’d closed the door, she’d looked back to see her lying on the couch, snoozing softly. Johanna just hoped that she’d been able to lead a normal life, wherever she was now.

Because as for her, losing her had proved only to be the start of her woes.

They reached the end of the road, but Johanna guided them not up the hill but left towards a narrow, overgrown path. Hilda looked to the top of the hill as she made to follow, and saw that there wasn't any sign of the school awaiting them. It must have been demolished at some point, with what remained being left to nature.

Following her Mum along the path, having to stop once or twice to pick up Twig or figure a way around one or two large bramble bushes, Hilda finally stepped out to find her Mum standing in a clearing that opened out to the bay below them. The view was beyond picturesque, especially during a Summer day such as this. The sea sparkled like diamonds, and Hilda was able to see out from one end of the City to the other. Johanna inhaled and sat down, patting the ground for Hilda to sit down beside her.

Sitting down, the girl shifted closer to and rested her head against her Mum’s shoulder while looping arms with her. She really couldn’t believe it would get worse from here, and all she could do was strap up and prepare for impact as her Mum closed her eyes, tears rolling down her face intermittently as somewhere above, a quiet birdsong echoed through the treetops. It steadied Johanna somewhat, and she drew on what Tildy had once called her “bottomless pit” of resolve. 

They were almost at the end now.

‘So..all of that is to say that I..I wasn't the only magic user in our family,’ Johanna revealed softly and Hilda once again lurched back in shock, shuffling away to fully absorb what she had just heard. Johanna studied her daughter’s pale face, as Hilda’s eyes darted about in confusion before she looked at her shaking hand. Johanna reached out and took it, seeing the girl's eyes settle somewhat.

‘Are you wondering about doing magic..?’

‘T-The Witches said I-I wouldn’t be great at solving problems or..or learning spells. I-It did hurt a little..,’ Hilda sniffed, ‘But I’m over that,’ she added quickly as Johanna frowned, ‘How did Dad do magic?’

‘Well..your Father came from Ireland, out across the sea there,’ Johanna began, looking out to the bay, ‘But at the same time..he didn’t. His people lived underneath Ireland..a society I think is the best way of putting it..called the Tuatha De Dannan ..’

Hilda had read up on countless myths and legends over the years, so naturally she had heard the tales of Fionn MacCumhaill and Cu Chulainn, mythic Irish heroes, but the Tuatha De Dannan were new to her. She shifted closer, taking shelter from her hurt in her curiosity as Johanna continued her tale.

‘..Your Father did magic by clicking his fingers, I remember seeing him project his old stories onto a wall like shadow puppets, and he would pull things over to him with just a click, like that..,’ Johanna explained wearily, clicking her fingers. Hilda jumped a little at the sound, having been so caught up in what her Mum was saying.

‘He..He told me who he really was when I told him I was a Witch. He was very keen about teaching you two his art as well..at least I thought he’d be teaching the two of you..

‘After what happened, I took some time off work. At first things were normal, I was finally able to spend some time with my children,’ Johanna smiled tearfully, touching Hilda’s cheek, ‘But then..then your Father started getting almost.. territorial.. around Harry. I-It was the first time I realised that something was wrong…’

Harry kicked in his high chair, eyes following the spoon as she angled it about towards him. She tittered as he gulped it down, catching a glimpse of the couple of pearly teeth in her son’s mouth. He and Hilda had about the same now, though it was hard to tell since her daughter liked to bite at any wayward finger nearby. She looked over at Hilda giggling at the TV, while Tadgh lay on the couch asleep. She frowned, as she left Harry for a moment to quickly head up to the bathroom.

She’d noticed more and more since taking time off work just how distant he was from Hilda. He didn’t laugh with her like he laughed with Harry, nor did he seem to devote nearly as much time to teaching her his magic. Harry had been able to click his fingers for a while, much to his and his sister’s delight, but not Hilda. She’d seen the girl trying too, attempting to mimic her brother's movements but with little success. 

She had tried not to dwell much on it, even though at the same time she felt she really ought to. It made her angry to think that Hilda was being neglected by her Father, something she felt she didn’t need after what she’d been through. But as she washed her hands, she heard Harry burst out laughing downstairs. Knowing he had a tendency to rock his chair, she rushed down in a panic, only to find Tadgh with his back to her. He was doing another puppet show, grinning at his son time and again as each snap of his fingers made the shadows come to life.

Hilda was watching quietly, sucking her thumb as she went over and picked her up, bouncing her in her arms. Hilda’s eyes remained fixed on her Father though, and she just looked so..sad. Her expression finally forced her to act, clearing her throat to get Tadgh’s attention.

‘What is it?,’ he asked gruffly, turning around, ‘Can’t ya see I’m telling a story?’

‘Without Hilda,’ she replied, stroking the toddler’s hair, ‘..Just a little odd how you were asleep until I went upstairs, by the way,’ she added coolly. Tadgh shrugged, nodding at their daughter while he tickled Harry’s chin.

‘Ah, she kept me awake with her giggling, plus Harry needed feeding,’ he explained casually, but the way he didn’t even use Hilda’s name irked her a little, along with the fact she had been in the middle of feeding Harry less than a minute ago.

‘I was doing that,’ she said pointedly, before she held out Hilda, ‘But why don’t you show Hilda the puppet show?,’ she suggested, being genuine before she scowled at Tadgh’s hesitancy.

‘We’re in the middle of this one, I’m not bothered to start over,’ he said stiffly, clicking his fingers again and bringing up the next scene. The Twins watched enthusiastically, only motivating her further to push the point.

‘Hilda doesn’t have to see it from the beginning! Look, why don’t you take her and I can keep feeding Harry like I was doing a minute ago, then we can all watch-!’

‘Ugh, get off my case, Johanna!,’ her partner replied irritably, ‘I already told you he’s fed as well!’

She just pointed to the still half-full bowl of baby food, catching him in the lie. With a grumble, and a quick eye-roll, Tadgh handed over Harry, albeit reluctantly, while he took Hilda clumsily as the girl kicked a little in a fit of giggles. 

‘Dada! Dada!,’ Hilda chortled, but her Mum saw just how discontent her Father looked as he clicked through the story. She turned Harry towards them and began to feed him again, before she noticed something in his curls. As the boy turned to and fro to get his food and to watch the show, she thought she saw a hint of blue. Duly investigating, she found a tuft of blue curls around the middle of his head, the exact shade of his sisters.

‘Well..would you look at that..,’ she murmured, most to herself, but when she looked over to see Tadgh watching, the only word she could use to describe his face was one of pure and utter horror.

Johanna felt her daughter shift away from her as she finished, and looked up to find Hilda starting to pace the clearing. Evidently she was absorbing this latest revelation of neglect. but Johanna could also tell that she was thinking and watched on in pride. Hilda was exceptionally clever, despite what one would think if they saw her Maths grade. One of her talents included being able to piece together events, sometimes from the smallest of breadcrumbs and this was no exception. After a few minutes, Hilda clicked her fingers and looked to her Mum, who nodded for her to speak her mind.

‘He..He wanted to keep Harry from you cause he didn’t want you to influence him, right? And he ignored me cause..cause I’m a girl. A girl with blue hair..,’ Hilda sniffed briefly, holding out the back of her hair, ‘..he-he didn’t think I was worthy, or something stupid like that..,’ she muttered and Johanna nodded along at every word, before she opened her arms wide for a hug. Hilda readily accepted, settling into her Mum’s embrace as Johanna continued to go on slowly.

‘The hair put him into a panic..he started spending every waking moment with H-Harry. He even tried a baby sling!,’ Johanna explained, almost laughing, ‘Harry d-didn’t take well to it..the tantrum he put up was..was something biblical. I tried g-getting Astrid’s advice, and she told me it was a-a natural thing..H-Harry would either be f-fully or partly blue..

‘..W-When it became obvious t-that he couldn’t do anything to-to stop Harry’s hair, he became..distant. At t-the time I hoped he was j-just coming to terms with it but..but now I know he was just b-being a child. H-He’d decided we were t-through the moment he “lost” Harry,’ Johanna muttered bitterly, voice sour and full of hurt, ‘But..But I had just lost my b-best friend, I-I didn’t want to be a s-single Mum until..until I had no choice… ’

The living room was empty, the night pitch as she stood in front of the glass door. Occasionally, cars passed by underneath her, oblivious to her plight as she looked down at the pregnancy test in her hands again. It wasn’t hers, hell, Tadgh had hardly slept upstairs with her for the past two weeks. He’d taken to sleeping on the couch instead, and that’s where she’d caught Hilda pulling at something curiously in between the cushions earlier. 

She felt so empty. She hadn’t felt anything as she’d thrown his few possessions into a box, she couldn’t even remember breathing as she’d dumped them in the corridor. The door was latched shut, sealed with magic she’d managed to dredge up from somewhere. Taking a couple steps back, she collapsed into the armchair and stared through the test again. It was positive, before it broke apart in her hands. She hadn’t even registered snapping it in two and just sat there, holding the remains of her partner’s infidelity in her hands. 

So, so empty. She didn’t know where to go nor what to do. She hadn’t spoken to Tildy or Kaisa for over two months, mainly because she’d felt that her connection to magic had been fading since the clash, yet another crisis she had to deal with. Astrid would implore her to move out to Tofoten, but she didn’t want to abandon Trollberg. She still had some form of a life here, as unrecognisable as it was now. She was still a Witch. Her drawings had been selling surprisingly well too. And her Twins had friends in creche too, or Hilda did at least. She’d been told that Harry wasn’t particularly sociable..

The thought of her twins made her smile briefly, before she looked up at the doorknob jiggling violently. As she approached, she heard Tadgh fumble with his keys, inserting and re-inserting them into the lock in a futile effort. Finally, she hear him snort angrily and start to pound his fists on the door like a raging bull. 

JOHHANNNAA!! YOU -hic- BITCHH!!,’ he roared violently. He was very evidently drunk too, as she leaned against the wall and wiped tears from her eyes as he continued his pointless attack against the door. 

'I FOUND THE TEST,’ she finally yelled back, the anger bursting through, ‘YOU’RE NOT-NOT FUCKING WELCOME HERE ANYMORE, YOU HEAR!? YOU’RE DEAD TO ME, DEAD!!’

‘YOUU CAN’T KEEP M-MY FUCKKINGG KIDSS FROM -hic- ME!!,’ he screamed back, and she almost laughed at him using the plural. He had never, ever cared about Hilda. He had almost certainly stopped caring about Harry because of his hair. Because, she realised, she was never meant to be a part of his future. She was just meant to be the Mother of his warrior child, a tool to be thrown aside. 

‘YOU ONLY CARE ABOUT YOURSELF! NOT ME, NOT HILDA, NOT HARRY, NOTHING!! GET OUT OF HERE BEFORE I CALL THE PATROL!!’

Tadgh didn’t respond, and she heard the distinct sound of fingers clicking. She kicked the door as he cursed under his breath, his abilities obviously hindered by how much drink he’d poured down his gullet. 

‘I SAID GO! GO BACK TO WHOEVER IT IS YOU’RE LYING TO AND NEVER COME BACK!’

‘YOU..YOU USEELESSS B-BITCH!!,’ he creamed back, reduced to petty insults as she heard him stagger backwards, ‘A-ALL YOUU -hic- DO IS DRAAWW LUHINES ON-ON -hic- PAPER!!’

She almost yelled back that she was a Witch, but stopped herself when she heard another door open somewhere. A woman’s voice, probably the old midwife who took nothing from no one, told Tadgh to shut up before she slammed her door. She heard him grumble and retreat, neglecting his box of things as he did. Once she was sure he was gone, she ignored the Twins cries upstairs and collapsed against the door, bawling for what felt like hours…

Back in the present, Johanna felt Hilda wrap her arms around her middle and pulled her in closer. Both Mother and daughter were in floods of tears, staring out across the bay to try and keep some semblance of calm. But for Hilda it was too much, and she buried her face in her Mum’s jacket, her sobs becoming more and more audible as the birdsong faltered above them.

‘H-He came back..th-that night h-he came back and..and he took your br-brother..,’ Johanna sniffed, wide-eyed and staring straight ahead, as Hilda’s grip tightened on her jumper.

She shot up the sound, the door slamming against the wall downstairs. Immediately, the Twins started bawling next to her and she scrambled up from the makeshift bed she’d made in their room. Jabbing it out into the hall, she heard shuffling downstairs and immediately her instinct was to seal the door behind her-

But as she turned, she heard Tadgh pound up the stairs and wheeled back around. Too late. A snap of his fingers and she felt a sharp pain in her shoulder. She stumbled, but quickly passed the wand to her other hand and got a spell off. It missed him by inches, the explosion of blue light revealing his wild, furious face. Darkness fell and this time his fist slammed into her stomach, sending her through the door. Tadgh pushed past her but she was on top of him in moments, dragging him away from the cot before she threw herself against it, while Tadgh almost tripped on a toy somewhere, its red lights and chirpy song coming to life.

‘La La La, off to the rescue! La La La, off the rescue!’ 

She kept her wand trained on Tadgh, but she just couldn’t ignore Hilda bawling behind her. She hadn’t even turned her head when Tadgh used the distraction to hit her square in the jaw. Dazed, she stumbled and clutched the side of the cot for balance. Little hands reached up to her, desperately seeking comfort but she could only stare back, heart inside her throat as her eyes darted around, adjusting to the dark.

Harry was gone.

She whirled around, wand aimed right in-between Tadgh’s eyes. But something stopped her, perhaps because the adrenaline hadn’t kicked in yet, more likely because she was terrified of hitting Harry. Her son's screams echoed around her head as Tadgh used the lull to step back, but she rallied on seeing Harry trying to squirm out of his Father’s vice grip, and as she jabbed her wand forward the spell lit up the room; revealing Harry’s wide, crying eyes as he reached out towards his Mother-

-But his Father was a second faster.

With a snap of his fingers he’d wrenched the wand from her hand and sent it flying against the wall. There, it snapped in two and the built up magic within exploded. The room shook violently, dust falling from the ceiling but she rushed towards him, hands clawed and ready to strangle him if it meant saving Harry-

Three panicked clicks was all she picked up on before she was thrown about and slammed into the bannisters, which buckled under the impact. She tried to stand up, but her back groaned in pain as Tadgh stumbled out, clearly thrown off by the burst of magic. For a moment she lay there, and a look of arrogant pride came over Tadgh’s face. He thought he’d already won, but she wiped the thought and the look in an instant when she thrust her hand out-

The spell missed. Tadgh managed to duck out of the way and a shower of plaster engulfed them both. Through the dust, she heard another snap and through the crunch of wood she knew he’d broken the bannisters. She made to move but his foot slammed into her chest, propelling her over the edge. Time slowed as she fell, the cries of her twins echoing, the crunch of her ribs as she hit first the wall, then the stairs. Blood filled her vision as she came to reach the bottom, as Tadgh rushed down after her. 

Blood turned to black, pulling her into the abyss. She caught Harry’s face, reaching out to him, hoping for her body to do something..anything..as her son’s face became smaller, his cries fainter..

‘MAMA! MAMA! MAMA! MAMA…!’

‘...I..I was a fool..,’ Johanna muttered, letting Hilda out of her grasp and pulling her legs up to herself, ‘I-I should have left the m-moment I saw that a-awful side of him but..but a part of me still loved him, Hilda..a part of me s-still thought he w-was the man who swept me off my feet..’

Hilda sat there quietly, her feelings torn. Her Mum’s world had been crashing down around her. Her friend’s memory had been wiped, and then she’d found out her partner had seemingly resented their daughter over factors she had zero control over. Hilda wanted to tell her she was a fool too, her Mum would probably accept it in self-loathing, but she stopped herself. The Cabin had been suddenly and violently taken from them, sure, but they’d had a new home ready to go after a couple calls. Her life as a Troll had only been a couple nights long, and while the consequences were a bit more severe, it was almost like nothing happened.

But for her Mum it had been a slow and painful experience. She’d tried desperately to keep her old life together, long nights spent arguing with an ignorant and uncompromising man that in the end only revealed that she was a pawn in some game. Hilda couldn’t be angry, she had no right to be despite what her Mum had said earlier. She had no idea what it was like to be in that situation, anything close to it had always been ironed out quickly enough for her. 

‘..I-I don’t think you were a fool,’ she said finally, much to Johanna’s surprise. She blinked away her tears and crossed her arms, having been expecting the opposite. She peered at Hilda, thinking perhaps she really was angry, but was letting it slide. But no, her daughter just stared back, brown eyes full of understanding. 

‘Really..?’ Johanna finally asked, ‘H-Hilda I..I lost Harry..I’m the reason-!’

‘You’re not!,’ Hilda sniffed, ‘Y-You’re a good Mum! You’ve always been there for me! I..I’m not gonna listen to you t-talk yourself down!’

Johanna didn’t have time to respond before Hilda pulled her into a hug, while Twig came running over from wherever he had been. Johanna opened an arm for the Deerfox to snuggle in with them, and just soaked up the moment. Just a few hours ago, she had been caged by her guilt at failing Harry, a guilt that had buried the past from the one child she still had. But now, Johanna felt lighter, freer and never felt the smile leave her face as she drove herself and Hilda home..

__________________________________________________________________________

‘Foul, contemptible man!!,’ Alfur cried out in disbelief, slamming a hand against the wall of his house before he looked back at Johanna. The Elf was taken aback by just how calm she looked. Her eyes were bloodshot, face snow-pale and yet Johanna wore the faintest of smiles as she reached out and pinched one of Alfur’s fluffy cheeks.

‘..old news to me, Alfur..,’ she muttered hoarsely, ‘But..But none of it would have been possible without you..,’ she explained, a few loose tears of gratitude escaping, as the Elf waved her off, forever humble as always. The door opened, and Tontu came in with a plate of biscuits and some tea, completely unprompted.

‘You as well..Tontu..,’ Johanna murmured kindly, as the Nisse sat down on the ground next to her. He seemed to be staring off into space, at least the tormented Mother thought he was, as Hilda fussed in her sleep behind them. She turned over as her Mum rested a hand on her shoulder, slowly soothing her back to sleep.

‘How..How did you cope?’ Tontu asked finally.

‘I didn’t..I completely abandoned my life..,’ Johanna muttered bitterly, picking up the old photo from where it had been deposited on Hilda’s desk, ‘Once the Safety Patrol hit a wall, I just took my things and drove out to our cabin..Astrid only found out when she came to check in on the place..’

She sighed, breathing in and out shakily before she rubbed Hilda’s shoulder. Her smile reappeared, and she went over her answer to Tontu’s question as her daughter reached out and took a hold of her hand in her sleep. 

‘It was all Hilda..H-Hilda kept me sane. Every time she’d fall asleep watching woff’s with me..every time she’d show me an interesting rock she found. All the times s-she’d draw and play games w-with me..all the times s-she’d come home with stories, e-even if it wasn’t everything.. ,’

She inhaled, regarding her daughter once more with a tired smile as Twig hopped up on her bed and curled up next to her.

‘I used to think I-I was a terrible Mother b-but..but I think I’ve done a good job, all things c-considered..’

She looked back to find Alfur crying away, with Tontu rubbing at his furry face. She gave them some time, finished her tea and had one or two biscuits as she leaned back in her chair and for once looked to the future. She had always been afraid of it, hence why she took quickly to the timeless atmosphere of the Cabin. But she’d faced it before, when she’d returned to Trollberg. Now? Having aired out her greatest failure? Now that she’d told Hilda all her truths? She felt unstoppable, as she saw Alfur step into her eyeline. 

‘..So..what now, then?,’ he asked, wringing his hands together. Johanna swallowed her third biscuit and leaned forward in her chair, resting her head in one hand as she gave the Elf a knowing look. 

‘I think you already know, Alfur,’ she explained wryly, before she looked back at Hilda’s sleeping form. Her mission from now would be hard, it would involve reaching out to those she’d abandoned so long ago and perhaps a thousand other unknown obstacles, but Johanna’s resolve was unshakable. She would not, could not, allow her failure to persist.

‘I’m going to get my son back’

Chapter Text

The next day, in Holyhead, Harry was sitting on the floor, rocking back and forth. He was still absorbing everything that had happened the day before, both physically and mentally. The bruises on his arms and legs had him stiff, and the intermittent pain had kept Harry up for most of the night before. Harry had managed to distract himself from it somewhat by repeating that one word that Tadgh had let slip yesterday. Sister. Sister sister sister. He, Harry, had a sister.

That revelation hadn’t been the only thing. Just seconds afterwards, Harry had struck back against Tadgh, though without really meaning to. He’d snapped his fingers, usually used to create imaginary memories of his Mum, and the mysterious force within him had responded. Tadgh had been sent flying backwards, almost off his feet. He hadn't dared approach Harry again, instead ordering him to stay put in his room. Harry had done so, the incident having instilled a new fear in him rather than the idea that he could stand up to his Father.

Because now Tadgh knew that his poor, abused son had something within him, something beyond human understanding. Harry had absolutely no idea what would happen, and his fear of the unknown meant that his panic was growing steadily. He hadn’t heard much from his father downstairs this morning, Harry wondering if he’d actually committed to leaving him up here to starve, like Tadgh had threatened to do several times in the past. Or maybe he’d try to make a quick buck by selling him off to some scientists?

And suddenly Harry was shot back into the present by his Father’s heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. He forced himself to turn towards the door, as he felt heart become stuck in his throat when the footsteps paused momentarily, before Tadgh..knocked. Knocked. It came again a couple of times over, as Harry sat frozen in shock, eyes wide in confusion at what he’d just heard. He thought he must be dreaming but when he shook his head and listened closely, the knocking could still be heard. Finally, Harry forced himself to respond.

‘Wh-What is i-it..,’ he called out, voice quavering at nearly every syllable. Tadgh opened the door, and the look on his face caused Harry’s nerves to go into overdrive. His Father wore no look of anger, in fact, there was no malice on his face or in his eyes at all. Instead, he was genuinely smiling. Genuinely smiling. A broad grin that revealed the grizzly state of drink after the years of alcoholism. Harry blinked once or twice, not quite believing what he was seeing. He had only ever seen a wicked grin from his Father, usually before he was subjected to a pummeling.

‘Come on!,’ Tadgh boomed heartily, ‘We have to get some breakfast into ya!,’ he laughed, clapping his hands and jerking his head towards the stairs. Harry’s hunger caused him to scramble out of the room, despite every fibre of his being telling him to stay where he was. Downstairs, he found nothing waiting for him, but only paused for a moment before he darted over to the table as his Father came downstairs.

‘Now, what would you like?,’ Tadgh asked, as he popped two bits of bread into the toaster, before he looked over at his son. Because Harry had laughed. He rarely ever laughed because there was understandably nothing in his life to laugh at, but now a weak, somewhat raspy chuckle escaped his lungs. He had to be dreaming, absolutely had to be dreaming. There was no way that his Father had just magically decided to start caring about him, as Tadgh just buttered the toast and put the plate in front of him. He sat down, fingers interlocked and still smiling. If Harry hadn’t known he was dreaming, he’d be seriously worried.

‘Thought of something funny?,’ he grinned, ‘Go on, tell the joke to your old man!’

‘No..No t-there isn’t a-a joke..!,’ Harry breathed, struggling to control his laughter. A part of him hated how cruel his mind was being now, showing him a world where he didn’t have to suffer. He had probably been knocked out during the beating yesterday.

‘Ah now, I’m not going to be annoyed with ya, spill the beans!,’ Tadgh pressed, as his brown eyes began to bore into Harry’s.

‘This is a dream! Y-You..Y-You hurt me..all..all of t-the time! Why s-start being n-nice all of a-a sudden?,’ Harry revealed, taking a bite of bread. Tadgh snorted, leaning back in his chair and looking out the window briefly, before his gaze returned to Harry who paused mid-bite. Tadgh wore a look of complete calm. A chilling calm, the sort of calm that told you that there was far more at play. Harry shivered, and Tadgh leaned forward.

‘Aye. I did hurt you, Harry. The old you, that little stain who couldn’t tap into his heritage. That cowardly, useless little child. That’s the one I had to beat out of you, the real you. To be honest, I thought you were buried, trapped underneath your Mother’s weakness!’

‘...You-You hurt m-me cause..c-cause I couldn’t d-do stuff when I-I snapped my fingers..?,’ Harry murmured, not to his Father or really anything in particular. The revelation hollowed out his stomach in moments, and Harry felt himself sway slightly in anger. Tadgh nodded before he raised his hand and Harry jumped, quickly zoning back into reality. Rather than hit him, Tadgh snapped his fingers and Harry’s plate flew over towards him. The boy went wide-eyed, and the anger rushed to his head.

‘You-You can d-do it t-too!?’

‘Yes, I can, didn’t think the old you was worth telling, plus the booze didn’t help either, but I managed to get myself sober this morning!,’ Tadgh laughed heartily, nodding towards the old hose outside and not seeming to care in the slightest about the anger slowly creeping onto Harry’s face.

‘But-But I’ve always been..been a-able to d-do it!!,’ Harry exclaimed, shaking a little and Tadgh looked back at him, scratching his chin in surprise.

‘Really? Well, suppose it explains why you snapped your fingers at me, but ya should’ve told me then, ya fool! You could’ve saved yourself all the hurt and we could be back at home too-!’

‘MY SISTER!,’ Harry shouted, gripping the table, ‘ ‘YOU-YOU TOLD ME I H-HAD A SISTER!,’ as he quickly became hoarse. His Father cursed under his breath, before he leaned forward and grabbed Harry by the chin, pulling him in as the boy struggled in vain.

‘A sister, you say?’ Tadgh asked, a mocking smile on his face and a glint in his eye, ‘Harry..you don’t have a sister..where have you gotten that idea from?,’ he said slowly, like he was reading a children's story. Harry inhaled sharply, and realised his Father had a sort of hold on his mind again. This time, he felt yesterday's memory of his Father’s drunken revelation being pulled away. But..he already knew that, right-?

Harry suddenly realised that his memory was fading, like a piece of paper dissolving in water. First, the part where Tadgh had stormed in and thrown him off his bed faded. Then it slowly started to be followed by the merciless beating Harry had received because he’d dared to forget Father’s day and nibbled on an apple in the fridge as well.

His Father was trying to make him forget he had a sister.

Harry formed his hands into fists and slammed them on the table in opposition, splattering milk all over. It did little to break Tadgh’s focus, who was closing in on that precious revelation by the second. Harry could seemingly do nothing, when something within him reacted. He felt his thumbnails slide underneath his index finger, raise his hands up slowly before he snapped both his fingers at the same time. The cereal bowl was thrown back and shattered in mid air, showering both father and son in shards of porcelain. Harry managed to turn away in time, shielding his face from the blast, while his Father was thrown backwards in his chair, sent sliding across the room as the chair legs scraped against the floor.

Despite the horrible noise and the shock of the blast, Harry felt himself smile. He’d won, somehow. He’d been able to fend off his Father’s attack and could still remember that he had a sister out there somewhere, along with the beating the day before. He was quickly brought back to reality by his Father however, but again in a way Harry would never have expected; he was laughing. It was a dark, low laugh but it seemed he was genuinely happy, clapping his hands together as he stood up.

‘Well done! By the Light, to think there’s still that much left!,’ he laughed as Harry fully absorbed what he’d said a minute ago. All the abuse..the days gone without food..the neglect that had him going around in clothes that were too small for him..all because his Father had thought he couldn’t do magic? And because of that it made him unworthy of love and affection?

Harry felt the anger take hold of him, and immediately raised his hand to lash out, but his Father just quicker. Far quicker. In a split-second, he snapped his fingers and Harry gasped, clutching the right side of his chest. He’d heard a loud crk and he had to loosen his hold as a dull, bruising pain spread around his ribcage. He looked up at his Father, whose expression now finally changed to that angry, malicious one that Harry had always been familiar with.

‘I’m proud of you, but attack your Father like that again and there’ll be bad consequences,’ Tadgh explained darkly, ‘We’’l deal with that precious memory of yours later, it’s only going to cause us trouble, clearly! But right now we have places to be! Go up and pack your things,’ he ordered, though he had to advance when Harry didn’t move initially.

As he scrambled up the stairs, every short breath of Harry’s hurt his chest as he stumbled into his room. His mind was a swirl of constant emotions, but he couldn’t sit down to try and comprehend it as his Father came up after him. Forcing himself to go along with the orders, Harry took his tattered old school bag from his wardrobe and changed into his regular clothes. As he packed his toys in between his pyjamas though, he struggled to understand just what this was all about.

Only one person had those answers, and Harry couldn't remember he had actually asked his Father a question. Questions were usually seen as a bother, and would be met with a sharp rebuttal, a slap or both if Tadgh was in a particularly bad mood. However, his Father seemed to have remained in his good mood, despite what Harry’s injured rib said otherwise. So, with his heart in his chest, the boy moved towards his door and rested against the doorframe.

‘Wh-Where are we-we going?,’ Harry asked the wall in front of him. Tadgh poked his head around the corner, before he studied the wall opposite as well, his expression almost dream like before he looked back at his son.

‘We're going home, our real home, not this depressing hovel of a place..and why aren't you packing!?’ He demanded, the contempt slipping back into his voice. Harry had tried to retreat, but his chest objected for the time being. Taking a breath to steady himself, he didn't dare to look up at his Father but managed a brave response as he soaked up the revelation.

‘I'm..I'm done..,’ he breathed and Tadgh looked from him to his bedroom before he thumbed over his shoulder, ordering him wordlessly downstairs. Harry double checked everything, making sure the model rocket was packed safely before he shrugged the bag over his shoulder. His Father hadn't returned the toy he'd stolen from him yet and Harry doubted he'd ever see it again, as he made his way down into the hall. Here, he pulled on his little green rain jacket and sat down against the wall to wait…

‘...Oi..Oi, wake up!,’ Tadgh ordered sharply, pinching Harry’s arm and the boy shot awake, looking all around. He again wondered briefly if it had all been a dream, but on feeling the dull pain in his side and seeing his Father with two bags swung over his back he quickly sobered up to reality. Ushered out the front door, Harry wondered briefly how long he'd been out for, and further about this “real home” that he'd been told about. The fact that he was being forced to abandon the only home he knew and indeed his entire way of life was still sinking in. As he tried to soak it all up again; Tadgh dropped the house keys in the sewer after locking the door.

Harry found himself in a sort of limbo as Tadgh started the old banger of a car he owned, the very same car he'd used to evade the Safety Patrol in, and began to drive them out of Holyhead. He felt nothing towards the house, even if his room had been a sort of safe space. Still, he wasn't looking forward to wherever they were headed either, as the car pulled out of Holyhead. The whole time, Harry kept the thought of his Mum and Sister in his mind, both out of fear his Father might try to make him forget again and because he realised he was only being pulled further away from them.

‘Anywho, you’re probably wondering just what you are, who you are,’ Tadgh said, looking at Harry briefly in the window. Harry didn’t respond or look back, and just continued staring out the window drearily. Tadgh didn’t seem to care and continued.

‘You and I are what they call faeries, the little folk. But none of that is true, Harry, because you and I are Tuatha De Dannan..the most powerful race in the world! We, and only we, have access to the true power of magic, something that only those born with can truly understand! Don’t you see?,’ Tadgh asked, turning around as they stopped in traffic, ‘You’re lucky, blessed actually. You are going to be a powerful warrior, my legacy!’

Harry didn’t respond, and Tadgh grumbled something as he turned around to drive on. The boy's emotions had flatlined, despondent at being torn away from any chance of seeing his Mum and Sister as well as the World as he knew it. As always, the fear of the unknown also kept him silent, as their journey continued. They stopped once for petrol, and Tadgh threw a couple packets of crisps at him while he enjoyed a large BLT. He seemed to be in a World of his own; so much so that Harry managed to sneakily eat a bit of bacon that had fallen down behind him.

Saving a pack of crisps for later, Harry again stared silently as the countryside flew past them. They'd been driving for over an hour now and had gone through one or two towns. The main road had been left behind a while ago, replaced by narrow country lanes as Harry caught one or two signs indicating they were in “Snowdonia” or “Beautiful Snowdonia”.

And it really was beautiful. Harry became lost in its Summer scenery for a moment, its lush green fields and emerald treetops going on for seemingly forever. It was close to where he imagined staring up at the stars with his Mum, and he felt himself become a little teary at the idea that it would probably never happen. All he had, and would have, of his real family were pictures created through painful imagination rather than genuine memories, if even. His Father might just come after the idea of her as well-

The car stopped suddenly and Harry was jostled in his seat, as his Father sat staring ahead at something in front of them, tapping his finger on the wheel as he did. Looking out the front window, Harry saw they'd stopped at a fork in the road. The road went off to the right, while the route ahead was gated off with a sign in Welsh reading “Caerwych”. Harry didn't know much Welsh, but reasoned it meant “Private,” something his Father would hardly respect as he turned off the car and got out, muttering under his breath as he took his bags from the passenger seat.

‘Come on, we’ll walk the rest of the way,’ he explained gruffly as he slammed the door shut after Harry. The boy hesitated at the gate, but suddenly felt his Father grab the back of his top and hoist him over to the other side. He dropped him and Harry stumbled; as Tadgh climbed over the gate and sent him on ahead with a stiff wave of the hand.

‘People like you and me have a right to walk wherever we wish..it's something these non-folk would never understand!’ His Father explained, sounding irritated as Harry made his way along the road, which stretched ahead into the horizon. He looked back at his Father momentarily, before he quickened his pace at his glare.

Tadgh closed the distance though, placing a firm hand on Harry’s shoulder as he pointed out ahead of them. Harry followed, but could see nothing of note; just endless rolling hills and the endless road before them.

‘Do you hear it? Do you hear the land calling out to you?’ Tadgh asked, eyes boring into the top of Harry’s skull as he did. Harry strained his ears; and to his astonishment he could hear something. On the light Summer breeze, there was the faintest hint of music, like a flute and the sound only became more prominent as Father and Son continued on in silence.

But the walk soon became an arduous one for Harry, especially as his injured rib made itself felt time and again. He began to slow, breaths becoming quick and short as he swung his bag around and rooted around for the crisps. Just as he was about to open them though, Tadgh reached forward and grabbed the bag from his hand. Harry looked back, despondent at having his food taken from him when Tadgh offered an alternative; grass.

‘Gr-Grass..!?’ Harry mumbled in disbelief, looking up at his Father, who's nostrils flared as if his son had just turned down an expensive three course meal.

‘The land will provide for you! It will nurture you! This is how we Tuatha De Dannan sustain ourselves, not living off rubbish like this!!,’ his Father exclaimed angrily, throwing the crisps behind him.

But Harry had had enough. He'd been forced from home, driven to some unknown fate in the middle of nowhere and now was being forced to eat grass, all while he dealt with his cracked rib. Again, the anger washed over him, and while he didn’t lash out with magic, Harry’s voice refused to be contained, once again ignoring his instincts.

‘This..T-This isn’t what I-I want! I want to go h-home! I-I don’t want to be a w-warrior! W-Why can’t we just..just go back to..to M-Mu-!?’

Tadgh grabbed Harry by collar before he could finish, and hoisted him into the air, teeth gritted in a furious rage. The boy momentarily kicked out before he stopped, as Tadh held up his fingers dramatically, before he snapped them and Harry heard another rib crk inside him. His Father pulled him in close, seething in rage and the stench of alcohol still hanging on his breath.

‘You..,’ he hissed, almost unable to speak due to his anger, ‘..are an ungrateful little bastard! Your Mother..dear Johanna..she refused to see your potential, refused to see my perspective, so I took you for myself! All the way down here, to fecking Wales!! But the Tuatha wouldn't take you, because they said you had no magic, none!! Because even then you had decided to turn your back on me!!

‘I could have left you in the woods to die, but I didn't! Because I care about you, because I see your potential! You will be my legacy..the most powerful warrior in recent times!,’ Tadgh repeated, briefly becoming lost in his delusions before coming back to reality. He pulled Harry closer, nose inches from his and holding a furious finger up to him as he did.

‘And because I care about you..I'm going to carry you, like I've carried you for these past twelve miserable years!,’ he spat angrily, before opening his palm to reveal the grass again, ‘But only if you eat what the land offers you first!’
______________

Harry was awakened when Tadgh shook him off his back and he landed haphazardly on the ground, groaning a little as his ribs sang in pain. He'd passed out after he'd been hoisted up back on the road, reawakening at one point to find they had moved off it and that his Father was trekking through some boggy moorland. Now, looking around, he saw that they were an even more isolated area than before.

Hills rolled on around them, and Harry could see lakes shining in the distance like great, massive pearls. They were high up, as a Summer breeze hit him in the face with such force that he was almost pushed backwards onto the ground. And again, he heard the sound of the flutes, but this time it was joined by the sound of a drum, its beat full of life and its rhythm hypnotising.

But Harry wasn't in the mood for music, stomach growling despite the hearty helping of grass Tadgh had made him eat on their way up. Speaking of, his Father was crouched in the middle of a large, crude circle of stones, having deposited his bags beside him. Dotted around its edges were short, spiky pillars as if it were a crown, while Harry thought of a comet entering the atmosphere; like the fire of its descent was frozen on impact. Whatever this place was, it was clearly thoroughly ancient as the breeze dropped slightly and Harry was able to pick up on what his Father was saying as knocked four times on one rugged surface.

‘Geataí na Cinniúint...tigh agus breithnigh mé fiú’

It wasn’t English, and Harry cocked his head slightly in confusion as Tadgh repeated this phrase over and over, knocking on the stone each time. Harry could hear him becoming impatient as he did so, though. Whatever was about to happen, it clearly wasn't supposed to take this long but just as Harry began to wonder how long they’d be stuck out here, the ground before his Father buckled slightly. It was like boiling water, and Tadgh took a step back as a wide hole appeared, taking with it some of the aged stones. Harry moved back as well, unnerved and then completely astonished, when a man emerged from the hole.

He was shorter than his father and much skinnier too, as a brown hand swept away some of the debris that had fallen on his green cloak, which had a gold hem along the bottom. He pulled back his hood to reveal his appearance; short, faded hair that went down in braids behind his head, along with a brilliant pair of hazelnut eyes. Harry, looking out from behind a standing stone, noticed his Father’s face seemed to crinkle a little in confusion before he coughed politely.

‘An tusa an geataí?,’ he asked in that mysterious language, but the man seemed to understand and nodded.

‘Yes, I am a gatekeeper..but no one has used this gate in a while!,’ the man laughed heartily and in plain english. Harry felt himself smile slightly at Tadgh’s confusion, before his Father recalibrated and pushed on with the conversation, beckoning Harry over to which the boy answered reluctantly.

‘Well..my son and I are looking to return home, we’ve been stuck up here for a while. I tried to get through before, but I was told that he didn’t know enough magic then. That’s changed now, hasn’t it, Harry?,’ His Father asked, sounding chipper and the boy nodded quickly as Tadgh tightened his grip on his shoulder. The Gatekeeper studied Harry for a moment, his calm eyes seeming to look into his very soul before he looked back up at Tadgh.

‘I’m going to need some proof of magic first, it will be hard for him to settle down there otherwise,’ he explained and Tadgh crouched down next to his son, though Harry knew well by now this kindly attitude of his was a front and stared back coldly.

‘Why don’t you show our kinsman here your skills?,’ his Father suggested, his expression remaining warm but his eyes being filled wide and very much conveying a ‘Don’t try anything’ attitude. Harry stepped away and sat down cross-legged before them. As he tried to settle his mind, Harry heard the music drifting around him as another breeze swept by. In fact, it seemed to be coming from the hole that the Gatekeeper had emerged from; Harry wondered briefly if he could make a dash for it-

‘Harry, come on now, can’t keep our friend waiting!,’ Tadgh interjected and Harry took a breath before he closed his eyes. He began to snap his fingers, the image of his Mum appeared and Harry imagined that they were out camping. Sat on her lap, he began to point up at the stars above them, safe in her embrace. Then, another figure appeared, who was his height and shared his blue hair as well; his sister. The girl sat down next to them, looking up to the sky at Harry’s point in silence. She was smiling and looked genuinely interested, as Harry hoped she’d be if they ever met-

Suddenly, the image began to fade. The woods, his family, the night sky, all of it disappeared before Harry could react. He realised he was in his room back in Holyhead, and that he couldn’t hear the snaps of his fingers anymore either. He shivered and pulled his legs up his chest; the room seemed colder, as devoid of joy as the rest of the house, when his Father appeared in the doorway. Harry blinked, getting a sense of deja-vu as Tadgh slammed his hand flat against the door and heaved himself inside. He eyed his son wickedly, as he steadied himself on the bed frame.

‘Hello, runt,’ Tadgh sneered, the alcohol hanging off his breath, ‘Any idea..Any idea what day it is..?’

His voice sounded distant and echoey, and his movements were slower too as Harry found himself being lifted up off the bed and thrown over the side onto the floor. He braced, but felt no pain, instead the floor rippled like a puddle as his Father came around and pulled him up by the hair. Again, no pain, and Harry remained confused until he saw a figure over his Father’s shoulder. At first he hoped it was his Mum, here to save him, but then there was a click and Tadgh froze in place. Hair still trapped in his Father’s hand, Harry could see that it was the Gatekeeper.

Initially, as the man looked at him sorrowfully, Harry wondered how he’d managed to pierce his mind but quickly moved himself on. It was clear the man was trying to help him, and though he was uncomfortable with someone rifling through his memories, Harry nodded for him to continue. Another snap and they were brought to when Tadgh had begun to beat Harry over the apple. Then the Gatekeeper fast-forwarded to Harry’s first open use of his powers, before the scene shifted into the kitchen just this morning.

Harry was back in his seat, and flinched as he forced his Father back and the chair went howling across the floor. The Gatekeeper had watched each scene with an ever growing despondency on his face, but when Tadgh lashed out and cracked one of Harry’s ribs, his anger was obvious. With a final, furious snap he disappeared and Harry reawakened, gasping for air. It was like he’d forgotten how to breathe, as the Gatekeeper rounded on his Father.

‘Yes, it looks like the boy is gifted..,’ he began, before with a wave of his hand he pulled three instances of Tadgh’s abuse from Harry’s mind. Surrounding his Father like a triangle, Harry shuddered at just how manic each of them looked, lost in an irrational and violent anger. The actual Tadgh looked livid, snapping away each of them in quick succession.

‘He was weak! Yes, it was extreme but I had to get it out somehow, didn’t I?,’ he snarled, as they began to pace around each other. Harry darted to his left and froze, trembling, behind the Gatekeeper as he paused in front of him. Tadgh’s fists curled in rage and Harry thought he could make out a vein throbbing on the side of his head. Then, in a swift motion, Tadgh darted left and tried to snap one of Harry’s ribs for his insubordination. The boy fell back in fright, only for the Gatekeeper to cancel out the attack with a snap of his own. His look was restrained, though the disgust was evident.

‘The Tuatha De Dannan are not blind, and I can see plainly what stands before me; a monster who only cares about himself!,’ he replied, anger slipping in, ‘I’m bound by my pledges to protect those who come to me!’

‘I came to you!!,’ Tadgh snapped back, ‘He’s..He’s nothing without me!’

‘We’ll see,’ the Gatekeeper replied, before with a quick snap he caused Tadgh to stumble back, gripping his chest and breathing sharply. Harry realised that the Gatekeeper had probably cracked his rib and tittered slightly. He didn’t enjoy seeing others in pain, but it was nice seeing his Father get a taste of his own medicine for once. Tadgh noticed this and the vein on his head throbbed faster as he pointed a finger at Harry, not to maim but instead in white hot anger and denial.

‘YOU-YOU PIECE OF SCUM!! I’M YOUR FAMILY!! YOU WOULD BETRAY YOUR OWN BLOOD!?,’ Tadgh roared, apoplectic as he aimed another snap at Harry. The Gatekeeper intercepted it again, but it seemed this one was more powerful and Harry fell to his knees, winded. His protectors look stiffened, and quickly unbalanced Tadgh with a few more snaps.

‘The only betraying their blood here is you. The Tuatha De Danann are this boy's family now, and I will make sure you do not haunt him again!,’ he exclaimed but Harry looked up at him in confusion. He’d hoped that this encounter would have led to him being reunited with his Mum and Sister, but before he could try and speak up, the Gatekeeper snapped his fingers. Harry was pulled down and dragged along the ground towards the gaping hole in the ground. Desperately, the boy clawed at the dirt, calling out in a panic as he did.

‘Wait! Wait!! I don’t want to!! I-I just want my Mummmm!!’

The world above disappeared and the last thing Harry saw, perhaps what he’d ever see, was his Father’s livid expression as he squared up to the Gatekeeper. Plummeting into the abyss, Harry tried to cling on the walls but found none, arms and legs flailing as he fell further and further. The opening above shrank until it became indiscernible amongst the black, as Harry’s screams echoed all around him. He tried snapping his fingers, but the brief sparks of orange light fizzled out almost immediately. His bag became loose and flew off his back into the unknown. Tears flowing upwards, Harry’s hopeless descent away from all he’d known and dreamed of continued endlessly-

WHAM

The ground shook at his impact despite his frail nature. Every bone in his body cried out and the air was completely knocked out of him. His vision was blurred and refused to centre. For a moment, black pulled at his periphery as the pain caused him to curl up and start to bawl, but no sound came out. Instead, Harry vomited up the grass and what felt like so much more as he balled up on all fours, retching violently.

He was dying; he would die down here in agony, never understanding who he was and never having met his Mum or sister. But somewhere, amidst his despair, one small but fierce bit of determination crawled to the surface. Reaching out with one hand, Harry snapped his fingers, hoping to her face one, final time-

The world lit up like a torch and his energy came rushing back. Gasping, Harry managed to stop himself from falling into his puke and instead rose up. On his knees, he gulped down the pure air that filled his lungs and made his nostrils tingle. In a nearby bush, Harry spied his bag and managed to stumble over, as the energy slowed from a flood to a trickle. Feeling that it was ten times heavier, Harry looked about and saw that he was in a grove, blossoming with life. Flowers of all varieties covered dotted the bushes, and Harry picked up on the sound of music again. It led towards a crack of light, down a narrow, winding path.

He made his way towards it, having to shield himself as he came closer, its brightness comparable to the surface of a star. Once he was just a couple of paces away, Harry felt himself be lifted up. He didn’t panic this time; in fact, it felt like he was being lifted into someone's arms as a woman’s voice circled around his head, soft and welcoming.

‘Harry..Harry..’

‘Mum..,’ Harry murmured tiredly, ready to drift asleep in her arms when his world changed once again. This time, he was somersaulted into existence and landed in a heap on the ground. Harry didn’t notice the impact nor the groan of his injured ribs as he rolled over. Eyes barely staying open, he saw he was in a field, with sheep running away from him in a panic. His stomach growled and his eyes drooped lower, as a booming bark rattled him long enough to hear a girl's voice, far, far away…

‘Ború! Ború! Stad! Stad!’

Chapter Text

It was never going to be easy.

This is what Johanna thought as she sat in the car next to the library and remained still, clutching the wheel. It had been a long, long time since she had been here, a long, long time since she had faced the woman who had her best friend in a duel that shook the library's foundations. A long, long time since she had cut herself off from magic because of it and Harry’s kidnapping.

Because Johanna hadn’t been a run of the mill Witch, no. Her job outside of College had been none other than that of Trollberg’s resident Librarian. And it was during that time that Kaisa had begun her training, a pale, spotty girl brought in by Johanna herself. After a fight with her best friend in the depths of the Library, Johanna had taken a break, always intended to be a temporary thing. For a couple of months, Kaisa would get some unique experience helping to manage the Library; a unique experience that had evolved into a full time job. 

For Johanna, abandoning her old life had meant abandoning Kaisa as well. The girl had only been eighteen when everything had happened, and Johanna’s guilt had doubled that morning when Hilda had told her all about who she called ‘The coolest Witch ever!’. While it sounded like Kaisa had become incredibly skilled, it seemed like she was completely overworked too. Johanna also wondered if she had ever gotten past that roadblock of forgetting certain spells, as she pushed open the front doors.

The Library was mostly empty and Kaisa wasn’t at her desk due to the fact it was an early Monday morning. The only people present were some parents and their toddlers, reading in the aisles quietly. Johanna walked around silently, taking the place in as she did. Kaisa had moved some things around, such as the Science Fiction section, her favourite genre, now being close to the secret room behind the shelves rather than down on the ground floor as Johanna had it. Walking around some more, Johanna noticed newer genres such as Westerns and Horror, where she saw a girl with blonde hair and some bad acne with a jacket that was too big for her browsing the books. There was even an area for movies and music, it seemed Kaisa was making an effort to bring younger people in, which had been an issue during Johanna’s time.

Peering up to the upper levels, Johanna’s eyes narrowed as they darted all around, looking for any sign of Kaisa, and after a few minutes finally caught sight of her, but Johanna almost couldn’t believe it. The purple highlights she could understand, and the robe was something Kaisa always wore too, but that was it. There was no sign of the baggy jeans or purple jumper. Instead, her old protege was wearing the typical Librarian uniform, which she’d always complained was old fashioned and would never wear.

Naturally, Johanna’s lingering gaze eventually made Kaisa start looking around. When her eyes settled on Johanna, Kaisa froze and the sound of the books she was carrying hitting the floor snapped Johanna out of her trace. Blinking, she noticed Kaisa had disappeared in seconds, but she knew immediately where her friend had gone. Racing up the stairs while the few people in the library were distracted by the sound of the books, she reached the secret door in time for it to snap shut, Kaisa having disappeared inside. Before she could reach for the book that opened it, Johanna heard a clunk from within. 

Kaisa had locked the door.

Taking a step back, Johanna recalibrated. Kaisa obviously wanted nothing to do with her. Johanna took a moment, sitting down at a desk and massaging her temples, getting a hold of her guilt. There were ways into the room beside the entrance, she just had to remember them. The duel with her former best friend and Harry’s subsequent kidnapping had caused her connection to magic to be suppressed; she couldn’t even conjure a door. She shook a little, doing battle with her past.

Johanna put her fists on the table, pushing the negativity out. No, she still had those powers on her, she knew she could do it. Getting up, she headed to the bathroom to create the door in private, remembering what she would tell Hilda whenever her daughter struggled with maths homework. To crack on and get it done, right or wrong.

Well, actually, the door had to be right, otherwise she would fall into a bottomless void of no return.

