Dragonclaw by Kate Forsyth Page B

the Red Wanderer is here again. I wish I knew what it meant for us. Ye have heard the tales o’ witch-hunts and executions?’
    â€˜Aye. It was very hard for me to come here—passage through the land is growing daily more difficult.’
    â€˜Ye had no trouble finding the way?’
    The old warlock chuckled. ‘Dragonclaw was easy enough to find with Jesyah to show me the way. Finding the entrance was a lot harder. Jesyah must have flown into hundreds o’ cave mouths on that bloody mountainside. Thank ye for your mind-message yesterday. Are all the witches gathered?’
    â€˜Ye are only the second, Jorge. I have hopes, though. I’ve been expecting the lad for weeks now, and I sent out messages to all the witches I ken, and still I scry for more.’
    â€˜Aye, but we are so few now and we are all afraid. I have made myself a wee snug home in the Sithiche Mountains so I did no’ have to cross the land to get here, or come through the Pass, which is guarded.’
    â€˜What news, Jorge?’
    â€˜Only bad, Meghan. The seas are full o’ Fairgean—happen they smell the Rìgh’s weakness. I have heard they have penetrated the Wulfrum River as high as the third loch.’
    â€˜That is fearful news indeed.’ Meghan got stiffly to her feet. ‘Come back to the house, Jorge, ye must be weary.’
    The old warlock got to his feet, the raven fluttering down to sit on his bony shoulder. Jorge stroked the black glossy feathers and said, ‘Will Gitâ mind a visitor?’
    â€˜He willna like it,’ Meghan laughed, ‘but he’ll be hospitable.’ They began to walk back through the forest, Isabeau trailing close behind, consumed with curiosity.
    â€˜Meghan, I did a sighting afore I came. It was very odd. The vision kept changing, though I tried to hold it steady. I feel we are at a junction o’ events. The Spinners are weaving new colours into the cloth and what this will mean for us only time can tell.’
    â€˜What did ye see, Jorge?’
    â€˜I saw a babe being born that straddled the world with its feet—one foot upon the land, the other upon the oceans. It carried the Lodestar in its hand. I tried to see deeper into the vision, but it changed and I saw two faces that were the same, as if in a mirror, yet different. Everything I see in my dreams is in pairs, it seems—the double-fruited pomegranate, cherries, a coney with two kittens, two moons that reach out to each other, sometimes to kiss, sometimes to bite. There was one dream which brought me to tears and so woke me. I dreamt I was in Lucescere again. I ran into the auld throne-room, gladness in my heart, and saw there on the throne a winged man who had the Lodestar shining in his hand. Such a strange and bonny sight! And then the dream turned, and again I was running into the throne-room, and all I could hear was the wailing o’ a clarsach. And there, on the throne, I saw a woman, with the Lodestar blazing in her fist. At first I am glad, and I see she has the white lock, all the way to her feet as only a true NicCuinn can have. But, Meghan, here is the worst o’ it. I come closer, and she is Fairge! No doubt about it, I see her scales shining, and her fins and tail, and her mouth is no mouth o’ a woman!’
    â€˜That is a strange sighting indeed,’ Meghan said slowly.
    â€˜Indeed, by my beard and the beard o’ the Centaur. There is something else … I ken it means something important but yet I canna tell what. Every night I dream o’ Magnysson and Gladrielle. I see them in my dreams, rising and setting, and I see one being consumed by the other … Magnysson takes Gladrielle in his arms, as the auld tales always told, but he swallows her, Meghan! He eats her! I think this can only mean war is coming, war as we have no’ seen for many centuries.’
    â€˜ When Magnysson shall at last hold Gladrielle in his arms, all will be