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

In which Atropos has decided what to do.

‘Will we have to speak to him in Greek?’ Maggie asked, and Hazel almost spluttered into her mug. But then she realised that she had never seen Maggie, or Ishabel, in battle against a god. What, in a real crisis, could they not do?

Atropos shook her head. ‘Not Greek. She,’ and she gestured at Ishabel, ‘said Greek, Greece, is my country, but I am older.’ She paused to think, and then said finally. ‘We are oldest. Before human names. Before humans.’

‘But how did you speak to your sisters?’

Atropos said some words in a language that Hazel had never heard before. It was flowing, rippling, almost glittering in the air with the sharp edges of the words. She paused to see the effect of what she had said, then barked a short laugh.

‘That is my language. We, the gods, we all speak the same language. My sisters had human servants, after we left the grove, and spoke to them in human language, but I do not know its name.’

She looked thoughtful. ‘When they lived among humans without their tools, my sisters were turning into humans too. So will I.’

There was a silence. The sun was well above the garden wall now and shone into the kitchen. Atropos looked as if she was sitting in a spotlight. She sat like a queen, as if she were only fifty years old, although the lines on her brown face and neck suggested something far more ancient than wrinkles on skin. Her eyes were bright with intelligence. She held a spoon with ease.

‘I cannot go back now. Tell me! What is this country? How far am I from my own place?’

Hazel plunged in. ‘Well, I think you are at least ten thousand years into your future, probably a lot more. And you are in Shetland, which was probably at the ends of the earth for sailors in your time. It’s a group of islands. Very far north, and further west –’ But then Hazel faltered. Would Atropos have ever seen a map?

‘Ah!’ The numbers seem to have passed her by, but Atropos was smiling. ‘We agreed, Klotho and Lakhesis and I, that we would send the tools to the ends of the earth. So the human I chose has fulfilled his task. Good.’ Her expression was satisfied.

‘You asked a human?’

‘Of course. We agreed where the Tools should be sent, but only I sent them, so Zeus could not know when or when. I walked into human time out of our own time, so Zeus could not know when I had taken them. I found a temple of Themis, the Great Mother. Then I waited until a sea captain came to make an offering. He was glad to be paid to sail to the ends of the earth and I gave him good winds for his journey. And then I returned home, and nobody knew. Until Zeus found me.’

‘There’s one thing I don’t understand,’ Maggie said. ‘Did we not just see the shears, the great scissors, being broken, by him?’

Atropos nodded slowly. ‘He does not believe they are broken. He thinks they can be mended,’ she said with bitterness. ‘They cannot be mended. But they could be changed into something different, and that is why he must never have the broken shears. The blades can tear bodies and minds apart. He would enjoy that.’

Ishabel asked, ‘Can you stop him?’

Atropos thought for a moment. ‘If I do not, I will find out if I can die like a human. It is the not-dying that is the worst. Waiting for death because the pain of the body while it is still breathing is unendurable,’ she said conversationally. ‘I have seen it often, when I had to wait for Lakhesis to measure the length of the life-thread before I could make the cut, to make an end. It is terrible to hear. Zeus wants to control that because he feeds on the terror and the pain.’

‘I must stop him,’ and here she paused to make a careful forkful of fried bread and bacon. After she had finished her mouthful she smiled. ‘Then I will find a place here.’

Ishabel and Maggie looked at each other.

‘We’ll find you a place, never fear. Now, I went to the Seaman’s Mission charity shop last night. I got the key from my neighbour who volunteers there,’ Maggie explained, ‘and I got some clothes for you. You’re too tall for our things. I put some of my spare underwear and socks in there too, they’ll fit you.’ She brought the carrier bag round to Atropos’s side of the table and took out the clothes to show her, one by one.

Atropos nodded her thanks, and smiled as she fingered the yellow woollen sweater, softened by many washings.

‘The jacket’s a man’s but it’s a small so it should fit you, and the jeans are extra-long M&S. Go and try them on.’ Maggie gestured towards the spare room, and Atropos obediently gathered the clothes in her arms and left the kitchen.

The witches looked at each other.

‘Good call, Maggie,’ Hazel said. ‘What about shoes?’

‘I’ve got a bag of boots and shoes in the car. I had to guess at her shoe size. I’ll take back the things that she doesn’t want.’

Maggie leant back in the chair, and folded her arms.

‘She’s quite in control of herself now, don’t you think?’ she said. ‘She was all over the place last night, using her power and shapeshifting like it was normal.’

‘I want to know the extent of her powers,’ Ishabel said, with decision. ‘Last night she thought she could control us but we stopped her. Not easily, but we could do it. I want to know if that’s just us, or her not being in her own place, or something else.’

‘What could stop her?’ Hazel asked, her anxiety making her voice squeak.

‘I think that her powers are diminishing because she’s out of her own time. I was telling Hazel last night, Maggie: if she stays here, with us, Atropos will become human.’

‘I wouldn’t mind if she kept some of her powers, as long as she stays on our side.’

Episode 7.1 will follow.

The Shetland Witch © Kate Macdonald 2024.

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