And it didn't mean it wasn't difficult either. Each time she tried to dredge up her abilities, they were swamped by the memories of her failure. How she'd lost crucial time conjuring a door, when Tadgh had broken in. How she'd just barely missed him with a spell a few minutes later. The whole time, Harry’s infant cries echoed around her head like an air-raid siren and Johanna found herself crying. It only made the situation worse, as magic couldn't be easily called on if the Witch was emotional.

Leaning against the stall door, Johanna closed her eyes and tried to get a hold of herself. She tried to go back over the good times; when she'd passed the trials to be a Librarian or helped to teach Kaisa in the little room she was now barred from. But all those memories were tainted now; by Sandra, by Tadgh, by her failure…

‘MAMA! MAMA!’

Johanna just slumped against the door and let the tears fall. Hugging herself tightly amidst the maelstrom, she focused her thoughts on Hilda. She’d forgiven her despite having the truth kept from her for so long, and was certain that Kaisa would as well. The only reason her daughter wasn’t here right now was because she wanted to catch up with David and Frida. But Johanna knew she was against the clock; if she took too long, Hilda would certainly come looking for her. 

The idea that she might stumble on the first step caused Johanna to start hyperventilating. If Hilda did come searching, and Kaisa still rejected her, what then? Hilda would react angrily. In the middle would be Frida, her friendship on one side and her future training on the other. Failure here..it would only result in more hurt, more suffering. And usually, those worries would just bury the magic deeper..but instead resulted in something miraculous. 

Staring up at the ceiling, Johanna refused to fail Hilda a second time, and that raw, emotional determination pulled the magic from the depths of her tortured mind. Flicking her hands like she was flicking water from them, Johanna saw them become surrounded in a blue light. Everything felt..sharper and it was as if she had just been reunited with an old friend. Johanna savoured the feeling for a moment, before she reached out. Before the porcelain throne, a door appeared and from here it was easy; all Johanna had to do was imagine the room on the other end.

Pushing the door open after a minute, that old musty smell immediately hit Johanna in the face, sending her back to the countless training sessions and late nights spent going through the list of overdue books. Stepping inside, Johanna stood up and gazed around at the bookshelves, before her eyes settled on the tall armchair in the corner. Sat in it was her protege, and on the table in front was a plate of tea and biscuits. Another chair, seemingly magicked up the occasion, was sat opposite her. Surprised, Johanna shrugged off her coat and hung off the back of the chair. Kaisa exhaled as she sat down, pouring them both a cup of tea with a wave of her finger.

'I'm..I'm sorry,' she breathed before Johanna could say anything, 'I couldn't believe it was really you..'

Johanna didn't say anything immediately, still surprised that Kaisa was being so considerate in the first place. After all, she'd completely vanished from the woman's wife when Kaisa needed her most. Johanna had been a shoulder to cry on, someone to talk to about things both good and bad. Because Kaisa had grown up with little people to rely on, subject to bullying for her pale, spotty appearance Worse, she'd been the older sister to twins who were the center of attention the moment they were born.

And Johanna had left her alone, first taking time off after the clash with her old friend, down in the Committee Chambers. Then she'd abandoned Kaisa completely after Harry had been kidnapped. Kaisa's brow furrowed as the silence lengthened, before she reached out and took Johanna's hand, causing the woman to startle before she wiped her eyes with her thumb.

'`Anna, really, I'm..I'm so happy to see you! Over the moon!,' Kaisa grinned, also feeling herself become teary eyed. Johanna blinked in surprise, cautiously tightening her grip on Kaisa's hand.

'But..But I abandoned you, I-I just disappeared when you were so young..'

'I..I know that,' Kaisa breathed, '..and I know I always told you I-I hated reading newspapers but..but when Tildy told me what happened..'

'You knew..?,' Johanna asked, smiling weakly. She'd naturally never bothered to read the papers after what had happened, but it didn't surprise her that Harry would've been big news.

'Of course! Tildy and I..we both knew! I-I couldn't really help her search for you though-'

'-She was searching for me!?,' Johanna gasped, feeling the guilt spike before the dam broke completely without warning. Kaisa rubbed circles around her back, retrieving a pack of tissues from within her cloak which a sobbing Johanna took gratefully. They had little effect at first, but once Johanna leaned back in the chair and took some deep breaths, she was able to get her emotions back under control. Wiping her eyes, Johanna looked up at Kaisa, fully taking in all that she had said to her. Her protege's kind words had been blunted by the wall of guilt that Johanna had put up around herself. She had assumed that Kaisa would be angry, but it was so clearly been the opposite that it had Johanna's mind into a tailspin.

'..You were both searching for me..,' she repeated, smiling softly.

'Well, it was really Tildy..I couldn't do much,' Kaisa explained, a twinge of regret in her voice.

'Oh, Kaisa..you were the Librarian, you had so much on your plate already-!,' Johanna began to reassure before stopped, the words becoming stuck in the her throat as she stared at her old friend.

'Y-You're the Librarian!,' she gasped, before she held her head in her hands, '..oh my goodness..how long..how long has it been..?.' she murmured, as Kaisa placed a hand on her shoulder in reassurance.

'`Anna, please, I was eighteen! Besides, I was used to spending all day here already, it wasn't a big change..,' she muttered. Again, Johanna felt the guilt build up and she took Kaisa's hand. At the time of her departure, Kaisa's relationship with her parents had been in a downward spiral for a while. To their credit, her Mother and Father had realised that they'd spent too much time focused on their young twins, but by the time they finally tried reaching out to Kaisa it was too late. Thoroughly alienated and feeling she'd known where her real home had been for years now, Kaisa had stormed out after a massive argument. It had been a couple of weeks after Harry's kidnapping, and her family hadn't tried to reach out since.

'What happened, Kaisa?,' Johanna asked, sitting up but the younger Witch shook her head and waved her off.

'This..This is about you, `Anna, not me..but I've been running the place by myself since I was twenty one. Tildy was able to see off the Committee for me, and I had some your friends from the Coven helping me for a couple years, but since then I've been by myself'

'I..I see,' Johanna breathed, her worries slightly placated and placing her hands on her knees to steady herself. She exhaled, and with renewed determination looked back at Kaisa.

'Alright..where do you want to you start?'

‘This clash down in the Committee chamber..there were countless rumours but-but only I knew that you were there. Tildy told me a week after it happened but..but nothing more. I missed you..I just wanted to know if..if you were ok!,’ Kaisa sniffed. Johanna nodded and wiped away some loose tears, not hearing herself begin to explain as she descended down into the depths of her mind, all the way to the first of her trials, all those years ago…

…The sprint she had been in since entering the LIbrary had her breathless and fatigued as she stumbled into the bottom of the Tower, where the Committee of Three would have their meetings and by the looks of it, where they would take their last breaths. Looking around in horror, she saw them scattered around the room, unmoving, their bodies contorted and bones clearly broken. A cruel, corrupted laugh brought her attention to the centre of the room, where the Keeper of The Void was hunched over before a figure in a purple cloak. The man coughed up some blood, gripping his instrument tightly as the figure raised a hand..

‘SANDRA!!’

The figure turned and looked up at her lazily. Sandra’s eyes were tainted completely purple with a malicious smirk on her face as she raised the Void Keeper up in a choke hold, the man kicking and gasping as she looked on in disbelief. How did it come to this?

‘Oh..I thought I had stopped anyone from getting word out..whatever..it doesn’t matter,’ her old friend murmured, a sinister echo in her voice behind every word she said as the portal fizzled out behind her. Knowing there was probably no negotiating with her, she took her wand and stance. Sandra laughed, tossing the Void Keeper behind her, where he crumpled against the Stone Monolith the Committee usually stood at.

‘You intend to stop me, Johanna? You don’t have to, you know..I stand on the cusp of power not seen in millennia. You can join me! People will worship us, answer our every whim! We could solve every problem the World has ever known or will know! We could be GODS!’

‘I’d rather stay being Johanna, you miserable old spirit!’ she spat, addressing not Sandra but the entity cohabiting her body with her. Her old friend scowled at the insult, as they began to walk in a circle, not taking their eyes off of each other.

‘You would be wise not to insult the Phantom Queen..’

‘You would have been wise to not trust her at all!’

‘You don’t have to do this, Johanna..think of your children..’

‘I will not raise my children in a World of Darkness and chaos!’

‘Chaos will be your peace and Darkness your Light! If you will not kneel then I will make you!’

‘Try me!’ she shot back, as the room momentarily trembled and books flew from the shelves, some of which began to fall from their loose placements. Feeling the adrenaline, she held her wand close, knowing that this would be to do or die..

____________________

While Johanna and Kaisa slowly reconciled, Hilda was in David’s house and crying into a cup of tea of her own, with a comforting blanket around her shoulders. Up in his room, she had been slowly but painfully telling them everything she’d learned yesterday. It hadn’t been remotely easy; Hilda was exhausted, having been up half the night still processing everything and so far she’d taken what felt like a hundred breaks to cry her eyes out. She wasn’t even halfway through either, and it was this fact that finally forced her friends to act.

‘Hilda..,’ David interjected as the girl shakily set her tea down and tried to get back on track, ‘I..I think you need some more time to absorb this, ya get me?,’ he continued gently while Frida nodded wordlessly beside him, stunned by what she'd heard. Hilda’s bottom lip trembled as she held her head, shaking it quickly.

‘I don’t want it in here..,’ she mumbled, ‘..all I can think about is-is how he just didn’t care!,’ she exclaimed tearfully, pounding the floor with her fists. The liquid in the cup bounced, though it thankfully remained stable as Frida moved closer and pulled her friend into a hug. Hilda opened an arm for David to join in and they all remained like that for a moment. Twig nosed his way in as well, dutifully trying to lick away Hilda’s tears. The trio pulled apart to avoid his antlers, Hilda giggling softly as she moved the cup out of harm's way.

‘I say talk it over with your Mum again, I’m sure it’ll do you both good!,’ Frida encouraged softly, but Hilda shook her head mournfully at this.

‘No, she’s..she’s already talked about it enough,’ she murmured in stark contrast to yesterday, ‘But..But maybe you’re right, David..it's just..,’ Hilda began, before trailing off. David had an idea of what she meant, pausing at pulling something out from under his bed.

‘Yeah, it hurts. I’d be hurt too if I had a Dad like that-’

‘No,’ Hilda cut-in, anger etched across her pale face, though her eyes were mournful, ‘I don’t have a Dad, not after yesterday. He took Harry and ruined Mum’s life! He-He ruined my life!!,’ she spat angrily before she retreated to the comfort of Frida’s oncoming embrace. Harry being taken stunned both of them, but David and Frida kept their questions down for the time being. In the meantime, David retrieved what turned out to be a box of chocolates from under his bed. Hilda looked out at it, eyes narrowed before they went wide.

‘You..You guys got that many posters up!?,’ she asked in disbelief, before she put a hand to her head. She’d, understandably, forgotten about what they’d done in Sparrow Scouts yesterday and with that memory she also remembered Trevor. Remembered how for the first time in her life, she’d lashed out at someone in anger. 

‘You feel bad?,’ David asked, surprised as he opened the tin, ‘He got all personal cause you got a good jab in at him! He insulted your Mum too!,’ he added but Hilda remained silent, studying her fist. There was a slight mark from where one of her knuckles had hit Trevor’s teeth. She sighed, taking a couple of strawberry delights from what she now saw was a tin of Quality Street.

‘Violence solves nothing. If anything I’ve just painted a target on our backs..,’ she muttered and while Frida nodded in agreement, she also flashed her a smile.

‘Maybe, but at the same time his group will probably avoid us for the time being. I think you could do with some peace!,’ she grinned as she took a green triangle. Hilda’s brow furrowed in response, chewing her chocolate. Frida’s words had brought up her conversation with her Mum this morning. She’d talked about “making peace” with more of her past. With a snap of her fingers, Hilda looked to Frida eagerly, who was both surprised and glad that she had something to be happy about.

‘I was going to save this till the end but..but Mum’s a Witch!,’ Hilda gleed, beckoning David in closer so she could whisper. She laughed at her friends’ astonishment and Frida actually lurched back in surprise, blinking several times while David just sat there, amazed yet somehow feeling..distant? He wasn’t quite sure how to describe it, as Frida breathed a massive sigh of relief.

‘That..That makes my life a whole lot easier!,’ she grinned, ‘Especially since you’re my familiar! My parents finding out would be..well it’d be bad.. but I still wouldn’t have lost you from it! Have..Have you told her about me?,’ she asked as Hilda quickly looked at her from David. He seemed..uncomfortable with this new reality, and she had a slight feeling as to why but decided to confront him privately when she had the chance.

‘I did..it was kind of by accident 'cause, well, a lot of stuff could’ve been avoided if she’d just told me!,’ Hilda explained, still sore at how her Mum had kept another big secret from her before she relaxed, ‘..Anyway, turns out she was the old Librarian, before Kaisa!,’ she revealed.

Frida ah’d at that. Kaisa had always avoided questions about her predecessor; Frida had always assumed she had gotten into some sort of trouble. David, meanwhile, sat in astonishment. Before all this, he'd assumed Hilda's adventurous side had come from her absent Father. Now, it seemed that it was the complete opposite and it caused David to scratch his chin. He had a hard time believing that it was the calm and patient Johanna where Hilda got her wanderlust from.

‘I’ll try to tell you guys more in a bit, but right now we need to get to Tildy. Mum’s talking to Kaisa right now, and I want to start trying to track down Harry!,’ Hilda explained eagerly, getting to her feet. Frida joined her and her excitement carried her out of  the bedroom like a light, which gave Hilda enough time to talk to David.

‘Is something up?,’ she asked as he put the box of chocolates into a bag to bring with them. David paused as he zipped it closed, which only added to Hilda’s concern as he stood up and casually swung it over his shoulder. He gave her a smile, one she thought was a little forced.

‘Nothing really..I suppose it’s just kinda a lot to take in,’ he shrugged. Hilda wanted to pin him on it, because she knew this had to be about herself and Frida being more than ordinary, while in the end David was still..David. Braver, more confident but at the end of the day, still the same as anyone. However, Hilda stopped herself. This wasn’t the time, especially as Frida’s voice called up after them. After all, he really could just be shaken up, goodness knows she was as well as they hurried downstairs. 

‘Can’t you make us a back way in?’ David asked as they said their goodbyes and thank yous to his parents. However, Frida shook her head as they made their way towards the bus stop outside his building.

‘No, Tildy’s back garden is protected by all sorts of charms. Even if I could get through, we’d have to put up with all her plants..and probably have to play her Gardener in a game of chess as well..’ she explained.

‘David’s good at chess!,’ Hilda grinned but David simply laughed and waved her off as they stuck their thumbs out for the oncoming bus. Twig went limp in Hilda’s arm, a scheme where he would pretend to be a soft toy until they were out of the driver's sight.

‘Nah, you’re so bad you make me look good!,’ he gibed, ‘Besides, still leaves us dealing with whatever crazy stuff she has in her garden..,’ he muttered as they tagged on. Hilda huffed at his initial remark as they made their way upstairs. It was a little late for her next idea as they pulled away, but she was curious as they sat down at the back together. 

‘I know what the front of her house looks like though, could you make a door based on my memory?’ she asked, whispering so as to not alert the few passengers sitting nearby. David nodded in agreement, but Frida chuckled softly and perhaps went a little pink as well.

‘Guys..I know I’m talented but I’m not that talented. One of the best parts about learning to be a Witch is how relaxed it is. I get to spend time perfecting things, instead of having someone move me along from one task to the next all the time..’

There was an awkward pause and David and Hilda glanced at each other briefly. Frida coughed, before she placed her hand on top of Hilda’s and gave her another smile.

‘Anyway..I’m not at that stage yet. Do you want to try to tell me and David about your Mum?,’ She asked and Hilda nodded, feeling David take her other hand in comfort. This part ought to be a little easier, she hoped, as the bus trundled on towards Tildy’s road. 

-10 Minutes Later-

Tildy adjusted her glasses as she peered closely at her cauldron, bubbling away softly. She had woken up that day with the feeling that everything would change, but for the better. Curious, she’d plucked some ingredients from her garden and spent the early afternoon preparing a Foresight Potion. Incredibly advanced magic, it gave Witches a brief, albeit foggy, view of the future. Tildy adjusted her glasses, peering into the mixture. Hilda appeared, walking cautiously down a grassy trail. She appeared apprehensive, but before Tildy could analyse further, the scene shifted. Next, Tildy saw the face of her old student and she smiled momentarily before looking closer. Johanna was clearly crying, and her mentor frowned in concern. Tildy couldn’t make out where she was, perhaps somewhere in the Wilderness as well, given the trees swaying softly behind her. 

Just as she thought Johanna might be smiling, the vision faded away. Nothing else came, leaving the elder Witch with her thoughts. Tildy didn't know the exact details of that fateful night, but she knew that Harry had been taken. It had been front page news the following day, next to the main headline. Tildy could remember that morning vividly, she'd spilled her tea in shock once she read Harry's name along with his description. She'd sped to Johanna's building to see if she was still there, only to be waved off by the Patrol. The Officer hadn't been keen to share details either, only that Johanna was "with family".

There were of course several methods Tildy could have used to track Johanna down herself, but all of them involved locking onto her magical aura. An aura which had been completely suffocated by what had happened to her. For once, despite her years of experience and the countless abilities she'd mastered, Tildy was utterly powerless. The only thing she'd been able to do was to search Trollberg up and down for her old pupil. Her efforts proved fruitless until one day, to her quiet shock, a blue haired girl had come knocking at her door. Hilda had admired her plants before she left, and Tildy began to see her around town constantly. Had Johanna kept her close, fearing another kidnapping? Had her eyesight been going, or had she simply missed her?

Then, during one cold afternoon, Hilda and Frida had stumbled in through her back door. After she'd helped them and Kaisa see off the Void and the Committee of Three, Tildy had invited the girls and Kaisa back to her home, eager for any news of Johanna. However, she was to be left sorely disappointed. Hilda had revealed nothing, and had seemingly only just discovered magic (Kaisa would tell her about the Tide Mice later). Again, all Tildy could do was ask her former student. Kaisa had just sighed and stepped away to clear up the game they'd been playing.

‘No. Hildy didn’t mention her at all. It wouldn’t surprise me if she didn’t know’

It was that idea that had stopped Tildy from asking Hilda about her Mum, in case she inadvertently revealed some hidden truth. She didn’t want to be responsible for Johanna suddenly having to deal with her daughter coming home and angrily demanding why she had kept this secret from her. That being said, it was clear something was about to change. The Potion only showed you people and events from the near-future, and Tildy knew that the only way she’d ever see Johanna again was if she revealed her past first. 

Closing her eyes in thought, Tildy drifted across the room and looked out towards the City. All her windows were bewitched so you could only see out of them on the inside, not so much in case her neighbours saw her making potions but because she liked gliding around her home. 

She sought out Frida first. She’d been doing this all morning, in case whatever was going to happen, happened, and she could react quickly. The girl was approaching rapidly, probably on a bus and she was in a mix of joy and shock. Tildy switched focus to Kaisa and she frowned. Her old pupil was a mix of countless emotions, sitting alone in the Library, at least that’s how it seemed at first. Instead, Tildy felt something..something familiar. There was someone else there, with a faint trace of magic but Tildy felt there was more, far more, then what she could make out. With a breath, she re-opened her eyes again, staring out onto the road.

Johanna.

Before she could linger on it for long though, there came a knock on the door. On her sofa, Cornelius looked up curiously before he roused himself and floated out into the hall. Tildy followed, landing on the floor and taking him from the air. Sensing Frida’s presence, she opened the door to reveal her latest student, alongside her Familiar and a boy she hadn’t met before. However, Tildy reasoned that it was probably David; Frida always spoke very highly of him when relaying the trio's adventures.

‘You’re welcome, you’re welcome!,’ she said warmly, though her mood faltered when she sensed Hilda as she passed; the girl was full of hurt and sadness. Guiding them into the living room, Tildy settled down in an armrest while the Trio squashed themselves together on her small sofa. She could see the hurt bubble on Hilda’s face, as her Deerfox looked up at her worriedly. Deciding not to put her through explaining things, the Elder Witch took the initiative.

‘I already know about your Mother, Hilda,’ she explained calmly, ‘I’ve been able to sense her across town with Kaisa,’ she furthered to their shocked expressions. But Hilda still looked nervous, shifting awkwardly while David placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. 

‘..You’re not angry at her?,’ Hilda murmured, looking at Tildy. Pushing her glasses up her nose, the woman shook her head, much to the relief of her guests. 

‘How can I be angry at Johanna for something that wasn't her fault in the slightest?,’ Tildy replied mournfully. Hilda went wide eyed and for a brief second anger flashed across her face as she sat up straight, staring Tildy down.

‘You..knew? About my brother?’

‘I read about what happened in the paper, and I went to your old flat immediately! But by the time I arrived there was no sign of her..,’ Tildy explained with a sigh. Hilda nodded slowly, relaxing in the chair again. Silence fell, before Tildy looked towards the window and rose from her seat, gliding over.

‘They’re gone..,’ she mused, talking to herself.

'..Mum and Kaisa?,’ Hilda asked, turning to look at her as David picked up on a sound outside and stood up to go check. Looking down the hall, he saw two people leap from a door that appeared in midair. One landed gracefully, while another stumbled slightly and looked red in the face from the experience. David knew immediately that it was Johanna and Kaisa, but became nervous when a giant of molten rock stepped in front of the window. Before he could turn to tell the others though, Hilda rushed past with Twig, with Tildy following after her.

‘That’s Tildy’s Gardener, don’t worry!,’ Frida assured him, passing him by. David oh’d and nodded quickly, before he hurried to follow her while trying to keep his insecurities in check…

-10 minutes earlier-

Back in the Library, Kaisa had listened quietly the whole way, the odd gasp of shock escaping whenever Johanna revealed the particularly harrowing details, such as the affair and the methods Tadgh used to kidnap Harry. Their cups of tea lay neglected amongst the conversation, their heat unneeded to melt the years of ice Kaisa had built up towards her former friend and mentor. For Johanna, the re-telling had been far more therapeutic than she had thought initially. She still became emotional at times, but was able to keep it under control and didn’t drift off at times either. And once she was finally done, Kaisa got up and pulled her back up into a hug, something Johanna completely melted at.

‘K-Kaisa..you d-don’t have to! I..I still a-abandoned you!,’ Johanna wept, returning the hug regardless. Kaisa’s embrace only tightened, and when she finally pulled away she took a moment tor dry her eyes with her cloak, before smiling at Johanna tearfully.

‘`Hanna, without you I..I don’t know what I would've done! You started me on the path to being a Witch, and even though you did leave me, it was only because you had lost everything first! And you came back! Meanwhile I haven’t heard from my family in who knows how long!,’ Kaisa exclaimed, and her smile broadened when Johanna’s eyes lit up in shock about her family.

‘You care about me, `Hanna, m-maybe the only person back then who cared about me..who would I be to turn my back on you, especially when you’re searching for your son?,’ Kaisa continued, thinking she’d guessed why Johanna had come back, but instead her old mentor looked horrified.

‘Goodness, Kaisa, of course not! If I was that selfish I..I would’ve gone straight to Tildy! I knew that I had to set the record straight with you first, especially because of-!’

‘-Hildy and her friends..I suppose you being a Witch is news to her as well?,’ Kaisa asked and Johanna nodded as her young protege opened the door down towards the Witches Tower and beckoned for her to follow.

‘..Yes, it came up a little prematurely though, but that’s for another time,’ she explained, looking about at corridors that up until now she had only ever seen in her nightmares, ‘..May I ask where we’re headed?’

‘Tildy’s of course’

‘Yes but..but isn’t this the wrong way?,’ Johanna asked with a nervous smile, not at all eager to be derailed by running into some of her old colleagues. Seemingly realising this, Kaisa paused and shook her head, retrieving a wand from her cloak. With a flick, she summoned up the door to Tildy’s maze, and looked back at Johanna, who recognised it instantly; Tildy had made her and Sandra run gauntlets through it as part of their training. Still, she was nervous; she had only tapped back into magic half an hour ago.

‘Don’t worry,’ Kaisa said confidently, ‘I’ve been practising and..and I want to show you how far I’ve come too!,’ she grinned and for a moment Johanna saw the girl she’d brought in from the snow, always eager to show her whatever spell or potion she’d learned that day. So with a smile and a nod, Johanna took Kaisa’s hand and hopped through the door…

…and was a total wreck once they emerged out into Tildy’s Garden. Johanna stumbled on her landing, and quickly fell to one knee, but yet she was laughing. Red in face from all the running about and one or two near-death experiences, but laughing regardless. And she couldn’t be more proud of Kaisa, pulling her old friend into a hug as she helped pull her up. Her joy was interrupted by the large footsteps of Eldrid behind her, turning to see the large fire giant towering over them, before he reached behind his back and dropped a table before them, the chess pieces miraculously remaining upright.

‘..Eldrid, um..I know we usually play but this is important!,’ Kaisa explained, walking past Johanna, ‘You remember who Johanna is, right?,’ she asked, gesturing to her friend who waved at Eldrid awkwardly. The giant's glowing eyes narrowed at her, before a smile appeared in recognition. However, he sat down before them and pointed at the board; there would be no exceptions. 

‘We might be here for a while..,’ Johanna murmured, joining Kaisa, ‘I haven’t played chess in ages..my skills are more in Dragon Panik these days..’

But just as Kaisa sat down opposite Eldrid, a door opened somewhere and Hilda came charging out, overjoyed and arms open for a hug that Johanna scooped her up into, spinning her around. Kaisa stood aside, giving them a moment and to avoid getting hit by Hilda’s boots as the others came running out to join them. Johanna set Hilda down to greet her old teacher, tears already falling down her cheeks. Tildy calmly reached up to wipe them from her face, before she held her hands.

‘M-Miss Pilqvist..I..I’m s-so sorry..!,’ Johanna began, pausing as Tildy shook her head gently. The children couldn’t tell, but Kaisa knew the old Witch was on the verge of tears herself.

‘It’s alright, my dear..to tell the truth, I put together what happened to you a long time ago..,’ she explained, looking over towards Hilda briefly, ‘I never saw Hilda with her brother..and I never heard much about her Father..’

‘I-I’m a failure..,’ Johanna hiccuped, as Kaisa guided the children away, ‘I..I’m still failing him..w-who knows what he’s been put through..while I-I sat here doing nothing !,’ she exclaimed angrily, digging her fingers into the greound Tildy shook her head and gently moved her back to face her, wiping away some more tears as she did.

‘Johanna..I’ve seen you come so far. You failed your Librarian trials twice. You and Sandra accidentally transported a whole Woff pack right into the Tower. You once put together a potion so volatile the recipe is still locked behind closed doors!’

‘Don’t tell Hilda that last one..,’ Johanna muttered, glancing over to see her daughter and her friends watching, just out of earshot. Tildy smiled and continued. 

‘The Committee used to tell me that you wouldn’t succeed, that you couldn’t succeed even if you put your head down, but Johanna, they were wrong, weren’t they? You passed your trials with flying colours the third time around. You stood alone, if briefly, against the most dangerous entity we’ve faced in centuries! Johanna..you are not a failure, you’re one of the most inspiring people I’ve had the pleasure of knowing!,’ Tildy beamed, taking off and wiping her glasses as she did.

Johanna had been reduced to tears once again. Tildy’s words had only made a dent in how she felt, but the fact it was a dent made it seriously impressive. After a moment, her elder rested a hand on her cheek, a proud smile going from ear to ear.

‘You are here, Johanna, and that alone means you haven’t failed your son’

‘I know,’ Johanna whispered, ‘But I don’t know how to get him back..’

‘ We don’t know,’ Tildy corrected, ‘Remember, a Witch's greatest strength is companionship!,’ she grinned, waving towards Kaisa and the Trio. Johanna saw Frida and Hilda, Witch and Familiar, hand in hand, while David watched on with hands in his pockets. All of this probably had him feeling very left out; Johanna made a point to tell Hilda, if her daughter hadn’t already realised that was. 

The clap of Tildy’s hands drew her attention, and a large picnic mat accompanied by vast assortments of food and drink appeared. Tildy took her by the hand, motioning for the others to come over and join them. 

‘Yes, we don’t know how to get your Harry back yet, but I’m sure by the end of this we’ll have some idea..and plenty of food in our bellies!,’ Tildy laughed as they sat down. Johanna couldn’t help but join in, an arm around Hilda as she sat down next to her. David retrieved the Quality Street from inside, much to everyone’s delight, which visibly perked up the boy's self-esteem. 

But even for this happy moment, back with amongst her old friends in the Coven, Johanna never once let the thought of Harry slip her mind. Even as Hilda and Frida relayed their first adventure in the Witches Tower, she found her concentration slipping. Every moment spent was a moment without Harry, adrift somewhere in the World. What Johanna couldn’t have realised though, was what sort of World, what sort of Otherworld, that Harry would wake up in just a few hours later…

Chapter Text

Harry yawned and stretched, shaking the feeling back into his tired limbs. As he slowly absorbed the world around him, his sleepy demeanour suddenly turned to one of blind panic when he realised that he was in bed. He shot up, looking all around him before he hunched forward, face down in the duvet and gripping his hair. Had he been dreaming? Harry didn’t know, as his memory refused to respond. All he heard was music, flutes and drums echoing around his mind as he began to hyperventilate. 

Gripping the duvet though, Harry realised that it didn’t feel like the one back in Holyhead at all. It had been scratchy and smelled a little, considering it had rarely been washed. The one currently covering him was soft, fluffy and smelled of lavender. Shaking slightly, Harry looked around the room again and found that he wasn’t in Holyhead at all. The room here had polished wooden floors, with butter yellow walls and a large, circular window with a windowsill which you could curl up on. 

Harry still didn’t feel particularly safe, and he would’ve been forced to move anyway as his clothes practically vacuum sealed to him. As he struggled out of the warm confines of the bed, something fell on the floor and he jumped, only to see that it was actually a pair of clothes. A white woollen jumper woven with intricate patterns, some bright blue jeans and a brown leather belt. 

Harry scooped them up cautiously, and noticed a bathroom just in front of him. Getting changed, the jumper was a bit big for him, falling over his hands a little. Harry didn’t mind, sheltering in its warmth as he spied his battered backpack sitting by the bedroom door.

All of his maps and toys were still inside, though the drawings had been crumpled somewhat underneath the weight of his models. Disgruntled, Harry tried to smooth them out on the floor when a loud, booming laugh suddenly shook him out of his skin and with it everything came rushing back. The trek to nowhere, the Gatekeeper, the fall into the abyss and back out again. But what Harry focused on was his Father’s face, pulsating with rage, eyes full of self-righteous anger. 

Harry realised that he was adrift. He wasn’t free of his Father, he had only seen him square up to the Gatekeeper before tumbling into the abyss, but Harry didn’t have anything to fear for the time being. At least, he could do that, but he wouldn’t. His Father was still out there, and as long as he was Harry knew he could never fully be at peace, even if he did somehow end up with his Mum. 

The thought of her and his sister steadied Harry ever so slightly, and as he sat there with his legs pulled up to his chest, the boy realised that his ribs were no longer in pain either. A welcome development in this uncertainty, as Harry picked up on some quiet footsteps coming from outside the door.

He backed away, pulling his bag and maps along with him as the handle creaked downwards and the door slowly opened until a tawny girl poked her head through. She had a head of curly black hair that fell down to her shoulders, around which was a woollen cloak, snow white and bound with an orange clasp. On seeing him, she swung the door open further and Harry saw she was wearing a nondescript tunic and some roughspun trousers. In her hands she held a crook, which she lay on the floor between them before she flashed Harry a smile.

‘Are you ok?’ she asked, her voice tender and full of concern. Harry recognised it as the voice from when he had tumbled into the field, as he blinked at the question. Very few people had asked if he was ok before, only his teachers from school really, and after a moment he realised that he couldn’t speak either. He just nodded, and the girl chuckled, revealing some pearly though crooked teeth. 

‘..So..what’s your name?,’ the girl asked, and when Harry found he still couldn’t speak he handed her one of his maps. He had his name written on all of them, a reminder that he was capable of doing something amidst his Father’s countless insults. She studied the picture before she found his name, and while her face crinkled in confusion at Harry’s transport system, she still smiled as she handed it back to him. 

‘This is cool!,’ she grinned and Harry felt himself bounce a little at the compliment, ‘My name is Siobh.. Siobh is ainm dom!,’ she introduced in both English and her own language. Harry nodded, returning her smile as he slowly felt the grip on his vocal cords loosen somewhat, as Siobh’s eyes flitted up to his hair. Harry didn’t particularly like that, so he pushed his fringe up and hid it behind both his hands. Siobh seemed confused, but a growl from Harry’s stomach soon caught her attention. 

‘Ya hungry? I would be too if I was tumbling in between worlds!,’ she grinned, before she picked up her crook and closed her eyes. Harry watched, letting his hair fall down as Siobh traced a circle in the air and then clicked her fingers. A sphere of blue light appeared, and she reached inside with both hands, pulling out a small tray. Sat on top was a sandwich and a pint of orange juice, and Siobh placed it at Harry's feet.

‘I-It’s for m-me..?,’ Harry whispered hoarsely, and Siobh nodded with a grin.

‘Course it is! I’m hardly gonna take it out from under your nose!,’ she laughed, while Harry reached out cautiously and took the sandwich. First he took a nibble, but once he tasted the smoked salmon he stuffed half of it into his mouth at once. He had never tasted anything so delicious, and the sweet taste of orange juice helped to finally break the grip around his vocal cords as well.

‘I-I can d-do that too..w-with my fingers, I-I snap them and-and stuff happens..!,’ he explained quickly. Siobh nodded, and the look of confusion returned as she adjusted herself, resting her head on her knees.

‘So..you have the Light of Danu in you?,’ she asked, ‘You must have family looking for you somewhere then!,’ she said and Harry choked a little on his sandwich. Concern dawned on Siobh’s face as he took another swig of juice and shook his head. Siobh’s concern deepened, but before she could dig deeper a woman came up the stairs behind them. She was tall, and wore a grey dress with a red cape, bound by a gold clasp this time. Her long ginger hair fell down behind her back and past her shoulders, and with a sigh he crossed her pale arms and studied Siobh with a pair of pale green eyes. 

‘Siobh! I told you to tell me if she was awake!,’ she chastised in plain English. The girl looked apologetic, but Harry was terrified. From his cruel upbringing, he expected Siobh to get a slap or a cracked rib like his Father had given him. But instead, the woman just sighed and shifted her gaze to Harry, who recoiled. He had been wrong; she was obviously going to punish Siobh by punishing him. As the seconds dragged on, Harry began to tremble as the woman just stood there, stunned by what she was seeing. After a moment, she crouched down on one knee, studying Harry worriedly.

‘There there..I know this is probably a lot to take in-!’

‘-D-Don’t hurt m-me!,’ Harry sobbed and the woman’s expression quickly turned from worry to one of deep concern. She glanced back at Siobh, who looked incredibly alarmed and then back to Harry again. He’d fallen over onto his side and was staring up at her tearfully. At first, the woman looked unsure at what to do, before she closed her eyes and took a breath, before giving him a calm smile.

‘Alright..let’s just start at the beginning. My name is Derbhla, and..and I’m not going to hurt you,’ she explained gently. Harry continued to back up, reaching the wall. Feeling he had the space he needed, he balled up against the side of it as he shot Derbhla some frightened side-eye. Eventually, Siobh pulled over the map and showed it to her Mum, tapping the right hand corner.

‘I see..,’ Derbhla breathed, ‘..And..And did someone hurt you, Harry?,’ she asked the shaking, sniffling child pressed up against the wall. Harry’s vocal cords were being strangled again and he hadn’t heard the question to begin with. Instead, he did what he always did when he was upset and retreated to his mind. He snapped his fingers, and the image of his Mum and Sister appeared, though they were blurry and not fully formed because of the state he was in. Still, they were enough to steady him as Harry blinked back into reality.

‘M-My D-Dad..,’ Harry sniffed and Siobh audibly gasped, hands over her mouth while Derbhla went visibly pale. For a moment, anger flashed across her face and Harry flinched at the sight before Derbhla was able to calm herself. She put an arm around Siobh, who was visibly disturbed by Harry’s words and her Mum whispered to her gently. Derbhla rocked the girl back and forward slightly as she did, and Siobh slowly calmed down as Harry observed. He felt almost jealous at that kind of love and affection..but at the same time refused to drop his guard. He had just been hurt too much to trust anyone yet.

‘..Well, before anything else,’ Derbhla began slowly, ‘You don’t have anything to fear here, even if you don’t think that right now. We’ll get you settled first before we start asking any more questions, alright?’ she explained kindly and Harry nodded slowly. He still flinched as Derbhla clicked her fingers and his plate and glass levitated to her side. With another whisper to Siobh, she got up and closed the door behind her. 

The girl waited until she was gone, before she circled her crook about again and made another portal. This time, she pulled out a small sack and poured its contents out onto the floor. It was sweets and chocolate, all of which Harry recognised from his own World, as he cautiously inched forward and took a bag at Siobh’s eager nod.

‘This is my secret stash!,’ the girl grinned mischievously, ‘The lands of the Tuatha De Danann and the old world are linked, so sometimes things fall down here by themselves!’

‘..W-Who are t-the Tuatha D-De Danann..? A-Am I one..?’

‘Course you are! Even if you didn’t have the Light of the Danu in you, anyone who ends up down here is Tuatha De Danann! We’re, like, the coolest secret society ever!,’ Siobh grinned as Harry nodded along slowly. His eyes shifted towards the Crook, which she had placed on the floor in between them. Seeing his curiosity, Siobh picked the staff up and offered it to him, which Harry took gingerly. As he did, he picked up on a faint humming sound, something Siobh laughed at as she chewed on a chocolate bar.

‘It likes you! That’s who I call the Crookster, my parents got me it for my birthday a couple of years ago cause I wanna be a Druid!,’ Siobh explained happily as Harry handed Crookster back and nodded slowly once more. There was a lot to understand here, a whole World to be precise, and he didn’t want to get distracted from the things he wanted to know, in particular this so-called “Light of the Danu”.

‘I..I don’t know if I can give you a simple answer to that..!,’ Siobh chuckled sheepishly, ‘Even the wisest elders are still trying to figure out what it is..but basically it’s a gift from the Mother Danu. They’re this great, big tree that’s ages and ages old, see here..,’ she said, unclipping her brooch from her cloak. Along the bottom, Harry could make out roots and a squat depiction of a tree, with what looked like leaves poking out of the top. The whole design seemed rushed as well, with petrified drips from the leaves and roots making it hard to make out.

Siobh took it back after a moment, and Harry thought she looked a little upset as she did. Usually, someone looking upset would have had him on edge, but this time was different. For the first time, Harry found himself worried for someone, instead of worrying what someone would do to him. Siobh had been kind, complimented his drawings and shared her sweet stash with him, a total stranger. So, Harry took a breath and did something he’d never done before; ask someone what was wrong.

‘Wh-What’s u-up..?’ he asked timidly. Siobh blinked as she reattached the brooch, looking at him then the brooch again. She sighed, before she removed it from the cloak and studied it in both hands, squinting slightly as the light reflected off the material.

‘Oh..well..it’s just not the best brooch in the world. We make them ourselves, it’s sort of like a coming of age thing, and I..I kinda get a little flustered when I’m under stress, and everyone was finishing theirs so quickly..,’ Siobh murmured, before trailing off. Harry nodded quietly, and managed a smile.

‘I..I t-think it looks n-nice..’ he said hoarsely. Siobh chuckled softly and brushed some hair out of her eyes as she affixed the brooch to her cloak once more. After a minute, it became clear she wasn’t going to accept any more compliments to it. Harry still remained interested, but again he didn’t want to get distracted from his main questions.

‘..um..I-I never l-lived d-down here..,’ he murmured, ‘H-How c-can I do m-magic..’

‘We call it Lightwork,’ Siobh corrected, ‘..and, um, I don’t really know how you can do magic then..I guess one of your parents was Tuatha De Danann?’

‘M-My Dad..he c-could do lightwork a-and..he..he u-used it to h-hurt me!,’ Harry exclaimed shakily and Siobh audibly gasped again, the colour draining from her face as the boy sniffled and wiped his eyes. Then, before he realised what was happening, Harry found himself pulled into a hug. Siobh had thought it would reassure him, but instead Harry’s fight or flight instincts went into overdrive. He kicked and fought, but Siobh’s embrace was like iron and it was only when Harry screamed that she let go. 

The boy retreated once more, tears rolling down his face as he did. Harry heard Siobh stammer something, but buried his head in his knees and refused to listen as a cacophony of noise erupted all around him. The bedroom door was swung open and snapped closed, the sound of a million footsteps stampeded around his mind before another door slammed shut somewhere. Harry felt like he was being thrown about violently before everything settled as quickly as it began. 

Looking up tearfully, Harry saw that Siobh was gone, having left her sweets behind. As he took another bag of jellies, he struggled over what to think. He decided he wasn’t angry with her, it had been an attempt at comfort but it had been too sudden for his liking. At that, he heard some footsteps approach the door and could tell instantly they weren’t Siobh returning to apologise. Instead, Derbhla cracked open the door, looked about and sighed. Harry remained silent as she entered and sat down where Siobh had been, studying the wrappers.

‘Ah, she shared her “secret” stash with you?,’ Derbhla smiled, using air-quotes. Harry chuckled a little; clearly her parents were more observant than Siobh thought. Having broken the ice, Derbhla let Harry pick away at his jellies before she pressed him for answers.

‘Was that you who screamed?,’ she asked gently and Harry nodded, ‘Why was that?’

‘I..I t-told Siobh that m-my D-Dad cracked m-my ribs..he..he used L-Lightwork to d-do it..,’ Harry explained shakily in-between jellies. Derbhla chewed her top lip, evidently just as shocked as Siobh had been but allowed Harry to continue. The boy had paused, ready to dart back in case of another unexpected hug. 

‘..S-Siobh hugged me b-but..but I-I didn’t like i-it..so I-I screamed..,’ Harry finished. Derbhla nodded slowly, turning her head towards the door slightly and Harry thought he could hear the faint creak of another door opening somewhere outside.

‘Siobh is a very emotional girl, it can get to her easily, especially if it’s something as..as heinous like our gifts being used to hurt you,’ Derbhla explained, ‘She likes to think she can handle things herself..it’s admirable, but sometimes her confidence can lead to..situations. Situations that build up in her head and weigh her down’

‘I..I d-don’t want h-her to g-get in t-trouble..,’ Harry stammered and Derbhla resisted the motherly urge to pass a hand through his hair. Here was a boy who had lived his life abused by his Father and likely under his tyranny as well, but was willing to stand up to authority for the sake of someone he’d met scarcely ten minutes ago. Smiling, Derbhla motioned for Harry to get up and follow her out into the hall, where the boy studied the pictures on the wall briefly while she knocked on the door. 

‘Siobh! Harry and I want to talk to you-!,’ she began before she paused at the sound of scratching coming from the otherside of the door. Beckoning for Harry to follow, Derbhla pushed the door open slowly and they both slipped inside, where to his shock Harry was greeted by the biggest dog he’d ever seen. It was a great, lanky thing and even sitting down it was a whole two heads taller than him. Harry gulped as it bowed its head, panting as two misty white eyes seemed to study him intently. 

‘Boru! Amach!’ Derbhla ordered sternly and the dog moved out past them, a little clumsily due to its size as its nails clattered against the wooden flooring. Derbhla pushed the door closed behind her, and finally turned towards Siobh, who was sitting on her bed and staring hard at the fabric tearfully. 

‘I-I’m so s-sorry I..I didn’t mean to hurt you like that!,’ she sniffed, looking up at Harry. The boy blinked, never having been genuinely apologised to before. His teachers had made bullies apologise to him, sure, but those had been forced. He felt himself smile, and stepped forward, placing two shy hands on the side of her bed. 

‘..It’s ok..,’ he whispered, ‘I..I liked talking t-to you!’ and Siobh seemed surprised before she nodded quickly. Harry sensed Derbhla step away, and turned to see her slip back outside, leaving the two of them alone. Siobh patted the bed to see if Harry wanted to sit next to her, but the boy didn’t seem to even register it. Their guest was far, far more interested in her room and Siobh let Harry have a moment while he wandered around. 

Siobh’s room was on the small side, but this clearly wasn’t because her family didn’t care for her. She had two shelves practically bursting with things, so much so that Harry knew he’d be here all day if he were to absorb it all. So, again, he decided to pick out what was most interesting to him. 

The first thing he’d noticed were the paintings. They were painted onto wood of all shapes and sizes, and evidently were pictures from Siobh’s life. Harry was taken aback by just how..lifelike they were, it was as if someone had painted a photograph. 

‘T-These p-paintings..,’ he murmured.

‘They’re not paintings, they’re memories,’ Siobh explained, resting her head in her hands and swinging her legs in the air aimlessly behind her, ‘We can change them at any time we want!,’ before she snapped her fingers and the stump Harry was looking at became a swirl of colours, and after a minute a different memory appeared. Harry’s pure amazement made Siobh smile, as she hopped off the bed to join him.

‘That’s not all, we can make them move too!,’ she grinned and prodded the stump. The picture rippled like a puddle, before little Siobh began to move in slow motion. The colours swirl and a man’s face appeared, probably her Father, but Harry didn’t care about the picture anymore. He looked at Siobh eagerly, bouncing on his heels and flapping his hands slightly.

‘Can..Can it t-take stuff f-from your i-imagination?’ he asked. Siobh nodded, but quickly raised a hand as Harry went to take the painting from the shelf.

‘..It can! But..But all this wood is connected to me, you see. So, you find an elm tree and, well, this might sound a little weird but you spend all day talking to it. You have to convince it to be chopped down into bits once you’ve poured all your memories into it. Once that’s done, no one else can use it, since the tree is dead..and you can’t talk to dead things obviously!’

Harry might have laughed if it wasn’t for his overwhelming disappointment. He sat down on Siobh’s bed where the girl joined him, twirling the Crookster in her hand as she regarded him sympathetically.

‘Did you want to see something important to you?’

‘M-My Mum..,’ Harry sniffed, ‘A-And my s-sister too..’

‘Oh, I see..they’re not still up there with your Dad, are they?,’ Siobh asked worriedly, and the mere idea of it caused Harry to go totally pale before he shook his head. He gripped both his arms tightly, and Siobh moved away a little, giving him some space. After a moment, Harry managed to settle himself, and as his breathing slowed Siobh felt she could pepper him with some more questions.

‘Do you know them?’ she asked and Harry sniffled as he shook his head.

‘N-No..they’re s-somewhere but..but I-I don’t know w-where. It was a-always just me and..and him..,’ Harry explained, wiping his eyes. He looked back at Siobh, who was massaging her forehead in thought, eyes closed before she snapped her fingers. Harry felt something come out from under the bed, quickly moving his legs out of the way to see that it was an old, rusted chest. Siobh hopped onto the floor and Harry joined her, where the girl whispered something to the tired looking box and it clunked open.

‘My grandparents left me all sorts of things when they died, and one of them was this!,’ Siobh explained, pulling out a small, square piece of fabric. Harry felt bad for almost laughing at the idea that this was a sort of prized possession, until Siobh tossed it onto her bed. There, the fabric rapidly unfolded, until it covered the entirety of the duvet and then some, drooping over its sides. Ink then began to snake its way along its surface, and to Harry’s ever growing excitement he realised that it was a map.

‘A map! I-I love maps!,’ he gleed, overjoyed, as the islands of Britain and Ireland slowly appeared. The map wasn't done either, as little lines began to appear, marking out different territories. As it did, Siobh tapped the surface with her crook.

‘So we’re here-’

‘Wait! It's not done yet!,’ Harry interjected, eyes darting around the surface eagerly as more lines and markers came into existence.

‘Uh, yeah, but we need to find your family!,’ Siobh grinned, keeping Harry on track. The boy zoned back in and nodded, as Siobh continued.

‘So we're here, under Wales..,’ she said, showing Harry a little village called [Paul's Rest]. The boy also noticed that there seemed to be towns and villages missing from the map. There were towns around where Cardiff was, for instance, but none whatsoever around Holyhead. Soobh noticed his confusion, and tapped the map with her crook. After a moment, the map rustled and was replaced by paper, and Harry realised it was just a plain old ordnance survey map.

‘Oh..! I-I get it..y-you all live underneath the g-ground!’

‘Yep! Course we don't, like, live right underneath you, your towns and cities are really loud..,’ Siobh muttered, ‘But you get the idea. Where did you come from up there?’

‘T-This p-place..,’ Harry shuddered, jabbing a finger at Holyhead, ‘But..But my M-Mum never lived w-with us..Dad said she..she d-didn't like what he h-had planned..? I-I don't know w-what he meant..’

‘Ok..well, put your full hand on the map and we'll find out where she is!,’ Siobh explained, ‘Then think really hard about her! My grandparents had ten children, so they kept track of them with this!’ 

‘R-Right..!,’ Harry breathed, before he shut his eyes. He didn't focus on the imaginary memory, but this time the idea of a Mum. The person who had brought him into this world and who, Harry hoped, wanted him home just as much as he did. Siobh watched, as Harry’s hand slowly began to move. It moved up from Holyhead and out to sea. Running its way along the paper, after a few seconds Harry’s hand slowly formed into a point and Siobh craned her head eagerly to see where they had landed.

Harry’s family lived on an island in between Britain and Ireland, labelled as the Isle of Trollberg. Harry's family seemed to live in the titular city, as he removed his finger and studied it intently. An island, he thought, with the sea on one end and massive mountains on the other. No one would ever be able to hurt him again.

‘Trollberg..,’ Harry murmured, as Siobh tapped the map again with her crook. Harry's finger remained in place as it shifted back to its fabric and ink, but the children were quickly presented with a problem; the area around Trollberg was almost completely blank.

‘W-What does t-that mean..?,’ Harry asked nervously, and Siobh’s brow furrowed in response as she tickled her chin. 

‘..That no one lives around there..and that's odd, cause a quiet island with nothing on it is a Tuatha De Danann's dream come true really!’

‘Ok..b-but what does i-it mean? ’ Harry pressed, wanting an answer as he took his finger away from the fabric.

