5.3 The Shetland Witch, or, Atropos Wants Her Shears Back

In which Atropos escapes, and flies.

‘I’ll just check on our visitor before we go out,’ Ishabel said, and left the kitchen.

They had begun to clear the table of teacups and plates when Ishabel called out. ‘Damn, she’s gone.’

Hazel followed close behind Maggie as they hurried into the spare room.

The bed had not been slept in, and the curtains had been pulled open unevenly.

‘Where does she think she can go?’ Ishabel said, looking about her.

‘Look at the wardrobe!’

Its door was swinging wide, and the stacked blanket bags inside had been thrown across the floor.

‘Where on earth has she gone?’ Maggie demanded. ‘Narnia?’

Hazel started to laugh.

‘She could be anywhere,’ Ishabel said sadly, restacking the bags inside and closing the wardrobe door. ‘Didn’t Avril say she was a shape-shifter? She’s probably a spider under the bed now. But she’ll be cold, wherever she is. She’s only got the one dress and it hadn’t had time to dry. She wouldn’t put a nightie on. She hasn’t even taken a blanket with her.’

She put out the light and closed the door. They put on their coats, and left the croft, closing the front door behind them.

The white spider crept out from under the bed. With a brief flicker of shape and movement Atropos was standing in the middle of the room, then she sat down heavily on the bed. She looked at the night sky through the window. She did not like being inside this place: breathing was difficult.

She did not understand why she could not push her hand past the draped cloth or feel the night air, but she felt too tired to think what spell it might be. She wanted to leave. There was something she ought to remember, but she could not think what it was. The feeling lay at the back of her mind like a piece of grit, and she shook her head irritably.

It was dark in the quiet room, and she knew that the sorceresses had left the house. She breathed steadily, feeling strength come back into her heart and her legs. She felt feverish, but her hands were warmer now. Her dress was still damp and felt unpleasantly rough on her skin. Her bare feet were cold on the warm floor rug. But she had to go.

She pushed at the door. It did not move. Sighing, she changed into a spider and ran underneath its wooden edge. She changed back again.

She trod carefully on the peculiar weaving on the floor, moving towards the house door. She studied its shining metal latch. She pushed at the door experimentally, but it did not swing open. It was too tightly fitted for her to run underneath it again.

She tried touching the latch, and then pushing at it. Then she realised that this part, here, could be pushed downwards. There was a click and the door jumped forward at her. Cold air rushed in, and she jerked backwards. Then she slipped outdoors.

When she was standing in the shadows across the road from the house Atropos realised that she was shivering again, but she felt stronger now that she was free of the sorceresses’ house. The stream ran quietly but busily in the dark.

She stood quietly in the dark, waiting for the moon to show her where she was. But the clouds were thick. She felt she must be very far north, perhaps even beyond where the giants lived, but the greenness still confused her. She had never smelt so many green fields. The houses were strange, but they were still human houses. Human houses, and … ah. There were other houses here too, perhaps belonging to people like her. She could feel the traces of dead shrines in the earth: old fires, cold stones. But there were tracks. If she had had her full strength she would have been able to see the tracks running over the land, and could have followed them to find these people who were not human. She was too weak now to even look.

Perhaps she could find a cave here. Far off, in all directions, she could hear the waves crashing against rocks, and felt the thundering of the sea all around. Interesting: she was on an island.

She took a deep breath. Now, she must search for what she came for, and she must find them before Zeus came to find her. She breathed, and focused.

Something was nagging at her again. She shook her head, irritably. It was still stuck in her mind, snagged there like a broken nail, getting in the way. She worked at it as if it were a seed in her tooth.

And then it came free. Atropos staggered sideways and sat down suddenly in the damp grass at the edge of the road.

With a rush of unfolding pictures and sounds her mind was flooded with new smells, new words, the feeling of a pointed trowel in her hand – what was ‘trowel’? she asked herself in amazement – and a bizarre memory – whose memory? – of scraping at the earth, uncovering a stone.

A stone. Atropos gasped, and focused on the memory that had appeared in her mind like a beacon. She was near a stone. The other young sorceress had been there. Atropos now knew who the pictures proliferating like butterflies in her head belonged to. She had found a stone, and the stone had been hot, beating hot all that day with a heat signal that Atropos recognised. That stone was nearby.

In one smooth movement Atropos stood up, and changed into her falcon shape. She leaped from the ground to fly silently overhead, heading straight for the signal that called to her. This was who she was. Now she felt her powers again.

She flew low to follow the call to the source, over the fields to the edge of the island.

The sorceresses were already there. Of course they were. She was coming to the appointed place, and they were there to help her. It was all unfolding as if it was all intended to happen.

Episode 5.4 will follow.

The Shetland Witch © Kate Macdonald 2024.

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