Gormglaith | Page 6

cards. It was all fylgjic but I was nettled by this gnawsome snare... as if I was the one they truly wanted."
"That'd never haunt the henge. I guess even back then I had a stern streak as long as my legs. Giorsal and I slipped away to loch Blairie's wooded shore by a fleet of swans who'd swum up, where she reminded me we'd still be together, living beyond the highlands at Haethwyck by the coastal cliffs of Wrath Ness at the northwestern evermost of Scotland. Then she wept and said I might plight alone."
"I thought of that tale in the Eachdraidh, how 2300 years ago the Banning-Trendels of New Zealand were heartbroken when Meryl Melangell nixed over like worries having to do to her sister Meredith. Plighting another clannin nineteen moons after, they brought in Meryl's twin daughter Morwen of Windborn who later lived a meed life among the Banning-Trendels as a banshee."
"So before swans we grew a wild notion. After boards and plight, I'd grasp and carry my twin daughter, we'd raise her in a snug clannin spilled with Eachdraidh nan Fylgjic and when a maegden she and the Sparkenbanes might meet."
"Back inside I sat down at a board of black hornblende and wrote in mine own hand,"
Nix. We're wretches like Meryl and Meredith.
"That's when we left home for the nest mazes at school and five nights later we hooked up with Enid..."
Gormglaith's eyes fluoresced in the moonlight.
"Later we were so enthralled and busy clannining, we forgot about Sparkenbanes. Bryn Larach blossomed, way, with Enid braidin' ash and Giorsal spinnin' robots, Flann tuggin' the freayll and me twonkin' hex but as the years spun off we heard of their plights. They'd soon found their fourth and I was flattered. I knew Tegan Nichneven! She was a dozen moons behind me at KD pailt. Then by the time thou wast fifteen there was talk of three banshees."
"They're meant to plight whist," said Gormglaith, "to thwart fads."
Geileis smiled.
"With no hint of a fourth we guessed they might be thinking of us after all. Then it came."
"What."
"Thy coorsyn," Geileis answered, laughing, "and thou wast late! But tha bleedst like a maegden now and I got this today," she said, pulling a swatch of cloth from the wrap over her ribs.
"Grainne?"
Geileis quickly shook her head.
It was linen, token of Eachdraidh. The runes shone in bright moonbeams, written by a true hand with stark heed:
In a dale of tales so thrillin' Plait kin by flaxen linen Nigh pumpkins on pine needles Pulling moon to light what's sown Now fast under elms Bats beat wings Whilst dreaming things Towards fall and Harvest Home.
"Hmph. It's from Hackled in Hastings..." said Gormglaith.
"...Tangwen Toreth. They know how to strum the strings, huh? ...Geileis! On the noon after Tangwen wrote this in Rye... two banshees came!"
"I know. I looked it up in thy book."
"What about Findabair?"
"Findabair's like clannin..."
"What'll I do?"
Geileis shook her head as three small bats fluttered nearby.
"Maybe I could hang with them," said Gormglaith, "like for the thrill of it, kind of..."
"There are seven of them now and I glark they'll send the two they think'll thrill the most..."
"...to spill 'n sway for kin and clannin," said Gormglaith.
"I'd say sly's the word," put Geileis, smirking.
"What does our shenn Grainne have to say about all this?"
"She's rather fixated on thee, Gormglaith."
"In other words... I might stop to think of Eachdraidh and plight my bottom over to Wrath Ness like a bred 'n born kin Grendel girl."
"She told me this afternoon she knew all along it would happen. She showed up on her own saying, 'Geileis my bat, thy twin daughter Gormglaith can grip. I know her. It's thee I'm worried about!' She knows everybody," Geileis said with a gangly shrug.
Gormglaith grinned when her twin kynn took her face in hands, kissed her on the mouth then twirled to walk off. As Geileis loped towards a door of wefted panes aglow with yellow light the wind gusted, blowing straw thatch across bright eyes staring up and beyond the wych elms at a beaming harvest moon whilst broken, ragged clouds scuttered across it.
Gormglaith wandered into the farm's tangle lair, wind blown and fallain, linens ruffled, knees grass stained. Enid and Giorsal sat among brightly wafting goblins. A cast of the fat, yellow, black striped bee Gobnait had been playing with hovered near Giorsal now, busily spitting runes. It was harvest and sunrise would find them there.
Enid was once more in grey cutty sark and longstockings, Giorsal but in worn dark green ones with scuffed yellow klompen, milksome ponytails cascading over each shoulder and down her chest. They watched a deftly ghosted earth map of the moonlit farm with reapers and gleaners amid floating runes and numbers.
"Hi! How's harvest?"
"Harvest...?" asked Enid, grey eyes glowing in a blue swath of light