‘..It means that we won't be able to get you there quickly..,’ Siobh sighed, ‘But don't worry, we'll still try and get you home!’

‘..Y-You'll do that!?,’ Harry asked, taken aback by such kindness and Siobh nodded earnestly before she walked past him towards the door.

‘Course we will! We're honour bound to look after our guests down here, we'll do everything we can to get you back to your family!,’ she grinned. Harry was speechless, having no idea how to begin to thank her before his stomach saved him for the time being. It growled loudly, and Harry placed both hands on it, embarrassed. Siobh tittered and beckoned him outside, where they headed for the spare room first.

‘Ah, Mum knows about my stash now, no big deal..,’ she sighed, returning the sweets to the bag.

‘Y-Your Mum said she..she k-knew..’ Harry replied and Siobh paused briefly before she smiled and tossed the bag back into another portal she’d made.

‘Whatever, she didn’t take them from me so there’s that!,’ she grinned, ‘You can just leave your stuff up here for now, you’ll probably be spending a couple of nights with us,’ she explained before motioning for Harry to follow her. The boy did so, but took one of his model trains from the bag first. It consoled his nerves, as he and Siobh descended into the unknown. 

The floor downstairs was one of glossy wood, and Harry struggled to remain on his feet. Siobh giggled as he tried to stop himself from slipping, holding out her hand. Harry flinched as it approached, but after a moment took it cautiously. He had never done much hand-holding; he remembered being young as his Father had marched him along the streets doing errands, crushing his hand in his. Siobh’s by contrast was gentle, her grip almost as light as Harry’s, likely because she was worried about upsetting him again. Harry tightened his grip slightly at its warmth, as Siobh led him into the living room. There, they found Derbhla, watching the television.

‘Ah, glad to see you’ve made amends!,’ she smiled, pausing the TV after a couple of attempts. It was truly ancient by Harry’s standards; judging by a sticker on the side of it, it might have been taken from a museum..

‘Grandad’s map said Harry is from the isle of Trollberg!,’ Siobh explained. Derbhla’s eyes went wide and nodded, hand on her chin in thought. She studied Harry for a moment, though the boy didn’t realise as he spun the wheels on his train. He was slowly getting used to the idea that he had nothing to fear or worry about. 

‘That would explain a lot alright,’ she mused, standing up and beckoning them to follow her into the kitchen. It was a small space, with a large couch shoved into the corner and a rickety wooden table in front of it. Harry was able to stand better on its black and white tiles, and sat down in a chair along with Siobh. Derbhla sat down at the head to the table, pushing a plate of bread speckled with raisins over to them. Siobh tucked in eagerly and Harry followed suit, as Derbhla watched him sympathetically. The poor boy had properly never had a full meal in his life.

‘You see, there were creatures and other magic folk living on that island. When the Tuatha De Dannan first went there,’ she explained, ‘The Fianna tried to take it, but they were beaten back-’

‘-What!?,’ Siobh exclaimed before choking a little, ‘The Fianna lost!?’

‘W-Who..?’ Harry asked, chewing his food slower to savour the taste.

‘The Fianna are bands of warriors who protect our lands,’ Dearbhla explained, ‘Sometimes villages tend to fight over things, and they send their band of Fianna to do so. In the old days, the Fianna went out and expanded our worlds reach, but they weren't successful all the time’

‘..L-Like in T-Trollberg..,’ Harry murmured.

‘Yes, like in Trollberg,’ Derbhla said calmly, resting her hands in her sleeves, ‘The Fianna retreated, and no one has set foot on Trollberg since. It probably didn't show up on the map, did it?’ she asked and Siobh nodded, 'That means we have no gateways to it..'

‘..m-maybe my M-Mum's a creature..,’ Harry murmured, mostly to himself as he rolled the train along the tables surface.

‘It's certainly possible,’ Derbhla replied, causing Harry to jump a little, ‘But right now we need to figure out how to get you there, my husband will need to make preparations..,’ she said wistfully, when right on cue the front door opened and shut with a snap. Harry jolted again, as a man's voice called out in the native tongue that Siobh and her Mother spoke.

‘Derbhla, an bhfuil an buachaill ina dhúiseacht fós?,’ the man called out, as the sound of boots echoed confidently off the floors as he approached. Derbhla left the room, calling back out to him as she did.

‘You would have woken him with the sound of your voice!,’ she laughed, before her voice dropped to hushed tones. Inside, Harry shook a little and looked at Siobh nervously. The girl offered her hand and Harry took it, squeezing it tightly as the footsteps resumed, this time slower and more cautious. After a couple of minutes, Derbhla re-entered the room arm in arm with a thin, lanky man. His tawny face was clean shaven, with a curly black afro that stuck out like the legs on a spider. Like Siobh, he wore a tunic and some roughspun trousers, with a sword tied around his waist. 

‘Harry, this is my husband Ruadrí,’ Derbha introduced, and he gave Harry a two-fingered salute and a wink. Harry nodded slowly, guard at its highest since he’d arrived as Ruadrí broke off from his wife to wash his hands under the sink. Harry quickly realised that they were covered in blood, something that didn’t exactly help his nerves.

‘..Derbhla says you’ve had a harsh life?,’ the man asked, his light voice slightly raspy yet heavy with sympathy. Harry nodded and Ruadrí flashed him a warm smile, before he returned to trying to wash his hands clean of blood. It seemed to be taking him a bit of effort, as he rubbed some soap on his hands before continuing.

‘Well, I won’t make you tell us about it! Have you fed him coinín? ,’ he asked his wife, likely a pet name of sorts, but as Derbhla nodded Harry’s stomach rumbled loudly once again. He looked up sheepishly and Ruadrí laughed heartily, striding back out of the kitchen before returning with a large bag slung over his shoulder. 

‘Clearly not enough! We’ll have lunch prepped for you in no time, don’t you worry! Word is you’re from Trollberg as well?,’ he asked, as he and Derbhla sorted through the bag, filled with all sorts of meats and vegetables. 

‘He is,’ Siobh replied, saving Harry the trouble, ‘Do you know it? Mum says the Fianna were chased out of there!’

‘I’ve travelled across the land, far and wide, but never to Trollberg. It’s forbidden for the Tuatha De Danann to step foot there, it’s in the agreement we signed long ago,’ Ruadrí explained, ‘But don’t worry lad, we’ll get you home pronto pronto,’ he winked, and his merry attitude was rubbing off on Harry a little, as the boy bounced a little on his chair. He and Siobh watched, as her parents quickly began work on a simply massive lunch. Derbhla whipped up a salad in only a couple of minutes, while Ruadrí put together sandwiches like he was a machine. Siobh stuck out her crook and with a couple of swishes was transferring the food over to the table. It looked to be taking her a bit of effort as well, as Harry saw sweat forming on her brow and eventually Siobh lost her hold on a bowl of salad.

Harry felt time slow as he watched it plummet, but Debhla caught it handily. She flashed her daughter a reassuring smile, but Siobh looked distraught and turned away. The hubbub continued around them, but all Harry heard now was her sniffles as Siobh wiped her eyes.

‘Should’ve known I’d mess that up..,’ she murmured, rolling her crook in her hands as she swung her legs dejectedly.

‘I..I t-thought you were d-doing a good job!,’ Harry said. Siobh blinked before she looked up at him, before she smiled softly and shook her head, looking back at your crook.

‘You’re just saying that..I know I was rubbish..,’ she sighed, and Harry tilted his head in confusion, knowing he had been genuine and not fully understanding the response. Still, as Siobh sighed again and looked back up at him, Harry felt he knew what to say.

‘Y-You’re not rubbish at..at being m-my friend!,’ he grinned, and Siobh blinked once more, before her eyes shone with gratitude and she smiled. Harry held out his hand and she took it, as Derbhla and Ruadrí brought over the last of the plates and sat down at either end of the table which was now covered by bowls and plates of all sorts of food. Ruadrí poured himself some orange juice, and held his glass out towards the centre of the table. The others followed suit, Harry having to stretch a little as the glasses clinked together, the Sun glistening off them. 

‘Here’s to the happiness of our guest!,’ Ruadrí remarked, smiling at Harry who swung his legs happily underneath his seat. He zoned out a little as the family tucked into their lunch, letting the feeling of safety and security wash over him. Perhaps, he dared to dream, things might just work out after all…

____________________________________________________

That night, a storm rocked a village not far from where Harry had landed. In a small pub, a barman looked wearily out the window, cleaning a glass when a large figure pushed open the door, soaked and swearing underneath his breath. The man stumbled over the bar, which was empty and heaved himself up onto a seat. He slammed a fist down and a tankard was pushed over to him, as the barman peered at them in the gloom. The stranger appeared to be wearing clothes from the Old World, and he didn’t look particularly well either. Said clothes were torn, and his sopping hair hid a badly bruised and cut face. 

Tadgh noticed the barkeep and shot him a ugly scowl. The man retreated into a back room, while the disgraced Father took a lengthy swig of beer. It wasn’t enough, as he slammed it down angrily, thoughts again shifting to his rotten betrayer of a son. Once he got himself settled, he would hunt Harry down and shape him as he saw fit, that is, if he survived the beating-!

Tadgh suddenly became aware of a figure sitting at the other end of the bar, one leg on top of the other and wearing a black cloak that blended in with the dark of the pub. The rest of the occupants seemed cautious of him, with one lone attendant giving them a nervous side eye. Tadgh himself stared back, having not noticed anyone when he sat down. Its arm rested on the table, the figure beckoned him over with two fingers. Casting an eye over the bar behind him, Tadgh grumbled and moved over with his drink.

‘What do you want?,’ he grumbled, sitting next to them and taking another gulp of beer. The person leaned closer, and Tadgh could see a beard peeking out from beneath the hood.

‘I sense that you are one of us,’ the man said simply, turning to face him, ‘And in those clothes, and with that face, the Gatekeepers didn’t want you down here, did they?,’ he guessed. He spoke quietly, but Tadgh still looked anxiously around at the other occupants. The Tuatha De Danann enforced their laws harshly, and by evading the Gatekeeper he had made himself a wanted man. It didn’t help that he hadn’t incapacitated him either; when it had become clear that he was losing, Tadgh had scrambled for the hole like a frightened rabbit.

‘We can help you,’ the man said smoothly, ‘Outcasts like you would fit in well with us-’

‘Shut your mouth,’ Tadgh hissed, ‘Yer a Man of Tuireann, I don’t need any bloody secret societies! I just want to try and whip my son into shape!,’ he growled, finishing off the last of his pint. In response, the man took something from his cloak and passed it along to Tadgh. It was a picture of a tawny man, with a curly black fro that stuck out like the legs on a spider.

Siobh’s Father, Ruadrí.

‘I think you’ll find that we can both help each other,’ the man said confidently, placing a hand on Tadgh’s back, ‘Come, let’s take a walk’

Chapter Text

As Harry had been welcomed into the Otherworld by Siobh and her family, back in Trollberg Hilda’s home had become a hive of activity. Once they returned from Tildy’s Garden, Johanna took her daughter and her old mentor aside, leading them into her room quietly. Hilda sat silently, as her Mum re-opened the safe she’d kept the memories of Harry in. Yesterday, when she’d first opened it, Hilda had heard what sounded like a stick hitting its metal surface. Now, after everything she’d learned, it was obvious what it really was; her Mum’s old wand.

Or what remained of it anyway. 

Johanna’s was made mostly of birch, with an oak handle and a brilliant pink gem wedged into the bottom of it. Hilda didn’t notice it initially though, shuddering as she took in the broken wand. It had been split in two during her Mum’s confrontation with her old partner, a direct link to that terrible moment when Harry had been taken from them. Her Mum seemed to pause briefly as well, before she took a breath and picked up the wand. She held the pieces out to her mentor, and as Tildy studied them mournfully Johanna sniffled and wiped her eyes.

‘Don’t worry, dear, we’ll have it patched up in no time!,’ Tildy assured, like a parent soothing their child. Johanna nodded, as Hilda scooched over to join her Mum while Tildy clicked her fingers and summoned an ancient looking book from thin air.

‘What’s the gem, Mum?,’ Hilda asked curiously. 

‘Oh..my old friend gave it to me before she was corrupted..a gift for me passing my Librarian trials,’ Johanna explained, rubbing Hilda’s shoulder, ‘Do you know how wands work, Hilda?’

‘..Not really, but Frida got hers during..during an adventure we were on,’ Hilda explained vaguely. Johanna didn’t push her for the time being, keeping on topic as Tildy delicately flicked through the book's pages.

‘Well, a Witch usually takes their wand from a memorable experience during their training. I took mine from one of the puzzles in Tildy’s maze, the first time I ever made it through by myself’

‘That’s right,’ Tildy confirmed dryly, focusing on the book.

‘When a Witch moves on their training then, we craft our wand into something more elegant to show our progress. If a Witch has a familiar, they’re allowed to help too!,’ Johanna grinned, rubbing her daughter’s shoulder. Hilda’s eyes lit up at the prospect, before they both looked to Tildy, who had set the book down. Picking up Johanna’s wand, she nodded for her to hold out her hands and placed one half on each of her palms. Muttering a brief incantation as she pushed the palms closer, Hilda watched quietly as Tildy locked eyes with her Mum.

‘Johanna, do you wish to recommit yourself to the ways of magic, to uphold its laws, to defend its secrets and to never drink tea on a Tuesday?,’ Tildy asked, Hilda almost laughing at how serious she sounded saying that last part. Her Mum nodded, her expression equally serious.

‘I do’

Outside, David, Frida and Kaisa were making small talk when a blue light flashed from underneath Johanna’s door. The children were alarmed, but Kaisa was grinning from ear to ear as the door opened and Hilda bounded out happily. Johanna followed, holding her restored wand up to the light carefully. She definitely needed to give it a clean at some point, as the gem shone brightly in the Summer sun.

‘Wow! Your wand is beautiful!,’ Frida said admirably, ‘..I hope mine looks that nice one day!’

‘I’m sure it will, David and Hilda will be full of ideas!,’ Johanna assured, giving David a wink as Frida held her friend's hands. The boy was confused initially, but smiled when the two girls nodded earnestly. Maybe he wouldn’t be that left out after all, David figured, as Tildy rapped on the table to get their attention.

‘Now, to business!,’ she declared, ‘Johanna, dear..would you have any idea of where your son could have been taken?,’ she asked, and Hilda thought she could see her Mum start to sweat a little as all eyes settled on her. Johanna wrung her hands; she had never actually told Tildy or Kaisa that Tadgh was Tuatha De Dannan. While Witches weren’t hostile to other magic users, they didn’t mix with other branches of magic under any circumstances. Johanna had worried that she would have been punished for her relationship, over fears that she and Tadgh were crossing magical boundaries. 

‘..He wouldn’t have been taken anywhere we know,’ she began, picking absentmindedly at a bit of dirt on her wand, ‘My partner was Tuatha De Danann..Harry was probably taken to their World,’ Johanna revealed, looking back up to see Tildy’s reaction in particular. Her expression was painted with total surprise for a moment, but it quickly disappeared. David and Frida glanced at Hilda, who wore a thinly veiled anger at just how far her Father was willing to go to keep Harry from them.

‘..I see, that certainly complicates things,’ her mentor murmured, holding her chin, ‘I would suggest making sure that Harry isn’t up here first, dear,’ Tildy explained, ‘But for that to work..we’d need something that he had a great connection with..’

‘I don’t have anything here..,’ Johanna replied mournfully, ‘Hilda and Harry shared their toys, at least when I was looking!,’ she smiled, winking at Hilda who chuckled sadly but felt the pit open up in her stomach regardless. How much trial and error would it take to figure out how to even get started on finding her brother? Everyone else seemed to be thinking the same thing, but Johanna was strangely relaxed. She leaned back in her chair, one leg over the other as she smiled at them all wryly.

‘What? I only said I don’t have anything here, didn’t I?’ she laughed, causing Kaisa to chuckle.

‘That’s the `Anna I know..always speaking riddles!’

‘Where are Harry’s things?,’ Hilda asked curiously, and her Mum’s eyes became watery.

‘Out in Tofoten..I couldn’t bear to have them in the same place, s-so Astrid and I picked them up and..and put them in her attic,’ she explained. Hilda’s eyes lit up at the prospect of visiting her Aunt, before she zoned in on David and Frida, who both looked and felt like they were intruding. Hilda stood up and beckoned them aside, while the Witches put their heads together to speak quietly.

‘What’s up?’ Hilda asked, leading them into her room for good measure and closing the door. 

‘..Just feeling bad for you and your Mum, that’s all,’ David sighed and Hilda pulled him into a hug, with Frida joining in as Hilda’s emotions unravelled. Her friends still didn’t know much of what had happened; Hilda kept breaking down when she’d tried to tell them earlier. But David and Frida knew that Hilda was hurting inside, and would stick by her even if they didn’t know enough to try and comfort her. Something Hilda knew as they pulled apart, something she would forever be grateful for.

‘I hate to interrupt!,’ Johanna called through the closed door, ‘But the next train to Tofoten is in an hour and we have to walk to the station!’

Hilda knew it would be goodbye once they got there; they’d been out for most of the afternoon and their parents would be worried for them, especially Frida’s. Still, it didn’t take away from the walk in the Sun, the children laughing and Johanna reconnecting as they made their way to Trollberg’s central station. Here, she filled Tildy and Kaisa in on Harry’s story, and a sharp contrast soon emerged between them and the children in front.

‘I can’t believe he didn’t care..,’ Kaisa muttered, looking at Hilda as she chatted happily to her friends, ‘I just can’t wrap my head around it..’’

‘I admit, I kept trying to understand even after what happened,’ Johanna sighed, ‘But there’s no point now, Harry is what matters, not Tadgh,’ she said stiffly, using his name as Hilda wasn’t in earshot. She’d decided a long time ago that her daughter would never know his name. After all, Tadgh had never used hers unless he really had to.

At the Station, Hilda hugged her friends goodbye, while Johanna’s insistence that she pay for all of them was quickly bulldozed by Tildy. David and Frida waved them off, as Hilda shouted out the window to them.

‘I’ll be back soon, don’t have too much fun without me!,’ she called out, laughing as the train to Tofoten pulled away, the hiss of steam drowning out her friend's goodbyes.

‘So, now what?,’ Frida asked, and frowned when David flummoxed for a moment, ‘David, really, Hilda and I don’t want you to be the odd one out! Just cause you’re not a Witch or Hilda doesn’t mean you don’t have good ideas up there!’

‘I mean..I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try and learn more about these Tuatha de Danann,’ he shrugged to Frida’s encouraging nod, ‘..but her Aunt probably knows all about that anyway,’ he sighed, letting his doubts take over again. Frida placed a hand on his shoulder, gripping it tightly as she suppressed the urge to shake him.

‘David. That’s. A good. Idea!,’ she said through a wide grin, shaking him slightly anyway. David laughed at her insistence, and Frida took his hand so they could head towards the Library as Hilda’s train vanished into the distance.

_______________________________

‘It’s grown since I was last here,’ Tildy said of Tofoten as Hilda and Twig ran ahead over the little bridge that led into the town. Johanna didn’t respond, looking about her hometown admirably. She hadn’t actually been back to it since Astrid had sent her off to Trollberg after..whatever had happened with her parents. All she remembered was Astrid coming in and saying they had disappeared, and that memory felt almost..fake. She certainly still felt a little bitter that Astrid hadn’t moved with her to Trollberg either, but that was something for another time.

‘Will your Aunt mind us arriving unannounced?,’ Kaisa asked and Johanna confidently shook her head as Hilda held back to gaze up at a faceless, sinister looking statue standing in the middle of the town square. Despite the Summer sun, she shivered and hurriedly caught up with the others. The whole time, it felt like something was watching her..

‘No, she won’t mind, especially if it's about Harry,’ Hilda heard her Mum say as they made their way out of town, ‘Besides, she’d show up to our cabin unannounced all the time as well,’ she explained. As they continued on their journey, the houses became more sparse, replaced by the greenest fields Hilda had ever seen. Finally, around the corner a large homestead came into view and Hilda paused to take it in. Her eyes were quickly drawn to the massive, thatched roof tower before they settled on the blue tiled home built into it, with smoke drifting lazily from its tall chimney. 

Hilda followed on slowly as Johanna and company opened the rusted green gate with a creak, craning her neck as she went up the path. She would always remember their old cabin lovingly, but Hilda now felt a little envious that she hadn't grown up here instead. Johanna knocked on the rustic red door, jostling Hilda from her thoughts. There was some scratching on the other end, before Astrid opened the door and what looked like a patch of grass with furry white legs came bounding out happily. 

‘Johanna!,’ Astrid beamed, pulling her into a hug, ‘What a surprise, just when I was thinking of writing to you as well!,’ she laughed, before she noticed Kaisa and Tildy and gave them a welcoming smile.

‘Oh..and you’ve brought friends as well?,’ she asked, perhaps not being as open as Johanna had thought.

‘I’ll explain everything, this is about Harry,’ her niece replied, settling any issues as Astrid nodded and stood aside, gesturing for them to enter before she looked out at Hilda, who had gone from being chased to being the chaser as she ran around laughing after the odd creature. Astrid almost didn’t believe it was her, the girl had shot up since the last time they met.

‘Come on Hilda!,’ Johanna called and the girl came running up to her Great Aunt, embracing her happily as Twig and Astrid’s pet came running inside as well. Laughing, Astrid sprinkled some salt in the child’s hair, a ritual she had done since after Harry was kidnapped. Once they had come apart, Astrid led them inside, where Tildy was studying the books in her living room admirably. Kaisa less so, noticing a purple tag on one of the spines.

‘..I know this book,’ she muttered, taking it from the shelf, ‘It’s been missing for five years..’

‘Oh? And how can you tell that?,’ Astrid asked wistfully, leading them inside, though Hilda felt she knew more than she let on. Johanna felt the same way as they sat down on the kitchen table, but launched into an explanation regardless as she took out her wand, placing it in front of her Aunt. Astrid’s eyes went wide and momentarily flitted to Hilda before she nodded.

‘Witches,’ she said casually, dropping the facade.

‘You knew?,’ Tildy asked, although she didn’t seem a bit surprised.

‘Of course, I’ve known since Johanna started!,’ Astrid laughed, taking a fairy charm from her pocket and holding it out before them, ‘You’d have to be a fool to think there’s no such thing as magic, though I never dedicated myself to it,’ she explained. Hilda again felt that Astrid was only revealing some of what she knew, and she was right, but the girl knew that this was about Harry and buried her curiosities for the time being.

‘We need something of Harry’s for a spell,’ Johanna explained, ‘It will help us figure out if he’s up here..or with the Tuatha De Danann,’ she said after a pause. Clearly, Astrid didn’t know who Tadgh had been either, and she went noticeably pale. Looking to the others and Hilda, Astrid nodded towards the stars.

‘Pick a room up there and get to work, Johanna and I will head up to the attic,’ she instructed. As they moved, Hilda felt that the atmosphere had cooled somewhat. Choosing the first room they came too, Hilda and the witches stepped inside to allow Astrid and her Mum to pass. Kaisa made a point of closing the door behind her, and Hilda was interrupted by Tildy clearing her throat, as she reached for the door handle.

‘I know what you’re thinking, deary,’ she mused, as Kaisa sat on a bed and pulled a potions book from thin air, as if she was trying to hide from the conversation in front of her.

‘..You know I have to go to the bathroom?,’ Hilda replied after a moment, hand still on the handle. The older Witch chuckled and pushed her glasses up her nose, before she fixed Hilda with a sharper expression. The girl swallowed and took her hand off the door; Tildy was not her Mum.

‘Good. You can help Kaisa and I here, why don’t you tell us how you’re finding being a familiar?,’ Tildy asked, putting the grandmotherly persona back on as upstairs, Johanna and Astrid worked through the attic and their feelings.

‘Tuatha de Danann..why didn’t you tell me, Johanna?,’ she sighed, taking a box her niece passed out to her. Harry’s old things had been buried all the way in the back of the attic, just like Johanna had tried to bury her pain and her guilt. 

‘Maybe you should have stuck around to keep an eye on me!,’ Johanna shot back, the situation causing her emotions, and her bitterness, to flow before she sighed, ‘..I’m sorry I-’

‘No, you’re right,’ Astrid interjected, ‘I..I was always more suited to being an Aunt, I allowed myself to think I couldn’t take care of you..and I’m sorry,’ she sniffed, wiping her nose. Johanna had stopped at pulling out a box, wiping her eyes too. Seeing this, Astrid forced herself to use the moment to try and cement her years long lie, even though the idea caused her heart to ache.

‘..Do you think we could use this spell for something else?,’ she suggested half-heartedly, continuing when Johanna looked at her, ‘I mean, to find your parents? There are plenty of their things here too..’

‘Oh..um..,’ Johanna murmured, feeling small as she drummed on the sides of the box for a moment, ‘Let’s..not. At least you wrote to me after I got sent to Trollberg,’ she muttered and Astrid nodded in fake sadness as she was passed the box. In reality, she had asked so Johanna wouldn’t, which would’ve put her put her Aunt in an..awkward position, to say the least. 

Finally, Johanna saw the box with “Harry” written on in Astrid’s writing. She had no memory of what had happened after it had been put there. All she remembered next was sitting in Astrid’s garden, rocking Hilda back and forth as the Woff’s flew overhead, the tears wetting her daughter's hair.

Zoning back in, Johanna heaved it out, the box somehow being heavier than the others. There was probably a metaphor there, she thought bitterly, but pushed the thought out as Astrid took the box from her. Using the box knife, they cut it open to reveal all of Harry’s old toddler clothes. Underneath, to Johanna’s hard swallow, she heard something call out from beneath; a certain toy, its electrics dying as it sputtered out the phrase that had circled Johanna’s nightmares for years:

‘La..La bzt off..the rescue..La La..off to crk rescue..’

‘You can tell me what you’re looking for,’ Astrid said, holding her niece's hand, ‘I’ll get it and you can go downstairs,’ she offered, but to her surprise Johanna shook her head, eyes clenched shut against the bombardment of guilt.

‘No, it’s right..w-we’re off to rescue Harry!,’ she exclaimed, before she started to rummage about the box with both hands. Astrid joined in, and after a couple of minutes Johanna finally pulled a tall, battered looking book from the side of the box. With food stains on every page, it was all about space for toddlers and something Johanna was certain Harry had absolutely adored.

‘His first word was “space” you know..,’ she sighed, ‘His father was irritated that it wasn’t “mama” or “dada”..he probably only included me then because it was still early days..’

They stood to leave, but not wanting to leave Astrid with her mess Johanna managed to lift some boxes into the air via magic. She only managed to get a few in, but satisfied with Astrid’s thankful nod that she’d done her best, the two of them returned downstairs to the Witches. There, they found Tildy and Kaisa setting up as Hilda took some notes for Frida. 

‘Have you only just started?,’ Johanna asked, confused as Kaisa had brought everything they needed. With her and Tildy working on it, she had expected that they would have everything ready to go.

‘I had to find a cauldron that wasn’t hexed, full of holes or both,’ her mentor explained, ‘But this won’t take long, I assure you!,’ she said happily, as Kaisa stirred the potion while muttering some incantations. Astrid took the book from Johanna, rightly guessing that its bond to Harry was important. They didn’t need Johanna getting second thoughts if it needed to be destroyed. 

In the meantime, Johanna sat down beside Hilda, an arm around her daughter. They didn’t speak, Hilda too tuned into the potion making, but the girl rested her head against her Mum’s shoulder as the Witches worked. Astrid threw open some windows, as the ingredients collected into a bubbling pink broth. Hilda loosened her scarf, sweating slightly as the heat built up. Finally, Tildy beckoned her and Johanna forth, wiping her brow with a handkerchief.

‘Alright, we just need to add the book,’ she explained, taking it from Astrid and before either Johanna or Hilda could object, she fed it into the frothing mixture. The cauldron shook momentarily, Hilda having to duck away from some splashing before she returned to her Mum’s side. 

‘Alright..now, the both of you hold hands and shut your eyes. `Anna, put all of your thoughts on your son and stick your hands into the potion on the count of three, ok?,’ Kaisa instructed. Johanna nodded stoically, and both she and Hilda rolled up their sleeves before she closed her eyes. Keeping her breathing steady, Johanna plunged into her memories. The only thing keeping her emotions anchored was Hilda’s grip, as Kaisa’s voice called out from above.

‘One..two..three!,’ she called, bringing her arm down like she was at the races. Hilda and Johanna immediately stuck their hands into the mixture, and in moments were swept off into somewhere else entirely. All Hilda saw at first was a blinding pink light..before she realised that she was sitting on something. Looking down, she saw that it was Harry’s old book, speeding along down a winding road. Looking up, her Mum was still gripping her hand tightly, eyes clenched shut. Hilda knew better to try and interrupt, soaking up the experience as they flew along. Eventually, the book took off like an aeroplane, Hilda instinctively putting a hand on her beret as they took off. 

Looking back, she saw the ground become tiny and realised that they were above the Wilderness, Trollberg’s mighty Walls visible in the distance. Further and further they went, and eventually Hilda glimpsed the motorways down below, great black things snaking their way across the land. The whole time, the experience felt like a dream, the sky above them being completely pink with blue clouds. After a few minutes, the book swerved and Hilda had to cling on, though her Mum seemed unshakeable from her stupor as they took off deeper into the countryside.

Hilda’s attention was momentarily drawn to some mountains nearby, making the ones that surrounded Trollberg seem tiny in comparison, when the book suddenly lurched sideways. Hilda’s stomach somersaulted as they dove towards the ground and, for a moment, she panicked. The wind pulled at her face and caused her to tear up, but the experience ended just as quickly. She felt her Mum squeeze her hand while their ride returned to gliding peacefully over green fields. 

In the distance, Hilda’s eyes narrowed towards an odd collection of rocks sticking out of the landscape. The book changed direction again, enough for Hilda to see that it was a monument of sorts, before they shot towards it. This time Hilda leaned forward, seeing that the ground in the centre of the stone circle was completely clear, like a window into another world…

She heard her Mum gasp and felt her eyes go so wide that she thought they’d fall out of her head. It was a pinprick at first, but as they spiralled downwards it grew into that of a small child with their back to them. A frail looking boy with overgrown blue hair, dressed in jeans and a white woollen top.

Harry.

Hilda and Johanna reached out, tears flying upwards, but their hands suddenly landed flat against the barrier with massive THUD that bounced around both their heads. The barrier shook at their impact, and Harry spun around. The boy looked terrified, and Johanna reacted immediately, slamming on the barrier repeatedly with both her fists.

‘HARRY!!,’ she cried out desperately, as Hilda also attempted to break through to her brother, but it was fruitless. Instead, Harry seemed to back away before he turned and ran into a fog that engulfed their view. Johanna slammed both fists on the barrier, screaming as Hilda stared on, pale and frozen by what she had seen. She was about to make another attempt to break through, when the book suddenly lurched backwards, shooting them back up into the sky. Johanna lurched over the top, arm stretched out in desperation as they were pulled away.

‘HARRRYYYY!!!!...’

‘...Johanna!’

With a gasp, Johanna lurched forward, finding herself slumped against the wall. She was in a cold sweat, shaking uncontrollably as Hilda sat sobbing in Astrid’s arms. Struggling to her feet with Kaisa’s help, Johanna’s first idea was to try and leap into the cauldron, before her daughter’s cries brought her back down to reality. Turning to Astrid, she scooped Hilda up, sitting down on a bed to console her. Eventually, Hilda managed to get a hold of herself, rocking back and forth as she gazed around the room. When her eyes fell the cauldron, though, her eyes went wide and she shot towards it. Before anyone could stop her, Hilda leapt up and cannonballed inside-

‘-oof!’

It was empty, drained completely of the mixture that had been spilling over previously. Some frantic pawing came at the door, which Astrid opened to reveal Twig and Lome. Hilda scooped the Deerfox up before she settled in the cauldron, holding Twig close and trying to wrap her head around what had just happened. 

‘It was so vivid!,’ Johanna gasped, grabbing a pen from her pocket and sketching what she had seen on the inside of a book. Of course, drawing in books was extremely frowned upon by Witches, but neither Tildy or Kaisa said a word as Johanna went on.

‘He was there..He really was there but-but something stopped us! A-A barrier..we tried to smash through but..but Harry just ran away..,’ she explained, turning her rushed, yet understandable drawing towards them. 

‘A barrier..it means that he is beyond our reach, beyond this world..,’ Tildy murmured, ‘You were right, Johanna! He’s been taken to the Otherworld!’

‘We..We ended up at this stone circle..it was like a monument!,’ Johanna explained, resting against the wall and putting a hand against her forehead, breathing deeply. Astrid snapped her fingers.

‘A portal tomb; the Tuatha de Danann use them to travel between this world and theirs,’ she explained, ‘..But there are none in the Wilderness, not that I know of at least! The legend was that they were chased out by the creatures that live here now..’

‘Where’s the nearest one?,’ Hilda asked, poking her head out of the cauldron with Twig. 

‘Too far away to consider going to,’ Astrid said firmly, ‘You’d be much better off going to Ireland itself!,’ she explained. Johanna didn’t look the least put off and she made towards the door, when she stumbled, putting a hand against the wall to support herself.

‘Mum!,’ Hilda called out, scrambling to her side. Johanna patted her on the shoulder, giving her a weak smile.

‘This..This has knocked the wind out of me..sweetheart..!,’ she murmured as Hilda hugged her leg, also exhausted. Twig stood up on his hind legs, pawing at Johanna nervously.

‘You both need rest,’ Astrid nodded, ‘Lome and I will happily have you over for the night!’

‘Thank you, Astrid..,’ Johanna breathed, sitting down against the wall with Hilda beside her. Kaisa joined them and her old friend chuckled, waving her off, though Kaisa made clear she wouldn’t be moved as she put an arm around her

‘I’m alright, Kaisa..I owe you both so much!,’ she sniffed, ‘I-I only bothered to..!,’ she began before Tildy put a calm finger to her lips. Whatever reassurances or warm words came next Hilda didn’t know, as she committed herself to fighting off her sleep. Despite herself, there was something alive inside her, bristling both with joy and anger, refusing to settle down. Her brother really was out there, frail, frightened and torn from his family. Like her Mother, Hilda wanted to get up and run; she’d swim to Ireland if it meant getting Harry back quicker..but her body refused. Slowly, steadily, the adventurer gave way to her fatigue, soon totally adrift in the Land of Nod…

Chapter Text

Despite his upbringing, it was rare for Harry to ever have nightmares. It might have been something to do with his magic, the memories he made soothing his mind. But when a night terror did strike, however, it was a terrifying experience . It would often be his Father dragging him from bed, his face warped into that of a monster with big paws and long claws, like a bear. Harry would endure a series of blows before he woke up, but that wasn’t the end. Almost every time Harry woke up, his nightmare would play out. Tadgh would barge into his room, beat him a couple of times in a drunken rage and then stumble back out again. 

It had been a long, long day in the Otherworld. After their massive lunch, Siobh had brought Harry out to the fields so they could prepare for his journey home. While Ruadrí dealt with the meat, Harry and Siobh had picked vegetables in a nearby patch. It had gotten tedious pretty quickly, and Harry was surprised to see that Siobh didn’t use the magic of Lightwork to help them through.

‘Elbow grease!,’ she’d grinned as she wrenched a bunch of carrots from the soil, ‘If we used magic for everything, we’d all become fat and lazy!’

The patch had taken up almost an entire field, and by the end Harry was pretty much dead on his feet. Rather than having them eat downstairs, Derbhla had kindly allowed him and Siobh to eat upstairs later, a treat according to her daughter. After bringing their plates back down and giving a heartfelt thanks despite his fatigue, Harry had collapsed into his bed and into his dreams..

..He found himself walking in a field, barely able to see ahead of him because of the dense fog all around. Trying to part the fog with his hands, Harry soon picked up on the sound of galloping behind him. It came closer and closer, and the boy quickened his pace. Becoming breathless, he spied the end of the field and darted towards it, where he dove inside a bush. The galloping pursued him the whole way, but stopped at the undergrowth. Harry tried to peer through the brambles, but could see nothing through the fog. He heard the horse pawing the ground, but eventually it galloped off, leaving Harry alone in the eerie silence.

Crawling through to the otherside of the bush, Harry found himself in a barren clearing, with dull green grass and surrounded by tall pine trees. The fog lingered around the edges, seemingly unable to enter as above, Harry saw the sky was thick with grey clouds. Despite the spookiness of this place, he found it almost..peaceful. There wasn’t a sound to be heard, and even the wind was silent. Harry was about to sit down, to stare up at the grey abyss, when a massive THUD rolled around the clearing, shaking him to his core. As he struggled to get a hold of himself, a woman's voice suddenly screamed out his name, rolling through the clearing and causing the pine needles to rustle violently.

‘HARRY!!’

Harry froze as the grotto shook repeatedly, eyes darting around frantically for the source, but he was alone as ever. Then the pounding came, a loud vicious pounding like someone slamming their fists on a table. Harry was too terrified to try and cover his ears, looking up in terror to see that the clouds were thundering. The pounding continued unceasingly, the whole time the woman’s voice screaming out his name. Louder and louder it became, the needles falling from the trees, which began to sway in a sudden, violent wind.

Harry was finally forced to move by the renewed sound of galloping, which began to circle the clearing. It sounded like there were more horses now, and the fog began to close in. Only in front of him did it recede, and Harry legged it into the unknown, sprinting into the forest as the woman’s voice screamed after him.

‘HARRRYYYY!!!...’

‘...Harry! Hey, Harry!’

Harry jolted awake, gasping as he looked around frantically. Pulling the covers close, he saw he was still in Siobh’s home and breathed a massive sigh of relief. He fell back onto the pillows, rolling over to see his friend standing next to him. Worry laced Siobh’s face, dressed in a pair of red tartan pyjamas. Harry had been a little nervous sleeping by himself, so they were sharing the same room, with Siobh taking the other bed near the window.

‘W-What happened there?,’ Siobh breathed, ‘Y-You were screaming!’

‘I was?,’ Harry murmured tiredly, before he remembered and shot up, ‘I-I was! A h-horse was..was c-chasing me through f-fog! Then..Then I-I heard this voice..‘It-It was a w-woman..,’ Harry exclaimed, shaken to his core once more, ‘They..They were screaming m-my name..everything w-was shaking..!’

‘It's ok..It's ok!,’ Siobh said earnestly, ‘Look, just..just breathe with me, ok? That's it..just in and out like that..’

Harry felt a little better, settling back into the pillows, but he knew just the trick to settle himself fully. Pushing himself up against the headrest, he looked to Siobh as he prepared to snap his fingers.

‘Do-Do you want t-to meet my Mum?’ He asked and the girl nodded quietly. Harry didn't really know how to go about it though, but figured that thinking about his memories with his eyes open might be enough. Staring at the end of the bed, he clicked his fingers a couple of times and to his joy, it actually worked. She was blurry, and didn't seem to be looking at anything, but his Mum appeared at the end of his bed. Her blue hair was messy like his, and she wore a white t-shirt with jeans. Siobh watched, mesmerised.

‘She's beautiful..,’ she murmured, ‘..Do you know her name?,’ she asked, looking back at Harry. He didn't respond for a moment, leaning forward slightly, lost in the comfort of the illusion. It was another couple of minutes before he responded.

‘Johanna..my D-Dad he..he l-let it slip by accident. H-He wasn't happy w-when I heard..’

‘We'll get you back to her, I promise,’ Siobh replied firmly, putting a fist across her heart as a sign of her commitment. Harry smiled tiredly, and he thought about trying to bring up the image of his sister too, but decided against it. It was late, and they would probably be up early in the morning. Still, Siobh remained by his side until she was sure he had gone to sleep, before she returned to her own bed and to her own dreams..

____________________

..the next day, after a hearty breakfast, Harry found himself in the family barn, a large, boxy stone structure that sat awkwardly next to the wholesome little cottage. Harry found himself staring down a dirt track that went down and around the hill he stood on, out towards civilization, out towards his family. The sound of Ruadrí throwing something into the wagon behind him jolted Harry from his trance, himself holding a large yet light sack of grain. 

‘Toss it up there now!,’ Ruadrí instructed, and Harry did his best, but could barely get it halfway up the side before his frail form gave out. With a click of his fingers though, Ruadrí caught it and lifted up his hand, which sent the bag tumbling into the wagon. 

‘Harry..can I ask you something?,’ Ruadrí said, having stepped away to tinker with the front of the wagon. It soon became clear why, as Harry visibly went on edge. Siobh wasn’t with them, out in the fields tending to the sheep. Ruadrí heard him step away, and looked over to see Harry was patting the snout of a mighty stallion. 

‘Y-Yeah..,’ Harry replied after a minute. It was little more than a whisper, but the Tuatha de Danann had better hearing than most, so Ruadrí was able to make it out.

‘You and Siobh were out picking vegetables for who knows how long yesterday. Did she not use any magic?,’ Ruadrí asked. He saw Harry open his mouth, and then close it again. Unsurprising, he thought, the boy probably didn’t want to tell tales about his first and only friend. Ruadrí and Derbhla had already guessed the answer anyway, as he looked out the other end of the barn. He could make out Siobh, herding the sheep quietly.

Up there in the fields, Siobh didn’t know what to think of herself. To someone like Harry, she probably came across as quite outgoing and extroverted, but the truth was that she was quite the opposite. Down in her village, other children called her An Cailín Ciúin; The Quiet Girl. Siobh only ever went down there for school or if her parents sent her down for errands, but other than that, she preferred to look after the crops and animals. She didn’t do this because she was anti-social, or because she was bullied, but because she was ashamed. 

Ashamed that she struggled with even the most basic Lightwork skills.

Waving a sheep off with her Crook, Siobh sat down and took off her broach. Looking at it when she felt like this only made her feel more miserable, but she couldn’t help it. The first thing young Tuatha learned was metalworking, usually with soft metals like bronze or tin. Practically everyone in Siobh’s class had gotten the hang of it pretty quickly, but not her. She tended to panic if something went wrong, which would then quickly go to her head. It didn’t help either that she’d be moved to the top of the room so her teachers could help her more, but in reality it only made things worse. Being up there with the brightest of the bunch, designing and creating their prototypes effortlessly, hadn’t done wonders for Siobh’s self esteem.

She’d panicked when she’d lost control of the fire, the broach she wore now having been her tenth attempt that week. In desperation, she’d pulled it out and dumped it into the water, hence the petrified bronze droplets that decorated it haphazardly. She’d forced herself to be proud of it, and her parents had clapped her on the back and said well done, but Siobh felt their smiles had been forced. It had taken her a whole extra month to complete it, the last of her class to do so..

And then there was her damn crook-!!

Siobh was shaken from her thoughts by the sound of something plodding up behind her. She knew who it was instantly, turning to pat Boru on the side of his head. He was an Irish Wolfhound, and helped tend to the sheep around their fields. A great big lanky thing, Boru and Siobh had a close bond. The hound was older, much older, than she was and had acted as her protector when she was young. Boru was also completely blind, though it didn’t stop him from performing his duties as a sheepdog in the slightest.

Boru sat down and licked the top of Siobh’s head affectionately, being much taller than her. The girl felt her doubts melt away, to be confronted another time when she heard some more nervous footsteps approach. Boru looked over lazily, though Harry felt his empty eyes study him intently. Even the sheep had paused to look at the stranger, as he extended a hand and helped Siobh to her feet. 

‘Y-Your Dad says we-we’re going now..!’ he murmured, though the eagerness in his voice was evident. Siobh grinned and looked to Boru, whose head was bowed in apprehension even as he continued to pant away lazily. Harry had to step back, the hounds breath didn’t exactly smell great.

‘Tá mé ag tabhairt an buachaill abhaile le Athair!’ Siobh explained, and Boru let out a loud whine at her words, following the children as they went back down towards the barn.

‘..He’s s-sad..’ Harry said, looking back to see Boru plodding along dejectedly behind them.

‘I didn’t tell him I would be leaving,’ Siobh explained, ‘He’s pretty protective of me, and he had enough time he might have had something to say about it!’

Boru grunted behind them, as if confirming Siobh’s words. She turned and stuck her tongue out cheekily, as they entered the barn to find Derbhla and Ruadrí talking together quietly. They were evidently having a private moment, so Siobh and Harry held back. The boy was able to see Ruadrí’s hands from here though, and could see that they were still covered in blood. Derbhla didn’t seem to mind holding them though, and kissed her husband before she turned to the children. Ruadrí, meanwhile, put on a pair of brown woollen gloves.

‘I’ve brought your things down for you!,’ she explained, lifting up Harry’s bag and patting a sack inside the wagon before she came over. Boru whined loudly again, wagging his tail but Derbhla simply smiled and shook her head, causing the hound to grunt once more.

‘Tá sí níos mó ná sean go leor!,’ Derbhla laughed, and Siobh’s eyes lit up at what Harry assumed was her Mum’s confidence in her. Boru moped over to Ruadrí, probably to try and convince him too. Derbhla waved Siobh off as well, before she stepped past Harry and motioned for him to follow. The boy did so, more comfortable with her than Ruadrí for obvious reasons.

‘Everything’s set,’ Derbhla explained kindly, a warm smile on her face, ‘You should reach Trollberg in a couple of days and you’ll be back with your Mother before you can say presto !’ she laughed. Harry bounced on his heels and flapped his hands slightly. He tried to say thank you, knowing it would be rude to leave without doing so..but he couldn’t. Some part of him was still nervous of her, or perhaps, nervous of the journey ahead. Derbhla cocked her head slightly, before she kneeled down and opened her arms for a hug. After a bit of hesitation, Harry accepted it.

Her embrace was the warmest thing he had ever felt, and Derbhla’s hair tickled his nose a little as he settled. She wasn’t his Mum, but she was a Mum and being in a Mother’s loving embrace pushed Harry over the point of tears. Derbhla felt his shoulders rack weakly, as she pressed a hand to the back of his head and closed her eyes, soothing him softly,  rocking him back and forth gently. Finally, Harry’s nerves gave way, allowing him to speak freely.

‘Th-Thank y-you..!,’ he sniffled, ‘Thank you!,’ looking up at her. Derbhla smiled, passing a hand through his fringe as Harry forced himself to pull away. As much as he wanted to stay, his real family was waiting for him up above. Derbha tugged on his sleeve though, and offered Harry something from her palm. On closer inspection, he saw that it was a coin, decorated with the Great Tree, Danu, that Siobh had told him about.

‘The world isn’t always what it seems,’ Derbhla said cryptically, ‘If you or your family ever need help, please, don’t hesitate. If you rub the tree with your thumb three times over, my family will answer your call,’ she explained, caressing Harry’s cheek. The boy nodded silently, studying the coin as they walked over to join Siobh and Ruadrí, already in the wagon. Hopping up onto the back, Siobh helped Harry inside and her Mum kissed her on the forehead.

‘Don’t doubt yourself my uan,’ she smiled, tousling her hair, ‘But don’t do anything your father wouldn’t do either!,’ she warned, as Boru stood up between them to get some pats from the children. He whined a little once more, but seemed to understand he couldn’t change anything now. Ruadrí cracked the reins, and the carriage set off out of the barn. The Sun was still rising, and Derbhla followed them out to the front gate with Boru, waving them off as they turned down the dirt track. 

‘May the wind be at your backs! ádh mór!, go n-éirí leat!’ Derbhla called out, though Harry’s attention was more focused on the horizon in front of them, an endless sea of green fields with homes dotted around haphazardly. The road would be long, the journey unpredictable, but he put his faith in Siobh and Ruadrí to get them through whatever obstacles that lay ahead. Siobh twiddled her crook nervously, and she felt Harry place his hand on top of hers. Taking it, she gave him a firm smile, casting one last look over at her Cottage as it disappeared out of sight.

_______________________

Harry soon noticed the cluster of buildings not far off in the distance, and the top of a great tree that poked out over all of them in the centre. As they approached, they passed more and more people, sometimes walking alone or chatting with another. As they drew closer to the village, Harry’s attention was caught by the stone pillar sitting in the middle of the road, with a man sitting on top of it. With one leg over the other, he had a long, messy beard and raised a silent hand to stop them in their tracks. 

‘That’s one of the Fianna from another village,’ Siobh explained, ‘Remember how Mum said they go about fighting each other from other towns? That’s one we caught a few months ago, we sentenced him to traffic stops for all eternity!,’ she giggled, though Ruadrí gave her disapproving look.

‘Don’t tell fibs, Siobh. We only said half an eternity after all!,’ he chuckled, as the man silently directed more traffic ahead of them. Harry wondered why they needed such measures, but soon noticed a bunch of flowers tied to the wall next to them. Evidently, accidents had happened before. Ruadrí cracked the reins once more and they were off, and he felt Siobh nudge him. His friend offered him a cloak with a hood, and Harry understood immediately. His blue hair would definitely cause them to be slowed down by curious onlookers. 

The boundary of the village was marked by a low stone wall, put together by hand with stones of several shapes and sizes. A guard post stood to one side, with its occupant looking vigilant as they studied the horizon. Harry trembled slightly looking at the massive spear in his hand, and the man suddenly locked eyes with him. Harry felt his heart leap into his throat, but the warrior simply gave a wink and a smile before they continued on. 

‘This is our sleepy little village..,’ Siobh murmured, hunched over slightly and resting her crook on her lap. She had a hood on her own woollen white cloak, and swung the hood over her head like Harry had done. Before he had time to worry about it though, the carriage jostled slightly, bringing them to a stop. Ruadrí muttered something, and it soon became clear as to why. There was a long line of carriages in front of them, curving with the cobbled road that ran through the town. They couldn’t see the cause, but Ruadrí turned around and took a small sack from his cloak. He tossed it towards them and Siobh caught it. Harry noticed the stop was slightly stained with blood.

‘Go and find out what’s happening up there, and get yourselves something nice on the way back!,’ he called out, the sleepy little village being anything but. Horses whinnying, people laughing and chatting, the loud sound of music coming from somewhere. All the noise was a bit much for Harry, and he only moved once he noticed Siobh was halfway out the carriage. He hopped down after her, and they made their way along the line of horses. The first thing he noticed was just how clean the road was.

‘That’s cause you guys don’t know how to house train your horses!,’ Siobh explained when asked. She sounded jolly, but her voice was strained. Harry wondered briefly if she was like him, hating little things like a chair being pulled across the floor and whatnot. Before he could linger on it for any longer, he jumped at the loud sound of voices in front of them calling Siobh’s name. She stopped, and Harry heard her sigh loudly, gripping the crook tightly.

