then she scooted me through the door in Lily’s wake. Behind me, it closed with a resounding thud.
“You believe all that voodoo twaddle?” growled Jason out in the passageway.
“It’s about respect, not belief,” I said shortly. “Tell that to Medusa in gray,” Jason retorted. “Auld Callie,” said Lily. Standing there in a green dress with faux-medieval trumpet sleeves, her flame-red hair floating about her face, she was near tears of fury. “She’s playing one of the witches. The kids in the village think she is one.”
Auld Callie, I thought suddenly. That’s the name of the woman who found Sir Angus.
“I thought I saw you this afternoon,” I said to Lily. “On the hill.”
“Well, you didn’t. You just saw Sybilla make a fool of me. And my grandmother let her.”
Had I been dreaming? Or was there someone else out there? The only way to find out was to go back. I started down the passage.
“Oh, no,” said Jason, grabbing my arm. “You’re not going anywhere till you get us out of this.”
His grip tightened. It was going to be faster to give in and show him how to exorcise the curse than to argue. Under my terse direction, Jason turned three times clockwise and then pounded on the door to the hall, asking to be let back in. Sybilla opened the door. “ Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you, ” he said as he stepped back through it. Sybilla gave him a smile of incandescent triumph, and then, without acknowledging Lily at all, she shut the door behind him.
“Cow,” shot Lily. She spun around three times and crossed to the door, her knuckles pausing a few inches out. “What should I say?”
I glanced anxiously down the corridor. “You have to quote from one of the lucky plays. Jason went with Merchant of Venice. Why don’t you do Midsummer ?”
She shrugged. “Sure.”
“An old standby is Hand in hand with fairy grace, will we sing and bless this place .”
She looked back, her sea-green eyes alight with mischief. “You should have said that up on the hill. It’s a fairy hill, you know.” Before I could respond, she rapped sharply on the door, which opened to reveal Lady Nairn.
“Enter, Lilidh Gruoch MacPhee,” said Lily’s grandmother, and Lily stepped through the door, pulling me with her. Around the room, the gathered company strained forward to hear.
Exhaling sharply, Lily blew a strand of red from her face, fixed Sybilla with her gaze, and began to speak:
What you see when you awake,
Do it for your true love take;
Love and languish for his sake.
Be it lynx, or cat, or bear,
Leopard or boar with bristled hair:
In your eye, whate’er appears
When you wake, it is your dear:
Wake when some vile thing is near.
Whirling on her heel, Lily strode from the room, slamming the door so hard that the antlers rattled on the walls.
The company stood stunned. She’d known, of course, what to do, I realized. One would, growing up in this house. Her question to me had been no more than a tease; she’d known exactly what she meant to say. She’d altered a few bits here and there, remembering sense rather than exact phrasing, but the words were recognizably Oberon’s—the king of fairies to his sleeping wife, Titania, the fairy queen. A love trick, you could say, if you were in a charitable mood. A magical practical joke with razored humiliation at its core, though, would be more accurate.
“But that’s not a blessing,” quavered the woman with the silver cross. “That’s another curse.”
Sybilla rose, coolly surveying the company, her eyes coming to rest at last on Jason. “And how does the curse end? Oh, that’s right: Titania waked, and straightway loved an ass .” Sweeping across the room, she disappeared through a narrow door onto a balcony.
With a groan, Jason strode after her. “Gallus lass,” said a deep Scottish voice. The ginger-haired man.
“Sybilla or Lily?” snapped Lady Nairn. She wore her hair swept back again today, and she was
“You believe all that voodoo twaddle?” growled Jason out in the passageway.
“It’s about respect, not belief,” I said shortly. “Tell that to Medusa in gray,” Jason retorted. “Auld Callie,” said Lily. Standing there in a green dress with faux-medieval trumpet sleeves, her flame-red hair floating about her face, she was near tears of fury. “She’s playing one of the witches. The kids in the village think she is one.”
Auld Callie, I thought suddenly. That’s the name of the woman who found Sir Angus.
“I thought I saw you this afternoon,” I said to Lily. “On the hill.”
“Well, you didn’t. You just saw Sybilla make a fool of me. And my grandmother let her.”
Had I been dreaming? Or was there someone else out there? The only way to find out was to go back. I started down the passage.
“Oh, no,” said Jason, grabbing my arm. “You’re not going anywhere till you get us out of this.”
His grip tightened. It was going to be faster to give in and show him how to exorcise the curse than to argue. Under my terse direction, Jason turned three times clockwise and then pounded on the door to the hall, asking to be let back in. Sybilla opened the door. “ Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you, ” he said as he stepped back through it. Sybilla gave him a smile of incandescent triumph, and then, without acknowledging Lily at all, she shut the door behind him.
“Cow,” shot Lily. She spun around three times and crossed to the door, her knuckles pausing a few inches out. “What should I say?”
I glanced anxiously down the corridor. “You have to quote from one of the lucky plays. Jason went with Merchant of Venice. Why don’t you do Midsummer ?”
She shrugged. “Sure.”
“An old standby is Hand in hand with fairy grace, will we sing and bless this place .”
She looked back, her sea-green eyes alight with mischief. “You should have said that up on the hill. It’s a fairy hill, you know.” Before I could respond, she rapped sharply on the door, which opened to reveal Lady Nairn.
“Enter, Lilidh Gruoch MacPhee,” said Lily’s grandmother, and Lily stepped through the door, pulling me with her. Around the room, the gathered company strained forward to hear.
Exhaling sharply, Lily blew a strand of red from her face, fixed Sybilla with her gaze, and began to speak:
What you see when you awake,
Do it for your true love take;
Love and languish for his sake.
Be it lynx, or cat, or bear,
Leopard or boar with bristled hair:
In your eye, whate’er appears
When you wake, it is your dear:
Wake when some vile thing is near.
Whirling on her heel, Lily strode from the room, slamming the door so hard that the antlers rattled on the walls.
The company stood stunned. She’d known, of course, what to do, I realized. One would, growing up in this house. Her question to me had been no more than a tease; she’d known exactly what she meant to say. She’d altered a few bits here and there, remembering sense rather than exact phrasing, but the words were recognizably Oberon’s—the king of fairies to his sleeping wife, Titania, the fairy queen. A love trick, you could say, if you were in a charitable mood. A magical practical joke with razored humiliation at its core, though, would be more accurate.
“But that’s not a blessing,” quavered the woman with the silver cross. “That’s another curse.”
Sybilla rose, coolly surveying the company, her eyes coming to rest at last on Jason. “And how does the curse end? Oh, that’s right: Titania waked, and straightway loved an ass .” Sweeping across the room, she disappeared through a narrow door onto a balcony.
With a groan, Jason strode after her. “Gallus lass,” said a deep Scottish voice. The ginger-haired man.
“Sybilla or Lily?” snapped Lady Nairn. She wore her hair swept back again today, and she was
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