Blackthorn Winter by Liz Williams

Author:Liz Williams [Williams, Liz]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: NewCon Press
Published: 2020-12-16T23:00:00+00:00

Aln did not say anything more. She crouched in the bottom of the little round boat as the river took the coracle up and carried it along. When she closed her eyes Luna seized her moment and twitched the sheepskin aside. The otter-faced thing lay curled in the coracle. Its eyes were open and stared at nothing. The claw-tipped twigs of its fingers occasionally twitched, as if the thing dreamed, as a dog dreams.

Luna replaced the sheepskin and sat back, her hand to her stomach. She felt shaken and yet strong. There were no more pains within. And the urge to wee all the time had gone, thank God. She thought, without knowing where the thought had come from: it’s going to be all right. The voice was strong, too, sounding quite sure, and it was her own. Perhaps she had sent herself a message, from some future time? At least the motion wasn’t making her sick. She looked over the side of the coracle, into the black swirl. The current was fast and choppy: creamy brown froth splattered the little waves. There was no moon and no visible source of light, and yet Luna found that she was able to see. The water took them past islands, a low mound with some kind of building on it, a ruined tower and fallen stones. Then, over the water, she saw an island with an actual house on it: a mansion of some kind. All the windows were lit up and there were people moving within. She could almost hear the laughter and chatter of a house party and glimpsed a woman in a gown of golden silk. Luna opened her mouth to call out, vain though it would have been against the rush of water, but Aln’s eyes suddenly snapped open and she caught Luna’s wrist in a hand like a vice.

“Don’t.”

Luna subsided into the coracle. When she looked back the house was dark, overgrown and with the roof half-fallen in.

She must have dozed after that, aware that Aln was alert and watching. She did not dream. When she once more woke, it was to find that a silver wash of light illuminated the waves. No islands were visible, only a distant line of grey shore. Ahead, lay the open sea.

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