‘Don’t worry,’ she assured, looking back at Harry, ‘They’re just people who think we’re friends..’

Harry looked around her to see two near-identical children, both fair with sandy blonde hair. A boy and a girl, they were both dressed in cream tunics, with the girl wearing a light brown dress. Unlike Siobh, they both seemed lively and full of optimism, soaking up the merriment of the village around them. When they reached them, they started chattering away to Sobh in their language, while Harry hung back awkwardly. 

‘Long time no see!,’ the boy grinned, ‘Aoife and I were just up selling our chicken eggs!’

‘Great!,’ Siobh replied, pretending to care, ‘I hate to rush, but we need to see what’s causing this jam up here..we’re taking my cousin back to his family!,’ she added quickly, realising she had just dragged Harry into the conversation. The girl looked around her to Harry, raising an eyebrow.

‘Cousin? Can’t say we’ve seen him in the village yet! Don’t tell me you’ve just had him working the fields!,’ she laughed. Siobh rummaged within herself for an answer, while Harry had detached himself from the conversation entirely. His attention was on a tall figure, on the second floor of a thatched building. Said place seemed to be a restaurant or pub, with people eating or being served food outside. The figure lay on the windowsill within, probably like the wide one Siobh had in her room, and wore a wide cloak. Only some tall boots, not unlike the one’s Ruadrí wore, were visible. 

They looked like they were asleep, and Harry would have thought the same thing..if his gut didn’t tell him he was being watched. He knew what it felt like, His Dad would often give him a wicked side eye, filled with contempt before he’d lash out at him. This stranger fit the bill exactly, and even though Harry couldn’t see their face, he was certain they were staring back. The world around him became more echoey as he zeroed in on the stranger, when the sounds suddenly exploded around him once more. Harry jolted backwards, having felt someone tap him on the shoulder.

‘Oh, sorry!’ Aoife laughed, before she offered Harry a small, crudely made wooden doll. Not wanting to seem rude, Harry held off his nerves and took the doll. He nodded a thanks and the girl smiled, before she and her sibling went up the road.

‘Bye Siobh!’ the boy called back. Siobh simply waved, saying nothing. Once they were gone, she looked at Harry apologetically. 

‘Sorry..I didn’t know she was going to that..’ she murmured, but Harry simply shrugged as they continued on their way. As he put the doll into his pocket, he felt one of its legs give way. The thing really hadn’t been made to last.

‘W-Who were th-they?’

‘Oh, Angus and Aoife..to be honest, I’m a bit of a loner around here. They just decided to be my friends one day. It’s nice, but sometimes I find them a little overbearing..’

‘..at least t-they’re nice,’ Harry muttered to himself. In school, children had ignored them in case they were also bullied for being friends with the local freak.

‘At least they’re nice,’ Siobh nodded, ‘But let’s not linger on it,’ she said forcefully as they reached the end of the village. There was a group gathered at the end of the line of carts, and Siobh nodded towards the wall so they could sit down and listen. Again, Harry didn’t have a clue what was being said, but he did hear one word being repeated constantly; Tuireann.

‘A Man of Tuireann is to pass through these gates, I have foreseen it!’ A plump man yelled from atop another stone pillar, kicking away a ladder that someone was trying to use to reach him. As the crowd beneath him grumbled, Siobh saw that it was no ordinary traffic attendant either, but rather the local Druid. 

‘At this time of day, at this time of year and in this tiny little town!?’ A woman snapped back angrily, ‘The Men of Tuireann only strike between dusk and dawn, in the middle of winter!’

‘They will strike anytime if you pay them well enough!,’ The Druid declared , ‘I have foreseen that a Man of Tuireann will pass through these gates and until he is found and driven from the village, none may pass whatsoever! I decree it!’

‘W-Who’s “chur-in”,’ Harry asked nervously, breaking Siobh’s concentration. 

‘A cult of assassins,’ she grimaced, ‘They go from village to village looking for grudges to buy..looking for people who want to see their own kin dead. But at the same time, they haven’t been around for years. The Fianna got together and kicked them out of their dens. Our old Druid up there is a bit cooky!,’ Siobh explained, tapping the side of her head, ‘Just..he can be a bit stubborn too, I don’t know how long we’ll be here..’

‘M-Maybe you could tr-try to t-talk..? Y-You’re a Dr-Druid..right?’

‘There's a fine line between learning to be a Druid and actually being one’ Siobh replied stiffly, ‘..But I suppose we could give it a shot’ she added quickly, as Harry recoiled slightly at her tone. They both hopped off the wall and made their way towards the crowd. Siobh raised her crook high in the air, catching the attention of her stubborn elder.

‘Oh? What have we here?’ he remarked, shuffling to face them, ‘Children playing magic tricks, that's what!,’ he exclaimed, causing a murmur of laughter to float through the crowd. Siobh gripped her crook tightly, while Harry looked around anxiously. At that moment, he thought he saw a shadow dart through the entrance behind him, but before he could try to get Siobh’s attention she was already talking. 

‘Venerable Druid..I don't claim to know better than you, but at the same time a lot of people are being held up by this, including my family! You see..we took in this boy not long ago, and we're honourbound to return him to his family!,’ she explained, gesturing to Harry, who looked about, blinking in befuddlement. The Druid shifted forward, managing to stick to the edge of the pillar despite his size and the fact anyone else would have fallen off. 

‘It is a matter of my honour that this village be kept safe!’ he retorted, ‘And the threat has not yet passed!’ 

‘Would you have everyone come out of the village then!?’ a voice called out angrily from the crowd. The Druid twisted about and jabbed his crook at the offender.

‘I curse you with worms falling out of your nose for a fortnight!’

‘Argh!’

A man went running from the crowd back towards the village. The Druid swivelled back towards Harry and Siobh, looking immensely satisfied.

‘I shall not be moved until the threat has passed, or until something greater requires my attention!’ he declared, drawing a collective groan from the crowd. Harry found himself dejected and quite frustrated too. He was finally on the road back to his Mum and sister, only for some wacko Druid to get in their way chasing assassins. Choosing his disappointment over anger, he pulled one of his model trains from his pocket and began rolling it up and down the weathered surface of the pillar.

‘What's that racket!?,’ the Druid demanded, peering over the side, ‘What in the heavens has that lad got there?’  

Harry froze up when he felt all eyes on him and his little green train. Siobh noticed the opportunity as curious murmurings took over the crowd, and went for it. 

‘I think it's called a..car-?’

‘t-train..!’ Harry whispered to her quickly, catching on to what she was doing, ‘Faster t-than a h-horse!’

‘A train! Faster than the quickest stallion of Tara!’ Siobh declared to the crowd, exaggerating things slightly. It had the intended effect, and the crowd ooo’d in curiosity. The Druid in particular was intrigued, fingers scratching his hairy beard in excitement.

‘Surely such an object requires my attention!’ he said giddily, reaching for the toy. Harry didn't have any intention of handing one of his beloved toys over though, and pulled away, anger dawning on his face. A tension came over the crowd, and the Druid's face became stone-like. Before anything could happen, though, a familiar voice cut in. 

‘A Druid stealing children's toys? Never thought I would see the day!’

Ruadrí had appeared, seemingly from nowhere. The Druid snapped out of his trance and darted back to the top of the pillar as the crowd redirected their ire onto him.

‘Ruadrí’s right!’

‘Leave the boy alone!’

‘Alright! Alright! I admit my curiosity got the best of me!,’ The Druid conceded, standing up, ‘But the threat of Tuireann has not passed-!’

He stopped himself, and his eyes narrowed towards the gate. He peered at the top of his crook, and then holding it sheepishly in both hands, he chuckled awkwardly at the top of his perch.

‘Oh..well, my vision tells me that the threat has gone..it means the assassin has slipped through our fingers!’ he declared, trying to salvage some credit. Having enough, the crowd surged towards the pillar, shouting angrily. Ruadrí pulled Siobh and Harry back, as people stood on each other's shoulders to get at the Druid. With a click of his fingers though, he shapeshifted into a owl and flew back towards the village, crook held between his beak. A member of the crowd took up direction duty, while Ruadrí and the children hurried back towards their carriage.

‘What was he on about? Tuireann?’ Ruadrí breathed as they chambered on board and he cracked the reins. Siobh and Harry found a bag of sweets waiting for them in their seat, which hadn't been there before.

‘The Men of Tuireann,’ Siobh explained, ‘Y'know, the assassins! It wasn't that long ago that the Fianna took them out!’

‘Yes..,’ Ruadrí murmured, ‘Druids..they spend too much time in their huts brewing away their potions, the fumes go to their head I think!’ He laughed as they made their way out of town. Harry and Siobh picked away at the sweets, rubbery jellies that reminded Harry of bouncy balls, and which were exploding with flavour.

‘Don't eat those all at once!,’ Ruadrí called back, ‘I went down to the crossroads when the shopkeep told me he hadn't seen you in!’

‘For the best I say!,’ Siobh grinned mischievously as she took the bag of coins from her cloak and waved it in front of Harry. With a click of her father's fingers though, they were back in his hand. Harry chuckled while Siobh grumbled a little and they settled down. She nodded at his pocket and Harry took out his train, holding it out for her to take. Siobh did so, spinning the wheels over and over with her thumbs.

‘We’ve got a long road ahead of us, why don’t you help kill time and tell Dad and I all about these trains of yours!’ she grinned eagerly, all her old doubts from earlier being buried, for now.

‘Okie dokie!’ Harry grinned, pulling his bag out from under them. As Siobh soon struggled to understand his excited babble, a shadow followed them along the treeline, twigs breaking silently under its boots and wildlife cowering in their burrows before them. The Assassin had to stop eventually, but watched as the wagon carrying their cargo and their target disappeared over the crest of a hill. As the girl had said, the road ahead was long, and its bends would be many and unpredictable. They would have time. Yes, they would have plenty of time…

Chapter Text

In a wooded area not far from Siobh’s village, Tadgh was thrown face down into the mud, his sword rolling away from him. A figure behind him tsk’d under his breath, about the same height as Tadgh and covered in a black cloak that concealed their face. Tadgh struggled to his feet and clicked his fingers towards his weapon, but the sword just bounced limply. Before he could try again, another figure charged Tadgh from his left, knocking him over and sending him back into the mud.

‘..Bastard..!,’ Tadgh gasped, winded as he reached out and grabbed the handle of his blade. He rolled over and threw the sword at his latest attacker, but they simply jerked their head to one side, allowing the blade to spin past them and crash into the other end of the clearing. 

‘What do we possibly have to gain from bringing him along? He is fat and weak!’ the second cloaked figure spat angrily at the first, ‘Too much time spent in the luxury of the old world!,’ they said mockingly, pointing their sword at Tadgh. Enraged, but knowing not to push his luck, Tadgh took the insult as another figure strode into the clearing. They pulled back their hood to reveal they were a fair, brown haired man with brilliant orange eyes, who approached the short figure and kneeled before them.

‘Rise and speak,’ they hissed. Tadgh felt the hair stand up at the back of his neck as they did. He wasn’t afraid, but every time this assassin spoke it made his skin crawl. The taller one seemed nervous of them as well, sweat forming on his brow even as he remained smiling.

‘I observed our target leaving the village, going along the north road,’ he explained, rising to his full height, ‘They had two children with them and a wagon full of supplies, they’ll probably be on the road for a couple of days or more’

‘We pack at once,’ the short one rasped, sheathing his sword and doing a wolf-whistle. Two more figures leapt from makeshift tents that were propped up at the centre of clearing, quickly taking them down and stuffing them into packs. Tadgh watched impatiently, making his away around the clear up to retrieve his sword while the short leader and another assassin hurried off into another part of the wood. 

So far, Tadgh’s time with the Men of Tuireann had been a nightmare. He’d been forced to sleep outside in the clearing, given little to eat and drink as well as having the snot beaten out of him. The assassins seemed far more interested in who Harry was travelling with rather than Harry himself, despite Tadgh’s insistence that his son be the focus of their operation. Tadgh loathed the idea of being a lackey, but knew he had been put in that role already. He was probably just a convenient way for these murderers to get to their target, whoever the hell that was..

‘I’m surprised you fit into that,’ someone remarked, the man who has just returned from the village. Tadgh spun around angrily, baring his sword, but was immediately outplayed. He felt the cold of steel against his neck before he even had time to raise his weapon. The man's eyes glistened as he grinned maniacally, before he brought his blade away. He was the same one who had recruited Tadgh in the pub the other day, and the only one who seemed to care somewhat about his mission.

‘I saw your son y’know,’ he remarked casually, leaning lazily against a tree, ‘He was staring up at me through the window I was in. Scrawny little thing, he was, don’t you feed him?’ he asked, putting on an exaggerated tone of concern. Tadgh paused briefly, then grunted as he sheathed his weapon.

‘He didn’t eat much, he never took to the old world,’ he shrugged, trying to sound casual. The man chuckled briefly, probably seeing through his lie as the leader and the other assassin returned, each guiding two black horses. Tadgh was fast growing tired of not knowing who was who, and reluctantly turned back to the messenger. They were watching him intently, passing the sword casually in between his gloved hands. Tadgh had wondered briefly why they hadn’t been made to pack up camp, but had been quick to realise their purpose; watching him and making sure he didn’t move against his “allies”.

‘I didn’t catch any of yer names..’

‘Tuireann,’ they replied simply, pointing with his sword at each Man of Tuireann as they finished packing the camp, ‘Each and every one of us are Tuireann, we give up everything to join his order, including our names,’ he explained. Tadgh nodded slowly, casting a curious eye over the others. He had grown up on the old myths when he was young, the tales of heroic Fianna or crafty Druids facing these Assassins. The tales had never given much explanation as to how these enemies had functioned, and now Tadgh would learn first hand. 

‘You, large one,’ the Lead Tuireann snarled, looking comedically short on his horse, ‘Ride with our brother there and be quick about it!,’ he ordered hoarsely as the brown haired man hopped up onto his steed. 

‘Will we be able to get another one? I’m not some useless damsel in distress!,’ Tadgh moaned, but the Leader simply drew back his cloak, revealing the hilt of his sword. Audibly swallowing his pride, Tadgh heaved himself up onto the horse, which grunted at his weight. With a crack of the reins, the Men of Tuireann sprang forward, galloping fiercely through the undergrowth. Tadgh was forced to cling onto Tuireann’s waist for dear life, but Tuireann himself didn’t seem bothered, pulling up his hood.

‘I’m afraid you are a damsel!,’ they laughed mockingly, ‘You wouldn’t last a second out there by yourself! The Gatekeepers know your face and would have you in no time!’

‘H-Haven’t s-seen t-them y-yet!,’ Tadgh barked back, the bounce of the horse causing him to stutter. The man threw back his head in laughter, causing Tadgh to lurch back almost too far. Smirking at the momentary appearance of fear on his passengers face, Tuireann returned to talking.

‘Oh, not yet, but soon! They’re walking through the lanes and towns, asking anyone and anything if they’ve seen a bumbling fool like yourself!,’ Tuireann jeered as they continued to thunder through the forest. Tadgh’s blood boiled and he thought about trying to crash the horse, but decided against it. Horses had a mind of their own in the Otherworld, chances were that he’d be only one tossed off and with the speed they were going at, he’d probably be killed instantly. 

‘We’re going underground!,’ One of the Tuireanns called from the front. Tadgh copied his accompanying Tuireann, ducking as the ground below them seemed to sink gradually. Finally, they were engulfed by darkness and the thick smell of soil, as the charge continued unceasingly into the unknown, as Harry and company blissfully continued on their way up above..

_____________________________________________________________________

The cart trundled along the country roads, about a couple of hours outside of Siobh’s village by now. Ruadrí cast an eye back at Harry and Siobh, still going over all of Harry’s mementoes, though the conversation had shifted somewhat to general facts about the world Harry had fallen down from. Their bag of bouncy ball jellies remained dutifully unfinished, though Siobh had had to fight Harry a little so she could put them away. 

‘People fly in these!?,’ Siobh asked, bewildered, looking up from Harry’s crude drawing of an aeroplane, ‘Geez..it must stink in there with all those people..’

‘I-I’ve never b-been in one..,’ Harry murmured, ‘P-People go in these b-big boats too..we c-call them ferries! O-One use to dock i-in town..’

‘Ugh..don’t talk to me about ferries..,’ Siobh muttered, sticking out her tongue, ‘My parents and I went out on this popular lake when I was young. I got so seasick that they had to drop a lifeboat and row us back..’

‘The most worried I’ve ever seen your Mother!,’ Ruadrí called over, ‘You threw up almost two days worth of food I reckon!,’ he explained, laughing as he did. Siobh looked back up the road silently at his words, her Father’s laugh making her smile, but a sadness also took hold as well.

‘Are you sad?,’ Harry asked blankly and his friend nodded, rolling one of his toy trains back and forth with one finger.

‘..I miss Mum and Boru’ Siobh explained softly, ‘And I’ve never actually left our village before..usually just kicked around on the farm cause that’s the only thing I’m good at..’

Harry remembered what Ruadrí had asked him about back in the barn, if Siobh had used any magic when they had been harvesting the vegetables. He hadn’t answered, worried she might have gotten in trouble, but it made a lot more sense now. Looking back at Ruadrí, he didn’t seem to have heard their quiet words over the noise of the cart. 

‘Y-You’re good at-at magic..!’ Harry added awkwardly, trying to cheer her up. It had the complete opposite effect though, and Siobh’s face quickly bubbled up in emotion. As she began to sniffle, Harry felt himself panic when the cart suddenly came to a stop. Frightened that Ruadrí was annoyed that he had upset his daughter, Harry looked around fearfully. Instead, he saw that they had stopped outside of a lone building on the side of the road. He felt Siobh nudge him, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

‘It’s a roadside tavern..,’ she sniffed, ‘You see them all the time, they’re for people going on long journeys like us!,’ she explained. Her jolly attitude had returned and Harry decided to roll with it, stomach growling as they hopped off the back of the cart. Harry had slung his bag around his shoulder, and was surprised to see that they were just leaving the cart out in the open. It also struck him that there was still plenty of food in the cart.

‘W-Why are we e-eating here?’ he asked Siobh, holding the door open for her. 

‘Oh, we have plenty of food, Dad just wants a coffee is all!’ she explained as Harry followed her inside and was immediately deafened by all the noise. The tavern was alive with laughter and chat, and most of it seemed to be coming from one group in particular. There were about ten of them, sitting around a corner table all laughing and drinking. They ranged in appearance, shapes and sizes, with some being shirtless altogether. Ruadrí led Harry and Siobh over to a booth on the other, with Harry’s hands clamped over his ears the whole way.

‘Those are the Fianna,’ Ruadrí explained, Harry barely being able to hear him over the din, ‘They’re harmless, don’t worry. I’m just going to have a drink to boost the energy levels, then we’ll have some lunch outside before we set off again!’ 

Harry nodded timidly, as a jaded looking waitress came over with three menus tucked under her arm. Ruadrí declined the menus, ordering a simple coffee and some hot milk to go along with it. The woman smiled tiredly, probably glad they wouldn’t have to cook more as a chef came out from the kitchen carrying six plates of food. As the waitress prepped Ruadrí’s coffee, the Fianna tucked in and went through six plates in under two minutes, adding them to an ever increasing pile.

‘And do you know where the bathroom is?’ Ruadrí asked politely once she returned. The woman nodded towards two doors at the end of the room, and lingered once Ruadrí got up and left. 

‘He’s dressed like an assassin!’ she laughed in Irish. Harry didn’t understand a word, but Siobh just smiled a little at a remark. What she was really focused on was how the noise had just..stopped. The Fianna had stopped their laughing, eating and drinking to look over towards their booth suspiciously. A tall, dark, well built man with a shiny bald head rose to his feet. 

‘Are there assassins?’ he demanded with a booming voice, as several hands went for the hilts of their swords. The woman sighed and shook her head, pinching her eyes with thumb and forefinger.

‘No, there are no assassins,’ she sighed, throwing her head up to the sky, ‘It’s all ye’ve been talking about for the past hour!’ she exclaimed, stalking back off to the kitchen. The man sat back down and the Fianna murmured among themselves for a minute, before they returned to their laughter. Harry just sat there, not having a clue what had just been said. He looked to SIobh for answers, but his friend just shrugged, not wanting to unnerve him with the talk of assassins.

‘W-What are t-those words..,’ Harry asked, walking his fingers along the table, ‘I..I’ve n-never h-heard them..’

‘It’s Irish,’ Siobh explained casually, ‘It’s the language we speak down here, but we learn English too cause most people falling down here don’t speak it’

‘Well explained, Siobh,’ Ruadrí remarked as he sat down, Harry smelling the soap off his hands. The Fianna’s conversation simmered down again as he returned, but quickly picked back up again. Ruadrí regarded them briefly as he sipped his tea, before he set it down again and beckoned the children in close.

‘I heard everything,’ he explained, ‘Talk of assassins..’

‘A-Assassins..!?,’ Harry breathed, gripping the edge of the table, ‘L-Like the D-Druid was-was talking a-about!?’

Ruadrí glanced at him sheepishly, realising that Siobh probably hadn’t clued him in as his daughter gave him a frosty look. He chuckled, patting her on the shoulder as Harry glanced between them worriedly.

‘Ah, see, adults make mistakes too!,’ he grinned, before looking at Harry, ‘There’s likely no assassins, but the Fianna are vigilant. It took a while to smoke the Men of Tuireann out of their fox holes..,’ he muttered. Harry nodded, as Siobh shot him an apologetic look. Ruadrí waved his hand casually, moving the conversation on. Outside, Harry looked out to see that the Sun was starting to dip, lighting up the fields. Harry’s internal clock was skewed by this, usually lunch meant it was early in the afternoon, right? When asked, Siobh laughed, kicking her legs under the table.

‘Course not! You guys don’t eat much up there!’ she giggled, ‘If this was the other way around, and you had to get me home, I’d probably starve to death!,’ she joked morbidly. Still, Harry smiled, his brief glance away from the window allowing a shadowy figure to dart back towards the treeline.

‘Well, Tuireann?,’ the stumpy leader hissed. This Tuireann, a slender dark woman, slumped down against a tree, breathing heavily from the quick dashing she had to do so as to not be seen. She hadn’t been with Tadgh and the others initially; rather they had joined up with another group of assassins en route. Now, their numbers stood at ten including Tadgh.

‘They’re in there,’ she nodded, ‘The cart didn’t have any sign of your brat, but I saw him in there,’ she said to Tadgh, who simply shrugged at the remark.

‘Brat now..warrior later..,’ he muttered, hand on top of his sword, ‘What are we waiting for then? Let’s get in there and do what we need to do!,’ he growled, but the words were hardly out of his mouth when the lead Tuireann drew his blade and brought it within inches of Tadgh’s throat.

‘You decide nothing!,’ he rasped, and a few specks of blood appeared on his cloak, such was his fury, ‘There is more to this, speak quickly, woman!’ he demanded, bringing the sword to the tip of her nose. She looked remarkably unshaken and went on without a quaver in her voice.

‘There are a band of Fianna in there too, about ten. They’re looking for assassins, I heard them stop their revels to ask,’ she explained. The remaining three assassins glanced at each other and even Tadgh swallowed. He knew the Fianna were a force to be reckoned with, even with a few drinks in them. They’d probably have to deal with the staff at the Tavern as well.

‘And our target is certain to fight as well..,’ the Leader muttered, ‘..taking one of the runts captive wouldn’t work, we are simply too few. I decree we wait in shadow, wait until they rest their tired minds and then strike at once!,’ he declared. The Assassins crept away, though Tadgh remained where he was. Moving closer to the edge of the treeline, he saw Harry’s face looking out the window again. The smile on his face, his eyes full of happiness, made Tadgh grit his teeth. Because, from his perspective, his rat of a son had deserted him and now Tadgh had to hide in the dirt with a bunch of outlaws. Clenching his fists and following the others, Tadgh swore to make his son pay for smiling at his predicament..

_______________________________________

After leaving the tavern, Harry and company remained outside for the evening, making themselves a hearty lunch. Harry had gotten particularly creative, most of his meals having been a mouldy single cheese sandwich. Siobh and Ruadrí had watched with a mix of mirth and sadness, as Harry combined butter and jam, scoffed a ham and cheese with peanut butter before trying (and failing) to eat a lemon slice. By the end, he was lying flat on his back, stomach full and mind weary. Siobh joined him, staring up at the blackening sky as Ruadrí cracked the reins and they continued on.

‘I..I like the stars too..,’ Harry murmured, ‘I-It’s weird..we’re underground..right?’

‘Our worlds are linked,’ Ruadrí called over, ‘You could find a road identical to this one back in your world, and at night the barrier between them is weakened, so we can all see the stars!’

‘You probably have different names for them though..,’ Siobh yawned, ‘I mean..I assume you do..I’m not one of those loopy star types..’

‘Do you think I’m loopy..,’ Harry asked, looking at her like a hurt puppy. Siobh laughed and shook her head, before she sat up and Harry joined her. He slowly began pointing out what he knew once he found them, pointing out Mars and Jupiter, along with the great bears Ursa Major and Minor. Siobh’s eyes narrowed at his point, brow furrowed in confusion as Ruadrí sighted the rest stop where they’d be spending the night. 

‘Some fella said how many years ago that was a bear!? And people believed him!?’ she guffawed, crossing her arms and shaking her head when Harry nodded, ‘Nah, I don’t believe you! Are people up there stupid enough to just believe everything they hear!?’

‘Siobh! Be respectful!’ Ruadrí cajoled, though he was chuckling at the same time.

‘I mean, what do you see, then?,’ his daughter asked haughtily. Ruadrí slowed the carriage down as he looked up at the night sky, more stars appearing by the minute as the Sun met the Moon with a clash of purple. Harry and Siobh waited for his wisdom quietly, and both leaned forward in anticipation when he turned away.

‘I see a frog’ Ruadrí said calmly.

‘A frog!? How in the world can you see a frog!?’ Siobh exclaimed, throwing her arms wide and barely missing Harry as she did.

‘The world can be whatever you make of it,’ her Father replied wistfully, ‘Think over that as you sleep tonight, we’re at the rest stop here now’

The rest stop was a wide, flat field of grass that already had a few other carts inside, covered over with tall white sheets. Harry could make out a small orange glow coming from some of them, probably lights, as Ruadrí paid a bored looking man who was standing guard at the gate. Once they had picked out a spot, Harry followed after Siobh and helped pull out a large frame, which she and her Father then affixed to the sides of the wagon. Once Ruadrí caused it to jump up with a couple clicks of his fingers, Siobh pulled out the cover from under the seats, turning to Harry eagerly.

‘This is the best part, I've seen kids doing it down in the village! Just go around the otherside there and I'll throw it over to you!’

Harry quickly figured out what she meant, watching as Siobh hurried around the otherside with the bundle in her hands. She rolled it out onto the ground, and began to spin herself around. Harry readied himself, eyes fixed to the top of the frame when Siobh finally let go. The cover flew over the top, draping downwards steadily. Harry bent his knees and leapt at it expectantly, however, the cover stopped just above his hand. Panicking, Harry might have face planted into the frame if not for Ruadrí’s quick intervention. With a couple of snaps, he'd caught him and brought Harry back down to the ground safely.

‘T-Thank you..!’

‘No bother,’ Ruadrí smiled, returning to tying up the horse, ‘Siobh! Come over and pull down the rest of the cover here! I need to take care of Toirneach..’

‘Ok!’ the girl answered eagerly, running around to Harry’s side. Pausing next to her friend, Siobh flexed her fingers, psyching herself up. All she had to do was grab a hold of the sheet with lightwork, and pull it down towards her and Harry. Simple. Super duper simple. Mobilising her confidence, Siobh held up her hand and clicked her fingers. The snap echoed around her head, but for maybe thirty seconds, nothing happened..until the edge of the sheet lifted slightly. Surprised and delighted with herself, Siobh pulled her arm down quickly..but the sheet didn’t respond. Instead, it began to sway slowly from side to side and Siobh felt the pit open up in her stomach as she looked towards Harry.

Harry had clicked his fingers quietly during that little delay. He didn’t realise he had gotten a hold of the sheet until he moved his hand about absentmindedly, and noticed it moved with him. Siobh became increasingly despondent, stepping away as Harry raised his hand slightly and jerked it downwards, pulling the cover into their reach. Bouncing on his heels, Harry looked happily back at Siobh, who nodded and gave him a strained smile. Quietly, she helped pull down the cover and pin it to the frame, after which she and Harry got back into the wagon. 

‘I w-wonder if Mum w-would like me d-doing magic..,’ Harry murmured dreamily as Siobh lit a candle in the centre of the cart. The girl shrugged, busy being consumed by her doubt and misery. Not being able to pull something with Lightwork was a new low point, even for her. It was something even the youngest Tuatha could do, and now it looked like the kid who hadn’t had any training at all was better than her-

Siobh stopped herself, shocked at how far the self-loathing had pulled her. Looking back at Harry, she saw him lying on his stomach, legs swaying in the air as he rolled a model car back and forth. He looked up at her and smiled, rolling over onto his back lazily. Feeling increasingly guilty for almost becoming angry at him, and knowing she needed some air, Siobh excused herself for a walk. Thankfully, Harry didn’t join her, tired and grabbing a blanket from underneath the seat to throw over himself.

‘Some fresh air?’ Ruadrí asked, a slight concern in his voice, ‘Sure, you’ve been getting fresh air all day! Is something wrong?’

‘No..just not tired yet I guess,’ Siobh shrugged, avoiding eye contact with her Father.

‘Right..well, be back in ten minutes. I want to see you both in the wagon before I nod off myself,’ he explained. Siobh nodded and wandered off, her Father listening to her click her fingers repeatedly as she did. She must have had a struggle with magic again, he reasoned, promising himself to ask her in private when they had the chance. Siobh’s emotions tended to lose the run of themselves if she was asked about it..

After a couple of minutes of clicking, Siobh managed to get a response from herself, her hand lighting up in a dull orange glow. She brought down her crook, and with a twirl of her hand was able to light up its centre, the light shifting to that of a pale white orb. It swung weakly as she walked, as she had tied it on a string. So far, this and the little portals were the most advanced magic she was capable of, and it didn’t help that they were on the first pages of the Druid’s handbook she had. Any attempts past that either hadn’t resulted in anything, or caused the spell to blow up in her face.

A breeze blew through, Siobh shivering slightly as she pulled her cloak tightly around herself. Something felt..off, and such a feeling unnerved Siobh greatly. The Tuatha de Danann took great pride in how safe their lands were, a safety maintained by their strong sense of honour and community justice. Siobh glanced around, wondering if anyone else felt this same sense of unease. Indeed, one or two of the wagons remained lit, the shadows of their occupants cast against the covers. Continuing along the edge of the field, Siobh tried to stifle her worries, trying to put them down to her doubts- 

A twig snapped nearby. Siobh spun to her left, heart in her throat as her crook cast a ghostly light over the area, she expected to see a hare or a fox, but what she saw instead terrified her.

A large man with messy black hair and a wild beard stood just a couple of metres away from her, his blue eyes glinting maliciously in the light. He was dressed in a brown tunic that seemed to be struggling to hold his waist, while the black trousers and large boots weren’t too dissimilar from what Ruadrí wore. Siobh’s eyes didn’t linger on them for long though, darting in terror to the sword slung around his waist. When Tadgh seemed to reach for it, she screamed, rushing back towards Harry and her Father.

‘MEN IN THE WOODS! MEN IN THE WOODS! ASSASSINS!’

Tadgh was shouldered over by the female Tuireann, who shot him a fowl scowl as she pulled her hood over her shoulders and drew her sword. For a moment, he thought she might be about to kill him, but instead the woman turned away and drew her sword, leaping from the treeline as a cry went out.

‘Strike while the iron is hot!!,’ the stumpy leader rasped and Tadgh scrambled to his feet as the Men of Tuireann leapt into action all around. Siobh’s screams had alerted the whole camp, tossing Ruadrí from his drowsiness and causing Harry to sit bolt upright in terror. Practically hyperventilating at the commotion outside, the wagon shook as Ruadrí jumped down next to it. Harry heard the horse gallop off at Ruadrí’s orders, shaking as the chaos grew louder. He hunched over, rocking back and forth with his hands over his ears. He tried desperately to convince himself that this was a nightmare, as Ruadrí’s voice cut in and the light next to him went out.

‘Harry! Stay here! Siobh and I will be back in a minute!’

Harry heard him rush off as the sound of swords clashing echoed around the field. Looking up and about frantically, Harry noticed the gap underneath the seat and squeezed himself under it, holding the model car close to his heaving chest. 

Just stay here..Just stay here..They will be back soon..

He wished he had his Mum and sister..

Outside, Siobh’s little legs were no match for the speed of the assassins, but they seemed to disregard her as they hurried off towards the rest of the camp, some on horseback. As Siobh coughed up the dirt being kicked in her face, a boot hit her hard in the back, sending her crashing to the ground. She barely managed to get out of its way as it slammed down next to her, where her head had just been..

Her eyes shot up towards the assassin, the moon obscured by their hooded head. She scrambled to her feet, but quickly realised she was being toyed with. The Assassin stomped down on her cloak, pulling it back and causing her to choke. Falling to one knee, Siobh gripped her crook and looked up to see others charging out of their wagons. The Assassins were certainly outnumbered, but it didn’t mean anyone was about to come to her rescue. This her opponent seemed to have realised, as a dark laugh emanated from somewhere underneath the hood. 

‘Stupid child..first to see, first to die..a pity..’ they sighed, as they brought the sword upwards. Feeling the seconds slip and her heart pounding in her chest, Siobh felt the adrenaline rush to her head and didn’t even register twirling her crook about. Wrenching herself to the right, she brought the top of it crashing into the assassin's knee, just above his boots. There was a grunt of pain, but it only seemed to hinder them a little. The Assassin drove their boot into the ground, choking Siobh further. She clawed at the knot joining her cloak, gasping for air, it seeming her killer was savouring the moment when-

Toirneach the horse thundered through the chaos, and Siobh threw herself to the side as the steed leapt at her attacker. The Assassin was too slow, and Toirneach’s head ploughed into his chest, his front hooves crushing the man's legs underneath. As this Tuireann crumpled against a cart, moaning in pain, the stallion spun around and a blow from its hind legs proved instant and deadly. 

Siobh witnessed none of this, feeling Toirneach nuzzle her as she watched the unfolding battle in horror. Shaking her head, she regained her senses and her thoughts immediately fell on Harry as she turned and pulled herself up onto Toireneach’s back. Steering him around the brawl, she saw the assassins start to scatter, though it wasn’t a retreat. They disappeared in between the carts, and soon flames started to engulf the sheets. Forcing herself to look away from the sight, Siobh’s attention fell onto a figure lumbering around the corner in front of her; the fat man she’d seen just minutes ago.

He certainly wasn’t an assassin, and Siobh was puzzled over what he was doing here. Was he hostage? The Men of Tuireann weren’t known for kidnappings..and they would hardly take someone like him on board as a recruit. Whatever he was doing, Siobh knew he was honourbound to help his kin fight off the assassins, and resolved to try and rouse his courage. She grabbed Toirneach’s reins and pulled them tightly, hopping off and sending the horse back off to battle. She hurried past a cart, and appeared in front of the man as he reached it. He skidded to a halt, evidently surprised by her appearance. 

‘What’re ya doing!?’ Siobh demanded in Irish, ‘We need all hands on deck to fight the assassins!’

‘You speak Irish?,’ the man asked in English, using the lull to peer inside the cart they were standing next to.

‘Of course I do!,’ Siobh shot back in her native tongue, adjusting her grip on her crook. She was fast realising that he wasn’t some coward trying to hide from the action, as the clash of swords rang out intermittently nearby.

‘You don’t look like someone who’d speak the language,’ the man shrugged, before he quickly drew his blade. Siobh stumbled back and threw her crook across herself in a defensive posture. The man growled, crouching down in front of her and pointing the sword towards her throat.

‘I don’t have time for this,’ he snarled, ‘I know you have my son, and you don’t step aside I’m going to have to hurt you,’ his tone one of pure ice. Siobh’s eyes went wide at the revelation and she took another step back, though Tadgh remained where he was. This man was Harry’s Father, the man who he had said through tears had hurt him and done so much more. Feeling her face flush with a hot anger, Siobh adjusted herself, gritting her teeth as she faced the monster down.

‘You’re worse than an assassin!’

‘LITTLE RAT! DON’T MAKE ME USE THIS!!’ Tadgh bellowed, jumping up as Harry froze in his hiding spot, his Father’s voice shooting through his head like a bullet. Immediately, he felt sick with fear, knowing who was facing his abuser as he tried desperately to get out from under his seat. However, his arm had become wedged under him thanks to the blanket, and he was powerless to move, even as he kicked about wildly, screaming at the top of his lungs.

‘SIOBH! SIOBH! SIOBH!’

Siobh looked back instinctively at the sound, and Tadgh used the opportunity to rush her, bashing her aside with one blow of his massive arm. Siobh, however, though winded, managed to reach over Tadgh’s arm with the crook, catching his legs in between it and causing him to tumble over face first into the mud. Once again, she felt the adrenaline take over as Tadgh pushed himself up and lunged at her, disregarding the sword as he howled with rage, momentarily distracted from Harry by this insolent little girl.

‘YOU BITCH-!!

He hadn’t even gotten the words out when Siobh smashed her crook into his face. Years of doing manual labour in place of magic on the farm had had one advantage, and it was that Siobh was impressively strong for her age. She carried through on her attack, heaving downwards as she felt the man's face shift under her blow. Tadgh lost his footing, and his head cracked off the side of the cart wheel, giving him a nasty head wound and knocking him unconscious. Siobh stumbled backwards onto her backside, astonished at her strength when another figure suddenly appeared in front of her. Immediately she noticed the high boots of the Assassin, and scrambled desperately to get away only for them to grab her-

‘CUNÚS!! CUNÚS!! LIG LEIS ANOIS-!!’

‘Uan! Uan! Mise atá ann!’ 

Siobh gasped, absorbing her Father’s voice as he hurried back towards the cart with her, wrapping his arms around her. Siobh felt the flat steel of his sword against her shoulder, looking out wearily to see that the fires had been extinguished, and the assassins seemingly chased off. In fact, she saw one hurry towards Harry’s father on horseback. The brute was still unconscious, and the assassin was able to haul him up onto the horse's back before it leapt back into the treeline. Several figures followed after it, shouting angrily. That was the last Siobh saw, as Ruadrí pushed her through the cover into the cart.

‘SIOBH!?’

‘It’s us Harry don’t worry!,’ Ruadrí gasped, climbing in after his daughter. After a bit of effort, he managed to pull Harry free of his hiding spot, after which the boy immediately flung himself at Siobh, pulling her into a tight hug. Exhausted, she just patted him on the back, eyes closed as she took deep, deep breaths. Ruadrí poured them both a glass of water, and after some swigs Siobh felt she was ready to explain.

‘In-In the trees..something snapped a-and I saw this h-huge fat guy..then they a-all leapt out and I ran off screaming..’

‘You’re a hero, Siobh,’ Ruadrí explained, his frown twitching upwards into a smile, ‘You interrupted their attack..things could have been much, much worse without you. I know you were off kicking yourself over magic again, and know that I’m incredibly proud of you no matter what’ 

‘Thanks Dad..,’ Siobh sniffled, pulling her legs up to her chest.

‘M-My Dad..he was o-out there..I h-heard him!!,’ Harry sobbed, pulling his hair, ‘H-He’s out to g-get me!! H-He wants to-to hurt me!!’

‘I took care of that,’ Siobh stiffly, ‘Gave him a test of his own medicine at least,’ she explained, nudging her crook with her foot. Harry's eyes went wide when he saw that it was spattered with blood, which Ruadrí picked up to study. The bend at the top had a long crack going down it now, and considering it had been enchanted for extra durability, Siobh must have given the man a savage beating.

‘Your father would be stupid to try and come at us again,’ he remarked, placing the crook back down. Harry nodded slowly, as a voice called out from the back of the cart. Ruadrí got out to talk to the stranger, as Harry and Siobh shifted closer together, taking a hold of each other's hand. 

‘Are you ok?’ Harry asked. Siobh passed a hand through her fringe and nodded, squeezing his hand a little.

‘Yeah..Dad was right I-I was beating myself up about magic..,’ she explained quietly, ‘..But maybe it’s not so bad now, since it saved our hides from the Men of Tuireann..’

Harry said nothing, as Ruadrí finished his conversation outside and climbed back in. Behind him, Toirneach the horse poked his head through the opening, studying the children with big sad eyes.

‘That was the groundsman, we’re going to move the carts in a circle for the night,’ Ruadrí explained. Harry and Siobh nodded slowly, and Harry thought he could hear the sound of groaning nearby as Ruadrí hopped back out and the cart slowly trundled off. Once her Father had returned and set up his bed next to them, Siobh knew she couldn’t ignore the sheep chewing the carpet, as the Tuatha de Danann said.

‘Dad..was anyone hurt?’

‘Yes, I’m afraid some were,’ Ruadrí said calmly, staring up at the white covering above them, ‘But none seriously, just some cuts to the arms and whatnot,’ he assured, tousling Siobh’s hair. The girl nodded, and after a few minutes she slowly drifted off to sleep. Ruadrí saw that Harry was less content though, his Father’s return obviously having shaken him up a great deal. The boy was lying flat on his back, eyes almost glazed over as he took quick, rapid breaths.

‘Harry,’ Ruadrí interrupted quietly, breaking him out of the trance, ‘What happened today was a once off, alright? The road ahead..I know you think it’ll be a lot more dangerous now, but it’s the last time things will get that hairy, I promise’

Harry continued to stare up at the roof quietly, as the sound of raindrops tapped lightly against the fabric. He still hadn’t been entirely sure of Ruadrí even after the trip had started, but now, having seen him go to battle for him, Harry felt he could trust him. Not enough to talk to him like he talked to Siobh, but enough for him to roll over and give Ruadrí a smile. Ruadrí returned it, getting the message, and after a few minutes Harry was settled enough to drift off to sleep.

With both children settled, Ruadrí yawned and began to nod off. His thoughts lingered on Harry’s Father. He was a prime recruit for the Men of Tuireann, powerful and corrupted with a vicious anger. If the assassins were able to get him into shape, Ruadrí would be a great deal more worried than he was now. However, such a thing would take time, time that would allow them to get Harry home safely. That was, Ruadrí hoped, there was a home for him to go to. After seeing what sort of man his Father was..there might not be a Mother out there..

Chapter Text

‘Hurry up Hilda! The ferry will be leaving soon!,’ Johanna urged as she packed a few maps into her handbag and rolled her suitcase over to the door. Hilda came running downstairs from the bathroom, attempting to pull on her jumper and one of her boots at the same time. Naturally, she tripped, and Hilda braced for impact..and suddenly felt herself stop. Opening one eye, she saw her Mum standing there, hand outstretched and shaking. Johanna’s eyes were scrunched shut as she slowly brought Hilda down the stairs, until she opened them with a gasp. Hilda fell the rest of the way, but landed harmlessly at the bottom of the stairs.

‘I didn’t know you could move people with magic!,’ Hilda grinned, pulling on her boot and hurrying to her room to grab her things, along with Alfur and Twig. Johanna nursed her hand as she did, which was buzzing with an intense sensation of pins and needles. 

‘Of course you can move people with magic,’ she explained as Hilda came running back out, ‘But witches usually just prefer to summon books and their ingredients, people don’t really like being pulled around all of a sudden, as you can imagine!’

Herself and Hilda both paused at the door, taking in the flat. The path once they got to Ireland was murky, to say the least. What would it be like once they got to the Overworld? Would they even be able to find Harry? And if so, would he even want to come with them? This was mainly Johanna’s concern, but she wasn’t going to let that worry stop her now.

‘Well..this is it..,’ Johanna sighed, taking a hold of Hilda’s hand, ‘I trust you’ll be able to look after yourself, Tontu?,’ she called out, and the house spirit hopped out between the gap in the fridge and nodded wholeheartedly.

‘Don’t you guys worry, not like I’m gonna be throwing parties or anything..I can try and grab a bed from somewhere for when you come back, if you want, I’ve been sniffing around and found a backway into the nowhere space downstairs..’

‘..You don’t need to do that, I want Harry to pick out his own bed,’ Johanna explained, Hilda giving the Nisse a hug goodbye before they went out the door. Tontu lingered there alone for a moment, going over his thoughts. A part of him felt that the apartment was kind of at capacity, but at the same time he knew opposing Harry’s return would probably result in a one way exit. Eventually, he hopped back into Nowhere Space, as Hilda spoke to her Mum at the top of the stairs.

‘Could you catch me if I jumped down?,’ She asked giddily, but Johanna simply smiled and shook her head, still feeling worn out from the potion experience yesterday. They’d spent the night in Astrid’s, before getting the early morning train back to Trollberg. She’d been up half the night too, going through Astrid’s books about fairies and learning from her Aunt everything she knew about the Tuatha de Danann. She seemed to be incredibly knowledgeable on the subject..

‘I hope I’ve brought enough ink for this..,’ Alfur murmured from within Hilda’s fringe, ‘If we really end up going to a whole new world to find your brother, elf kind needs to know every little detail!’

‘Not every detail I hope Alfur..,’ Johanna murmured as they stepped out and she shut the door behind them, ‘Hilda and I are entitled to our privacy you know!’

‘Oh of course not!,’ the elf assured, ‘Bend my quill and hope to die, I promise! Just..I haven’t heard what the plan is exactly..?,’ he asked nervously, this obviously triggering the elf need to have everything hyper-organised to the tiniest detail. Hilda caught her Mum’s eye in the rearview mirror, wanting to know as well, and Johanna bit her lip. She hadn’t exactly had the time to think of something too detailed. Astrid had basically said they needed to find an old tomb that the Tuatha de Danann used, sit down and wait.

‘There’s ways to get their attention, I imagine..but I don’t know any of them. I’m sure they come up time and again looking for things, and once they see you they’ll be incredibly hospitable, you should have no problem getting Harry home’

‘How does Astrid know all this stuff anyway?,’ Hilda asked the car ceiling as she stroked Twig absentmindedly. Again, Johanna bit her lip. Astrid had been her one living family member for years, being a key pillar of support after Harry was taken, but yet Johanna always felt she had never truly known her. She pushed those thoughts from her mind, as they pulled up to the port. The drive hadn’t taken that due to most people being on holidays.

‘Us one day, I promise..,’ Johanna said quietly to herself, parking the car. Despite her urgency earlier, the ferry wasn’t ready yet, still to lower its ramp and allow cars out and in. Resting on the steering wheel, she looked around for Kaisa and Tildy. They had said they’d be here, having been doing research of their own, but so far they were nowhere to be seen. That was, until Hilda opened the back door excitedly.

‘David! Frida! Over here!’ she called. Her friends came hurrying over, and Johanna was surprised to see that Kaisa and Tildy weren’t them. Knowing something serious would have to happen for them to be late, Johanna worried that the Committee of Three had intervened. She had dealt with them years ago, during her break after the duel. They had come across as pushy, barely accepting of the idea that she had to rest and manage two toddlers on the side too.

‘I knew we’d catch you!,’ David grinned, getting inside, ‘Frida wanted to be down here at the crack of dawn!’

‘Because this is important!,’ Frida exclaimed, clambering in beside him, ‘We need to tell Hilda everything we’ve researched!’

‘You’ve been doing research?,’ Johanna said, raising one eyebrow and looking around at them. David and Frida blinked once or twice, obviously not used to having her be in the same room when they were talking about these sorts of things. Hilda nudged them awkwardly, giving her Mum a guilty grin. The Trio would have to get used to this new reality sooner rather than later.

‘Uh..yes! Loads!,’ Frida nodded, taking out a journal, ‘David’s Dad is a bit of a myth buff, so he has all these books that we could take notes from! Plus, David had this incredible story too! We think it might help you get in touch with the Tuatha de Danann!’

‘Really?,’ Johanna asked, turning in her chair, ‘All Astrid could do was to tell us to sit at one of the old tombs dotted around Ireland..did your Father know how to get their attention, David?’

‘Not exactly..but he thinks he knows most of it!,’ David explained eagerly, glad to be contributing, ‘When I was young, my family went on holidays to Ireland and we went to visit this place called Newgrange! My Dad got a bit obsessed with all the myth stuff..especially when the tour guide told him about these offerings they do…’

…It was late, way past his bedtime and quite cold as well despite it being April. The clouds above were dark, threatening rain for the entire time they’d been here. Sheltered in his Father’s coat, he cast another bored look over to the monument. Newgrange they called it, and his father had been buzzing about a sort of ceremony that was to take place. He and his Mum hadn’t bought into it as much as he had, but his Father had convinced him to come along. Mum had let them go, only making him promise they'll be back before midnight. 

They had probably been here for an hour now, and he’d nodded off time and again in his Father’s jacket. He wasn’t totally hating it, it was nice spending time with his Dad and he feared nothing knowing that he was here to keep him safe from the dark. What he didn’t like was when he kept waking him up by mistake.

‘David! David! I think something might happen!’

‘Huh? Where..?’

‘Oh, wait..never mind,’ he said sheepishly, and with a grumble the boy would go back to sleep. 

That was what he expected as his Father shook him awake again. However, this time he said nothing, staring straight ahead and nodding towards the monument. Peering through the bushes, he saw a cluster of people around the entrance, tall, squat, young and old. Some ambled around in the dark, while others studied offerings left by tourists during the day. Not entirely believing what he was seeing, he looked up at his Father.

‘..Surely i-it’s just workers taking the stuff away’ he murmured, but the man chuckled and shook his head, glancing at his watch.

‘Not at this time, lad. Why would they all be wearing cloaks with their hoods up then?’

‘Maybe they’re acting-,’ he began, before his Father put a hand over his mouth to silence him. One of the figures had wandered well away from the group, holding a box of treats that had been left out. A short thing, it set the box down and looked around, before it began to tuck into the contents greedily. It was obviously a child, and he felt his father pinch his cheek.

‘Like you, eh?,’ he whispered, as they watched the mite chew loudly on a bar of chocolate before it stopped at a man's voice, and then a woman’s. Looking over, they saw a figure dart around the crowd anxiously, before they saw the chocolate thief and hurried towards them. They remained quiet as the child froze, and then bolted towards them unknowingly. His Father pulled back frantically, huddling next to a tree as he ducked into his coat in fright.

Peeking through, he watched as the child barged through, dropping the chocolate bar. They immediately turned to grab it, but it was enough time for their pursuer, a woman, to catch up. Short and thin, she scooped the toddler up off the ground, who fussed as she did. Taking the box, she turned to leave, gaze passing over them. He felt his Father tense and time slow, but she seemed to miss them..before she paused, looked back and froze.

His Father remained still, staring up at her and eventually he just couldn’t bear to hide in the coat anymore. He scooched closer, and the woman flinched at his movement. His Father brought a calming arm around him, and her expression softened. With a small smile, she put a finger to her lips, before she strode back through the bushes as a man called out somewhere. They watched for a moment, before his Father exhaled and he stood up.

‘Right..I think that’s enough of that!’

Back in the present, David finished telling his tale to the rapt attention of the others. Once he was finished, Hilda gave him a friendly dig in the arm, grinning from ear to ear.

‘That’s amazing David! All the stuff we’ve been through and you’ve kept that to yourself!’

‘Cause Dad said that the Fairies w-would come and take us away if we told anyone! Seemed pretty convinced about it too..I had to get Mum’s help to convince him so he could fill in some of the bits I’d forgotten..’

‘You’ve done a service to us, David!,’ Johanna smiled, ‘I was worried Hilda and I would be stuck standing around some random tomb waiting for them to appear, but you’ve pointed us in the right direction!’

David grinned happily, glad he was being of assistance after feeling like the odd one out, when a knock came on the window. It was Kaisa, and she looked like she’d been up all night. Slightly alarmed, Johanna reached over and opened the passenger door, her old friend exhaling as she flopped down next to them. With a wave of her hands, she opened up a void and pulled out a small stack of books before she looked at Johanna tiredly.

‘Well..how much time do you have before you go?’

‘Looks like they’re only opening the ramp now..,’ Johanna muttered, drumming her fingers on the wheel impatiently, ‘What took you so long? Where’s Tildy?’ she asked worriedly.

‘I told her to go to bed,’ Kaisa yawned, ‘..Don’t ask me how I did it, I’m surprised I was able to convince her too. But to cut a long long story short..all of what we witches know about the Tuatha de Danann is sealed by the Committee. One quest here..riddles three there..eventually we got access to just..THIS!,’ Kaisa exclaimed, holding up one of the books ‘This was all of it!!’

‘Goodness..Kaisa..neither you didn’t have to-!’

‘ `Anna, don’t even start..,’ Kaisa muttered, before she flashed her a smile, ‘You and Hildy deserve this, honestly!,’ she exclaimed, giving Hilda a wink, ‘Anyway..we learned the best place to find the Tuatha is at this grand tomb called Newgrange-’

‘-Oh..!,’ Johanna cut in awkwardly, ‘I hate to rain on your parade, Kai, but..David just told us that!’ she explained, with David nodding sheepishly behind her. Kaisa mouthed some words before she shifted around, flicking through the pages of the book and muttering to herself.

‘Alright..did you already know they appreciate offerings?’

‘Yeah..’

‘And that they collect them during the night?’

‘..Sorry!’

‘What’s their favourite treat then-!?’

‘-Chocolate..?,’ Frida replied, grinning nervously. Kaisa closed her eyes and took breath, drumming her fingers on the books before she pushed them away back into the void. She smiled at the group, before she looked back to Johanna.

‘ `Anna..I’m just going to catch some air..’

‘Of course, take your time!,’ Johanna urged, and they watched as Kaisa silently opened the door and stepped outside. She walked off in a straight line, stopped and then looked up towards the sky. Her eyes wide, Kaisa’s mouth opened in silent scream for a solid minute. The Trio looked more than a little unnerved, but Johanna knew all about it, especially from her time in design school. She remembered pouring her heart into a project, and doing extremely well on it, only to be told that she’d worked too hard at it. Like Kaisa, she’d just screamed silently, several hours of her life wasted..

Kaisa got back inside and let out a long, drawn out sigh, resting her head in her hands. Johanna rubbed her shoulder to console, while David and Frida glanced at each other guiltily. Neither of them wanted to tell Kaisa they’d gotten their information straight from David's Dad’s dusty bookshelf.

‘Surely there was more than that?,’ Johanna suggested softly, ‘What about their customs? Or their society?’ she asked. Kaisa lay back in her seat and shook her head, sighing once again.

‘Nothing, those secrets are in the Otherworld. All we know is that they’re incredibly hospitable..’

‘A good change from the stone forest at least!,’ Johanna grinned at Hilda, while almost accidentally telling Kaisa that Astrid had already told her all of this already. At that, a man came up to the window to check their tickets and tell them to get ready to board. Kaisa hugged Johanna goodbye, as did David and Frida with Hilda. 

‘I know you’ll find him,’ Kaisa grinned, ‘Keep in touch, ok? If you need help, please `Anna, let Tildy and I know..,’ holding both of Johanna’s hands in her own. She nodded, determined not to break Kaisa’s heart or abandon her friends ever again.

‘I promise’

‘Stay safe!,’ Frida told Hilda worriedly as she and David got out of the car. Hilda smiled, waving her off casually, but Frida fixed her with a hard stare.

‘I mean it Hilda..you and your Mum and going to a whole other world!’

‘She’ll be fine Frida!,’ David assured, giving Hilda a wink, ‘We’ve gotten through everything so far, right?’

‘I suppose..,’ Frida murmured, ‘..Kaisa’s right, we know you’ll find him!’

‘Don’t have too much fun without me!,’ Hilda grinned, wiping a tear from her eye, ‘You’re gonna be the best friends Harry could ask for, just like me!’

Johanna began to pull off, and Hilda waved her friends goodbye the whole way, moving from the side to the back window as they drove up the ramps. David, Frida and Kaisa waited another while, Hilda appearing at the back as the ferry moved off, munching on a sandwich and giving them one last wave goodbye. Johanna joined her, feeling like her arm would fall off at this point. Finally, the ferry disappeared over the horizon, though it still took Kaisa a bit of effort to move David and Frida along. Even as they walked away, she still found herself looking over her shoulder, over the sea and far away..

Chapter Text

Dublin was unlike any place Hilda had ever been to. In stark contrast to Trollberg, it was loud, crowded and far more dirty. She and her Mum were going to grab some snacks before heading to Newgrange, and Alfur had had to duck into Hilda’s hair at the sight of the seagulls, bigger than Hilda’s head and tearing open a bag of rubbish. Going up to the supermarket, they’d been followed by a gang of kids snickering loudly at her hair, and once they were there a man had come up looking for money. Johanna had kindly given him some, for which she’d gotten a slurred thank you before he’d stumbled back outside. 

The way back had been more peaceful, thankfully. What had stood out was an ancient, sinister grey building, which the signs claimed was a University despite the tourists swarming around its entrance. Hilda had looked up at its windows, and caught a glimpse of a student visibly sobbing within. When she paused briefly in sympathy, the person noticed and immediately gave her a wide, forced smile with two thumbs up. Hilda moved on at her Mum’s call, but Alfur noticed the student immediately break down again. 

‘That was..an experience,’ Hilda said as they drove out onto the motorway. Johanna nodded, focused on the road ahead of them.

‘That’s how the world is I’m afraid, Hilda. Trollberg has problems too, but we’re lucky they seem to try and manage them at least!’

To Hilda’s surprise and Alfur’s lament, the drive to Newgrange didn’t take that long at all, only about thirty five minutes. As the Elf bemoaned the lack of time he had to get his notes in order, Hilda looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of Newgrange. There were pictures nearby, and it looked massive, but to her surprise it was nowhere to be seen. 

‘Hilda, why don’t you set up a picnic in the boot there?,’ Johanna suggested, ‘I’ll go and look into getting some tickets in the meantime, alright?’

‘Not a problem!,’ Hilda gleed, opening the rucksack they’d brought for food. She soon had a wholesome little set-up going, having pushed down the backseats to sit with the Sun pouring in on her and Twig. The Deerfox lapped up some water happily, and Hilda pushed him over a small sandwich she made too. Alfur took notes silently in her shadow, Hilda catching a glimpse of the words “Oldgrange??” circled in red ink. She found herself content, feeling confident they could even be going home with Harry by day's end. That confidence proved misplaced, however, as Johanna returned looking despondent. 

‘What’s wrong?,’ Hilda asked anxiously, pushing over the sandwich she’d made for her.

‘Well, to put it simply..we can’t get in..,’ Johanna murmured, ‘They’re booked out for this week, next week and the whole week after too. And if that wasn’t enough, the receptionist had this horrible smile on her face the entire time! It was like she enjoyed telling me!’

‘But that’s not the end, is it?,’ Hilda whispered, gripping her sandwich. As expected, Johanna firmly shook her head, looking out to the green horizon stretched out before them.

‘Of course it isn’t, but that said we’ll have to be careful, because we’re getting to the Otherworld by any means necessary!,’ she exclaimed, though keeping her voice low as she tucked into her sandwich. The next couple of hours were spent pouring over the maps Johanna had brought with her, fingers being traced across paper as Mother and daughter searched for a route that would take them close to the monument. Finally, they found something, but as Johanna used Alfur’s quill to draw the route, a young woman poked her head around the corner of the open boot.

She wore a short sleeved white shirt and tie with brown trousers, and was pale with pixie cut hazelnut hair. She paused at the sight of them, both at Hilda’s blue hue and because she likely recognised Johanna, who’s eyes flashed with an annoyed recognition when she looked up. 

‘Sorry guys, but the centre is closing now!,’ she chirped, looking at her watch. Johanna glanced at hers as well. It was only half four, but she wasn’t in the mood to argue with the receptionist. After all, they’d found a way to Newgrange already, and Johanna nodded for Hilda to begin packing things up. The woman clicked her heels and left, still with that persistent smile on her face. Johanna’s eyes lingered on her as she went, unable to shake the feeling that something was off about her, before she joined in helping Hilda putting everything away.

____________________________________________

They didn’t set off right away to Newgrange, instead resuming their picnic in the much less scenic car park of a nearby supermarket. Hilda felt the hours drag by, but finally she saw her Mum glance at her watch before giving her a nod and a smile.

‘Time to get going!,’ she grinned, and Hilda had her side of the car packed away in a flash. It was now about half six, and while they had been waiting Johanna had also done what any good Witch was good at: reading. She’d picked up a small book from the gift shop, one that went over the old Celtic seasons. According to it, they were at the tail end of the Summer celebrations. Johanna was taking it with a grain of salt, since she’d gotten it in a tourist shop, but she wasn’t going to let little things like proper sources get in the way. 

The first hiccup came when Hilda was confronted by her biggest weakness: car sickness. One glance at the route and she had to have the air-con on for five minutes, something the old banger they were in wasn’t exactly equipped for. It fell to Alfur to follow the route, and thankfully there was probably no one better. He confidently steered them in the right direction, and soon Johanna turned down a small little local road, just wide enough for two cars. 

‘This bouncing isn’t good for me..,’ Hilda groaned, now able to have the window open as the car toughed its way down the lane. She managed to keep her lunch down though, while her Mum carefully navigated the bends while trying not to push the car too much. After all, if things went well, it would be bringing Harry home sooner or later.

‘X marks the spot up here!,’ Alfur exclaimed excitedly, and Hilda looked out to see a green bend just ahead of them, two rusted gates leading into the adjoining fields. After a bit of manoeuvring, Johanna got the car parked and paused for a moment. Hilda watched, unsure if her Mum was making sure they were in the right spot or if she was just steeling her nerves. Finally, Johanna grabbed her bag from the front seat and got out, Hilda following suit with Twig. The Sun had started to dip now, and from what David told them they still had some time before the Tutaha de Danann emerged. Still, Hilda preferred waiting here in nature rather than some grey car park, as their eyes finally fell on Newgrange.

‘The pictures don’t do it justice..,’ Johanna breathed as they approached, making their way through the middle of a field. The back of the immense monument was covered in grass, reminding Hilda a little of how Tontu lifted the carpet whenever he came out of the nowhere space. As they drew closer, they stiffened the little at the sound of voices, obviously the last of the tourists who were being bussed out. Johanna led them to the corner of the field they were in, hiding under the shade of the trees there. As Alfur sketched away in the silence, Hilda wondered where David and his Dad had hidden; there was very little tree cover all around.

Johanna meanwhile studied a gap in the hedge behind them with some anxiety. Judging by the tracks, a tractor had been through here a few times. Fine, she thought, if a farmer chased them off they’d just come back later when no one was around. However, the lack of sounds from any livestock hopefully meant they were fine, as she settled into gazing at Newgrange with Hilda. 

‘I wonder how old it is..,’ her daughter murmured, the minutes again back to going at snail's pace. Johanna put a hand on her back, also thinking the same thing. She’d caught a glimpse of it in the heritage centre, but she’d been too focused on finding someone to speak to.

‘Thousands of years anyway,’ Johanna yawned, tired with the early start, the travelling and the focus on breaking into an ancient tomb after hours. Retrieving her flask of coffee, she sipped it, nursing her shoulder as she did. She was barely forty, but Johanna certainly felt that looking after Hilda had had its effects. Not that she would have it any other way, patting her daughter’s hair as the girl rested her head on her hands. Hilda’s mind was alive with wonder at the history, and adventures, that this place must have seen.

Seven turned to eight, eight to a quarter past nine and finally a quarter past nine to half ten. Hilda had dozed off an hour ago, and Johanna had let her guard down as well, it being obvious no farmer was going to interrupt them. Having transferred Alfur from Hilda’s head to hers, she and the elf talked as the darkness slowly grew around them.

‘I was just thinking about how lucky I am..,’ Alfur murmured, his non-existent hands too tired to continue writing. Johanna frowned as she sipped a little more of her flask. In what felt like years ago, Alfur had hinted at some sort of past, but had refused to get into it before Hilda had barrelled in from her tortuous Father’s Day. 

‘Alfur..you told me you could sympathise with Hilda, during Father’s day. Do you remember?’

‘Ah! Um..yes..yes I do..,’ Alfur murmured, ‘But that’s not something to get into here, Johanna..it really isn’t,’ he muttered, his tone becoming grim sounding. 

‘Alfur, I don’t want anyone in this family dealing with more hurt than they need to,’ Johanna pressed gently, ‘I know all about it, I don’t want you to be hurting the same way I was!’

‘I..I appreciate that Johanna..I r-really do but..but I can’t..I can’t!,’ the elf sniffed, ‘Just know that you and Hilda are my family and that’s what matters!’

But Johanna could tell that Alfur’s wall was weaker than hers. One more gentle push probably would have broken through, only to be interrupted by Twig jumping from his sleep suddenly. The Deerfox let out a long, low growl, quiet enough to not wake Hilda but enough to alert Alfur and Johanna. She rolled over onto her back and took her wand from her pocket, pointing it towards dark like a sabre. She wasn’t really sure what she could do with it, she hadn’t fired a spell in a decade, but Johanna put faith in her abilities. Twig stopped growling for a second as the thoughts flowed through her, then ran snarling at a figure that stepped out from the shadows. Hilda shot awake, while Johanna leapt to her feet, arm stiff with anticipation-

There was a snap of the fingers, and Twig was sent tumbling over backwards. The figure stepped closer and Johanna saw the face of Tadgh leer out from the shadows. She didn’t even register what happened next, but the wand went off like a gun and a blue blast struck her ex in the shoulder. Her ears ringing, Johanna saw Hilda jump to her feet and had her daughter’s arm in a vice grip in an instant.

‘Get away from him, Hilda!,’ she ordered, ‘ Hilda! LISTEN! GET AWAY-!’

‘-Mum!? Mum! It’s a woman, not a man!’

‘What are you-!?’

A groan cut her off. It was obviously a woman like Hilda had said, though she still pulled her daughter back as Twig got up, shaking but seemingly unaffected by whatever had repulsed him. Johanna approached cautiously, flicking her wand and holding it out as a pale blue light revealed a woman splayed out in front of her. Johanna recognised her face instantly, as with another groan the woman managed to sit up, holding her shoulder as she did.

‘Hey! You’re the receptionist!,’ Hilda exclaimed, grabbing her beret up off the ground. The woman nodded slowly, and looked up at Johanna with that ever present smile. Johanna somehow felt even more put off by it; she’d just struck her in the shoulder with an emotionally charged spell. Being hit there normally was pretty hard to shake off, so Johanna was surprised she seemed to be holding it together pretty well.

‘Ha..yeah, that’s me..,’ she murmured, ‘I’m on my night shift, making sure no one’s trying to get in through the back or trying to dig up buried treasure or whatever..,’ as Johanna stuck out an awkward hand and helped her to her feet. Hilda picked up Twig, who seemed fine if still a little jittery.

‘What did you do to Twig..?’

She’s Tuatha de Danann..,’ Johanna explained before the woman could open her mouth, ‘My partner was one of you. If you give us time, I can explain everything you need to know!’

‘Oh! I see..that’s a lot of information to soak up all at once..,’ the woman murmured, ‘I’ll hear you out, but we best start with introductions first. I’m Clodagh, and I’m happy to be your guide today-!’

She stopped herself and shook her head. With a click of her fingers, an orange light engulfed her and replaced her work clothes with something more typical. Like Siobh, she wore a woollen cloak, though this one was grey with a white broach, along with some nondescript clothes as well. 

‘Sorry, went into tourist mode there..so, what are your names?,’ Clodagh asked, still holding her shoulder and looking from Johanna to Hilda curiously. Twig obviously held a grudge, and growled slightly when Clodagh’s eyes settled on Hilda’s hair.

‘I’m Johanna and this is my daughter Hilda,’ Johanna said, still keeping a distance and beckoning Hilda over to her side, ‘My partner..he was Tuatha de Danann like you, and about t-ten years ago now..he k-kidnapped my son. H-He took him down to your world, to the otherworld..’

Clodagh remained quiet as she spoke, the emotion building on her face as she listened. Once Johanna was done, she wiped her eyes and nodded, jerking her head towards Newgrange, which now looked much sinister in the darkness. Johanna didn’t move though, finding it odd that she was just buying what she had said right off the bat. 

‘Just like that?’ she asked, and Clodagh nodded confidently, spinning her arm in circles as she did.

‘Of course, we’re able to tell when someone is being honest or dishonest..and you’re honest, Johanna. I..I almost find it hard to believe, I’ve never heard of someone doing something so..so dishonourable..not from this day and age anyway..,’ Clodagh explained as they hurried towards Newgrange. Hilda felt it looked much more sinister in the dark, as the bush surrounding it parted to allow Clodagh pass. Not Hilda and Johanna though, who were caught in the brambles halfway through. 

‘Eek! Sorry about that!,’ Clodgah exclaimed, clicking her fingers and allowing them to stumble through, ‘The bush has a mind of its own, ya see, won’t let anyone except us pass through it unless we give the say so!’

‘Why..Why are you guarding this place?,’ Hilda huffed ‘Just so..so people don’t slip through to the..the Otherworld?,’ as they paused at the back of the monument. Set into the back was a truly ancient stone, with all sorts of mysterious symbols carved onto its rugged grey surface. Clodagh shrugged and nodded at her question, before she looked up at Newgrange admirably.

‘That’s about the length and breadth of it alright, but taking the mick out of tourists is fun too!,’ she laughed, though Johanna’s expression hardened at this, ‘Besides, it’s an honour to look after Newgrange, even if that’s not what our ancestors called it..countless generations have worshipped them, from both worlds. It will probably see countless more after we’re all dead and gone..,’ she murmured, gazing up at the monument in reverence.

‘Them?,’ Johanna asked, astonished, ‘You mean..it’s alive?’

‘In my opinion at least, you don’t get that much people praying to something without it becoming a little bit alive,’ Clodagh smiled, ‘Besides, you have to ask Newgrange permission to travel to the other side anyway,’ she explained, before placing a hand on the carved rock and closing her eyes. After a moment, she muttered to herself in Irish.

‘Sí an Bhrú..Sí an Bhrú..deonaigh iontráil dúinn sa domhan nua..’

Clodagh stepped back, and Hilda felt the ground shake under her feet. Holding her Mum’s hand, she saw the dirt begin to fall inwards in front of the stone, and they had to step back as a hole appeared in the ground, just big enough to fit a person. Clodagh turned to Johanna, as Hilda looked over the edge with a bit of trepidation. She was no stranger to leaping off heights, but that was only if she could see what was at the bottom. This time there was nothing but a deep abyss.

‘You know magic,’ she heard Clodagh say, ‘Do you know anything about the world below us?’

‘Only your hospitality and about your offerings,’ Johanna explained, before Clodagh spied Hilda approaching with a chocolate bar in hand. She smiled but shook her head, much to the girl's surprise.

‘I get enough chocolate up here!,’ she laughed, ‘But I know a few people who will appreciate it down there. Come, it’s time we find your son, just keep your arms to your side and jump in, I promise you’ll be alright!,’ she grinned, before she hopped inside the hole. The darkness swallowed her, and Hilda and Johanna hesitated briefly up at the top. Finally, Hilda took her Mum’s hand.

‘For Harry,’ Hilda said firmly.

‘For Harry,’ Johanna nodded, and she went first, disappearing into the void. Holding Twig close and being thankful she’d filed down his antlers a couple days ago, Hilda followed suit. Immediately, she felt her ears go numb as the air rushed past and the blackness engulfed her entirely as the entrance above closed. Eyes watering at her speed, Hilda tried to look over Twig to see what awaited her, but only saw the void descending endlessly below. There was no sign of her Mum or Clodagh, but just as her worry began to creep in, Hilda heard their distant voices.

‘...you’re certain?’

‘...Of course…any minute now…’

A light blinded her suddenly and Hilda felt her back hit the dirt, tumbling out into a wide green clearing with a gasp. Letting a squirming Twig go, Hilda remained on one knee as she looked around. The grove they were in was spectacular, identical to the one Harry had fallen into with beautiful vibrant flowers and the lushest grass Hilda had ever seen. This time though, there was no white light waiting for them. Instead, Clodgah led them down a beaten path and parted a thick set of vines that hung in their way, finally revealing the Otherworld in all its glory.

Hilda and Johanna stood agog at the sight of the vast town before them, a place much bigger and much more opulent than Siobh’s sleepy little village. From the hill they stood on, Johanna and Hilda could see well over a hundred homes each, orange light bursting from each of their windows, all gathered around a simply massive tree in the centre.  Clodagh led them down silently into the hustle and bustle of people drinking and children running through the streets laughing. Hilda felt herself drooling at the smells drifting through open windows, and as they followed Clodagh down the narrow streets, she felt someone take her by the hand.

She turned and saw it was a child, probably younger than she was. They pointed eagerly towards another group of children, kicking a ball to each other nearby.

‘Imirt linn!,’ they gleed, and it hurt Hilda a little to shake her head and nod towards her Mum, who had stopped to look back at her. The child seemed to understand and didn’t seem the least bit upset either, instead returning back to their group who were eying Hilda curiously.

‘Children are all for games down here,’ Clodagh explained, ‘It’s hard to get them to work in the fields as they get older,’ a casual remark that had Hilda and Johanna giving each other sideways glances. They were away from hubbub now, and after travelling down a street even narrower than the first, Clodagh stopped them at a tall, narrow brick house. She opened the door with a creak, and with a click of her fingers lit up the hall before them. It was only when the warmth hit Hilda in the face on stepping inside that she realised how cold it had been out there.

‘Mum! We’re home!,’ Clodagh called out, striding down the hallway as her guests followed awkwardly. Johanna could make out the sounds of dinner time chaos, a Mother belatedly trying to rein in her childrens bad table manners as they talked over her without a care in the world. She stopped Hilda and tidied her hair, as Clodagh cracked open the door and spoke in hushed tones to someone on the other end. After a moment, the chaos stopped with a shrap hush and a beleaguered woman stepped out into the hall. She smiled tiredly, but whispered to Clodagh sternly.

‘Tóg iad thuas staighre, beidh mé suas i gceann nóiméid..,’ she explained, before returning inside. Clodagh jerked her head for Johanna and Hilda to follow up the stairs, which were right next to the door. 

‘I hope we’re not intruding..,’ Johanna murmured, ‘Is there a hotel we could go to instead?,’ but Clodagh shook her head, leading them up a second then a third flight of stairs.

‘Paying for hospitality is seen as pretty scummy down here. People need a place to stay and you’re screwing them out of money? Who does that?,’ she remarked, finally coming to a stop at the top floor and leading them into the small room with a circular window and two beds; an identical layout to Siobh’s.

‘You wouldn’t even accept a gift?,’ Johanna asked, pulling a bag of chocolates from her bag, but Clodagh once again shook her head, sitting down on the bed Hilda had chosen for herself. Twig, curled up on the covers, grunted a little but seemed to be warming to her slowly.

‘Your respite is our pleasure..that was one of my Dad’s quips,’ Clodagh sighed, ‘I’m sure one of my brother’s would take it though, just be sure the other two don’t see it, things could get nasty..’

‘Is your Dad around?,’ Hilda asked, not really reading the room and perhaps looking for something in common. She realised she might have been out of line when Johanna gave her a hard stare, but eventually Clodagh waved her off.

‘It’s alright,’ she assured, ‘My Father died a couple of years ago,’ she explained to Hilda, who went visibly pale and hunched her shoulders apologetically, ‘He used to look after Newgrange, and I took over after his death’

‘Oh..right, I-I’m sorry,’ Hilda murmured.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Clodagh smiled, ‘But if you don’t mind me asking, I’ve never seen anyone with blue hair before, mind telling me where that comes from?,’ she asked, swivelling around to face her. Hilda picked her brain, but before she could even try to form an answer, there was a knock on the door. Clodagh clicked her fingers and it swung open, revealing her Mother who stepped through, lighting a pipe as she did. Hilda noticed Clodagh’s face flush with embarrassment.

‘Mum! It’s rude to smoke in front of the guests!’

‘It’s harmless,’ the woman shrugged, puffing on it a couple of times before she looked at Johanna and Hilda, ‘Now, do you mind introducing me?’

‘Fine..,’ Clodagh sighed, ‘Johanna, this is my Mother, Gráinne. Mum, this is Johanna and her daughter Hilda, they were trying to go between worlds through Newgrange. Johanna says her son was stolen by her partner years ago when he was a baby. They’re trying to find him..’

‘We know he’s down here,’ Johanna furthered, retrieving her wand from her pocket, ‘I practise magic..and some friends and I threw together a potion that told us my son was-’

‘Your magic is flawed,’ Gráinne interjected bluntly, ‘Even if your partner was Tuatha de Danann, he would not have been allowed to return to our world. The Gatekeepers would have sensed his misdeeds and turned him away!’

‘Mother!,’ Clodagh blurted, clearly incensed. Johanna held up a hand to stop her as well as Hilda, whose eyes went wide in fury at Gráinne’s words. 

‘I know who he was,’ Johanna said stiffly, ‘And I know he’s down here with my son! If you want, we can just pack up and find some other family,’ she shrugged bitterly. Gráinne’s eyes narrowed at this and Clodagh looked increasingly distressed. Watching the spectacle, Alfur assumed that their leaving would be a great dishonour to Clodagh's family. It seemed Johanna had figured the same thing, crossing her eyes and staring Gráinne down.

‘The facts are facts,’ the woman said coolly, not giving an inch, ‘You’ll only waste your time looking for your son down here. You can stay one night, but my home will not be a base for your mad goose chase-!’

She stopped at a timid knock at the door. Turning on her heel, Gráinne placed her pipe out of sight before she opened it to reveal a little boy, probably no more than ten years old. She beckoned him in close, and as they talked Johanna walked over to Hilda, Clodagh looking at them apologetically.

‘Seol suas iad,’ Gráinne murmured, tousling the boy’s hair before she sent him off. Approaching the window and looking down with what seemed to be a bit of apprehension, Gráinne puffed on her pipe before she spoke.

‘The Gatekeepers are here,’ she said plainly, ‘My son says they’re spreading word about something involving a blue haired child,’ she revealed, to the shock of those before her. Clodagh immediately looked concerned, as Hilda shifted uncomfortably. Were they not as welcome as they had thought?

Johanna put an arm around her daughter and pulled her close, gripping her wand tightly as she eyed the door. A sickening sense of deja vu rolled over her, as the sound footsteps grew louder. Gráinne looked at Clodagh and nodded towards the door. Her daughter blinked, clearly taken aback.

‘Me!? But..But I’m not the bean an tí!,’ she exclaimed.

‘No, you’re not, but look at the state of me!,’ Gráinne laughed, ‘Smoking away dressed like this, they mightn’t believe what I have to say! But they’ll listen to the carer of Newgrange, that’s for sure,’ she said, and Clodagh inhaled before she opened and shut the door. Johanna glanced at Gráinne quickly, before looking to the door at the sound of voices. She felt Hilda hold her hand, as Twig stood up next them.

‘You’ll be alright, Hilda..it will be ok..,’ Johanna soothed, eyes not moving from the door. After a few minutes of talking outside, Clodagh reentered and two hooded figures dressed in green cloaks with gold hems entered. They both drew back their hoods, revealing a fair and tawny man who both looked quite relaxed at the situation. Behind them, Gráinne closed her eyes and seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

‘Miss Johanna, my colleague and I are both Gatekeepers,’ the tawny man introduced, ‘Guardian Clodagh has explained your situation..and we believe we may have information about your son,’ he explained, retrieving a notebook from his pocket. Hilda looked up at her Mum with a mix of shock and excitement, but only met Alfur’s yes. She plucked the elf from her Mum’s hair, as Johanna mouth moved, though no sound came out. It had been ten years since anyone had told her they might know something about Harry, it was so hard to believe..

‘Er, hello?,’ the fair man asked, waving a gloved hand in front of her. Johanna blinked and sat upright, nodding quickly.

‘Yes, yes, I’m all ears!’

‘Right..well, a couple of days ago, there was an incident at one of our Gateways out in Wales..,’ the tawney keeper began, clicking his fingers and causing an orb of orange light to appear. Hilda felt she was looking at a concert, as the dust swirled around the floorboards. Then, a figure stepped into view and Johanna stifled a laugh, emotions flatlining. Tadgh had put on weight since they’d last seen each other. 

‘..one of our keepers reported that this man arrived with this child he claimed to be his son,’ the man went on, flicking through his notebook. As he did, Hilda scrambled forward at the sight of Harry. Her brother was little more than blobby orange form, but Hilda felt her eyes well up at the sight regardless. Johanna watched as the Keepers glanced at each other, their expressions hardening briefly before the man flicked through his pages. The battle fast forwarded to Tadgh facing the Gatekeeper, with Harry crouching behind him.

‘Our Keeper said the boy clearly didn’t want to stay, and intervened on his behalf,’ the man stated, ‘He encouraged him to jump into the hole..and he did, but I’m afraid that his Father-’

‘He’s not his Father,’ Johanna hissed, getting up to analyse the display closely.

‘-I’m afraid that the assailant was able to get past the Keeper, and followed him down the hole,’ the fair man explained mournfully, clicking his fingers to reveal Tadgh catching the Gatekeeper off guard for a split second, before jumping down after Harry. Johanna watched the scene with her heart in her throat, while Gráinne coughed awkwardly in the corner.

‘..And?,’ she murmured, looking at both men, and to her dejection the tawny keeper returned the notebook to his cloak.

‘Nothing yet, but rest assured that we-,’ he began when the side of his chest suddenly glowed. Pulling the notebook out again, its cover was glowing brightly and he opened it out onto a new page. There, a silver ink was writing itself along the page, with the Gatekeeper’s eyes lighting up as they followed it.

‘Wait, there is something!,’ the fair man gleed, ‘Our men were just talking to a woman named Derbhla, and she says a couple of days ago, her family took in a blue haired child called..Harry, is that right?,’ he asked and Johanna literally jumped for joy, almost hitting her head off the ceiling.

‘Yes! Yes! That’s him!,’ she sobbed, the emotion becoming too much, ‘Is..Is he still there? C-Can we go to him?’

‘Wait..,’ the fair man murmured, looking over his colleague's shoulder, ‘Says here that Derbhla’s husband and their daughter left yesterday with Harry. They’re bringing him to a place called..Trollberg? Can’t say I’ve ever heard of it..’

‘It’s-It’s on an island between Britain and Ireland,’ Johanna explained quickly, ‘Is..Is something wrong?’ she asked, seeing their expressions darken somewhat.

‘It means they’ll have to go across the sea..,’ the tawny man explained, ‘It’s a tough journey, and it doesn’t help that the creatures there banished us from that island either. However, your son should still be a couple of days out from it, there’s every chance we’ll catch up to them en route’

‘A-Alright..thank you both so much!,’ Johanna sniffed, taking both their hands happily. Hilda, who had been melting watching the whole scene unfold, tried to dry her eyes on Twigs fur with little success. This really was going to work out..they really were going to get Harry back. Johanna sat down next to her and pulled her daughter into a hug, while both Gatekeepers watched awkwardly.

‘We have to tell her..,’ one muttered to the other in Irish, turning their backs on Hilda and Johanna for a moment. The fair man glanced back, obviously reluctant.

‘I mean..she’s happy! I’d hate to ruin it..’

‘It’s best we tell her now then have it ruin the reunion later..,’ his colleague replied and after a hard swallow he nodded. Turning back to Johanna, he waved to get her attention before he thumbed to the open door behind them.

‘Miss Johanna..we’d like a word in private if you don’t mind,’ he explained, and Johanna’s face fell when she saw how pained his expression was. Still, she stood up happily and ruffled Hilda’s hair in joy. Clodagh and her Mother, meanwhile, watched with grim anticipation. They’d heard the whole conversation, and had pieced together that whatever the news was, it wasn’t good. Johanna went out the door, humming to herself. She was still slightly nervous at whatever was in store though, as the Gatekeeper retrieved his notebook and, after a moment’s hesitation, snapped his fingers.

Chapter Text

Tadgh awoke slung over the back of a horse thundering through the woods. He saw the shadows of several figures running alongside them, as his eye twitched at an unpleasant sensation on his face. He reached up to touch his nose, but was prevented when the horse came skidding to a halt. A hand grabbed his back to stop Tadgh tumbling off, and once he’d regained his senses he stumbled over towards a nearby tree. Slumping down against it, his vision blurred as he felt a dull, throbbing pain on his head. All around him, the Men of Tuireann conversed with each other, with one eventually coming over to tend to him.

‘Wh..What happened..,’ Tadgh groaned, as the assassin studied him briefly and then, without warning, reached out and pulled his nose to one side, setting it back into place. Tadgh cried out in agony, looking up furiously to see that it was the slender woman, the one who had scouted out the Tavern.

‘You cow!,’ he hissed, and the woman snorted as she applied an ointment to her hand and pressed it up against Tadgh’s head. He clenched his eyes shut at the sharp sting, though it proved brief as his vision cleared.

‘Says you,’ Tuireann remarked coldly, ‘You look much more like a cow than I do’

‘Did we succeed?,’ Tadgh asked, ignoring her as his memory returned. The woman scowled and shook her head, looking over toward the gaggle of assassins assembled nearby. It might have been his memory, but Tadgh could have sworn that there had been more of them previously..

‘We did not,’ Tuireann hissed, her tone somehow colder than before, ‘You, you stupid oaf, stepped on a branch and alerted some brat nearby..that said, it’s not entirely your fault,’ she conceded, ‘Our leader was reckless, he neglected to scout the camp out first and now two of Tuireann’s sons our dead on his watch!’

Tadgh swallowed, his assumption having been correct as he studied the group before them. He could see the little leader in the middle, with a short, patchy white beard and a scabby face. The crowd around him withdrew for a moment, whispering in the shadows. The lead Tuireann noticed Tadgh watching him, and their face formed into an ugly snarl. Before he could say anything though, the crowd dispersed and a lone assassin approached. They drew their sword.

It was the same person who had spoken to Tadgh at their old camp and who had spied on Harry and Siobh in the village. A fair, brown haired man with brilliant orange eyes, he had knelt before this disgraced Leader once. Now, it looked like the rolls had been drastically reversed.

‘You are to die,’ this Tuireann said plainly. The now ex-leader bowed his head in acceptance, before he looked up at his killer. For a brief moment, what looked like a hundred emotions passed over his face before it settled into a stonefaced, emotionless expression.

‘Then let it be done,’ he muttered, and before Tadgh could comprehend what was happening, the assassin had knelt down and slit his leader's throat. His body fell to one side, twitching as he breathed his last, before silence fell upon the clearing. The assassins emerged from the shadows, disregarding the body as they did. As Tadgh tried to absorb what had just happened, the woman got up and stepped away, pulling up her hood. Tadgh caught a glimpse of her wicked grin, as he realised that he was being surrounded.

‘Don’t look so surprised!,’ Tuireann laughed, ‘I didn’t say that it wasn’t your fault, just not entirely!’

Tadgh said nothing, angry words stuck in his throat as he felt himself go pale. The new leader approached, and in the moonlight Tadgh could see that it was the same man who had recruited him in the bar. His orange eyes were devoid of any feeling, and his sword remained drawn as the others descended into a fierce debate.

‘He’s a burden!’ one declared, ‘We’ll have to kill twice as many animals just to feed him!’

‘They could still have their uses, after all, who would suspect a fat oaf such as he to be a spy for us?’ another added. A murmur of agreement went through one half of the crowd at his suggestion. Tadgh felt he would make a good spy too; one of his few pastimes apart from drinking and beating Harry was watching James Bond films.

‘We would have to train him, a waste of valuable resources!,’ one assassin on the left shot back, ‘We cannot just make any man an assassin either,’ he remarked, looking down at Tadgh, ‘This one has a black heart, but not black enough to kill!’

‘Pehaps..,’ the new leader purred, ‘His emotions are too entrenched, but there is another I can think of..one who is a font of raw, malleable emotion..’

‘You don't mean..,’ Tadgh muttered, a hand upon his head.

‘Yes, your son would be the perfect to be an assassin!,’ Tuireann grinned maniacally and crouching down in front of Tadgh, ‘His fear, his anger..all easily moldable into something greater, all thanks to..you,’ he sighed dramatically, when Tadgh leapt at him in fury. He seemed to catch Tuireann off guard, bowling him over. However, the assassin quickly recovered, launching Tadgh backwards by planting two feet firmly into his gut. As Tadgh struggled to get to his feet, Tuireann circled him, his mocking laugh almost driving Tadgh insane. The crowd of assassins behind him also did a poor job of hiding their mirth.

‘Kill him! Kill him!,’ one of them called out, but the Leader scowled and raised a fist to silence them. Tadgh, however, felt the blood rush to his head and it was pumping from his injury. On his knees, he collapsed back to all fours as the assassin's laughter grew louder. The rage built with each moment; all he had wanted was to raise his son his way. His lowly Witch of a partner had dared to stand against him, Harry had betrayed him and now he was almost face down in the dirt, as the rejects of society laughed at him. Tuireann’s boot pushing him over onto his side was the last straw.

All Tadgh remembered next was jumping to his feet, but his next act would be burned into the memory of the assassins present. The oaf had stood up in an instant, so quick that even their new Leader paused in surprise. Just as quickly, Tadgh reached out and snapped in the direction of the man who had urged Tuireann to kill him. There was a chilling crk, and the Assassin collapsed, his head permanently twisted to one side and their neck fatally contorted.

‘Perhaps we were wrong..,’ Tuireann purred, as Tadgh absorbed what he had done, ‘Here we have a man who will not back down, who will bring suffering to all those who would wrong him. Think, friends, where someone with his ambition could take us!,’ he called back over to the silent group, as Tadgh coughed violently.

‘I..I killed him..how..’

‘You killed him..,’ Tuireann explained, turning back to Tadgh, ‘..Through your will. Do away with your noble delusions. Do you really think, even without having taken a life, that once you have your son, that you’ll be allowed to keep him?,’ he asked, ‘At best, you will rot in the Gatekeeper’s custody. At worst? You will be executed and publicly so. Either way, both Worlds will remember you as a failure. That is, if you do not stand up, take my hand and pledge yourself to be a Son of Tuireann!’

Tadgh rolled over on the ground, staring up at the stars. He realised that Tuireann was right; he was on the run from the Gatekeepers and even if he got Harry back, it didn’t mean things would get any better. And his will..through his will he had opened this path. He had willed from Harry the magic that brought them to the Otherworld, willed himself to stand up to its guardians and now he willed himself to survive,

Mustering up his strength, Tadgh pushed himself up and to his feet. He got a handle on the pain of his head injury as in the moonlight, he could see Tuireann smiling underneath his hood. The other assassins slunk back slightly into the shadows. They had underestimated him; Tadgh was more than the fat bumbling oaf they’d previously thought him as. The Leader reached out and took Tadgh by the wrist, holding his arm up to the night sky.

‘Behold Tuireann’s newest child! Soon, we shall all follow his stead, and all will learn to fear the name of our Father, both in this World and the one above!,’ he declared, and the assassins before them broke into a polite, yet stiff, applause. Tadgh could hear some muttering under his breath as he nursed his wrist and looked to Tuireann. Before, the fact he had quickly gotten used to the corpse splayed out before him would have unnerved him. Not anymore.

‘If yer right,’ he growled, ‘One day I won’t need you anymore..’

‘Correct, but right now you need me more than ever,’ the Leader replied, a small glint in his eye, ‘Your will is no longer totally blind, but still needs to be guided. I can help you there, but we still have this little errand to tend to..,’ he murmured. Putting a hand on Tadgh’s back, they moved away from the group, who had begun to talk quietly among themselves.

‘Taking care of our target?,’ Tadgh asked and the Leader nodded, rummaging through a pack on one of the horses and offering Tadgh a flask of water. As he drank heartily, Tadgh found himself lingering on why the assassins were pursuing Ruadrí. All he knew so far was his name, and that he’d raised a particularly loathsome child indeed.

‘Ruadrí..,’ Tuireann muttered, ‘..is a traitor of the highest order. Like I said, not everyone who joined us is a killer. Ruadrí was just a thief, a vandal, little more than a village nuisance. But like you, he was a useful nuisance. There was a noble in Ruadrí’s village who we needed dead, but our assassin couldn’t get past his guards. Since Ruadrí knew the streets, he was paid to find a back way in. We told him we wanted to steal the noble’s treasure..but instead our brother snuck in after Ruadrí and killed the noble in his sleep..’

‘I see..,’ Tadgh murmured, taking another swig of water, ‘..but why join us then? Would they have thought he was guilty?’

‘Ah, but Ruadrí was guilty!,’ Tuireann laughed, ‘He had led our brother into the noble's home, and even if he had been tricked, he was still going to commit a crime! He thought he was robbing him after all! He fled with our brother like a coward..but that came back to bite us in the end,’ Tuireann muttered, ‘Cowards, we learned, are as dangerous as any one of us!’

Before Tadgh could ask what he meant, one of the assassins approached them hurriedly, looking over their shoulder as the others began to scramble behind them. Not too far off in the distance, Tadgh could see a light flickering among the tree, and it was only when a branch fell that he realised what it was; a raging inferno engulfing the whole forest.

‘The Fianna have tracked us here!,’ the second Tuireann exclaimed, ‘They’re going to smoke us out of the forest or burn us alive!’

‘Scatter!,’ the Leader ordered, grabbing Tadgh and leading him over to a nearby horse. Heaving himself up, the smell of smoke began to permeate his nostrils as Tuireann cracked the reins and the horse took off at a gallop. Quickly overtaking the others, also on horseback, the Leader shouted back to them.

‘Keep close and form a fist! We’ll charge through the first group and then we’ll split up! Every man and woman for themselves!’

There was a cry of agreement from the others, as Tadgh clung on for dear life. Thundering through the undergrowth, he remembered the technique they'd used previously; travelling under the earth so they would go undetected by the Fianna.

‘Not all forests are open to us!,’ Tuireann shouted back over the roar of hooves, ‘After we were betrayed, the Fianna took over many of our old routes..’

Tadgh lingered on the word betrayed as they came charging out of the forest and the moonlight almost blinded him. They had surprised a group of Fianna, preparing to set the other side of the forest ablaze. Swords flashed, blood spurted and three of the four Fianna fell in agony. The other was trampled underneath their horses.

‘A small victory,’ Tuireann growled, ‘And soon we will have our vengeance!,’ he called out to the group behind, who responded with a resounding cheer.

‘Where will we meet you?,’ the woman who had been tending to Tadgh earlier called out. Tadgh felt all eyes fall on him, and realised that only he would have that answer. After all, they needed to catch Harry en route to wherever he was going, and Tadgh snarled as the word came to his mind. The place he had escaped from all those years ago after stowing away on a ferry.

‘Trollberg..HE WANTS TO DRAG ME THE WHOLE WAY BACK TO FECKING TROLLBERG!!,’ Tadgh roared, his head wound throbbing violently. He heard some of the assassins murmur behind him, and even Tuireann was slow in his response.

‘Trollberg..out across the sea, where none of the Tuatha de Danann have set foot in centuries..,’ he muttered, before he pulled the reins on the horse and wheeled around to face his minions. The remaining assassins barely managed to stop themselves from colliding with them in time.

‘This is hardly a time for a speech!!,’ one blurted, ‘Not when the Fianna are on our tail!’

‘Ah, but which one of you would follow us to Trollberg, where we can strike and operate without having to hide away like rats?,’ the Leader asked, drawing his sword and pointing to each of them. Tadgh remained silent. The Leader was evidently someone who dreamed big, but if his future was to be with the Men of Tuireann, he didn't want it to be in bloody Trollberg. If Johanna ever figured it out she'd set the bloody witches on him, and maybe her daughter to boot..

But the other assassins seemed more than keen, each nodding their heads as Leader continued to fill their head with dreams that Tadgh wasn't listening to. An island all to themselves where the Fianna couldn't touch them, they didn't need to think twice. They thundered off once more, as the forest behind them was devoured by the wildfire set by the Fianna. Tadgh didn’t dare relax, however, as cries were heard behind them. The fire had lit up the horizon beyond, and had lit up the assassins shadows as well. Breaking off into groups of two on the Leaders order, Tadgh clung onto the man as the horse galloped down a rocky hill, the treatment to his head injury slowly wearing out.

Trollberg..Trollberg..no matter how he felt, it seemed that everything would end where it had begun. All the way back in Trollberg..

Chapter Text

‘Ok..so just loop to loop and pull..yeah..yeah! You’ve got it!,’ Siobh cheered. Harry flapped his hands joyfully, filled with pride at the clumsy knot he had made. He had obviously never learned to tie his laces, and instead had mastered the art of not tripping himself up. Harry had gotten so good at it in fact that he didn’t even register the worn black threads whipping his ankles. After the run-in with the Men of Tuireann, however, Siobh had taken it upon herself to teach him. The last thing they needed was to be running from something and for Harry to trip over in a panic. 

‘I-I got so-something for you too!,’ Harry explained happily, reaching inside his cloak. Siobh blinked, confused. Harry didn’t exactly have anything worth giving, apart from the broken figurine Aoife had given him in the village. What Harry instead took out was a short, yet beautiful, bluebell flower. It wasn’t in one piece, a petal and a couple of white buds were missing from within. Harry held its stem gingerly with his thumb and index finger and held it out to Siobh, who took it delicately in her palm. 

‘Aw..you shouldn’t have!,’ she smiled, and while Harry brought his hands up to his cheeks at the sudden warmth he felt, though he also wore a look of mild confusion.

‘I..I s-shouldn’t have..?’

‘Oh, uh..y’know, you didn’t have to get me a flower, but you did! I appreciate it!,’ Siobh assured and Harry nodded his head slowly. He didn’t entirely get why someone would tell another they shouldn’t have done a nice thing for them, as the cart jostled going over a bump in the road. The children managed to keep themselves steady as some belongings rolled around, and Ruadrí called back worriedly.

‘Are you both ok back there?’

‘Yes Dad, we’re fine..a little tired though..,’ Siobh yawned. They had left the campsite early that morning, Ruadrí wanting to waste no time now that they knew the Men of Tuireann were after them. His urgency meant that the Gatekeepers prediction to Johanna would be off by a great deal, but Ruadrí had no way of knowing that. All that mattered was getting Harry to as safe a place as possible, all that mattered was ensuring his absolvement so he could live a peaceful life with his wife and daughter..

‘Y-You could put the f-flower on your brooch..?.’ Harry suggested, pointing at it as Siobh frowned on hearing her Father whistle anxiously to himself. It was probably just the journey, she thought, unpinning the haphazardly made decoration from her cloak. After a bit of tinkering, she managed to wind the stem along the top of the brooch, before she sat the head on top of the pin. Plants in the Otherworld were more durable, given the magic that flowed throughout, so the flower held up nicely during the process. Harry bounced happily, glad he’d been able to give back in some way for Siobh’s friendship.

‘Where did you get it?,’ Siobh asked, massaging one petal gently with her finger.

‘O-Oh..I found i-it next to t-the outhouse a-at the c-camp..’

‘What a fairytale!,’ Siobh laughed, slapping her leg in amusement.

‘Head’s up guys, we’ve reached our stop!,’ Ruadrí called over and the children scrambled to the front to see that they were approaching a large, oaken fence that cut through the middle of the road. Ruadrí cracked the reins, urging a beleaguered Toirneach on as the Sun began to dip below the horizon. Straining his ears, Harry could make out the sound of laughter along with the soft notes of music, before he was jostled by a loud, booming voice.

‘HALT!,’ someone called out in the dark and Harry drew closer to Siobh as a large figure stood up in front of them. Harry blinked, having thought it was a boulder. Now, a round and shirtless guard with a great big, bushy beard that was tied up in knots, grunted and grumbled as he made his way over to the side of the cart. The children glanced at each other, bewildered, but Ruadrí didn’t seem the least put off. At least, that was what it looked like with his back turned.

‘Your eyes move like a frightened fox!,’ the man remarked in Irish, small eyes narrowing in suspicion as he massaged his stomach and all too obviously rested a massive wooden bat on his back. Ruadrí chuckled and shook his head, stifling a yawn as he did.

‘Oh, we’ve been travelling since daybreak, just the shadows playing tricks on me I suppose,’ he sighed, using the excuse to study the hedgeline once again. The man scratched his beard and shrugged, before he held out his hands.

‘It shall be twenty two of your coins for me to let you through the fence,’ he explained, and he squinted as Ruadrí placed each coin individually into his palms. Harry and Siobh meanwhile were as confused as ever, whispering to each other.

‘H-How is he gonna l-let us through..,’ Harry murmured, scratching his cheek, ‘T-There isn’t a g-gate..’

‘It’s probably Lightwork,’ Siobh explained matter-of-factly, ‘Once Dad pays him the coins, he’ll click his fingers and reveal the entrance!’ before her jaw dropped at what happened next. On receiving his pay, the man turned and hauled himself over to the fence. There, he dug his fingers into the soil beneath and with a growl of exertion lifted it up like it was nothing. Ruadrí cracked the reins and Toirneach meandered through, Siobh looking up as they passed in total disbelief. Once they were through, the guard brought the fence crashing back down and Harry found it hard to contain his laughter.

‘I..I..uh..what..Dad, what was that!?,’ Siobh demanded, going up the front while Harry poked his head over the side to take in their surroundings. Not too far away, he found the source of the music and laughter. It was coming from a simply massive hall, great whitewashed walls extending outward for a considerable distance. They also went around the crowd, like some sort of weird, building hug. Above its thatched roof, a plume of fluffy white smoke floated up to the purple sky above. Gathered around the entrance were a large crowd of revellers, laughing and drinking to their heart's content. The merry environment was a little much for Harry’s liking, but his head bobbed along to the melody. They were close enough now that he could hear some of the lyrics.

♫Cara leat, Cara liom, cara le mo shaol!♪

♪Mar gur tusa car liom is cara leat mé!♫

‘That’s a popular song around here!,’ Siobh explained, coming up to him, ‘Dad’s gonna get the cart parked, so how about you and I go explore?’ she suggested, as Ruadrí guided them into a fenced area nearby, much more crowded than their previous refuge had been.

‘Oh..I’ve n-never liked c-crowds..,’ Harry murmured, rubbing his arm anxiously, but Siobh gave him a reassuring smile and took him by the hand.

‘Don’t worry, you’ll be with me! We’ll skim around the crowd too, there’s probably a quiet area we can find’

‘And no assassins will be getting past that fella either!’ Ruadrí added, tying up Toirneach and filling his bucket with a good helping of food. The horse more than deserved it after getting them all this way in record time. The group headed over towards the hall, but Harry paused and looked over in the opposite direction. Beyond the green field they stood in now, he could see the sea stretching out endlessly into the horizon, the purple and orange of the dimming sun bouncing off its waves.

Harry took a breath, it finally hitting him just how far he had come. Only a week ago, he had been a scared child going off barely a meal a day, beaten for the slightest “mistake” or just being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He had no idea he had a sister, nor the slightest hope of ever seeing his Mum. Now, he had a friend, one more than he had ever dreamt of, a full stomach and he’d even learned how to tie his laces. Turning and hurrying towards the hall, he found Siobh waiting for him dutifully, though Ruadrí had vanished. They hurried to catch up with him, ignorant to the fact that someone was watching them nearby..

___________________________________________

‘I owe her for this bloody head wound..,’ Tadgh growled, on his stomach and handing the spyglass back to Tuireann, who laughed as he tucked it back into his cloak. They’d been encamped on the hill for a while now, having arrived after riding through the night. Right now, none of the other assassins had made contact with them and this had Tadgh’s concern. Had they abandoned them? Or worse, betrayed them to the Fianna?

‘You are wise to be sceptical, but not so if you think them cowards!,’ Tuireann exclaimed, ‘We are family, each of us a child of Tuireann! To betray him is to betray yourself and to become a slave to the ideals of the Tuatha De Danann! To be part of Tuireann’s family means that you are free!’

‘There’s always something new with you, isn’t there?,’ Tadgh grunted and his colleague grinned, lying on his back and staring up at the stars.

‘I am simply a deep thinker. Many of my brothers and sisters told me I was a dreamer, but yet who has survived to our current reality and leads us through the dark? Me.’

‘You..,’ Tadgh muttered, when he spied something flying towards them. It was a blackbird, and clutched in its talons was a small roll of parchment. It landed on Tuireann’s shoulder, nibbling his ear as he unrolled the message and read it carefully. 

‘Our colleagues have arrived,’ he explained, ‘They’re in a couple of groups near the other entrances, who do you think we should do?’

‘Me?,’ Tadgh blinked, before he quickly masked his confusion, ‘I..I say we infiltrate the place in separate groups. You want a way to Trollberg, right? We’ll need boats, so if there’s any here you should send some out to get them’

‘They do,’ Tuireann confirmed, writing quickly on the back of the paper as the blackbird paused its nibbling to look at Tadgh beadily, ‘Let’s see..the Eastern group is closer, so I’ll send you-’

‘You’re not sending me!,’ Tadgh snapped angrily, almost jumping to his feet and blowing their cover, ‘Harry may be an ungrateful brat but he’s my ungrateful brat! You want him to be an assassin? Fine, but we do it on my terms!’

Tuireann paused at his backlash, before he smiled underneath his hood and quickly jotted down the orders. He held the parchment back up the blackbird, which took it in its beak and took off. It flew low over the green fields before it changed course into a nearby wood. Tuireann motioned for Tadgh to crawl with him to the bottom of the hill, where the assassin waited patiently as Tadgh dragged himself down with some effort.

‘You and I will wait by the carts then,’ Tuireann explained as they crept towards the fence, ‘With any luck, we'll be able to ambush the children without Ruadrí and be gone before anyone can stop us!’

______
Back inside the great dance hall, Harry and Siobh found themselves alone. Ruadrí, in much need of a pint, had stayed behind in the main area near the musicians. The Tuatha were a musical folk, and so most were able to play an instrument. Anyone who showed enough talent was allowed up on stage as a backup player, and Harry had heard Ruadrí practising while he and Siobh had eaten a quick snack earlier. The tune wasn’t as quick or lively as the one he’d heard earlier, and Harry wasn’t entirely sure if he was meant to hear Ruadrí either. The lyrics had been..somewhat unnerving. 

  ‘And he said..

..I know you, I know you young man..

..I know you by the state of your hands..’

Ruadrí’s hands had remained gloved as he played. Before Harry could make the connection between the lyrics and the bloody condition his hands always seemed to be in though, he and Siobh had left to explore the hall. 

The place was just as packed inside as it was outside, but the children found there seemed to be countless different pathways winding their way throughout the building. Along the way they caught glimpses of several performances inside smaller rooms, including but not limited to; a dapperly dressed merman performing tricks, two actors singing loudly and mournfully as they engaged each other in mock battle, and finally what looked a play, headed by a man in a colourful outfit with a tophat. Siobh stopped for the restroom, and Harry watched the performance while he waited. It didn’t seem to be going over well; the actor looked visibly nervous as a couple of people booed them from the audience.

That wasn’t the only thing that caught Harry’s eye though. They had come out onto what looked like the centre of the building, with a wide circular opening that allowed spectators to look at the performance below. It was mostly empty, and Harry stood up at a familiar sight on the other side. It was two Gatekeepers, both wearing an identical cloak to the one who had defended Harry while he leapt into the Otherworld. In fact, Harry could swear that one of them was that man. 

They were glancing about, and Harry could see he was clean shaven, with the same complexion as well. Harry couldn’t make out the colour of their eyes nor could he see his hair due the hood, but his instincts persisted. He was about to wave at the pair, who were talking to someone, when Siobh came out of the bathroom and quickly grabbed his arm.

‘Sorry!,’ she whispered, leading them away, ‘..But it’s not a good idea to interrupt the Gatekeepers..especially when they have their hoods up. It usually means they're on business..’

‘C-Could they be looking f-for me..?’ Harry wondered openly, and Siobh shrugged at the idea as she spied a staircase and led them down it.

‘Maybe, but at the same time they would have caught up by now, especially after what happened yesterday..but it’s probably nothing,’ she reassured, ‘I mean, look at this place! There’s probably someone getting up to mischief somewhere!,’ she laughed.

‘Y-Yeah..and..and I want t-to go home with y-you anyway. I want M-Mum and my s-sister to meet you..!,’ Harry replied happily as Siobh swung open a door at the bottom of the stairs. There, they found a small room that overlooked the main hall, which people had begun to enter. As Harry took in the full moon, he noticed a grove of short, glowing white trees behind the building. Siobh, meanwhile, went and looked over the balcony. 

‘Woah! We’re on top of the stage!,’ she called over, ‘And look! That’s the band we heard singing earlier, Dad’s with them! She exclaimed, rousing Harry from his trance and he came over to see  Ruadrí approaching the stage in a group behind. Siobh caught his eye and they both gave him a hearty wave. Ruadrí looked relieved on seeing them, and after the band took up their places on stage the upbeat, funky tune Harry and Siobh had heard earlier began to play. 

♫Cara leat, Cara liom, cara le mo shaol!♪

♪Mar gur tusa car liom is cara leat mé!♫

♫Cara leat, Cara liom, cara le mo shaol!♪

♪Mar gur tusa car liom is cara leat mé!♫

Siobh extended a hand to Harry as the song kicked off, smiling as he took it. The boy fixed her with a confused expression as she led them back towards the centre of the room.

‘Do you want to dance?,’ Siobh asked, ‘It’s alright if you don’t want to, we can head back to the cart once the song is done’

‘Oh..uh..I w-would!,’ Harry replied, ‘But..But I p-probably won’t be very g-good..’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll lead us!,’ Siobh grinned, taking a hold of Harry’s other hand, ‘I’ll be twirling us around a little, so if you think you’ll puke tell me!,’ she chuckled and Harry laughed alongside her. They began to dance, Harry clumsily following Siobh’s movements as they kicked their legs from side to side while the song continued below them. 

♫Cara liom!♪ 

♪A thagann an misneach Dom!♫

♫Cara liom!♪

♪Súile gan bréag!♫

♫Cara liom!♪

♪Nó ní beag é!♫

♫Cara liom!♪ 

Harry became lost in the tune as his movements became in sync with Siobhs. The rhythmic beat on the drum, the calm yet quick strumming of the guitar and the beautiful sound of the tin whistles combined to make him feel like he was floating. He and Siobh skipped around each other in a circle, before she eagerly gestured for him to stop. Rooting himself to the spot, Harry was spun around as Siobh built up the momentum before she let go. Then, holding out the ends of her cloak, she twirled about like a spinning top. Harry kept going as well, slowing himself enough to be in awe of the display as the song continued on.

♫Tráth dá raibh..♪

♪Amhras éigin orm..♫

♫Cúthal éigin ar mo dhrom..♪

♪Tráth dá raibh..♫

♫Easpa éigin orm..♪

♪Cara mhaith a bhí de dhíth orm…♫

Ruadrí paused playing as the song slowed down for a moment. Up above, he could hear the children dancing away and laughing to each other. He smiled, readying his guitar as the band drew out the build up. He looked under his gloves briefly, seeing that while the blood had returned it wasn’t about to go running down his wrists. It was the curse he had been dealt after he’d abandoned his old life, and he hoped that bringing Harry home would prove penance enough. As the song picked up pace once more, he began to strum his guitar and looked up calmly only to swallow hard. The Gatekeepers that Harry and Siobh had seen earlier were surveying the crowd intently. 

♫Éist, tá leigheas ar ais orm!♪

♪Biseach orm..♫

♫Níl an rud a bhí ag chuir isteach anois orm..♪

♪Tá's agam!♫

♫Go bfhuil sé liom♪

♪Iompraíom é ionnam..♫

♫Cara liom!♪

The song finished and the crowd went into a wild applause, toasting their drinks and cheering the musicians as they stood up and bowed. Harry and Siobh finished a final twirl, with Harry letting his friend go and sending her spinning away. Siobh was in full control, until she hit the back of the room, which was concealed by darkness. Worse, it turned out to be a door, which swung outwards and took Siobh with it. Joy turning into panic, Harry rushed over, snapping his fingers desperately to try and catch her. And..it worked! At least, Harry thought it worked. Instead, he stepped outside to find a woman with silver white hair and in a snow white dress levitating Siobh effortlessly. 

‘You can open your eyes!’ she said to Siobh in Irish, who cracked open one eye and breathed a sigh of relief. The woman set her down on one of the steps, which were part of a staircase set into the back of the building. Siobh caught sight of Harry’s nervous expression and reassured him with a hearty laugh, going up and taking both his hands in hers once more.

‘That was brilliant!,’ she gleed, ‘Who knew you’d be such a good dancer, maybe I could teach you a jig or two if we have time!’

‘T-That’d be nice!,’ Harry replied, when the woman turned around and fixed him with an odd look. It wasn’t hostile, Harry was pretty good at telling that, but it wasn’t welcoming either. More a sort of..guarded curiosity almost. She puffed on a pipe she had in her mouth, tapping its side as she did.

‘He’s lost, is he?,’ she asked Siobh, ‘See, I’m a wanderer, so I never learned the other language since I’d never be taking anyone in’

‘..Yes,’ Siobh replied after a moment, ‘He fell into our farm from above, and now we’re taking him home to his family..he had been taken from his Mum,’ she explained and the woman’s face softened as she regarded Harry. The boy had let go of Siobh and sat down on top the stairs, resting his head in his hands and studying the sky above them intently.

‘And yet..I sense the light in him, I heard him snap his fingers to try and catch you..,’ the woman mused, beckoning for Siobh to sit down next to her. She hesitated for a moment, but eventually took her up on the offer. Harry didn’t mind, wanting to rest after their dance. In the distance, he thought he could see something moving in the shadows..

‘His Father has magic too..but he isn’t one of us..not after what he did to him,’ Siobh revealed, ‘And he wants him back too..you may think I’m crazy, but-but last night we were attacked by-by assassins!’

‘Ah, the Men of Tuireann..their stench remains on the land alright. Yes, I heard of an attack on a nearby camp. It is why I came out here actually, hoping I could intercept them..I am glad you’re both ok’

‘Thank you but..who are you?,’ Siobh asked, half-thinking that this unarmed woman must be a bit mad if she thought she’d be able to handle some fearsome assassins. They flashed the girl a smile, and reached towards the grove of glowing trees Harry had seen earlier. She twirled her hand, with some small white orbs answering her call and floating towards them lazily.

‘I..Well, it’s hard to say exactly who or what I am, but I think a Druid is closest,’ the stranger explained, swirling the orbs as they arrived before she passed them to Siobh. They twinkled softly in her hands, and the girl remained quiet for a moment. 

‘I..I want to be a Druid too! It’s just..well, my magic isn’t brilliant..it doesn’t respond to me half the time..,’ she murmured. The woman nodded slowly and puffed some more on her pipe, deep in thought as she regarded Siobh.

‘If you knew that, why is it that you want to become a Druid?,’ she asked. It was an honest question, and Siobh struggled to answer it. Her parents had of course asked if she was sure, told her that becoming a Druid was a lot of work and everything else. But they had never brought up her limited lightwork. They’d gotten her the crook and a book of spells happily, praising her ambition and encouraging her despite the inevitable roadblocks. 

‘..I guess, um, I guess I thought that if I-I could crack being a Druid, then I-I’d be able to crack anything!’ Siobh finally answered. The woman chuckled for a moment and shook her head, placing a hand on Siobh’s shoulder. The girl felt the frustration fall over her face, and she dropped her hands, causing the orbs to float back over towards their owner.

‘Look, your magic is strong, just like everyone else,’ the woman explained kindly, ‘But only if you believe it is strong! The only thing stifling it is your doubt, and your impatience; every path is long, it requires sacrifices and in the end may guide you somewhere you didn’t imagine at all..but such is life, little one. Accept these things, and I am sure one day you will become a powerful Druid’

Siobh straightened herself and nodded, while Harry yawned behind them. He’d been so focused on the shadows before them that he hadn’t felt it creeping up on him. During the course of Siobh’s conversation, he hadn’t seen anything else, so Harry let his guard down and smiled as his friend came up to him.

‘You tired?,’ she asked, grinning as Harry shook his head while also failing to stifle another yawn.

‘Y-You can keep t-talking..I don’t m-mind!’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Siobh smiled, ‘I have a lot to think about anyway, so the quicker we get back to the cart, the better,’ she said calmly and Harry nodded. The woman stood up as they made their way past her, waving them off wordlessly and with a smile. To Harry, Siobh seemed to be deep in thought, which was punctured when she turned to wave goodbye, only to see that the woman was gone. Both children paused in astonishment; the only evidence she had ever been there were the white orbs floating softly where she’d once stood.

___________________________________________________

The blackbird returned to Tuireann’s shoulder, squawking something into his ear before it took flight once more. He and Tadgh stood under the shade of a nearby tree, close to where the carts were parked and where they could watch who went in and out. Tapping his foot rhythmically to the music playing in the main hall, Tadgh watched as Tuireann held his chin quietly, absorbing the blackbirds message.

‘Our two fellows in the hall have brought us mixed news,’ Tuireann said finally, ‘First, and most dire, is that there are Gatekeepers inside. They, however, don’t know that we’re here..otherwise we’d have been forced to flee a long time ago’

‘So what’s the good news then?,’ Tadgh asked gruffly, plucking a leaf from the tree and grounding it down in between his fingers. Since killing one of the assassins last night, he’d been beset by a raging bloodlust. While he’d be sure not to fatally injure Harry right away, Tadgh promised himself that Harry’s forging into an assassin of Tuireann would be brutal. 

‘That Ruadrí is still inside, and the children are not with him,’ Tuireann revealed, ‘Either the ones inside will intercept them, or we will,’ though this revelation did little to soothe Tadgh’s nerves. There hadn’t been any word from the two assassins coming in via the western entrance. When pressed, Tuireann frowned but in the end simply shrugged. 

‘I know that the western area of this place is kept clear for large outdoor gatherings, in case the hall is at capacity. It could be that they’re laying low for now, or they have killed themselves rather than give up information after being captured. It doesn’t take away from the fact that time is of the essence’

Tadgh’s brow furrowed over the lengths these oathbreakers were willing to go, when Tuireann gestured quickly for him to step back into the shadows. Tadgh almost didn’t recognise Harry’s voice when he heard it, eyes narrowing when his pathetic son and his friend rounded the corner. To Tadgh, the boy sounded like he was full of himself, but to an outside observer Harry simply sounded happier, more comfortable and optimistic. Waiting for the two children to disappear inside the small, fenced off area where the carts were kept, Tuireann motioned for them to follow..

___________________________________________________________________

‘Looks like the whole yard is empty,’ Siobh observed, lighting a candle as Harry climbed in behind her, ‘That’s a relief, nothing worse than trying to doze off when people are partying around you..’

‘Tell m-me about it..,’ Harry murmured, remembering the times his Father would be watching some late night football and start swearing at the television. Siobh pulled her sleeping bag out, while Harry remained still, looking out the back of the wagon. Siobh assumed he was thinking about his family, when in reality Harry had suddenly felt his hair stand on end.

‘I wonder how we’ll get Toirneach to Trollberg,’ Siobh mused, ‘We might have to leave him here, goodness knows he deserves it-!’

‘-Something’s wrong’

‘Huh? What do ya-?,’ Siobh began when Harry put a finger to his lips. Straining her ears, Siobh picked up on some heavy footsteps approaching from one side of the wagon. Toirneach pawed the ground restlessly, restrained and unable to protect the children. Picking up her crook, the girl cautiously went to check while Harry hugged himself nervously. His eyes fell upon Ruadrí’s pack.

Siobh, meanwhile, noticed a tall, cloaked stranger pause mid step. Tuireann had seen Siobh’s shadow approach due the candle light in the wagon and had swiftly pulled down his hood. Cloaks were not uncommon in the Otherworld, and in the dark Siobh couldn’t tell that they were the colours of an Assassin. She was leaning fully out of the wagon, balancing herself by holding the railing used to climb inside.

‘Siobh? Conas atá tú!,’ Tuireann said heartily as he stepped into the light of a nearby lamp. Siobh snapped her head back towards him, eyes wide in alarm and confusion. Tuireann’s distraction had saved Tadgh, who darted in between wagons to instead approach the front, while the conversation masked his footsteps. 

‘Conas a bhfuil a fhios agat mo ainm, strainséir?’ Siobh asked suspiciously, feeling her heart skip a beat as she held her crook tightly. Inside, Harry had retrieved a knife of some sort, which had been stowed in the side of Ruadrí’s bag. He didn’t feel much better as he gripped its worn straps, and he definitely knew he probably wouldn’t have the stomach to use it. Still, he felt it was better than nothing, feeling his heart beat faster as Tadgh approached stealthily. Or as stealthily someone his size could manage anyway.

‘Oh, your Father and I are friends,’ Tuireann said simply, leaning against the cart in front and glancing down quickly to make sure his sword was still hidden behind his cloak. Siobh cocked an eyebrow, swinging back to sit in the entrance to the wagon. 

‘I can’t say I know you, let alone seen you up at our house’ 

‘Oh, well, it’s been a while since I’ve seen him and your Mother. If I remember correctly, you only came up to my knee!,’ Tuireann laughed, but Siobh remained unfooled yet also unsure. The momentary silence allowed Harry to pick up on Tadgh’s final footstep, and he spun around to be greeted by his Father’s snarling expression. Tadgh cursed the loss of surprise, while Harry felt his scream become stuck in his throat. He shook, holding Ruadrí’s knife close while his Father, never breaking eye contact, raised the tip of his sword. He pointed it at Siobh’s back, then put a finger to his lips. Tuireann quickly restarted his conversation with Siobh, and Tadgh tried to beckon Harry forwards with one, sinister finger.

‘Don’t make me hurt her, rat,’ he hissed, as Harry suddenly felt lightheaded and tipped forwards slightly, ‘Come with us now..and maybe I’ll only give you half the hiding you deserve!’

Harry inhaled and spied the candle Siobh had lit when they entered. Toirneach shook his reins in anxiety, which in turn shook the life back into Harry. In one swift motion, he grabbed the candle and threw it at his abuser, Tadgh’s stunned eyes caught in candlelight before he ducked out of the way. A thin thing, the candle went through the opening but its flame caught the fabric and something in it caused it to be set alight quickly. Heart in his throat, Harry saw Siobh spin around in the corner of his eye. Sensing the opportunity, Turieann lunged, hand primed for the girls throat-

Siobh kicked him in the face just as he reached her and she scrambled back into the wagon. Toirneach was whinnying loudly, stamping the ground and tossing his reins, as the Assassin leapt in behind Siobh, pulling up his hood and drawing his sword. Blood dripping down his face, Siobh’s shoe clearly hadn’t put him off but she nonetheless tried again. This time, Tuireann caught the Crook as it swung towards him.

‘You’re dealing with a real assassin now, brat, not that fool from before!,’ Tuireann laughed coldly, the broadening fire illuminating his maniacal grin. Siobh glanced desperately back at Harry, whose eyes were darting up and down the otherside of the cover, before she looked back up at Tuireann. Heart pounding in her chest, Siobh tried to pull the Crook free from Tuireann’s grip with little success. Outside, she could see the hulking shadow of Harry’s Father preparing to enter, and was baffled at how he was willing to sacrifice everything to have a son he didn’t deserve-!

Her resolve stiffened, realising that she would do nearly anything to get her friend home. And it would require a sacrifice. Thinking quickly, Siobh gripped the Crook tightly and  poured all her energy into it, before she quickly snapped her fingers before Tuireann could react. At first nothing, then Tuireann’s mocking cackle was cut off by a powerful and deafening explosion.

An orange light blinded everyone in the wagon, while the force of the blast threw Harry and Siobh backwards, shielding themselves from the shower of splinters. Tadgh, who had been seconds from climbing inside, was also sent flying with the railing still gripped in one hand. All around the carriage dock, horses cried out in fear as debris rained from above. But as fate would have it, it was the children, really Harry, who recovered first. He had been trying to cut a hole in the fabric with Ruadrí’s knife, but now the explosion rendered the whole thing nonexistent. Grabbing Siobh’s hand, the boy initially had to haul her across the damaged cart, his friend intent on grabbing what remained of her Crook.

Once she had, the two children leapt over the side only to find that they were fenced in by another wagon and the side of the fence. Tuireann, scarcely recovered, leapt over the side as well and his previously arrogant demeanour had vanished as he advanced on Siobh. His sword was pointed at her chest, as the girl stumbled briefly, unable to focus due to the ringing in her ear. Harry was experiencing it too, as he darted backward, trying to stave off his panic long enough to attempt to come up with a new plan.  

‘Give up, child, you can’t even stand straight,’ Tuireann hissed, quickly cancelling out Siobh’s attempt at lightwork with a snap of his fingers. The girl briefly wondered why he hadn’t run her through yet, when Toirneach raised himself up on his hindlegs and cried loudly. Harry had taken the incredibly dangerous risk cutting the horses reins and threw himself to the ground, narrowly avoiding a savage rear-end kick that sent the cart rocketing backwards. Once Toirneach had rounded on Tuireann and forced him to retreat, Siobh stumbled towards Harry and collapsed on her front next to him. He felt her take his hand.

‘Something’s wrong..,’ Siobh mumbled, ‘My ears..everything..’

‘..s-s-same..’ was all Harry could whisper. He felt himself begin to drift, and facing away from the fence he could vaguely make out his Father approaching through his blurred vision. Tadgh had his sword drawn, and was looking around frantically for any sign of rescuers. The music had stopped in the hall as soon as the explosion had gone off, and had been replaced by the sound of panicked screams. Siobh and Harry could barely make out any of it, the girl holding up her hand limply before it fell back to the ground.

‘Maybe I’ll take some of your fingers, eh?,’ Tadgh sneered, jabbing at where he had hit his head, ‘A reminder for my worthless runt here-!’

‘GET AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER, KINSTAIN!’

Ruadrí flew in like a man possessed and sent Tadgh running like a frightened animal. Their swords clashed briefly, but Ruadrí quickly proved himself the superior duelist and, on finding an opening, sent Tadgh flying backward with two fingers to the forehead. Already by the children's side before Tadgh was done rolling over, Ruadrí cursed under his breath as he slung them both over his shoulders. Looking around for an exit amidst the chaos, Tadgh’s pained, dark laughter caused him to spin around while Harry groaned. 

‘Something funny, monster?’

‘Oh..me..the monster.. honestly!,’ Tadgh laughed, hunched over on one knee before he fixed Ruadrí with a wicked grin. The two-fingered blow had blood pouring from his forehead while clearly leaving him concussed, but Tadgh still had one weapon and one he was quite skilled with; his wordplay. It had been what brought Johanna in after all.

‘Call me the monster..when the..the assassin stands before me!,’ Tadgh cackled, and Ruadrí inhaled sharply while Siobh’s grip on the back of his cloak fell away. Her Father prayed that she had simply lost consciousness as Tadgh went on.

‘A thief..! Brought..Brought them into a..a mans home..and watched as..as they murdered him!’

Ruadrí was rooted to the spot, trying to retort before he shook his head and zoned back into reality. He wasn’t that man anymore, Derbhla had assured him of that countless times. But the weight of his sins remained, slowing him as he rushed past Tadgh, who screamed after him while he struggled to his feet.

‘COWARD! COWARD!! GIVE ME BACK MY SON!!’

Even if he didn’t mean it, the cry opened up a whole can of worms. There were people hurrying into the camp from the panic that now gripped the main hall and some immediately stopped in their tracks. One or two even drew some weapons, but Ruadrí was able to push his way into the crowd streaming outwards in all directions, as screams and cries shred the peaceful night into tatters. There was only one way out of this for all them, and that was the sea. Unwilling to run unarmed, Ruadrí shook each of the children.

‘One of you..if you can I need to run with me..’

‘I-I can..’

It was Siobh. Ruadrí dropped her to one side, looking all around as he drew his sword and the girl centred herself, while her Father’s gaze quickly fell on the splintered stump that used to be her crook. Before Ruadrí could appraise any of Siobh’s injuries, she tugged his cloak and pointed towards the sea with the remains of her most prized possession. 

‘We have to go..we..WE HAVE TO GO NOW!,’ she shouted, pulling him and Ruadrí broke into a run. Siobh was able to keep pace with him for a time, but hadn’t even cleared half of the distance to the shore before she began to slow. Naturally, Ruadrí paused for her but his daughter gestured madly for him to keep going.

‘Siobh don’t be ridic-!’

‘GET HARRY OUT OF HERE!,’ Siobh screamed, tears flowing down her face. Ruadrí reached for her desperately but the girl stepped back, putting her fractured crook in between them. The expression which Ruadrí was met with next was one of pure betrayal and hurt.

‘You..You’re an-an assassin..!’

‘Siobh..!’

‘No no, she’s right,’ a voice came, along with the soft sound of hooves, ‘You are an assassin, Ruadrí! One cannot simply leave Tuireann’s family, not without expecting some consequences at least’

It was Tuireann, who rode up to them calmly on Toirneach’s back. During his fight with the animal, he’d managed to avoid the horse's attacks long enough to dominate its mind. It was no easy feat, especially with the chaos around them, but Toirneach’s mind had been in such a state that he had been rendered vulnerable. Now, the loyal steed had stumbled at the last hurdle and was under the hypnotic control of its new masters. 

‘Oisin..,’ Ruadrí breathed, as Siobh stepped behind him, ‘You’ve seen better days,’ he said, Tuireann’s hood having fallen to reveal a large, bloody bump above his right eye. Splinters were scattered across his face, the droplets of blood combining into a stream down his mouth and cheek. On hearing Ruadrí use his real name, Oisin’s expression contorted into one of painful rage.

‘Unlike you, I have remained committed to Tuireann, his beloved son!,’ he sneered, ‘Unlike you, coward, who sold us out to the Fianna! I’ve heard you purchased quite the plot of land for yourself!’

‘And yet I’m the coward?,’ Ruadrí retorted as they slowly walked on, ‘Why not take the rest and attack me there?’

‘A wasteful idea when there are so few of us thanks to you..,’ Oisin replied, sounding almost mournful as he regarded Ruadrí with a deep disdain, ‘Besides, I have only just been granted the role of leader, by virtue of my predecessors failings at the campsite’

‘How quickly it's gone to your head,’ Ruadrí mocked, ‘Don’t you know the Gatekeepers are here?’

‘Naturally, and I’m sure my fellows have caused enough chaos to keep them distracted,’ Oisin shrugged , glancing over his shoulder towards the panicking crowds, slowly growing smaller, their cries fainter. Siobh, meanwhile, couldn’t fathom why the assassin hadn’t attacked them yet. As hurt and angry as she was, she knew her Father wasn’t about to betray them. Deciding to count her blessings, she felt the soft crush of sand under the soles of her shoes, the lapping of the sea soothing her headache. Harry also began to stir, and Ruadrí stopped to let him down.

‘Siobh..take Harry to one of the boats, I will handle Oisin and be with you shortly’

‘Oh no, it won’t be so simple as for you to face me here,’ Oisin replied, grinning broadly as a fire danced in his eyes. He hopped off Toirneach and after a whisper, clapped the horse on his backside and sent it back towards the crowds. Ruadrí’s eyes narrowed, as Siobh tugged Harry and led him towards the nearest vessel. 

‘You hardly think I’m going to let you get back up’

‘No, you cowardly amadán, I’ve sent him to collect my passengers’

Harry and Siobh paused as they stepped inside the boat, with Ruadrí’s eyes going wide in astonishment as he put together Oisin’s plan. He stared at his old fellow, a man he had once considered a kindred spirit, in disbelief. He couldn’t mean..

‘..you intend to make Trollberg your new home’

‘Precisely’ Oisin confirmed simply, ‘A home out of the reach of the Gatekeepers, the Fianna..a home which will be inaugurated with your blood and the cries of your daughter when I pierce your heart!’

A wave crashed on the shore and Siobh started towards the assassin, but Harry placed a hand on her shoulder. Ruadrí stepped back, never taking his eyes off Tuireann as he moved towards the boat. Siobh undid the rope, chewing the inside of her cheek remorselessly as she spied Toirneach approaching in the distance. Harry watched as Ruadrí whispered to the oars, which then began to push themselves through the water. Tuireann watched them go, the smile never leaving his face when Harry found a spark of courage, and leaned over the back of the boat to shout at him.

‘I-I won’t l-let you t-touch my-my home Oisin!!’

The assassin laughed cruelly.

‘You will do nothing, lad. You’re as big a coward as the one protecting you! To think a girl with hardly any magic is your best chance!’

‘Look in the mirror!,’ Siobh snapped, joining Harry, ‘Next time I’ll..I’ll shove this up your arse!,’ she declared, brandishing the remains of the Crook threateningly. Oisin didn’t respond, watching wordlessly as the boat slowly became indiscernible from the horizon. Toirneach returned with the last of the assassins, having delivered Tadgh first. Turning to the steed, Oisin stroked the horse's mane while Tadgh’s small eyes studied the horizon bitterly, a hand to his forehead. They had been so close..

‘Any news from the others?’ Oisin asked his fellows, who shook their heads. Caked in blood, it was the woman, Tuireanna, alongside another assassin who had begun murdering attendants as soon as Siobh had blown up her crook, contributing to the chaos.

‘However, we would have begun a bit earlier..,’ the shortest assassin explained, ‘The Gatekeepers took over the stage with this..this woman in a white dress. They dumped the bodies of our fellows there and said the place was on lockdown. That’s when the explosion happened’

‘A wandering woodswitch, perhaps, close to the land and who holds all things dear,’ Oisin mused, looking Toirneach in one of his glazed eyes, ‘Then let tonight be the opening salvo, the declaration of war against this land and those who stand against the ways of Tuireann!’

And with that, he plunged his sword into Toirneach’s side.

Chapter Text

Hilda kicked the ball to one of Clodagh’s brothers, looking anxiously towards the kitchen window while Twig sniffed around the back garden. Last night, her Mum had come back into the room after talking with the Gatekeepers in private, her expression pale and eyes full of despair. She hadn't explained anything, just hugging Hilda and murmuring incoherently into her daughter's fringe before they went to bed. Hilda had absolutely heard her crying in the en suite, but when pressed her Mum had either dodged the question or ignored her entirely.

Now, Johanna was inside with Clodagh and her Mother, Gráinne, and was presumably relaying to them everything she'd been told. Had it not been for Alfur, Hilda would have felt she would go insane with nobody to talk to. Clodagh’s brothers ranged between ten and six years old and while they played happily enough, there was a language barrier since they were yet to learn any English.

‘I..I feel empty..,’ Hilda murmured to Alfur as the youngest brother stared at her curiously, ‘Mum..I've never seen her like that before..what could they have told her..’

‘Well, I'm hardly going to sit up here and tell you it's fine,’ Alfur replied, just as concerned as Hilda was, ‘..I'm sure Harry's alright anyway!’

‘Ugh! But then you are telling me it's fine! If it's not about Harry than what else could it be!?’ Hilda exclaimed angrily, kicking the ball a little too hard and barely missing the oldest of Clodagh’s brothers. The boy's eyes went wide and Hilda tried to smile apologetically, but failed miserably. Instead her worries contorted her expression into something indescribable and the poor child hurried over to the end of the garden towards one of his siblings.

‘I..don't think we’re making the best first impression here..,’ Alfur murmured, to which Hilda responded with a disgruntled sigh, before she turned on her heel and stalked back towards the house. Sensing her distress, Twig followed, much to the disappointment of the two younger boys who had been giving him countless pats.

‘Hilda..I can't say intruding on a private conversation is the best idea!’ Alfur implored.

‘I want to know!,’ Hilda shot back, ‘I..I don't want this kept from me too!’

‘This is hardly-!,’ Alfur tried to say, when he was cut off by the back door swinging open. Hilda winced at the ear-splitting creak it made, as Clodagh stepped outside. She looked pale, and sat down on the back steps before she motioned for Hilda to join her. Eying the open doorway behind her, Hilda at first thought about making a break for it, but eventually relented and sat down next to their host.

‘I know what you're going through,’ Clodagh said after a moment, watching her brothers trying to climb a tree at the end of the garden, ‘Something happens and the adults start treating it like a big secret..’

Hilda glanced at her for a moment, before she sighed and wrapped her arms around her knees, studying the stone paving beneath them.

‘Mum was like that with Harry too..I hardly knew anything about him and-and I almost hated her for it,’ she explained, feeling Clodagh watch her pensively, ‘She only told me everything a few days ago..but it helped a lot, in the end I couldn't really-’

Hilda stopped and looked up at Clodagh, who watched in confusion as Hilda’s eyes darted around in thought before she gripped her leggings apprehensively.

‘They told Mum something..Something she blames herself for..’

It weighed on Clodagh heavily that she couldn't confirm nor deny Hilda’s answer. When she was sixteen and her Father had become ill, her Mother had refused to tell her anything beyond the most vague details, while at the same time insisting she not disturb his rest. When Clodagh went against this and snuck up to the spare room to see him, she'd found her Father incoherent and just about able to recognise her. Gráinne had caught her, though her Father saved her from any real punishment when he momentarily became lucid.

Husband and Wife had argued in the aftermath, and Gráinne had blamed Clodagh for bringing undue stress on the family, especially since she was expecting her youngest at the time. Eventually though, she'd accepted that Clodagh had done what she did due to lack of info. While it continued to be vague, she was at least allowed to see her Father when he was able. This too became rare as his condition deteriorated, and Gráinne had always maintained that she'd kept Clodagh from him at first so she wouldn't have to see this. Naturally though, Clodagh had always and still felt bitter, even as she and her Mother had bonded over raising her three brothers.

‘Yes..but it isn't my place to tell you,’ Clodagh replied, detesting each word that came out of her mouth. Hilda closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before she lay back on the steps and stared up at the sky.

‘That's hardly the most comfortable place in the world..!,’ Clodagh chuckled tiredly, pulling her arm from one sleeve of her cloak and allowing Hilda to rest her head on it once she'd balled it up.

‘I'm fine..just..is Mum ok? That's all I want to know..’

‘She's fine,’ Clodagh assured, ‘Just..Just quite shaken up about what the Gatekeepers told her. My Mother and her are talking about it inside’

Hilda couldn't bear it. She had to see her Mum, even without any explanation to what had happened, she just wanted to be with her. She stood up, and Clodagh immediately figured out what she was about to do. She moved to stop her, but before any altercation could happen, they both heard a powerful series of knocks coming from the front door.

‘What..What was..,’ Hilda murmured and Clodagh swallowed before she reluctantly beckoned the girl to follow. Hilda was pointed through a side door, while Clodagh locked her brothers out in the garden. Inside, Hilda found her Mum clutching a cup of tea and it was immediately obvious that she had been crying. Before Johanna could say a word, Hilda went right up to her and threw her hands around her middle, hugging her tightly.

‘I-I don't want you to tell me anything..,’ she murmured as Johanna pulled her up onto her lap, ‘I..I just want you t-to be ok!’

‘Oh, sweetheart..,’ Johanna murmured softly, stroking her hair, ‘You'll learn soon enough..but right now I think I need a breather, why don't you-?’

She stopped, having looked up and gotten the fright of her life. Hilda turned and saw a burly Gatekeeper standing in the kitchen door, a whole head taller than Gráinne who stood by his side. The man had his hood up, obscuring nearly his whole face in shadow as Gráinne’s eyes darted from Hilda to Clodagh as she entered. Her eyes narrowed, but she said nothing.

‘You are the two Guardian Clodagh brought yesterday?,’ the Gatekeeper asked, his voice deep and sounding extremely serious, on the edge of anger even. Johanna nodded slowly and held Hilda close, while Twig sat in front of them. The Gatekeeper glanced at the Deerfox dismissively, before he snapped his fingers and a bright orange light erupted from the kitchen table. Johanna quickly scooted back, as a scene similar to the one they were shown yesterday appeared. This time, the flames came together to form what looked like a building, and people were seemingly fleeing from it in a panic.

‘Last night,’ the Gatekeeper explained, ‘There was a serious attack on the Ceilí Hall of Con the Great in Wales. It was led by the Men of Tuireann,’ he revealed, causing Clodagh to gasp and the formidable Gráinne to go obviously pale.

‘I thought the assassins had been wiped out?,’ she asked, but the Gatekeeper responded with a stern shake of the head as he clicked his fingers. Hilda and Johanna shot each an apprehensive glance as the scene dissolved and reformed. This time, Hilda recognised her Father, laughing maniacally at something and when she caught a glimpse of the Gatekeepers cold expression, she swallowed. She had a bad, bad feeling about where this was headed..

‘Is this your partner, Lady Johanna?’

‘Once..,’ Johanna replied coolly.

‘Once?,’ the man replied, pulling out a seat and sitting down across from them, ‘Or now?’

Johanna put a hand over Hilda’s mouth to stop her from blurting out an angry response, while her eyes shot to Clodagh, who stepped in to provide evidence. Hilda, meanwhile, got off her Mum's lap and stood by her side, stewing angrily.

‘I assure you, Gatekeeper, that neither Johanna or her daughter have any association with the Men of Tuireann,’ Clodagh explained calmly, ‘They came to me searching for her son, who was taken by that man you see there. My instincts told me that there was nothing to fear’

‘Your instincts may be flawed, Guardian Clodagh,’ the Gatekeeper replied, turning his head slightly to speak with her, ‘After all, I sense there is more to Lady Johanna here than meets the eye’

‘I practise magic, yes,’ Johanna confirmed, retrieving her wand from her pocket and placing it on the table. Usually, Witches would summon their wand with a flick of their wrist, but Johanna lacked the reflexes to catch it from her sleeve thanks to her years of inactivity.

‘A detail you thought necessary to keep from me?,’ The Gatekeeper asked, his tone one of cold eeriness, ‘It isn’t wise to keep information from an officer of the law..’

‘Do the Gatekeepers keep information from each other as well?,’ Gráinne asked, ‘Yesterday two of your colleagues were far more respectful to Johanna and her daughter!’

‘Who are you to accuse me of disrespect?,’ the man asked, sitting straight in his chair, ‘The nature of this case has changed since yesterday, óstach Gráinne. We are not without casualties,’ he revealed, which caused Hilda’s mood to do a complete somersault. She took her Mother’s hand in distress, as the thought bounced around her head relentlessly; had..had her Father killed someone?

‘And yet you use those casualties as flimsy evidence to accuse me and my daughter of harbouring assassins!,’ Gráinne rebutted, jabbing the end of her pipe at the Gatekeeper, ‘All Johanna wants is the return of her son. For goodness sake, you failed to stop that man from chasing him in the first place!’

‘So he’s being chased?,’ the Gatekeeper asked, ‘Or transferred?’

‘What-!?,’ Johanna blurted out in disbelief, before she was cut off by the Gatekeeper standing up and clicking his fingers, causing the image of shift once again. The new scene caused Johanna to grip the edge of the table in horror, seeing an unconscious Harry slung over the shoulder of a stranger. Running alongside him was another child, a girl, until she stopped and they appeared to have an argument. Then, another man arrived on horseback and the group began to move somewhat calmly. They reached some boats, and the Gatekeeper ended the scene with a snap of his fingers.

‘Boats to Trollberg..?’ Hilda murmured, while Johanna’s eyes bored into the Gatekeepers. She had finally understood what he had been poking at for the last few minutes, and to say it made her angry was an understatement.

‘Are you accusing me of letting these..these assassins come to my home in exchange for my son?,’ Johanna hissed, standing up and glowering at the Gatekeeper, who simply shrugged. Johanna chewed her top lip furiously as Clodagh and Gráinne glanced at each other anxiously. It was looking like they would have to restrain Johanna from strangling the man, who exhaled at the situation as if it were nothing more than a nuisance.

‘It certainly seems that way, Lady Johanna, especially after seeing his supposed rescuers talking so casually with these scum-!’

‘And what makes you think you’re any different!?,’ Johanna exclaimed angrily, ‘You-You dare assume that I’d join forces with these..these MURDERERS!! Last night the Gatekeepers showed me how-how Harry had been ABUSED! HIS FATHER STOLE HIM FROM ME AND BEAT HIM! TORTURED HIM! AND YOU STAND THERE AND-AND ACCUSE ME OF WORKING WITH HIM!?!’

She stopped, hands flat on the table and breathing quickly, while Hilda was frozen in shock next to her. Her arms hanging limply by her side, the girl's mouth moved but no words escaped, if she could even put into words just how awful she felt. She heard Alfur gasp in horror as she tried to absorb it. Her brother..abused and tortured? It made her want to throw up..

The Gatekeeper meanwhile seemed to have been cowed, if briefly, by Johanna’s outburst, drumming his fingers on the table before he reached inside his cloak and retrieved a piece of parchment. He gave it a flick and then set it on the table, whatever he had done preventing it from rolling up again. Johanna frowned as she read it, reaching out and pulling Hilda in close.

‘..house arrest?’

‘Effectively,’ the Gatekeeper replied, ‘Be thankful we see fit to keep you here instead of elsewhere. It will go on until we locate your son and eliminate the remaining assassins’

‘And when will that be?,’ Johanna asked pointedly, her tone sharp, ‘Yesterday they told me Harry was two days away from the sea, and that they'd catch up with him?’

‘Things have moved quicker than expected..but I warn you against putting any blame on us,’ the Gatekeeper said slowly, tapping the parchment, ‘Again, you are lucky that it is house arrest you're dealing with..’

‘And how do you expect to get to Trollberg?,’ Johanna pressed, ignoring the threat, ‘After all, your colleagues told me that the Tuatha de Danann were banished from there-’

‘-I have neither the time nor the patience to tell you our methods, Lady Johanna,’ The Gatekeeper interjected fiercely, ‘You will stay here until we return with your son and that is final!,’ he exclaimed, pounding a fist on the table. Johanna glowered at him, before she closed her eyes and sat back down. She picked up Hilda, the girl offering little resistance as she cradled Twig in her arms. The shock had been so intense that she hadn't even heard the conversation.

‘Well, I've neither the time nor the patience either,’ Johanna smiled, before she grabbed her wand and tipped the chair backwards. Hilda’s senses came rushing back and she screamed as they fell into a pitch black void. Johanna hugged her daughter tightly, eyes scrunched shut as she focused on their destination. For a moment, she felt the seconds start to dig in, then-!

‘Oof!’

Mother and daughter landed in the little grotto they'd landed in with Clodagh the previous day. Johanna wasted no time and was on her feet the moment they landed. Hilda lay spreadeagled on the ground for a moment, blinking in confusion before Twig licked her face and brought her back to reality. As Johanna looked about frantically for an exit, Hilda ran her fingers through her fringe and to her relief was able to pick out Alfur.

‘Alfur..you alright?’

‘A bit queasy..,’ the elf murmured, ‘I admit I was trying to get lost in the paperwork there, but we’ll talk more once we get out of here!’

‘Harry..,’ Hilda sniffed quietly as she hurried up to her Mum. There was no sign of an exit, and Johanna felt the seconds slipping away from them. Gripping her wand, she chewed her top lip in anguish as Hilda watched, her own mind racing to try and come up with some sort of solution. Then, just as Johanna turned at what she thought was voices, Hilda remembered something.

‘In my opinion at least, you don’t get that much people praying to something without it becoming a little bit alive…besides, you have to ask Newgrange permission to travel to the other side anyway’

‘Mum! Mum!,’ Hilda cried, running up to her side, ‘Clodagh said Newgrange was alive, remember? We need to ask them to let us leave!’

‘Of course!,’ Johanna replied, slapping a hand to her forehead, ‘But Clodagh spoke to them in her own language.. and after last night I can't even remember what she said..’

‘I-I do! I know their name at least..,’ Hilda murmured, and Johanna nodded before she stepped back to allow her daughter to stand in the middle of the grotto. Behind, she could definitely hear the sound of voices, and they didn't sound all that pleasant. Twig stood in front of her, poised for combat as Hilda looked up and called out to the monument above.

‘Um..Si an brew!?,’ She cried, cupping her hands to her mouth, ‘If you can hear us, my Mum and I would really like to go home! It's b-been great and all but-!’

She was cut off by a loud rumble that shook the grotto, so much so that Johanna struggled to stay on her feet as she grabbed Twig and backed towards her daughter. Wand aimed towards the exit, she glanced back quickly and felt little bits of dirt tumble onto her head. The ceiling above them was opening, and soon Hilda could make out a pinprick of light above them. She took her Mother’s hand in anticipation, as a crowd charged into the grotto behind them.

‘Seize them!’

It was the Gatekeeper from minutes ago, and he looked more than willing to carry out the act himself as the crowd behind, some armed with pitchforks and even swords, seemed to back away. Hilda and Johanna felt themselves be lifted slowly into the air as the man rushed forward and reached out to grab Johanna's wrist, only for Newgrange to respond violently. There was a burst of air, sending Mother and daughter flying upwards and the Gatekeeper into the crowd of frightened onlookers. Up and and up they went, until they were blinded by the dawn's light and landed in a heap on the dew soaked grass. The hole in the ground disappeared almost instantly, leaving Hilda and Johanna alone.

‘It worked..?,’ Hilda murmured, before she sat up, ‘Mum! It worked!’

‘..It did!,’ Johanna breathed, shielding herself from the rising sun, ‘I wonder if it's because you're..no, never mind, it doesn't matter. Come on! We have to get back to Trollberg as soon as possible!,’ She exclaimed, and they both sprang to their feet and hurried towards the hedgeline. Thankfully, it seemed that it was so early that Newgrange was not yet open to visitors. Casting one last look back at the monument before she forced herself through the hedge, Hilda’s thoughts lingered on Clodagh and Gráinne. She hoped that the Gatekeepers wrath wouldn't fall on them instead..

The car was thankfully untouched from the previous day, but just as uncooperative. As Johanna struggled to get the door unlocked, Hilda’s thoughts were dragged back to Harry. How long had their Father been hurting him? Would there be any hope of retrieving the boy he could have been, and if so, how long would it take-?

‘Hilda! Come on, sweetheart, we have to move!,’ Johanna called over urgently, jumping the girl from her thoughts long enough for her to swing open the door and collapse into the passenger seat. Putting on the seatbelt, Hilda was again swallowed by the cocktail of emotions swirling around inside her. Anger, guilt, disbelief..all of it combined to drown her in a tsunami of despair.

‘..I didn’t want you to find out like that,’ Johanna said slowly, ‘And I’m sorry you had to see me that way..that man, what he was accusing me of just..’

She trailed off and shook her head, navigating the car up the warren of country roads back towards the main road back to Dublin. Hilda just stared ahead, bouncing about like a rag doll as they drove along the uneven surface.

‘What do we even do..’

‘Well, we’ll head back to the port first-’

‘No! About Harry!,’ Hilda exclaimed, her body returning to life as she sprang up in her chair.

‘..I suppose the only thing we can do is wait for the ink to dry!,’ Alfur squeaked, as Johanna was momentarily focused on getting the car onto the motorway. They travelled in the opposite direction for a moment in silence, before Johana took an exit and got them back onto the Dublin road.

‘Alfur’s right..,’ she said finally, ‘To deal with Harry we need to find him first, and I know you’ll be a brilliant sister, Hilda,’ Johanna soothed, taking her hand for a moment, ‘I know it’s eating you up inside..trust me, I was barely able to drag myself from bed this morning..but for now we’ve just got to push a little more! We..we’re so close to him, I can feel it..’

‘Yes..,’ Hilda murmured, feeling the determination rise in her. She could feel it too, a light at the end of the tunnel. Her brother was in arms reach, and she wasn’t about to let him down now. Joahnna turned on the radio, Hilda grabbed some snacks and they both began to ready themselves for whatever lay ahead..

Chapter Text

The Tuatha de Danann called the ocean that separated their lands under Britain and Ireland the Iron Sea, and for good reason. Its surface was a bleak, dismal grey and to reach Ireland on the other side required a month’s worth of prep and a skilled seafarer who could react quickly to any obstacle. Harry, Siobh and Ruadrí were none of these things, and were aiming for a place that no-one from the Otherworld had set foot on for centuries. It didn't help that the Men of Tuireann were almost certainly pursuing them.

‘I think we’re on the right course..,’ Ruadrí murmured, looking up from the aged map they'd luckily found in the ship's storage. Siobh and Harry said nothing, picking away at the rations that had also been stored on the ship. A couple of slices of bread had bits of mould on them, and Siobh gazed at Harry mournfully when he simply tore these pieces off before eating the rest of the slice.

They'd been at sea for hours now, Ruadrí being able to track the stars better than reading the map. All were still grappling with what had happened at the Ceilí Hall a couple of hours ago, and the hurt Siobh felt that her Father had once been an assassin was still fresh as well. Sitting quietly with Harry, Ruadrí had given the children a look over for any injuries and thankfully there was little aside from some bruising. The most serious damage for Harry and Siobh was a ruptured eardrum each, caused by Siobh blowing up her Crook by overloading it with lightwork.

She and Harry had slept uncomfortably while Ruadrí sailed the boat, now eating their pitiful breakfast. However, Siobh’s emotions became too much to bear; she couldn't keep them bottled up any longer. So she shot up like a bolt and whirled to face her Father, brandishing the shattered remains of her Crook at him angrily.

‘You're an assassin! Y-You’re a-a murderer!,’ she sobbed, as Harry tried to ignore everything by staring at the horizon behind them, looking for any signs of their pursuers. Ruadrí, his back to his daughter, removed his gloves and soaked his hands in the water. The boat was moving with periodic clicks of his fingers, allowing him to focus on what would prove to be a difficult conversation.

‘Yes..,’ Ruadrí confirmed after a moment, ‘..I have killed for the highest bidder..’

He sat at the front of the ship while Siobh choked on her tears, steading herself against the mast and hiccuping occasionally. It was clear she either wasn't able to or didn't want to ask anymore questions, so Ruadrí forced himself to go on.

‘I used to be a small time thief in a village far away from us,’ he explained slowly, ‘The Men of Tuireann came one day and told me they wanted to rob the house of the local noble. I was able to get them inside..but instead of robbing them, they killed the man in his sleep. And rather than face the consequences, I..I fled with the assassin’

‘..Oisin’s right, you-you are a coward!,’ Siobh hissed, glowering at her Father while Harry’s eyes remained glued to the horizon behind them. He didn’t know how to feel now, Ruadrí had battled the assassins and his Father, sure, but now here he was saying he had killed people. Not to mention that after the last attack, Ruadrí had assured him that nothing like it would happen again. Had he let his guard down? Had he thought the assassins wouldn’t be able to enter the Ceilí Hall?

‘Does Mum know!?,’ Siobh demanded suddenly, startling her friend. As Harry settled, he turned his head slightly to see Ruadrí nod after a minute's hesitation. His daughter gasped, and slumped down again the mast, shoulders racking as a new wave of emotion came crashing over her. Ruadrí tried to approach and comfort her, but Siobh snatched the broken Crook up off the ground and warded him off. Her Father sat back down and buried his face in his hands, shaking his head before he gazed at Siobh mournfully. Harry got the impression that this conversation was meant to happen in a less..tense situation.

‘We were going to tell you once..once we felt you were old enough!,’ Ruadrí explained, sounding desperate. Siobh scoffed and tried to rub the tears from her eyes unsuccessfully.

‘I don’t know what to think of you..the p-people you’ve hurt! What..What did Mum even see in you!?’

‘That’s a question I’ve asked myself plenty of times too..,’ Ruadrí sighed, ‘..listen, it would be better for the both of you if you heard what I had to say. I’m not saying I should be forgiven, I shouldn’t be, but it will help you, Siobh, to try to figure out where we go from here..’

Harry found it hard to understand the end of his monologue but for Siobh it was easier. Either she decided she now hated her Father, or if she saw fit to give him another chance. Chewing the inside of her cheek and giving him several angry sideyes, she finally nodded. Ruadrí inhaled and interlocked his fingers, getting his words together. In the meantime, Siobh gestured for Harry to come and join her. The boy nodded behind them, indicating he was looking out for the assassins but Siobh shook her head, her eyes pleading with him to join her. She held up the flower he’d given her several hours ago, a couple of its remaining petals torn off by the blast that had destroyed the wagon.

Cara liom..

Harry got up and sat down with her as Ruadrí began to speak.

‘..I had been with the Men of Tuireann for a couple of years before I met Derbhla. I’d killed, yes, you had to if you needed to survive with them,’ he explained in-between Siobh’s frequent sniffles, ‘It sounds ridiculous, I know it will, but each death weighed on me. The others told me this was natural..that over time I’d become accustomed to killing. I never fought the idea, because I feared death and I was a coward.

‘Eventually, they told me to go and kill a prominent member of the Fianna. If you remember, Harry, there was a War between the Men of Tuireann and the Fianna. Siobh mentioned it a couple of days ago. Anyway, the Leaders hoped that the killing of this man inside his own Fort would provoke some sort of infighting, since the alliances formed between rival Fianna were..tense’

‘But..But why y-you?,’ Harry murmured, Siobh busy absorbing all this information, ‘If you were new..weren’t y-you?’

‘I was still fresh alright, I’d only been a member for a year and a half. Our more skilled killers were known to the Fianna, and would have found it difficult to enter the Fort. And..well, there were doubts about my commitment to the cause. I realised when I was scouting that it would be impossible to escape without cutting down countless in my way..they wanted to test my metal as an assassin..’

‘..and you failed..,’ Siobh breathed, gripping her knees, ‘Y-You’ve both told m-me this story..’

‘Yes, outside the tent of one warrior, I saw a young woman milking a heffer. With the excuse of asking about my target, I approached and for the next hour found myself taken in by her wit and good looks..,’ Ruadrí said dreamily, slipping into the past.

‘Don’t sugar coat it..,’ Siobh muttered, though the smallest of smiles fluttered across her face, ‘Ye-Ye always told that..that you were just a-a messenger!’

‘I told her that as cover, but I really was, Siobh,’ Ruadrí replied, ‘A messenger of death. Yes, I know, I know!,’ he added quickly, throwing up his hands at the girl's eye roll, ‘That really is what they called us sometimes! And..And it is what your Mother called me when she figured out the truth..’

‘Y-You told her..?,’ Harry asked, Siobh whispering the question to him as she neither had the patience nor the energy to ask. To their surprise, Ruadrí shook his head, looking at the map quickly before he clicked his fingers to reroute the oars.

‘No, I may have had my feelings but I never let them get to my head. Derbhla figured it out when I was skulking around the camp for more than a week. She asked around and when it became clear no one was expecting me, the Fianna realised I was an assassin. I would have been killed..if Derbhla hadn’t summoned me to her tent that evening and bundled me into her chest of clothes..’

He paused, perhaps hoping in vain that the last part would elicit a laugh from one of the children. Instead, Harry just looked nervous and Siobh continued to regard her Father coldly. Not as coldly as before, but clearly still very upset with him. Ruadrí exhaled and passed a bloody hand through his spiky hair before he clicked his fingers to fix the oars again.

‘..Your Mother told me that I had two options; either I agreed to tell the Fianna where the assassins were massing, or she would dump me out covered in her underwear for them to find me..’

‘..and you were a coward,’ Siobh finished. Ruadrí nodded, gazing at his hands. Finally, Harry saw that the blood seemed to be seeping from them at a slow, yet steady pace, splattering all over the deck of the ship. Ruadrí closed his eyes and formed his hands into fists, before he put them over the side and washed them off in the sea once more. Harry watched the blood slowly fade into the grey waters, while Siobh inhaled and managed to ask her Father a question.

‘So no prizes for saying you were cursed for giving up the assassins?’

‘By the Fianna, yes. The Men of Tuireann were too busy being burned out of the forests or being killed on the battlefields. The information I gave was crucial, so there was a small movement to let me off. Not that they just let me walk free, I was rotting in a cell for the two months they decided, but eventually I was released. They cursed me with always having blood on my hands and never pardoned me for-’

‘-Will-Will bringing me home f-fix your h-hands?,’ Harry asked quickly before he closed his mouth. Ruadrí opened his, thought for a moment, then also closed it and shrugged. Harry felt Siobh take his hand and looked up to see that her face had become flush with anger.

‘Y-You were just u-using him!?’

‘Never,’ Ruadrí replied sharply, ‘Your Mother and I talked about contacting the Gatekeepers the night Harry arrived,’ he explained before his tone softened, ‘..but we decided against it. You had both become friends, and we believed the Men of Tuireann were too few to pose a threat. After all, they had never attacked us-’

‘-Wait! Wait! Wh-What about Mum!?,’ Siobh exclaimed, jumping to her feet, ‘If-If they-!’

‘Siobh, I would never have left Derbhla behind if I thought she’d be in danger,’ Ruadrí cut in, ‘She changed my life, and by the way, when we first met we weren’t far from a war zone. Many of the Fianna didn’t bring their families, but your Grandfather brought her. She’s tough, and the assassins wouldn’t have been able to keep it to themselves, even the smarter ones like Oisin..’

It was truly something that Siobh was able to gulp back any accusatory words and nod quickly. Then, she moved off and began to pace the boat, arms behind her back and muttering to herself. Ruadrí knew she was coming to terms with everything she had told him, and glanced at Harry as the boy stood up. He moved a little closer and leaned against the mast, twiddling his fingers.

‘D-Derbhla gave-gave me this..,’ he murmured, retrieving the silver coin from his pocket. Derbhla had given it to him before they had left Siobh’s home, something that felt like years ago now.

‘M-Maybe she could help us..?,’ Harry asked, though he trailed off at Ruadrí’s grave look. He put out a hand for the coin, though Harry only compiled when he looked back at Siobh, who nodded quickly.

‘There’s no need for that,’ Ruadrí assured, placing the coin carefully inside his cloak, ‘Brigit willing, Derbhla will not need to come looking for us, but if she does then it would be a bad day to be an assassin, I can promise that much!’

Siobh regarded her Father for a moment, while Harry nodded and closed his eyes. He was so, so tired and still quite shaken up from the attack on the Ceilí Hall. Not even the thought of his imminent reunion with his family could settle him, and that’s when Harry, like his friend, felt his stomach drop.

‘My Mum a-and my s-sister..,’ Harry murmured, ‘If-If the assassins get t-that base in-in Trollberg..then what?’

Ruadrí leaned back, studying the sky above them. It was getting brighter now, and the grim grey waters of the Iron Sea were becoming a pale silver as the Sun began to rise. As it did, Harry’s eyes narrowed at something in the distance and he approached the bow cautiously. Ruadrí shifted aside and looked over his shoulder, and quickly noticed it himself. A wide, black mass with thundering grey clouds swirling around it ominously. They were still a bit of a ways off for now, but this was Harry’s first ever glimpse of the Isle of Trollberg, though whatever excitement he may have felt was punctured when Siobh called out behind them.

‘Guys..we have company!,’ she exclaimed, rooting about the storage in the back. She’d noticed a spyglass earlier, and now used it to get a better view of those following them. Sure enough, it was the Men of Tuireann, who had raised a blooded cape in place of the bright orange standard on top of the mast. Up at the front, his brown hair blowing madly in the breeze, stood Oisin. Seemingly unaffected by the speed of their vessel, the Leader moved his head slightly and stared into the spyglass. He smiled and waved calmly, and Siobh quickly shifted to the other passengers. Two of the assassins were rowing furiously and she instantly recognised the shape of Harry’s Father before the Sun's rays intruded and blinded her.

Taking away the spyglass, Siobh could tell that the assassins were definitely closer than before and hurried back towards the others. Ruadrí had been pouring over the map, trying to quickly figure out just how far they had to go. Finally he closed his eyes and rolled it up, stuffing the parchment inside his cloak.

‘I need you two to work with me!,’ he ordered, rushing to the mast and adjusting the sail before he tossed the rope to Harry, ‘Harry! When I give the signal you pull that rope as hard as you can! Siobh! I need you to work with me so we can keep the distance!’

‘I-I couldn’t compete with how fast they’re going!’

‘Those thugs have strength, but we have lightwork and we both know nothing compares to that!,’ Ruadrí assured quickly, ‘Quick now! Pick an oar, ready your fingers and each time I say go give them a snap! Hurry now! I know you haven’t decided about me yet, but you won’t get to decide if they catch us in the open water!’

Siobh listened and was by an oar in moments, closing her eyes and focusing on the words of the mysterious woodswitch they’d met last night. Behind, Oisin leaned forward hungrily as their targets slowed. One eye closed, he aimed his finger his towards the mast of the ship, poised to snap it in two when he heard Ruadrí shout over the crash of the waves,

‘GO!’

Both he and Siobh snapped their fingers simultaneously, causing the oars to spin rapidly and them to take off, rapidly widening the distance between them and the assassins. They bounced along the water, which had become solid at their speed and Harry had to grip the rope Ruadrí had thrown him for dear life. His frail form wasn’t enough to adjust the sail, but he was barely able to keep his feet on the ground. Siobh was less lucky, and her life flashed before her eyes when she felt herself become airborne. Thankfully, Ruadrí reacted quickly and grabbed his daughter by the wrist, pulling her down safely.

‘They’re using lightwork to stay ahead of us!,’ Oisin snarled, stepping back from the bow, ‘Tuireann!,’ he snapped to the remaining assassin at the back of the ship, ‘Help me take over from the others and woe betide you if we fail to keep pace!,’ he threatened. Tadgh and the female assassin, Tuireanna, retreated to regain their stamina. However, Tadgh collapsed onto his back, taking gulps of air just as Oisin and Tuireann unleashed their lightwork on the oars. The sudden addition of Tadgh’s weight caused their ship to turn dramatically and was some miracle that they didn’t capsize. Furious, Oisin grabbed Tadgh by the scruff of his neck while the others frantically readjusted, before he composed himself and let go.

‘My apologies..,’ he breathed, moving to the bow and narrowing his eyes at the boat ahead of him. Oisin wouldn’t admit it, but he’d underestimated Ruadrí by thinking he wouldn’t have pulled something like that on them. No matter, Oisin thought to himself, no matter! They had four grown adults powering their ship, while Ruadrí only had his two brats. And as the Isle of Trollberg grew closer, Siobh was quickly running out of energy.

‘Ugh..my..my side..!,’ she gasped, stumbling towards the mast and wrapping both her arms around it so steady herself. Ruadrí regarded her sympathetically only for a moment, as he stepped into the middle and snapped both his fingers at the oars, keeping up the momentum. But Harry could see that he was also running out of energy, red in the face and sucking up the salt water from his fingers. Yet he gave Harry a hopeful wink and a smile, with the boy tightening his grip on the rope. Ruadrí was sure they would still make it, why shouldn’t he be?

As they moved closer to the Isle the waves had begun to become rough around them. East blast that both Ruadrí and the assassins could muster resulted in increasingly perilous landings on the thrashing sea, with Harry becoming soaked as he remained diligently at his post. The assassins weren’t much better off, with Tadgh being lashed from both sides as he was forced to centre himself to keep the boat balanced. Tuireanna was working with Oisin now, as the other assassin was also becoming exhausted.

Ruadrí had managed to keep the distance so far, but the waves had started to become higher and higher as they approached the Isle. Harry had tried to make out any features past the swirling clouds, but so far had seen nothing. As Siobh mustered enough energy for one last snap of lightwork on the oars, the Island suddenly shot upwards when Harry slipped on impact with the sea and hit the deck face first. A sharp pain shot through his nose and Harry felt the blood soak his top as Siobh scrambled towards him.

‘HARRY! A-ARE YOU-!?’

She was cut off by a tall wave crashing into the side of the ship. Siobh covered Harry and took the brunt of it, allowing him to get a hold on his injury when the boat suddenly tilted downwards. Ruadrí slid toward them, however he was forced to veer to the side to avoid hitting the children. Siobh felt the seconds slide to a halt as her Father went past them, locking eyes with him. The ship was hurtling towards the water below like a rocket, but Ruadrí was going faster. If he hit the surface followed by the boat..then..

An assassin..

a murderer..

yet…

…’Wah! H-Help! HELP ME!!,’ she cried, barely holding onto the branch. She’d climbed the tallest tree in their front garden to try and prove something to herself, but that hadn’t been enough. Sat on one of its thick branches, she’d swung herself upside down in an effort to pull herself back up the top. However, she’d lost her grip and was just barely clinging on for dear life. Her fingertips were starting to hurt and each attempt she made to try and pull herself failed, making things all the more dangerous..

‘HELP!!,’ she cried, sobbing now, ‘SOMEONE!! H-HELP-!!

‘-Uan!’

‘D-Dad! Dad help! W-What do I..!?’

‘Let go!’

‘WHAT!?’

‘Let go! I’ll catch you!,’ her Father called up confidently, ‘Trust me, Siobh!’

With a breath, she scrunched her eyes shut and did as she was told. The air rushed past her, her cloak billowing in the wind as she counted the seconds. One..two..then-!’

She hit not the cold, hard ground, but her Father’s warm gloves. Everything came rushing back at once and she started crying again. As he soothed her, he sat down against the tree and stared up at the branch above them. Then he laughed softly and ruffled her hair as she got a hold of herself and sat next to him.

‘S-Sorry..I g-got confident..’

‘There’s nothing wrong with being confident, Siobh,’ her Father assured, ‘I’ve been in over my head plenty of times in life, and I’m sure you will be too! But right now, you’re young, and your Mum and I will always be there to catch you from whatever tree you fall out of!,’ he laughed, and she rested her head against his shoulder, before she closed her eyes..

…Siobh reached out and grabbed her Father by the wrist, holding him tightly. With what remained of her strength, she managed to pull him enough for Ruadrí to grab the mast, just as the boat shook violently when the bow crashed into the water. There was no time for words, if they could even have been heard of the sound of the waves all around them. A shadow had appeared from above, none other than the assassin's vessel! Oisin had ordered them to stop when their targets disappeared over the mighty wave, then threatened each of them into snapping at the oars all at once.

It worked, albeit a little too well. The terrifying power of the assassins not only caused the ship to go flying up this latest obstacle, but over the top of it as well. Tadgh resisted the urge to follow Tuireanna to the side, knowing there was a risk he could spin them all over and into the waves below.

‘TUIREANNA! AIM FOR THEIR MAST! THEIR RIGGING! ANYWHERE!,’ Oisin roared, the waves almost drowning out his voice. Tadgh spun around furiously, reaching around the mast to grab Oisin. The Leader couldn’t resist, as their situation meant one wrong movement could result in him going overboard. Tadgh pulled him in close and leered at him, in much the same way he would do with Harry back in Holyhead.

‘YOU WILL NOT DESTROY MY LEGACY!!,’ he screamed, Oisin closing his eyes as the spit flecked his face. He tried to pull himself free if Tadgh’s grip, but it was like iron and the man pulled him in closer in response, his small, angry eyes staring into Oisin's soul.

‘Are you trying to kill my son?,’ he hissed.

‘I'm trying to save him,’ Oisin replied coldly, ‘If we don't stop that ship now, the waves will swallow it whole! You will be denied your legacy, and I will be denied the satisfaction of killing Ruadrí! Now let go before I-!’

The howling wind cut him off when it shook the boat violently and threw the assassins off their feet. All four were able to grab onto the mast or rigging, but Tadgh’s weight meant that once he took hold, the boat was pulled forwards and upside down. Behind them, Ruadrí and the children weren’t faring much better, having barely had time to recover from the tidal wave when the typhoon pulled them in. Both Harry and Siobh clung to Ruadrí’s front in terror as he just managed to grab their mast, wrapping his arms and legs around it tightly. Siobh’s hand found Harry’s and she practically crushed it in her grip, though the boy didn’t have the voice to shout out. Tears forcing themselves out of his shut eyes and streaming upwards, the terror Harry found himself in was indescribable, with Ruadrí’s desperate reassurances being lost to the unrelenting gale.

The wind shot through his ruptured eardrum and whirled around his frightened mind, intermixed with the groans of pain coming from Siobh. Gripping Ruadrí’s shirt so tightly that he was beginning to feel his fingers tear through the thread, Harry began to give into despair. Even if the gale didn’t pull them from the boat, what were the chances they would survive coming through on the other side, if there even was one? What if the way to Trollberg had been cursed, dooming those reckless enough to an endless cycle of despair-?

A blinding light overtook them and in an instant the wind stopped. Harry gasped and felt his stomach shoot upwards as the boat began to fall rapidly. It tipped forward, but Ruadrí managed to swivel himself around in just the nick of time. Harry felt Siobh somehow squeeze his hand harder, and only had a second to brace for impact-

THUD

His body shook violently, and then Harry found himself thrown sideways as the boat momentarily became airborne again, before it tilted to the left and the mast ploughed into the ground. Unable to take the pressure, it snapped in two and the top half cracked off the back of the boat, again shaking the children to their core. They were jostled about as the boat bounced over an even surface, tearing up the terrain behind it, before another solid thud finally, finally stopped the vessel completely. Ruadrí exhaled and after a quick look around, let go of the mast. The three of them tumbled down and landed in some soft dirt, the sunlight warming their faces or the back of their hair.

They had done it. They had survived.

‘Harry..!,’ Siobh gasped, pulling him to his feet, ‘We-We MADE IT!,’ she cried happily, pulling him up into a hug as Ruadrí struggled to his feet beside them. He drew his sword immediately, shattering Harry and Siobh’s elation as he spun around taking in their surroundings. They were in a farmers field, Harry getting an intense sense of deja vu on seeing some frightened cattle regarding them suspiciously. Ruadrí ushered them out from under the ship, but they hadn’t even gotten a quarter of the way across the field when Oisin’s voice froze them in their tracks.

‘Running again, coward?,’ he mocked, though his anger was thinly veiled as he jumped down from the top of their boat. He appeared injured, though it was impossible to tell given he still sported the injuries from the Ceilí hall. Ruadrí swallowed when he saw two others, a man and a woman appear by his side. The man appeared to be limping, though he was clearly still set on combat as he drew his sword. Eyes darting around for Tadgh, Ruadrí spotted him heaving himself over the fence to their right. Oisin drew his blade, and Ruadrí knew he only had a minute, more likely less.

‘Harry, Siobh, go. I’ll take care of this,’ he ordered, angling his sword towards the ground.

‘Wh-What..!?,’ Harry stammered, Siobh already pulling him away. After last night, she had figured that this was how things were going to end, but her heart was heavy as she cast a look back at her Father. Tadgh had gotten over the fence by now, though Ruadrí snapped at the ground in front of him, causing the dirt to explode in his face. Cursing, Tadgh was stopped momentarily and bought them extra seconds as Oisin raised his sword to the sky, grinning like a maniac.

‘If they aren’t stopped here then all of this will be pointless!,’ Ruadrí exclaimed, ‘Get to the woods and run! Quickly!,’ he snapped, turning his head and the look in his eye was enough to finally kick Harry’s legs into the gear. He and Siobh bolted for the other side of the field, and Tadgh thundered after them like an angry bull. Ruadrí aimed another shot as he charged past, and while Tadgh stumbled, he didn’t fall. It was all Ruadrí could do; if he turned, the assassins would pounce and the fight would end before it could begin.

‘An admirable act of heroism, but your hands remain stained, Ruadrí!,’ Oisin called over, ‘With the blood of the Tuatha and Tuireann’s both! No act of murder, no act of pleasure..nothing will ever compare to my sword slitting your throat!,’ he hissed, mostly talking to himself as his mocking tone degraded into one of hate and bloodlust. The sweat fast forming on his brow, Ruadrí drove his feet into the ground, holding his sword close to his face. A raven flew low above them, its cry cut the silence, before it slowly faded away into the distance.

And in unison, with a terrifying battle cry, Oisin and the Men of Tuireann finally launched themselves at their target. Before the clash of steel could tear away at his thoughts, Ruadrí thought of Derbhla and Siobh for what could be the last time, and with a grin, he propelled himself forward.

Chapter Text

Hilda gripped her seat belt tightly as Johanna raced along the motorway back from Newgrange, overtaking even at the slightest opportunity. For the entire trip neither of them had said a word, Hilda absorbing the revelation of her Father’s abuse towards Harry and Johanna razor-focused on getting them back to the port in Dublin as quickly as possible. However, they soon realised on reaching Dublin that they had one, major problem.

‘You..You couldn't make an exception?,’ Johanna asked the woman at the check in to the ferry. She was greeted with a deadpan expression and firm shake of the head. The attendant clicked a button, and the exit barrier juttered upwards.

‘No tickets, no entry,’ she explained, ‘If you can, call someone at home and get them to bring them to you. We've still got another hour,’ before she waved them off and Johanna drove dejectedly through the exit. Hilda felt her heart sink, as they swung around into a car park and drove around aimlessly trying to find a spot. Once they trundled into one, Johanna exhaled and her head fell forward, gripping the steering wheel tightly as Hilda stared at her in dismay.

‘..Mum?,’ she asked weakly, ‘W-What are we gonna do..?’

No response. Hilda collapsed back into her chair, eyes filling with tears as Twig poked his head out from the back to lick her cheek worriedly. Totally lost, Hilda pushed him away, burying her face in her hands. There was nothing they could do..their only option was to wait, and that would mean giving the wicked assassins pursuing Harry a massive head start.

Alfur looked up from wiping his eyes to see Johanna reach out slowly and shake Hilda from her melancholy. The girl turned her head, sniffling uncontrollably and Johanna offered her some tissues. Once her daughter had managed to get a hold of herself again, Johanna rested in her chair, arms folded and gathering her words.

‘We need to call Kaisa’

‘R-Right..she did s-say that..,’ Hilda murmured shakily, ‘But..But we'll have to-to find a phone..,’ she breathed, looking all around her, but Alfur saw Johanna smile and shake her head. Reaching underneath her seat, she grabbed a key and passed it to Hilda, who quickly put it together that it was for the glove box in front of them. With a clunk, it opened, and out fell a smooth, black object. Wiping her eyes in surprise, Hilda picked it up and on feeling the keyboard on the other side, glanced at her Mum for an explanation.

‘It was meant to be a surprise for your thirteenth birthday,’ Johanna explained, ‘It's a phone that you can carry around in your pocket, and right now it's our one chance at getting back to Trollberg’

Hilda handed the phone over for her Mum to tinker with wordlessly, feeling beyond spoiled. She'd heard about handheld phones from David and Frida, David in particular had spoken about them with an air of myth. It couldn't have been easy, nor cheap, for her Mum to get her hands on one.

‘Alright..,’ Johanna breathed, ‘It's on, now let me just try the Library's phone number..,’ she murmured. To Hilda and Alfur, the situation was closer to diffusing a bomb than making a simple phone call. If Johanna couldn't get through to Trollberg..

The phone began to dial gently and Johanna held it up to her ear with a heart pounding anticipation. Hers in her throat, Hilda watched as the phone continued to dial..and dial..and dial..

Then..

Johanna breathed a sigh of relief and gave Hilda thumbs up, a wide, though exhausted grin on her face. Her daughter collapsed against the car door and Alfur wiped the sweat from his tiny brow, while Twig hopped around the back seats happily, even if he didn't really understand what was going on.

‘Yes..Yes..we’re fine..no, he isn't with us, he's going to Trollberg. Yes, really, I'll explain everything once we get back but I..I need to speak with Ms. Pilqvist. Still resting-? Wait? Kaisa? Kaisa..helloo..,’ Johanna was saying, glancing at the phone worriedly until she pressed it back to her ear at the sound of her mentor's voice.

‘Yes, deary, I'm quite alright,’ Tildy assured, glancing at Kaisa apologetically as the woman picked herself from a heap on the floor. Tildy had been resting in the Library after herself and Kaisa's all-night quest to learn everything they could about the Tuatha de Danann, the meagre results of which Kaisa had presented a day or so ago.

‘Yes, of course I can do that,’ Kaisa heard her mentor say as she nursed her head, ‘Oh, well of course it will, and I'll need a few minutes of prep first. No, Johanna, there's no other way, either we get you back quickly or we don’t. Really, deary, I'm asking you to be selfish for once! I'll hand you back to Kaisa now!,’ Tildy said quickly before she left the phone dangling off the cord. Kaisa quickly retrieved it, watching as the elder Witch vanished everything in the room with a wave of her hand.

‘Kaisa, Hilda says she wants to talk,’ she heard Johanna say on the other end.

‘Oh, of course!,’ the Librarian replied, though before Johanna handed the phone to her daughter, she gave her a stern ultimatum.

‘Don't say anything about the Gatekeeper or what Harry's been through,’ she ordered, ‘I'll..I’ll tell them that part myself,’ shebreathed and Hilda nodded quietly before she took the phone and held it to her ear. She instinctively reached for a cord to wind through her fingers, but found nothing.

‘A handheld? For your birthday? Your friends will be so jealous of you Hildy!,’ Kaisa said happily, ‘Now `Anna will be able to..to call you anywhere in the world!,’ She finished awkwardly. Hilda looked at her Mum and frowned, hoping that she wouldn't be bombarded with phone calls if she was ever out too late. Meanwhile, Kaisa continued to watch Tildy when they both jumped at the sound of books falling off the shelf. There was a squawk and the panicked flapping of wings, and to her shock Kaisa saw that it was a raven.

‘The Great Raven,’ Tildy revealed casually, returning to the slow series of hand movements and stances she was conducting with closed eyes, ‘He has news, Kaisa’

‘I didn't know there was an entrance there..,’ the Librarian murmured, allowing Raven to hop up onto her shoulder. He chirped something to himself in response, sounding miffed.

‘Witches..so secretive you guys don't even tell each other what you know!’

‘Hush!,’ Tildy interjected, ‘I'm almost done here..’

‘What's she doing?,’ Raven whispered to Kaisa, covering his mouth with one wing. The woman held up a finger for him to wait before she spoke to Hilda on the other end. The girl had been calling for her worriedly, having picked up on the sound of books hitting the floor.

‘Yes, yes, we’re fine,’ Kaisa assured, ‘We’ll see you and `Anna here shortly, ok? Ok, ok..yes, tell `Anna I said goodbye too, ok..ok, bye bye!’

She hung up and studied the bird for a moment, unsure how much to let him in on, before she remembered his words from a minute ago and decided that there was no harm.

‘Hildy and her Mum are looking for her brother,’ Kaisa revealed, ‘It's a long story..but we believe that he's coming here to Trollberg right now! Tildy is preparing a spell to bring Hildy and `Anna back now, then we'll know-’

‘You won't have time to know!,’ the bird interjected frantically, having become more and more anxious as Kaisa had gone on, ‘I..I was flying over Tofoten when I heard this massive crash! Some boats had landed in this farmers field and I saw-!,’ before he was cut off by a massive flash of white energy. Shielding their eyes, Kaisa peeked through her fingers to see a large green portal, with Tildy having her arms spread wide to keep it open. Much to her concern, Kaisa saw that her mentor was shaking, and it looked like she was about to collapse when two figures and a Deerfox came rushing through the opening. Once she saw that Hilda and Johanna were back safely, Tildy crossed her arms in a fluid motion, closing the portal before she fell to her knees.

‘Tildy!,’ Johanna cried as she and Kaisa hurried to her side, but the woman waved them off, coughing as she did.

‘There's no..no time..,’ She gasped, ‘They're here..Harry is-is here and..’

‘Raven! What did you see!?,’ Kaisa demanded, spinning her head to look at him as Hilda’s eyes shot from Tildy to Raven and back again, while Johanna felt her heart leap into her throat.

‘People with swords..it looked like they were about to fight! I flew here to ask the Witches for help but..but I didn't know that there was a kid involved!’

‘You need to move..!,’ Tildy breathed, having been helped to the armchair by Johanna, ‘You..You have no time!,’ she exclaimed as Kaisa glanced at Hilda, ‘Take Raven and..and fly to Tofoten!’

‘But Ms. Pilqvist-!’

‘Johanna..,’ the woman sighed, before she smiled wearily, pushing her glasses up her nose, ‘..please..just be selfish for once! Harry needs you, the both of you..now in heaven's name just GO!’
_____________

‘GET BACK HERE YOU USELESS WRETCH!!,’ Tadgh screamed, barrelling through the woods after Harry and Siobh, slicing and shouldering his way through branches, or in some cases letting him tear at him remorselessly. The children were barely able to keep ahead of him, the sounds of clashing steel that was Ruadrí’s fight with the assassins having long disappeared from their ringing ears. Tears streaming down his face, Harry was suddenly pulled right by Siobh when they arrived at a crossroads in the trail. It gave them some much needed seconds, but Tadgh was no fool.

‘I CAN SENSE YOU, RAT!,’ He shouted, ‘I CAN SMELL YOUR FEAR! I'LL DO WHATEVER IT TAKES TO MAKE SOMETHING OUT OF YOU!,’ before with only a few momentous strides the children were back in his sights. And to their horror, Harry and Siob found themselves in a clearing with no discernable way out. With Tadgh’s manic laughter echoing around their shattered minds, Siobh was able to grab a rock on the ground and flung it at Harry’s abuser. It missed her target, his head, but it still struck him painfully in the shoulder. Tadgh staggered, and it gave enough time for the children to dart into a nearby bush. Undeterred, Tadgh stomped into the clearing, nursing his shoulder as his small eyes darted around the clearing for any sign of his quarry; a predator hunting their prey..

‘You little bitch..miserable, stupid girl..,’ he hissed bitterly, ‘Once I have Harry and the assassins kill your Father..oh, yes, I think I know how I'll punish him..,’ Tadgh threatened darkly, ‘..a blow to the head, a rock to the shoulder..I can inflict that tenfold! TENFOLD! YA HEAR ME!? BRATS!?,’ he snapped, whirling about the clearing.

Trembling in their hiding spot, the children didn’t dare to move, in case any sound alerted Tadgh to their location. To Siobh, it seemed he had gone completely mad, and she held Harry’s wrist on seeing a rare anger grace the boy's face, putting a finger to her lips. Harry closed his fist and his eyes, taking a deep breath as Tadgh remained in his spot, roaring, shouting and swearing. Finally, his lungs gave out and the man doubled over, but managed to contain the contents of his stomach, whatever was there at least. Because, Tadgh realised, he hadn’t eaten a proper meal in days.

‘I know you’re still here, runt,’ he hissed through his gritted teeth, ‘I might not have looks but I have my senses! You know that this is how it's meant to be, Harry! It doesn’t matter if you find your Mother and your precious little sister..,’ Tadgh sneered, ‘I’ll find you..all of you! Ah yes, dear Johanna..I wonder, Harry, how about a family reunion?,’ Tadgh chuckled, moving to the centre of the clearing. Peering out, Siobh was about to tug her friend for them to move, before she froze when Tadgh’s wicked eyes fell on them.

‘Perhaps we’ll pay a visit to your Mother, darling Johanna..,’ Tadgh continued, malice dripping off every word he spoke, ‘..and I’ll show you just how pathetic she really is-!’

‘NO!’

‘HARRY!’

The boy leapt from the bush in a fury before Siobh could stop him and got three rapid snaps off at his Father. Tadgh blocked the first and second attempt as he advanced, but the third one got past him and struck him in the face. His noise again broken, Tadgh’s fury raised its head and he snapped his fingers towards Harry’s shoulder, aiming to break it. Siobh, however, threw herself from the bush and knocked Harry down, Tadgh’s attack causing their hiding spot to explode in a mess of brambles and branches, which the quick thinking Siobh used to fling at Tadgh. With a second to spare, she grabbed Harry’s arm and they scrambled back through the hedge.

‘HAARRYY!!,’ Tadgh raged, tearing after them like a wild animal. After a desperate race around some tightly packed trees, Harry and Siobh emerged back onto the flattened grass track. They were forced to take the predictable right turn; otherwise they would have ended up going back towards the assassins and Tadgh knew this as well. Closer than ever, he was almost in swiping distance of Siobh’s cloak as they came to a corner. Harry felt his friend push him forwards, giving him a boost that allowed him to pick up the pace. In fact, it propelled him forward so much that his Father’s heavy footsteps began to fade from his ears.

He turned to give a hopeful look to Siobh, then stopped dead.

Siobh was nowhere to be seen, and Harry quickly picked up on the sound of snapping a small distance behind him, but just as he began to hurry back, it stopped. Harry skidded to a halt, and he felt the colour drain from his face when he heard his Father’s footsteps. Feeling a hundred different emotions cascade over him, Harry staggered back and forced himself to run, trying not to sob. Up above, he caught sight of several, round fluffy things floating through the sky, their eerie howl accompanying him deeper into the forest…
______________________________________________

The sun, high in the sky, reflected off the swords of the assassins, often at distracting angles that dazzled attacks and allowed Ruadrí to duck and weave away from the assassins strikes. However, he was very much on the backfoot as he deflected the blade of Tuireanna only for Oisin to lunge in between them, just barely missing the tip of his nose. Circling around the battle was the short assassin, the last Tuireann, who was aiming Lightwork attacks at every conceivable opportunity. If he was to survive, Ruadrí knew that he could never turn his back to this man, lest he catch him off guard. The same went for Oisin and Tuireanna; Ruadrí could have tried to break through and strike at the third assassin, but knew he couldn’t show his back to the others.

And so this display went on long after the children and Tadgh had disappeared into the warren of woods, trails and clearings behind them. Parrying, snapping, blocking, kicking, punching and certainly goading. Oisin in particular was using his tongue just as much as he sword, pulling back to regain his energy as the nimble Tuireanna aimed a flurry of strikes towards Ruadrí’s chest, which he was just about able to deflect.

‘Do you feel the time slipping from your brow, Ruadrí?,’ he cackled, ‘How does it feel, that in the end your little adventure has heralded a new dawn for the Men of Tuireann! If only you had carried through with killing that Chieftain, then we still might have died as brothers!’

‘Don’t..Don’t tell me you’re getting sentimental now!,’ Ruadrí breathed, managing to trip Tuireanna up and send her face down into the dirt. He plunged his sword downward but was too slow and his foe instead rolled away with a surprising speed. Ruadrí caught a boot to the face before he could react, sending him onto his backside. Tuireanna closed the distance, but Ruadrí just managed to regain his senses and pulled left, swiping Tuireanna’s legs from under her. However, her sword cut into the top of his shoulder, cold steel mixing with white hit pain.

Drawing blood as he bit his tongue to try and get a handle on the pain, Ruadrí resorted to Lightwork. Oisin leapt at him hungrily and Tuireann also rushed forward. Ruadrí felt time slow, fighting his instincts to snap at them wildly. With a clear snap, he managed to blast Oisin in the chest, sending him flying backwards. Not daring to look at Tuireanna, he aimed a snap downwards and inhaled sharply when he heard her cry out, having hit her point-blank in the back.

Things sped back up just as quickly as they slowed down and Ruadrí just barely had time to react when Oisin threw hismelf at him again. However, in his fury Oisin’s blows had become sloppy. Ruadrí was just about able to parry, but almost slipped on realising that his back was now to Tuireann. In a bit of a panic, Ruadrí spun about to correct himself, however this turned out to be his saving grace. He had inadvertently sidestepped Oisin, who now engaged in a grinding lock of swords. His Leader in the firing line, there was nothing the other assassin could do.

‘Sentimental!? Hardly!,’ Oisin spat as both men put their weight into pushing the other back, ‘You took the only family I’d known and betrayed them to the Fianna! You are as much a kinslayer to me as you are to the rest of the Otherworld!’

‘Who was the one you only ever called brother? Me, Oisin! Me! And you don’t have the guts!,’ Ruadrí retorted, before locking eyes with him and putting his shoulder into the attack. He had come up with a plan, one that importantly didn’t mean his death if it failed. Mustering what remained of his strength, he managed to push Oisin over, Ruadrí planting his boot on his opponent's groin as he fell and propelling himself forwards towards the third assassin.

Time slowed again.

Stunned, the short man drew his sword and darted to Ruadrí’s as he landed. Their swords clashed, and the sweat bubbled from Ruadrí’s brow, counting every second before he quickly moved to the right. He had gambled on Tuireanna lunging at him the moment he got the better of Oisin, hoping the blow to her back would have slowed her enough. And, by some miracle, it all paid off.

Tuirenna, in her frenzy, was unable to stop her blow from carrying through and into the throat of her fellow assassin. There was choked gasp from the shorter man, who placed a hand on her side in surprise, before he vomited blood all over her front and he slumped against her. Unable to dislodge her sword in time, Tuireanna fell back on her Lightwork skills a second too light. Three of her fingers were severed as she made to form a snap at Ruadrí, who followed through and plunged his sword through her right side, straight into her right side. The air forced from her left her mouth in a shocked gasp, as a harrowing acceptance came over Tuireanna. Then, she collapsed, dying.

All of this occurred in less than a minute, as Oisin struggled to his feet, gasping as he struggled to recover from the crude blow Ruadrí had inflicted on him. He regarded the bodies of his fallen comrades, as Ruadrí stepped back for a much needed breather. Tuireanna used her rapidly fading strength to kick Tuireann off of her, before she curled up into a sort of foetal position.

‘Don’t..need..you on..me..,’ she muttered, as her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

‘..Don’t think I’m impressed,’ Oisin growled after a moment, ‘I can tell you’re surprised you managed to pull that off, and you’re a fool if you think that we’re the last of Tuireann’s name!,’ he exclaimed, stepping over the bodies. Ruadrí, somewhat pale, stepped back and assumed a stance, staring his old friend down.

‘Maybe, but you’re a fool if you think I’m letting you leave this Island alive!,’ he retorted, whirling back into the fray. Their swords clashed once more, as up above a raven cried out again, and a large shadow left both men in darkness for a moment, before it quickly disappeared.
________________________________________________

‘D-Do you see that!?,’ Hilda called over to her Mum through the rushing wind. Johanna quickly reached over and forcibly turned Hilda’s head away from the sight below, while Kaisa was sick over the side of Raven. They had taken off from the Library just ten minutes ago; Twig and Alfur had stayed behind with Tildy as compromise for Johanna and Kaisa leaving her behind.

‘Sorry if you guys saw that!,’ Raven called up, ‘I would’ve taken you guys through cloud cover if there had been any, but we don’t have a choice! I just hope they're on our side!’

‘They’ll have a lot more to worry about if they aren’t!,’ Johanna replied loudly, ‘For now just get us to Astrid’s and then start circling over the forest!,’ she ordered, as Hilda watched Kaisa worriedly while the Witch continued to struggle to contain her lunch.

‘Way ahead of you!,’ Raven called, flying low over the woods and sending leaves flying in all directions with the beat of his wings. His speed had slowed considerably, allowing the others a quick look over his side, and for Kaisa to be sick again. While unable to see past the thick trees, when they passed over the trails Hilda caught sight of something on the path. At first, she thought it was a dog due to the white she saw, but then caught a glimpse of the hair just as Raven passed over them. It was a person, lying face down and presumably injured. Remembering what the Gatekeepers had said about Harry travelling with a Father and daughter, Hilda quickly came to a conclusion; it had to be her.

‘Wait! Raven!,’ she cried, ‘T-There’s someone lying on the trail back there!’

‘I’ll circle back once I have you guys dropped off, kid!,’ the thunderbird replied, though he had a feeling his words had had little effect on Hilda. Johanna and Kaisa felt the same way, and Johanna tapped Raven’s back urgently for him to speed up. Hilda saw this, and flashed her Mum a guilty smile.

‘Sorry..but Harry wouldn’t want us to leave his friend there!

Before Johanna could even form an objection, Hilda broke for Raven’s wing, out of her Mum’s reach in seconds. Feeling the grips of Hilda’s boots tickle his feathers, Raven flew lower and with a tip of his wing, soon felt the girl slide down. Some leaves shot into the air as she disappeared into the treetops, and Johanna was too stunned to try and catch her with magic, Kaisa too nauseous. Staring back as Raven glimpsed the building that she had described in the distance, Johanna gripped his feathers tightly with both her hands.

‘Y-You didn’t..’

‘I didn’t want an argument breaking out,’ the thunderbird replied casually, ‘She’s fine, she probably wouldn’t want me telling you this but she’s fallen off weather spirits before!’

‘I know all about that one,’ Johanna muttered as Kaisa continued to stare ahead in blank surprise and to keep her stomach steady, ‘Don’t shrink when we get to Astrid’s, Raven..I might just strangle you..’

Back behind, Hilda managed to untangle herself from the shrub that she had landed in. She’d covered her face before hitting the top of the tree and had gone mostly uninjured there, though her jumper and tights and obviously suffered. Pulling some branches from hair and ignoring the ones she’d brush out later, Hilda looked about briefly before finding the angle that Raven had come from and retracing her steps. Pushing her way through the foliage with grim determination, Hilda allowed briefly for the possibility that she could be wrong, that this person could in fact be dangerous. It may even be her Father, but Hilda would soon push that possibility from her mind when she found the path and made her way up it cautiously.

After a couple minutes of walking cautiously next to the treeline in case she had to hide herself, Hilda found who she was looking for, and it certainly wasn’t him. What she had thought was the white coat of a dog was actually a cloak, and what was clearly a girl was splayed out before her. Thinking quickly, Hilda moved and rolled her onto her side, only to be greeted by an awful sight. The girl's face was bloodied, her nose shifted to one side. Shuddering to think that her Father had done this, Hilda shook herself back into reality and moved around, rolling the girl onto their opposite side, facing away from her. For a moment Hilda was gripped by an uncertainty, before she steeled herself and delivered some smacks to the girls back with her flat palm. This, she hoped, would loosen any blood in her system, before she lay her on her back again.

‘Right..,’ she murmured, rolling up her sleeves, ‘If I wake you up, thank Raven Leader, not me!,’ she grinned anxiously, before she placed her hands in the middle of the girl's chest and began to perform CPR. Pushing with the heel of her hand, Hilda began to sweat a little, feeling the minutes slip by and her anxiety began to grow when she thought she heard the girl breathe slightly. Hilda kept on, and after another couple of minutes the girl’s eyes fluttered, before she gasped and shot up, taking huge gulps of air and looked around frantically. When her eyes finally settled on Hilda, instead of the thank you she had been expecting, Hilda was rather grabbed by the scruff of her jumper.

‘HEY! What’re ya doin-!?’

‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?,’ the girl interjected angrily, ‘YOUR FATHER IS..!’

She stopped and her eyes darted all over Hilda’s appearance, before they went wide and she let go of her jumper. Patting the ground for something without taking her eyes off Hilda, the girl eventually placed her hands on her knees, gripping them tightly as she continued to inhale deep breaths.

‘H-Harry’s sister..you’re-you’re Harry’s sister..!’ she breathed. Hilda nodded quickly, standing up and offering a hand. Initially the girl didn’t accept, but when she struggled she took a hold of it and Hilda helped her to her feet. Sensing that she wouldn’t get far on her own, Hilda put an arm around her waist to help, something the girl again hesitated to cooperate with before she put a hand around Hilda’s shoulder to support herself, Hilda holding onto her hand.

‘Harry’s sister..,’ she murmured again.

‘I..I am..,’ Hilda sniffed, ‘What’s your name? Are you Ruadrees daughter?,’ she asked, the girl titterring slightly as her pronunciation as they went slowly along the path.

‘Y-Yeah..,’ she hiccupped, ‘I-I’m Siobh..I’m..I’m so s-sorry!,’ she sobbed suddenly, ‘I-I couldn’t d-defend him..!’

‘You tried, t-that’s all that matters..,’ Hilda breathed, before she spared a glance at the girl's injured face once again. Siobh was licking her fingers and wiping the blood off her face where it could be felt, though her aim was off in some places.

‘There’s some there..and on your cheek too..,’ Hilda said slowly, pointing gently. Siobh hiccupped and nodded, and with Hilda’s help managed to clean up her face. Meanwhile Hilda summoned the courage to try and ask what had happened to her.

‘Who..Who did this t-to you? Was..Was it an assassin?’

‘He-He's not an assassin yet..but he-he's just as bad..,’ Siobh murmured, before she seemed to hesitate and shook her head. Hilda felt her stomach sink into a bottomless void at her words and their march ground to a halt. Her Father. He had been the one who had done this to Siobh, a girl the same age as her, maybe younger. Hilda sniffled and they pushed on, Siobh regarding her mournfully.

‘Sorry..I..I don't k-know how to-to tell you..’

‘I knew already..you can tell my Mum more soon’ Hilda murmured, looking at Siobh before she stared up the track ahead of them. She could make out something in the dirt, large footprints that were some ways apart from one another. Whoever had made them had to have been running, taking great leaps and bounds after whatever, or whoever, they had been chasing…
_________

Chest burning, heart racing and his lungs begging for air despite his gasps, Harry skidded out onto a new fork in the path and was immediately paralysed by indecision. His Father was almost certainly still on his tail, having gone nearly completely silent, something that was somehow more terrifying than him screaming his son's name like a banshee. Already, Harry could pick up on his heavy footsteps coming down the track, and was about to turn right, away from a fork in the path, when he heard something.

‘..Harry..’

‘Mum!’ Harry gasped and he shot towards the fork on his left, sticking to that side. Unfortunately, Tadgh had just rounded the corner and paused on seeing Harry stumbling up the track. Forced to rest a thick arm against a tree for a moment, Tadgh put a hand against his soaked temple and studied the treetops with an air of caution. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to these woods..something that perhaps did not take kindly to beings such as the Tuatha de Danann.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, being consumed by his need to retrieve Harry once again. Pushing himself away from the tree, he continued to pursue Harry, ignoring the cry of the raven that rolled throughout the forest all around him..

..Harry clutched at his heart as he continued to struggle onwards, the stitch he'd developed slowing him down significantly. Refusing to pause for even a second, he resorted to pushing himself off trees as he passed, allowing him to stumble on just a couple of extra metres. The whole time, he heard the voice becoming louder and louder, while his Father's footsteps came closer and closer.

Eventually, Harry realised that there was no other option. He'd gotten a clean hit off just a short while ago, if he could hold his Father off for long enough with Lightwork, he just might have enough energy to outrun him for a short distance. Steeling his nerves, Harry positioned himself in the centre of the path and waited, one thumb under his index finger. He could chance both, unleashing a more powerful burst of energy like Ruadrí had done to power their little boat earlier, but it would probably leave him too tired to continue-

‘There you are..’

His Father's sneer cut through his thoughts and Harry instinctively took a step back. Unsure of his accuracy, he forced himself to hold off as Tadgh approached, sword held limply by his side. His Father seemed just as tired, if not more, than he was and it meant that Tadgh’s guard was down as he approached. His eyes were filled with a sort of euphoria, a tired yet undoubtedly malicious smile on his face, revealing the disgusting state of his teeth after years of alcohol abuse.

‘Now..you little shit..,’ he grumbled, about to reach for the scruff of Harry's jumper when he gasped, mouth hanging open as his leg buckled. Harry, thinking quickly, decided that striking his Father in the knee would slow him down enough. It was nowhere near powerful enough to break it, but it had definitely left a mark and Harry didn’t waste a second. Using his newfound energy, he broke into a run and hurried away from his Father as fast as he could while his stitch complained. Tadgh recovered just a minute or so later, staggering after his son with a pure, white hot rage.

‘HARRY YOU..YOU LITTLE CU-!,’ he began to roar, when he heard something that strangled the insult in his throat. A group of voices, not too far behind him up the path..

‘Was that-!?,’ a woman began.

‘Yes,’ another, all too familiar woman interjected, ‘Stay behind me and..and move carefully..’
__________________

Back in the farmers field, where the soil was slowly returning to its normal colour as the assassins' blood aged, Ruadrí and Oisin continued their duel. But by this point, Ruadrí was becoming exhausted. His gamble on tricking Tuireanna and Tuireann helped certainly, but now he was being subject to the full force of Oisin’s attacks. He’d parried, ducked, weaved and parried, ducked and weaved for what felt like hours now, and Oisin was slowly wearing down his guard. The whole time, he’d flipped between insulting Ruadrí and lamenting their past lives; Ruadrí hadn’t been listening, at this point all the ex-assassin was focused on was staying alive.

‘I had everything! Everything!,’ Oisin snarled, ‘And I still do! Because I have Tuireann! In his name I will strike you down and avenge all our brothers and sisters that you took from us!’

‘We..We we’re going to lose anyway!,’ Ruadrí gasped, managing to put distance between them, ‘If you..you care about family..let the boy go, at least..!,’ he breathed, before barely dodging Oisin’s lunge. Dashing forward, the assassin spun around twice, first catching an unprepared Ruadrí with an elbow to the face and then with a kick that sent him backwards. Landing in some crops, Ruadrí bought himself a second with a snap of lightwork, before he rolled over in the dirt to dodge Oisins blow. Except, the assassin stopped mid-air and re-directed his thrust, almost ending the fight then and there.

Thankfully, Ruadrí managed to block the blade with his own, pushing with his other hand the top of his sword. As the blood trickled down his palm, his first thought was another kick at Oisin’s most vulnerable point, when Tuireann’s son quickly dropped one hand underneath his sword and grabbed Ruadrí’s throat.

‘Choke on those words, scum,’ Oisin remarked callously, and his face was devoid of any emotion as Ruadrí struggled in vain, ‘We wouldn’t have lost if for you..in fact, who says we lost at all? And who are you, coward, to ask me to care for the boy's family?,’ he hissed, ‘When you never cared for mine?’

Ruadrí had begun to thrash around, knowing that if he didn’t do something, and quickly, he would soon lose the ability to defend himself. He couldn’t use lightwork, his hands busy desperately pushing back Oisin’s sword which had slowly forced its way toward the tip of his nose. He managed to get the tip of his boot behind Oisin’s ankle and pull him forward, but it seemed the assassin had steeled himself; several kicks to the gut did nothing, and one more to his nether regions only caused Oisin to grip Ruadrí’s neck tighter, the nails digging into his throat as he pushed his head into the dirt.

‘You are about to die, Ruadrí,’ he spat, ‘I’ll admit, I’d thought this would have ended a lot sooner, and with two other people, but I can settle for this,’ he growled, as Ruadrí felt the air begin to build at the back of his throat, ‘Now..when Tadgh returns what shall we do? Maybe we’ll still have four of Tuireann’s family after all!’

Ruadrí’s eyes, having been slowly drooping and rolling, suddenly shot open. His vision refocused, but Oisin didn’t seem to think anything of it.

‘Oh yes, you’ve realised the extent of your failure! Little blue haired Harry..he’d never hurt a fly, but he would if we started big. Oh yes..I’m sure his family wouldn’t be hard to find..it would be a messy job, the sword may be too heavy for him, but I’ve always had a taste for art..,’ Oisin sighed dreamily, believing that Ruadrí’s lack of movement meant that the life was slowly being squeezed from his body. He leered in as his opponent's sword slid down his side, taking in his, no, Tuireann’s victory.

‘And poor, innocent little Siobh..I’ll make sure she watches, make sure she understands that it is all because of you. And don’t worry, Ruadrí, I’m sure she and Harry will stay close..they’ll have to share the sword after all..your sword, of course. They’ll put it to good use..a Chief here, a commoner there..and then we’ll return to your little village..to your little farm..to your beloved wife..and we’ll make sure Siobh makes her live long enough so she knows everything!’

He noticed then a silver coin tumble out of the pocket of Ruadrí’s torn and blooded cloak. The coin that Derbhla had given Harry, which Ruadrí had taken from him during their tumultuous journey across the waves mere hours ago. Oisin smiled on seeing it. He knew exactly what it was.

‘A summoning coin..now I have a new idea-!’

‘No’

‘No?,’ Oisin asked, smiling blankly at what he presumed to be a dead man.

‘NO!’

Ruadrí lunged upwards, grabbing Oisin’s face and screaming. Oisin, caught off guard by the assault, was pummled as Ruadrí punched him repeatedly in the face, unable to defend as Ruadrí pinned his sword arm against his chest with his elbow. With Oisin unable to respond, Ruadrí, with fresh air pouring into him, was able to emerge victorious in the struggle. Blood soaked his knuckles as he pushed Oisin, dazed and moaning in pain, away from him and grabbed his sword up off the ground. The lead assassin tried to get to his feet and counterattack, but was slashed across his face, permanently drowning his vision in red. The whole time there were few words on Ruadrí’s lips as he continued the attack.

‘NO! NO! NO!’

He kicked, punched and stomped. One blow sent Oisin stumbling backwards, and in defeat, maddened by the pain, he charged towards Ruadrí blindly. He was sidestepped easily, before he was stopped by cold steel descending and then receding from his abdomen. Gargling blood, he collapsed, face first onto the ground, but Ruadrí wasn’t finished. He rolled Oisin over and began to strangle him, teeth gritted in a blind rage as the fallen assassin gripped his wrists weakly. Just as they began to slip though, Ruadrí took in a deep, shuddery breath and let go. Hands shaking as he stood up and studied them, Ruadrí jumped when Oisin grabbed his ankle.

‘..Fi-Finish it! Y-You can’t..can’t deny yourself..!,’ he choked, but Ruadrí just shook his head and rolled him back over with his foot. Picking up the bloodsoaked sword, Ruadrí stumbled away from the battlefield. Wiping his brow he paused briefly, trying to focus on the cry of the Raven, before he shook his head and moved on.

There was not time to linger over what he had done, he had to be somewhere.

Oisin, his senses slowly fading, heard Ruadrí stumble off somewhere. Had he had the ability, he would have tried to curse the coward, though his dying mind told him he wouldn’t have been able to even if he could still talk. The caster had to be facing the victim, which was why Ruadrí had rolled him over. Breathing what he knew would be his last, Oisin focused on the continued cries of the raven, when he suddenly found himself swept into a vision as he gripped the dirt.

A howling red beast. A child's screams. Colours swirled, and there was a man's booming laughter. A pair of grey wings appeared and extended fully, only for another pair of the darkest, most sinister black to materialise behind, dwarfing them in size. He saw the whole island, thunder rumbling across it, before the black wings closed around it fully with a snap as another scream beckoned Oisin to the door of death.

He was pulled through the threshold, and he died.

Chapter Text

Harry heard his Father’s scream cut off behind him as he continued to run. Not daring to hope that it was Ruadrí coming to his rescue, the boy stumbled onwards, following the voice that had called him up the path. As he urged himself along, the path became wider, the plant life sparser and Harry increasingly felt like someone was watching him, though he scarcely had the time or the will to focus on why. It might just be his mind at this point, but he was certain he could still hear his Father coming after him.

One final corner brought him to his destination; and it was something that made Harry pause in astonishment, if only for a second. It was a tall, grassy mound in a wide clearing, surrounded by trees, some of which stood creepily without any leaves, while others seemed to have been blown down entirely by..something. Harry shook his head, trying to centre himself when he heard the voice calling him towards the mound. It sounded ethereal, yet again something about it now made Harry hesitate as he approached. The mound was surrounded by what looked like charms, dotted around its base at regular intervals, which Harry regarded curiously for a moment before he heard the voice again, causing his head to snap upwards.

‘Harry..’

‘M-Mum!,’ Harry called out, placing both hands against the mound, ‘Mum! A-Are you in th-there!?’

‘HARRY!’

‘AH!’

Tadgh had finally caught up with his renegade child, slowly getting the better of the bruised leg that Harry had given him minutes ago. Thinking desperately, the boy wrenched up one of the charms and threw it at his Father, before he noticed a small pile of spares off to his right and darted towards them, just dodging Tadgh’s reach for him, his nails scraping the mounds' surface.

‘You can’t run! You can’t! Just. Give. UP!!,’ Tadgh shouted, shielding himself from the charms Harry had scooped up and was now chucking at him. A retort formed in his mind at his Father’s words, but Harry abandoned it; he needed to get to his Mother, so made for the side of the mound and began to scramble upwards. Again, Tadgh lunged for him, but Harry managed to pull his leg up and kick him in the face, right in the broken nose. Now thoroughly enraged, Tadgh used his sword to pull himself up after Harry, stabbing it into the ground right where his leg had been seconds ago. With only one charm left as he summited the mossy top, Harry kept it close. He realised that it was quite sharp, and he tried to stab at his Father’s hand as he neared.

Tadgh, however, was initially unaffected, and grabbed Harry’s wrist. The boy let out a cry of alarm, and stabbed at the top of his Father’s hand repeatedly. Finally he was forced to let go and Harry retreated on all fours, dislodging the small mushrooms that decorated the summit of the mound, like a sort of odd crown. Tadgh heaved himself over, towering over his son with what looked like pure and utter bloodlust. For a moment they both just stood there, eyes boring into each other, before Tadgh tried to pin Harry down a stomp of his foot. The boy darted to his right just in time, jabbing the charm at his Father’s ankle, only to be wrenched up by his hair.

‘LET GO!,’ Harry cried, but Tadgh only laughed and tightened his grip in response.

‘You’ve got a mouth on you I see!,’ he chuckled darkly, before he scowled, ‘I’ll show you the price of betrayal, you..you useless..worthless piece of cowsh-!!’

Before he could finish, the Raven’s cry cut through the clearing and his talons dug into Tadgh’s back. Swearing loudly, the man dropped Harry and swung around, swinging at Raven with his sword. The bird squawked and managed to get away, Tadgh only cutting loose a few feathers, before the gusts of wind made by the thunderbird's wings made him unsteady. He failed to retrieve his balance and Tadgh went tumbling down the back of the mound, almost losing his sword as he did. The world somersaulted, going around and around until Tadgh finally hit the ground. With a grunt he heaved himself up, preparing to defend against another attack..only to find that the bird was gone.

And not just that..the mound was gone, the woods around them had disappeared as well. The whole scenery had changed from a bright green wood to an eerie, windswept plain with grey skies, dead trees and small rocky outcrops. Turning himself around in confusion, Tadgh spotted Harry standing not too far away, studying the bleak horizon before them. The boy turned and jumped, clutching the charm to his chest as he backed off. With a snarl, Tadgh advanced, only to pause and look around in horror.

‘Wh-What..What are t-those..,’ he stuttered, gripping his sword tightly. Harry stood there, completely taken aback that it was fear that he was hearing in his Father’s voice. Seeing that whatever it was had the man rooted to the spot, Harry stepped back and looked around. He couldn’t see anything, and wondered briefly if it was because his Father was more in touch with his lightwork abilities than he was.

‘What..Where are we..,’ Tadgh breathed, fixing Harry with a hard stare, ‘What have you done!?’

‘I-I haven’t done anything!,’ Harry shot back, ‘I..I never e-ever did anything! And-And you w-would still hurt me!’

‘No..no no no, I freed you!,’ Tadgh hissed, glancing at Harry angrily as he held his sword out to guard against..against whatever it was that he could see and Harry couldn’t, ‘You’re meant to be Tuatha de Dannan! You don’t belong here! I told you all this days ago, why can’t you wrap your fucking head around it!?’

‘Why-Why can’t you w-wrap your head ar-around it!?.’ Harry cried, stepping further back, ‘You hurt me! Y-You tore my-my maps up a-and never ever f-fed me!’

‘You arrogant little pig!,’ Tadgh snapped, ‘Who are you to tell me what to think!? That thick, rotten blue head of yours can’t begin to understand what I sacrificed to bring you into this world! You’re destined for greatness! You still are! Just..Just come with me!,’ Tadgh exclaimed, and to Harry’s utter disbelief he extended a hand.

‘Come with me!’

‘..Y-You’re crazy!,’ Harry sniffed, retreating further, ‘I..I’m never gonna f-forgive you!’

‘I’m crazy!? I’m fucking crazy!?,’ Tadgh exclaimed, ‘You’ve been running around with a bloody murderer, dickhead! Ruadrí has killed people and yet you reject me because I clipped you around the ear once or twice!? Get a fucking grip!,’ before he looked over his shoulder and spun around, aiming his sword at whatever it was that was tormenting him. Harry would have used the opportunity to run, but his fear of the unknown stopped him.

So far, everything he had been through he had Siobh by his side to endure it with him. Now, Harry was alone again and felt further from his family than ever, trapped in this bleak, empty place with only his Father for company. Tadgh turned back around, holding his sword out behind him and looking significantly more panicked. His expression gave Harry enough will to talk back, something unthinkable just a few days ago.

‘At-At least R-Ruadrí feels bad! You..You don’t! Y-You’re with a-assassins just..just to catch me!’

‘I didn’t have a bloody choice!,’ Tadgh snapped bitterly, locking his furious eyes with Harry’s before he swung around again, trying to chase off the invisible menace, ‘But..But we can ditch them-!’

‘Shut..Shut up..,’ Harry muttered, feeling a wave of fatigue crash over him, ‘I..I just want to-to be with Mum..just please, p-please..’

‘Fine!,’ Tadgh blurted out quickly, and Harry looked up in surprise, ‘Fine! I’ll take you to-to fecking Johanna and..and you’ll see just how much of a..a useless cow she is! But right now you..you need to get us out of here!!’

‘..but t-there’s nothing here,’ Harry responded, still in stunned surprise and looking about, ‘I..I can’t..’

He trailed off and looked at the charm clutched to his chest. Tadgh followed his gaze and looked quickly back at the eldritch horrors pursuing him, floating about expectantly and seeming unafraid of his weapon. They had completely surrounded father and son, though their singular, putrid orange eyes seemed solely focused on Tadgh, tentacles poised to grab him once they had the chance.

‘..I see..,’ his son murmured, looking up at his Father as he clutched the charm tighter. Tadgh swallowed on seeing Harry’s eyes narrow at him, and he began to chew his top lip to the point that it drew blood, though it could well have been some other cut he’d received on this long and painful journey.

‘Harry..come on now..you don’t want me to die, t-these things they’ll..who knows what they’ll do to me!,’ Tadgh pleaded, ‘Just..Just..I promise, ok!? I’ll throw myself at the Gatekeepers feet and..and bring you to Johanna! Just don’t leave me here!’

But Harry had decided that he had had enough. Sure, he didn’t really know how to feel about his Father dying, but it might surprise you that he didn’t really care beyond that. Be it Gatekeeper, Fianna or this mysterious thing that now gripped the man with so much terror, Harry didn’t care, he just wanted to be rid of this man who had caused him so much pain. So, with one last tired grin, Harry turned on his heel and sprinted away from his Father as fast as he could.

‘HARRY!’ Tadgh bellowed in self-righteous disbelief and fury. Immediately, the eldritch horrors that surrounded him began to close in, some emitting loud sounds like a claxton. Tadgh swung his sword frantically, managing to ward some of the creatures off so he could get a clean shot off on Harry via lightwork, the boy just about within his reach. However, when he snapped his fingers, to Tadgh’s absolute horror, nothing happened.

Whatever this place was, it completely stifled the ability to use lightwork. Tadgh snapped all around him desperately, cursing and raging to himself as the creatures swarmed him. Slashing at some and perhaps killing one or two, all Tadgh did was incense them further, and tentacles soon wrapped their way around his arms and legs. Raising his sword to the sky in a desperate attempt to stay armed, Tadgh’s wrist was caught and crushed in the grip of one of the monstrosities. Screaming, he was dragged down and away along his massive stomach, facedown against the cold dirt of this land.

Was there any regret? Any remorse to be felt or anything Tadgh thought he could have done differently? No, at least for the time being, as the last words that Harry would ever hear from his Father, as he knew him anyway, would be his name. He screamed it with an intense malice and hatred, yet sounded pained and confused, as if Tadgh still couldn’t fathom for a second that he deserved even the slightest consequence for his actions.

‘HHHAAARRRYYY…!!!’

Harry paused as silence fell all around him, before he took in a shaky breath and burst into tears. He was finally gone, his Father was finally gone and he could at last breathe easy, perhaps for the first time in his life. No abuse, no assassins, it would finally, finally just be him and his family..

..once he figured out how to get out of here that was.

Wiping the unending flood of tears from his eyes, Harry only lingered on this thought for a moment when the whole area began to shake violently. Quickly losing his balance, Harry fell onto his backside before he felt a hand grab his elbow. He screamed and tried to pull free, but was instead pulled upwards. He was blinded by a brilliant flash of gold light, a hundred different voices sailed through his shattered mind, before he was pulled from the dirt of the mound and blinded again by the warm sun.

‘I have him!,’ an elderly woman’s voice exclaimed excitedly, ‘I have him I have him I have him!!’

Harry pulled free of her grip in fright and fell over onto his side. Still convinced that his Mother was somewhere inside the mound, he tried to crawl up the side but his energy at last deserted him and he collapsed against it. Heaving in deep breaths, he turned his head to see the woman studying him with a mix of apprehension and jubilation. In a short sleeved orange top, she was covered in dirt, with her hair being a strange mix of what looked grey and white. She reached out towards him, but Harry pulled back in suspicion and sat up, pulling his knees to his chest when another, younger, woman stepped into his view.

‘..H-Harry..!,’ the woman sobbed, startling him.

‘Who..who a-are you people..?,’ the boy murmured, glancing briefly at another woman in a black cloak who was standing away from them. The person in front of him had brown hair, wore a white t-shirt with jeans and it seemed his mere presence had her bawling like a newborn. In fact she wasn’t even able to stand on her own two feet, slumping to her knees. The older woman rose, tears rolling down her cheeks as well and a wide smile on her face.

‘Harry this..this your Mother!,’ she smiled, gesturing at the sobbing woman in front of him.

‘..you are..?,’ the boy asked her timidly, shifting back around and the woman nodded tearfully, both hands covering her mouth, eyes fast becoming red and puffy from the tears. Harry felt the elation begin to creep in, but his confusion held it off for just a moment longer.

‘Y-You..um..I th-thought y-you’d have b-blue hair..’

‘Oh, that’s..that’s a long story, sweetheart’ the woman sniffed, brushing her fringe out of her eyes and giving him a watery smile. That smile struggled to stay in place when Harry’s eyes lit up at the word “sweetheart,” before he flinched when she moved to caress his cheek. She paused, a brief look of despair coming over her before Harry rested his cheek against her palm. Her touch was warm and comforting, and what finally did away with Harry’s caution was the way she studied him. A gentle concern, one that Harry felt was special. It was someone he felt, no, knew he could run to if he ever felt in danger, if he needed to talk or to cry. And at that realisation, that this really was his Mum, his Mum, Harry threw himself at her in an embrace, bawling like she had been just a minute ago.

‘MUM!’

‘HARRY!,’ Johanna sobbed, catching him and standing up, spinning him around as the boy wrapped his arms and legs around her. Almost immediately she loosened her tight embrace, shocked by just how thin he was as the child sobbed incoherently against her, clutching the back of her top. For a moment, the guilt and pain came rushing back and Johanna stumbled momentarily. She felt Harry somehow squeeze himself tighter against her in fright, and was able to catch herself. With a breath, she leaned Harry back to take in his pale face, his brown eyes bulging from the tears. She pushed the self-loathing down; all that mattered right now was her son, the son that had been snatched from his crib and pulled away from her screaming.

‘Mama! Mama!’

‘..Mum..!,’ Harry sobbed in the present, a big soppy grin adorning his pasty face. Johanna sat back down carefully, rocking back and forward as she soothed her lost child shakily.

‘I-It’s ok now..It’s ok n-now, Harry..!’

Behind them, Kaisa wiped yet another tear from her eye as she supported the Raven on her shoulder, himself becoming emotional. The Witch looked up the forest path then, and saw two children approaching her, going at a snail's pace. To her relief, she saw that it was Hilda, having been worried sick despite sharing Raven’s conviction that she’d be fine. The girl thankfully only seemed to have a couple branches sticking out of her hair from her fall, but the other child looked in much worse condition.

‘Kaisa!,’ Hilda called over, sounding serious, ‘Q-Quick! I need you t-to help me with Siobh here!’

The Witch was with them in an instant, with Astrid hurrying over to assist as well with a satchel slung over her shoulder. Hilda lay Siobh down on the path, taking the girl's hand in both her own as Astrid began to rifle around in the bag frantically. Kaisa studied her more closely, looking for any sign of injuries but found none, as Hilda shot a worried look back up the path then glanced anxiously at Kaisa.

‘Siobh..Siobh says there’s others..they’re w-working with the man trying to find Harry,’ she whispered. Kaisa was initially confused about who she was talking about, but quickly realised what Hilda meant and nodded wordlessly. She whispered to Raven and the bird took off from her shoulder, soaring down the path while Kaisa positioned herself in front of them, wand drawn and at the ready.

‘..Are these wicked people, Hilda?,’ Astrid asked and both girls nodded sombrely.

‘T-They’ve been c-chasing me and Harry..,’ Siobh breathed, gripping the broken remains of her crook tightly as Astrid rubbed some ointment on her cut hands. The woman nodded wordlessly, looking at Hilda jerking her head back up the path.

‘Johanna and your brother are up there, go and grab them, we need everyone in one place!,’ she ordered. Hilda was so stunned by the revelation that she didn’t move for several seconds, and only went running up the path at her Aunt’s stern glance as she continued to tend to Siobh. Hilda stopped almost as soon as she started though, having to skid to a halt in time to stop herself from crashing into her Mum coming around the corner.

‘Mum! Mum! Q-Quickly, over here!,’ Hilda urged, grabbing her hand and pulling her over towards the others.

‘Hilda stop that!,’ her Mum cajoled, pulling free, ‘You’ll..You’ll wake your brother!,’ she smiled wearily and Hilda spun around, her euphoria momentarily overriding her worry. Johanna crouched down and Hilda followed suit, inching closer as Johanna licked her finger and wiped a bit of dirt off Harry’s face, cradling him in her arms. Hilda said nothing, sitting cross legged and her vision quickly becoming foggy with tears. She couldn’t quite believe it, that Harry really was here, snoozing away peacefully in front of her. Cautiously, and with a quick look at Johanna for approval, Hilda reached out and took his hand.

It was pale and cold to the touch, yet Hilda felt him squeeze hers ever so slightly. Placing her other hand on top of his, she was shocked, just like Johanna had been, at how thin he was. He had clearly been through quite the journey, with rips in his jeans and the intricate woollen jumper torn and muddied in places. Hilda felt immediately that these couldn’t have been given to him by his abuser, especially the black cloak that hung around his shoulders, its hem caked in dirt.

Finally, her eyes were drawn to the blue hair that they both shared, his standing out even more due to his pale complexion. It was curly, and incredibly overgrown, Hilda wondering how he was even able to see through it at all. The boy stirred in his sleep then, his short smile morphing into a frown. Johanna leaned forward to plant a kiss on Harry’s forehead, soothing him for a time. Hilda studied Johanna quietly, knowing that how she felt was just probably nothing to what her Mum was feeling.

She was clearly struggling to keep herself together, so the girl shifted closer to her and rested her head against her shoulder. Johanna in turn rested her head on hers, sniffling. It seemed to Hilda that she had helped, when Harry fussed again before his eyes shot open and he leapt from his Mother’s arms in an obvious panic.

‘SIOBH!?’ he cried out, looking around frantically. Before either his Mum or sister could say anything to assure him, Harry spun around at the sound of Siobh calling out weakly in front of them.

‘A-Anseo..!,’ she murmured in Irish, raising a hand and waving it, though she had no idea if she was actually waving at Harry given her position. It didn’t matter in the end, as the boy skidded to her side and grabbed her hand. Hilda made to join him, but Johanna put an arm across her and shook her head. She thought, rightly, that Harry was someone mindful of his space, but the boy scuppered those thoughts when he called Hilda over. Except, he didn’t call Hilda over..

‘H-Hey! Um..you!,’ Harry exclaimed, having been momentarily lost for words on seeing her for the first time. The girl came hurrying forward and sat down next to him, her blue hair falling back in place as she cocked her head in confusion. Harry just sat there, not entirely sure how to tell his sibling that he didn’t even know her name. Hilda quickly realised his dilemma, and with a deep breath placed a hand on his shoulder..

He really had no idea what her name was..

‘..I’m Hilda,’ she smiled, blinking away the tears and placing a palm on her chest in introduction. Harry nodded slowly, wiping his eyes before he took her hand from his shoulder and gave her a tired, yet enthusiastic smile.

‘..I’m Harry, it’s-it’s nice to finally m-meet you..!,’ he stammered.

She was almost exactly like he had imagined. A big head of curly blue hair and brown eyes, in fact Harry was taken aback by just how close he had been when creating his faux-memories. He had imagined his sister as looking like him, except being a girl, and Hilda really was exactly like that. His sister tittered as Harry looked her up and down, before he pointed at her with a happy, yet baffled sort of smile on his face.

‘Y-You look like me!,’ he said, causing both Hilda and Siobh to laugh, though Siobh still sounded like she was still in quite a bit of pain. Harry glanced at her worriedly, as Astried gently applied the ointment she was using to the girl's face.

‘Of course you do, you’re twins after all!,’ their Mother explained, walking over. She was about to take a seat next to Hilda, when she stopped and her expression hardened on hearing Raven’s cry cut through the woods once again. The bird came soaring back towards them, quickly followed by a lanky man wearing tall black boots, some brown trousers and a black tunic. His black cloak was billowing behind him, and Johanna inhaled sharply when she saw that he was carrying a sword; one very clearly covered in blood.

‘Stop!,’ the man called after Raven desperately, ‘Stop! Have..Have you seen my daughter!?’

‘Ruadrí!,’ Harry cried out in joy, but he wasn’t the focus of attention as Siobh burst into tears beside him. Still grounded enough to drop the sword to show that he wasn’t a threat, Ruadrí still had to slow as Kaisa raised her wand, hesitated, then retreated back towards Johanna and the twins. Astrid stepped back as well, allowing Ruadrí to scoop Siobh up and try to console her.

‘Tá tú beo!!,’ Siobh sobbed, hugging him tightly, ‘T-Tá tú beo!! Athair!!’

That last word, “Father,” caused Ruadrí to pause for a moment, and the relief that came over him was plain for all to see. Once Siobh had settled into hiccupping and sniffling, clutching her Father’s cloak, Ruadrí turned to face the group. Before he could say anything though, Siobh spoke up again, sounding disgruntled.

‘My-My ears are ringing again..’

‘Oh! My ears are ringing too!,’ Harry replied, although he sounded much happier about it, which caused Siobh to laugh hoarsely. A Summer’s breeze blew through at that moment, causing the Sun to peek through the trees and bathe them in its warm rays. With it, a sense of finality fell over the group and Astrid approached Ruadrí, albeit with some caution.

‘Please, come back to my house with us, I can get the local doctor to look over your daughter. Don’t worry, he knows not to ask me too many questions!,’ she laughed, tapping her nose. Ruadrí appeared hesitant at first, but another glance at his wounded Siobh changed his mind. He nodded slowly.

‘Of course, thank you’

As this happened, Hilda stepped away for a short moment to collect herself. Hands behind her back, she balanced on one boot to get a look at the Fairy Mound around the corner. Her Father was likely still trapped inside, and that was about as long as Hilda spent thinking about him. It was a strange feeling, suddenly going from longing for a Father to not caring about them in the slightest in just a few days. But Hilda simply exhaled and turned away, where she found her Mum and Harry waiting for her. Her brother stretched out his hand, which Hilda took with a smile, and together they went up the path.

None of it mattered now. Harry was finally free.

Chapter Text

‘AH!’

Harry sat bolt upright, the duvet falling down to his middle as his panicked eyes shot around the room at the speed of light. Slowly coming to the realisation that he hadn’t been dreaming, the boy took in a series of deep, shuddery breaths as he hugged himself, fingers poking through the holes torn in his jumper. His weary eyes adjusted to the darkness, the blinds having been pulled with the summer sun peeking through behind them. Fighting the urge to place his head back on the pillow, he knew he’d go to sleep if he did, Harry looked around again slowly. He wanted to understand where he was first before he allowed himself to settle.

One picture standing on the bedside opposite him was all needed to know that he was safe. It was of his Mum and Sister..Helga? Hildrid? Harry picked his brain, remembering the reunion with his family in the forest. Placing a hand against his head as he reached over and took the photo, the details were foggy at best and non-existent at worst. A walk..they’d walked somewhere afterwards definitely..but after that Harry couldn’t really remember-No! Wait! He remembered a carriage, the whistle of the steam train having awoken him from some prior slumber. He’d been in his Mother’s arms, and she settled him again, Harry having known that in her warm embrace nothing would ever hurt him..

And now he was here. Holding the frame with both hands, Harry smiled tiredly at the picture of his family. His sister was sitting on Mum's lap, resting against her shoulder while Mum reached towards the camera, presumably to take the picture. The angle of the couch meant they must have placed the camera on the armrest, and Harry presumed that the boxes behind meant they’d just moved. Maybe they hadn’t unpacked the stand yet?

Then, a knock on the door, and it slowly cracked open at Harry’s timid approval. Placing the picture back, he turned and saw that it was his sister, with Siobh revealing a bandaged nose by poking her head out from behind her. Outside, Harry heard the adults talking, their quiet tones deafened once the girls slipped in and closed the door behind them. Siobh paused at Harry’s bedside, gripping the remains of her crook tightly. It took a moment for him to realise, but then Harry blinked and opened his arms wide for a hug, which Siobh answered immediately. The happiness of it was dulled somewhat, however, when Harry felt her tears wetting his back.

‘Are..Are y-you going?,’ he whispered.

‘Y-Yeah..,’ Siobh sniffed, though she gave him a watery smile, ‘Y-Your Mum and Hilda offered to let us stay the night but..but Dad thinks w-we might have some explaining to do to the Gatekeepers..’

‘Hilda!,’ Harry exclaimed, clicking his fingers, causing his sister to break out laughing. She could tell from the tone in his voice that her name had slipped his mind.

‘You’d forgotten?’ she asked wryly.

‘Oh! M-Maybe..,’ Harry murmured, sounding anxious and wringing his hands. Hilda just smiled and sat down on the carpet. Siobh followed suit, stifling a yawn.

‘It’s alright, you passed out the moment we stepped inside Astrid’s house!,’ Hilda grinned, ‘Siobh got looked over by the doctor there, and then we came on the train here, to Trollberg!’

‘I..I woke up on the train..,’ Harry murmured, ‘I-I went right back to sleep t-though..’

‘Can’t blame you..,’ Siobh murmured, ‘I practically slept the whole way back after Hilda and I finished your gift!’

‘G-Gift?,’ Harry asked, and Hilda picked up a piece of paper that she had brought in with her. Siobh fumbled with a lamp, not being too sure how to work it, but eventually got it turned on for Harry to study what he knew instantly was a map. The paper had been folded neatly in half, with Hilda and Siobh decorating a side each. Going off Siobh’s rough memory of the map Harry had shown her in the Otherworld, they’d colour coded them and made them as complex as they could manage, with train lines branching off and linking up all over the place. Yet Harry was able to figure out a pattern pretty quickly, eyes darting all over the page before he set it down with a look of satisfaction.

‘I told Hilda you’d figure it out in no time!,’ Siobh laughed, though it was swelled with emotion. The sound of the chairs scraping across the floor outside caused Harry to flinch and he hunched his shoulders, but was able to push past the worst of it by the time a knock came on the door. Hilda got up and answered, and as expected it was Ruadrí. He had a thinly veiled emotion on his face as well, as he jerked his head towards the front door.

‘You’re Mother will be worried sick for us, Siobh..’

‘I know..,’ the girl murmured, walking glumly out of the room. Harry, however, mustered his energy and followed them out along with Hilda, who paused to let him say his last goodbye. Harry placed a hand on Siobh’s shoulder, and when she turned in surprise he pulled her into another hug, while Ruadrí paused at the top of the stairs.

‘I-I know you’re g-gonna be a-a really good druid!’ he grinned once they’d pulled apart.

‘You know..I think I will be too,’ Siobh smiled. Another hug, but Siobh forced herself to go after a moment, stepping through the door with her father, who Harry gazed up at wordlessly for a second. Ruadrí regarded him as well, and while there was a little difference from the child he’d seen Derbhla and Siobh bring home unconscious a few days ago, there was something new in Harry’s eyes. Hope. And even if Ruadrí’s actions were deemed insufficient to wipe the blood from his hands, he would be proud of what he and Siobh had done for Harry until the day he died.

‘Y-You’re a g-good Dad, R-Ruadrí!,’ Harry said finally.

‘And you’re a star, Harry,’ Ruadrí said kindly, some tears appearing around his eyes despite his stoicism, ‘May the wind be at your back, all of you! Slán, agus go raibh maith agat as an iasc ar fad!’

And with countless waves and goodbyes between them, Ruadrí closed the door over slowly before it finally shut. Harry pressed his ear against the door, hearing Ruadrí’s heavier footsteps descending the stairs before they stopped. Harry heard him say something, before Siobh’s quick steps followed. Another door downstairs opened and closed, and when Harry turned to look at his family he was in floods of tears. Hilda was over to him in a minute, taking both his hands in hers.

‘They’ll be ok!’

‘W-Will they..?’

‘Astrid and I gave them everything they needed to get off the island and back home,’ Johanna explained, nodding towards her Aunt before moving towards the kitchen, ‘Now..,’ she breathed, looking at her family, ‘Who’s hungry?’

‘Me!,’ both siblings said in joyful unison. Barely able to keep herself composed long enough to take out the ingredients for some buttered pasta, Johanna moved back towards Astrid, for whom it was getting late in the evening. Johanna had tried to convince her to stay for a movie, but Astrid had decided that she wasn’t going to impose herself on Johanna’s first night with her reunited twins. With some quiet commitments that she would indeed see them soon, now that they’d been to Tofoten, Johanna watched her Aunt go down the stairs before glancing at the kitchen.

‘Hilda! Watch your fingers on the grater!,’ Astrid heard her cry out before the door closed behind her. Stepping out the door to the building with a smile, Astrid zipped up her cardigan and walked back towards the train station, passing the coins in one pocket through her fingers. Studying the Summer’s evening sky as she walked, Astrid found the city pleasantly quiet. There were more cars parked on the side of the pavement than ones driving on the road, and it was on that pavement that Astrid almost bumped into a white haired Safety Patrol officer, a short woman who was about the same height as her. It was the hat which Astrid recognised immediately, however.

‘Chief Ranger Gerda Gustav..?’

‘Indeed,’ Gerda responded plainly, tearing off a piece of paper from her notebook and tucking it under the windscreen wiper of a car. She turned to look at Astrid, expecting it to be a short yet pleasant encounter with another person surprised to see the Chief Ranger doing such menial work. Yet, with Astrid, she paused. She recognised her, in much the same way she had recognised Johanna when herself and Ahlberg had arrived at the apartment just under a year ago.

‘You’re Miss Astrid? From Tofoten?’

‘Yes, that’s right, though time has left its mark since then!,’ Astrid laughed. Her mood was in stark contrast to the one Gerda had found her in over a decade ago, when she had been recently promoted to Sergeant. It had been in a different, destroyed apartment after neighbours had called in a panic about a violent dispute between a couple. Told there were two toddlers inside the room, about eight patrolmen and women had descended on the building to find a badly injured woman and just one, screaming, child. Astrid had been summoned shortly after, and it was alongside her Gerda had tried to piece together what happened from Johanna, while the call went out on all cables.

A kidnapped child. And yet the Patrol utterly failed to find any trace of them, a dark blemish on their record.

‘Are you alright?,’ Astrid asked, as Gerda stared at her with an intense guilt. The Chief Ranger had never forgotten Harry’s case, having seen many others work themselves almost to death over chasing any lead.

‘Oh..yes, I’m fine,’ Gerda breathed, drumming her fingers on the back of the notebook before she fully zoned back in and cleared her throat, ‘Now that I’m Chief Ranger, I plan to increase the funds in your family’s case, hopefully we’ll be able to find something..’

‘I think you’ll find that there are such things as miracles,’ Astrid winked, before she brought up her collar against a surprisingly cool breeze, ‘Good luck, Miss Gustav, I’m sure you’ll do a better job than that oaf Ahlberg ever could!’

‘Take care..,’ Gerda murmured, letting a slight smile escape her as she watched Astrid go. Once she’d rounded the corner, Gerda turned on her heel and marched up the opposite direction, letting any wayward parking go for the time being. Passing Hilda’s building, she paused and looked up at the third floor. The windows were open, and from where she stood she could spy Johanna. She had a child in her arms, and their short blue hair was obvious. Gerda’s jaw dropped in disbelief, before she had to quickly resume her pace when Johanna turned towards the open window. Upstairs, Johanna paused at the sight of Gerda, remembering the young Sergeant doing her best to comfort her despite her own shock.

‘W-Who are you l-looking at..,’ Harry asked worriedly, rubbing his eyes as his Mum stroked his hair in reassurance.

‘It’s nothing, sweetheart, don’t worry,’ she smiled, settling Harry instantly before she put him down to beat Hilda to the boiling pasta. Outside, Gerda found a pay phone nearby and quickly pushed several coins, more than enough to last an hour. Punching in the numbers, there was one more person who needed to know that Harry had returned home. That person who had been the reason Tadgh had been thrown out by Johanna, before returning to break in that fateful night.

That person who he’d an affair with behind Johanna’s back, when his ego had told him that Harry was compromised, and a new legacy was needed. The same person whose pregnancy test he had foolishly taken home with him, to be found by the curious daughter he had neglected. That person had kept the baby Tadgh then abandoned them with, and watched in horror as everything had imploded not long after. A person who Gerda had kept away from the investigation, knowing that she could offer no leads and that her presence would only complicate things.

Her very own sister. Emma Gustav.

‘Emmy?,’ Gerda asked in German once she got through to the Jorts building, ‘What time are you home tonight?’

‘Half nine,’ her sister yawned at the other end, having been working her desk job since eight that morning, ‘Why?’

‘It’s good news, about the incident, I can’t say everything here but-’

‘Meet me at home,’ Emma cut in immediately, standing up and immediately piling her things into her bag, ‘Hazel’s there, I’ll need to wait until my supervisor is out of his meeting’

‘But Emmy you-!’

‘I’ve gone over final notices before, Gerda,’ Emma interjected again, already slinging her backpack over her shoulder, ‘There’s some bleeding heart in the electricity company who can’t bear to come after a single mother, I swear. I’ll see you at home,’ she repeated, before hanging up on the Chief Ranger, who was left staring into the pavement for a second, then she hooked the phone back up and went searching for the nearest patrol car.
___________________________________

‘Mum says you’re late!,’ a scrawny girl chirped on opening the door to her Aunt, ‘That will be a hundred tolls!’

‘A hundred tolls is one bell, Hazel,’ Gerda replied, stepping inside the dark hall and ruffling her hair. Like Emma had said, her electricity bill was due, though the lights were usually kept off anyway to try and save costs. Her niece nodded eagerly, and with a wry grin Gerda fished around in her pocket before she retrieved a two bell coin, handing it to Hazel, who stuck out her hand in gratitude.

‘Vielen danke!,’ she grinned, before she turned and bounced up the stairs. Aged ten, Hazel wore a baggy set of clothes that her Mother had bought at a charity shop. Her long, curly black hair blended into the cardigan she wore and in her eagerness to add Gerda’s gift to her little piggy bank, Hazel tripped on the hem of her baggy grey trousers. Gerda paused to make sure she was alright, but the girl was uninjured, continuing up the stairs at the same pace. Emma came out to greet her sister, chastising her daughter as she did.

‘Hazel! Don’t run upstairs! You’ll fall through the ceiling!’

‘Sorry Mama!,’ Hazel called down, before she shut the door to her room. With a sigh, Emma motioned for Gerda to follow her into the kitchen. She was thinner than her sister but one could still mistake them easily, her blonde hair being done up in a messy bun with the hair needle sticking out. She was in her dressing gown and pyjamas, one of the few pairs of casual clothes she owned. The short trip to the kitchen at the back of the house was filled with the creak of the old wooden floor boards being muffled by the dusty rug. Emma had a hoover, but had to keep reusing the bag inside it, which was quickly becoming worn out.

‘So..what news?,’ Emma breathed, flicking on the kettle as Gerda closed the kitchen door behind them. They had no fears of Hazel eavesdropping, she had been raised to respect people's privacy, but nonetheless both sisters spoke in hushed tones and in German to boot. Hazel’s was good, but nowhere near fluent just yet.

‘He’s home,’ Gerda smiled, ‘I saw him through their window after I met their Aunt outside’

Emma immediately became emotional, and her older sister came over to comfort her. Emma had been a young intern working at Jorts when she’d met Tadgh, who’d swept her off her feet with his silver tongue like he had Johanna. Their affair had continued over the months Harry's hair had turned blue, and Tadgh had become more and more dissociated from his first family. Emma had felt like she was on Cloud 9, before she had been put off by Tadgh’s constant monologue about a son. It had started after she’d learned she was pregnant, and Emma soon began to fear what would happen if the baby turned out to be a girl. Worried, she’d turned to the one person she knew she could trust.

‘The drunks we bring in at night never stop talking,’ Gerda said, ‘Get him drinking one night, and we’ll see how he really feels..’

Emma had done just that, and it would turn out Tadgh had a lot more to say than originally anticipated.

‘A girl? Whatcha mean “if” it's a girl?’ he hiccuped, finishing the end of his fifth bottle that evening.

‘Well, all you talk about is a son..I hate to accuse you, but if we had a daughter, would..would you love her as much?,’ she asked, twirling a bit of hair around her finger and not looking at him.

‘Ah shure..,’ Tadgh mumbled, before he paused, ‘Just ya know how’it iss..it’s a man's wohrld Emma..ya know what I’m shaying..?’

‘You’re not answering the question, and by the way, you’ve met my sister’

Tadgh held up his hands in self defence, before he slumped in his chair.

‘Ah now I’m not shaying Gerda isn’t -hic- tough..daughter..ah look they’d jusht be harder to put up with, y’know..?’

‘How could you know that?,’ she asked sternly, looking away from him and out the window of her dingy apartment now.

‘Ah the one I’m stuhck with right now..Dada! Dada! All the bloodhy time! Don’t know how’d I put up with the suhecond one..two daughterss..two women..God..’

She spun around, eyes wide in shock and her now very soon to be ex’s widened in turn. Tadgh swallowed, very clearly realising what he had just said. He managed to roll off the couch in time to avoid her throwing himself at him. Landing harmlessly against the cushions, Emma grabbed the vase she’d bought that very week and threw it at him as he stumbled towards the front door.

‘BASTARD!,’ she screamed in German as it exploded above his head, sending porcelain, water and carnations flying in all directions, ‘BASTARD!’

Tadgh had used the exploding vase to make his escape, and the rest was history. A week later, Emma had heard about a kidnapped child from her sister. Once she read Tadgh’s name in next day's paper, the guilt had been all consuming. If she had tried to warn Johanna instead of moping around her flat, maybe none of this would have happened. Despite Gerda’s best efforts to pull her out of it, Emma had slipped into a depression. It was Hazel’s birth, premature at eight months, that finally forced her back into gear. Her life with Tadgh had distracted her from her job at Jorts though, and they’d been reluctant to take her back. It was only the potential scandal from them firing a single Mother that convinced them.

However, she hadn’t been returned to her internship but instead a full time job at the company. One that meant longer hours, worse pay and the beginning of the tedious cycle which Emma found herself in to this day. It had been hard at first, very hard. She’d had to move into Gerda’s flat, and usually only got to see her daughter a couple of days a week, when she got days off work. But through grit and a determination to give Hazel the best life she could, Emma had secured small time promotions and more recently, some housing from the Council.

It wasn’t much, but it was progress, and now the world had gotten just a little brighter with Gerda’s news. However, the guilt still clawed at her.

‘Was he happy? Was his Mother happy?,’ Emma sniffed, wiping her eyes with a tissue Gerda had given her, ‘Will..Will you talk to them?’

‘They seemed delighted when I caught a glimpse of them,’ Gerda explained, reaching behind her sister to flick off the hissing kettle, which if left on for too long would blow the power. Guiding her over to the table, Gerda poured Emma some tea into her favourite cup. Hazel had given it to her, and her Mum insisted on using it even though it had been broken and put back together a couple times.

‘But will you talk to them, Gerdy?,’ Emma pressed and her sister exhaled.

‘Yes, I imagine I will. Johanna will need to tell us to go through procedures and what not. Even if she didn’t, I don’t think she’d keep his return a secret. But it does open up that old can of worms, Emmy, you know what I’m talking about..’

‘Hazel doesn’t care about her Father,’ Emma responded stiffly, before she took a long sip of her tea. Gerda sighed, it was the same response she’d always gotten whenever she suggested that Emma tell Hazel about Tadgh. And it didn’t help that she didn’t actually know Hazel’s own opinion. She had never brought it up, and Hazel had never asked her, but Gerda still felt that the day was coming where the girl's boundless energy would focus on the question. And that it would come sooner rather than later.

‘What if they hate her, Gerda?,’ Emma asked, stunning her sister.

‘Emmy! They won’t hate her! It might be a shock to find they have a half sister but-!’

‘-but they could still hate her! They’ll hate because of me! Because of what I’ve done to destroy their family!’

Gerda suppressed the urge to shake her by the shoulders.

‘They won’t,’ She repeated, in a tone that told her younger sister not to interrupt, ‘I’ve seen the kindness that Hilda is capable of! I know she wouldn’t turn her back on her half sister’

‘But what about their Mother..what about Johanna?’

‘Baby steps, Emmy, baby steps..you don’t have to tell Hazel right away, but it’s important that YOU have a plan,’ Gerda said, putting on an authoritative tone,  ‘I can’t be there when you tell Hazel..she might think I’m the only reason you're telling her to begin with..’

Emma inhaled and finished off her tea, setting it down on the table. After a moment, she nodded and stood up, though Gerda felt it might be a feint just so she could get her out of the house. Regardless, she didn’t push the issue further and followed her out to the hallway. Upstairs, they heard Hazel’s door open and she came running down the stairs. Dressed in some pyjamas that were just a little small for her, her Mum and Aunt nonetheless watched worriedly as the two blankets Hazel had slung over shoulders swept around her feet.

‘Mum! Can we watch a movie?,’ Hazel asked, ‘It was in the catalogue, remember?’

‘Of course,’ Emma smiled, ‘Go set us up inside, I just want to talk to Gerda for a minute’

‘Yippee! Thanks for the money Gerda!,’ Hazel grinned before she bounded into the sitting room with the blankets slithering behind her. Her Aunt watched Emma’s smile for a moment, who often said that while she didn’t have much, she still had one thing which was priceless.

‘You spoil her,’ her sister chuckled as she opened the door for Gerda to go, who smiled but still didn’t let the reason for her departure slip her mind.

‘You’ll remember what I said, won’t you?’

‘Yes..Yes I will..,’ Emma sighed, almost rolling her eyes a little, ‘We’ll talk more soon, the weekend if I have the time, alright?’

‘That sounds perfect,’ Gerda nodded, stepping away as Emma waved her goodbye and closed the door behind her. Lingering at their gate for a moment, Gerda watched as Emma returned to the front room and helped Hazel set up a blanket fort. Perhaps, one day, Hilda and Harry could set one up with her as well and they could all watch a movie together. But such things were for the future. All that mattered right now was that Harry was home, safe from whatever it was he had come from, a cold realisation that shook Gerda as she got into her car. It was the crackle of the Patrol walkie next to her that brought her back into reality.

-bzzt- ‘All Officiers nearby, report to -crk- Hagstead Farm outside the -bzt- Wall. Incident Red, I repeated, Incident Red, about six -crk- Red Wolves attacked the property an hour ago. We need all hands, I repeat, we need all hands’