Magic and Myth

by Michael Scott

  Louisa wondered how old this one was.

  The stones of the building were wet and dripping, and there were strands of seaweed hanging from the higher stones. There was also a low wall running around one part of the floating island, and a few small bushes and a couple of ragged, spindly trees, which were dripping seaweed, too. The island had a rough stony beach, and Louisa could see a few silver fish flapping on the stones, where they must have been trapped when the island had risen from the sea.

  It was a fairy-island. Louisa knew it had to be true. She had often heard her grandfather tell about the islands of Tir na nOg and Hy-Brasil, which were supposed to lie off the west coast of Ireland, wrapped in a fog bank. She remembered him telling her about the other islands that were part of Tir fo Thuinn, the Land Beneath the Waves, which sometimes rose up from the bottom of the sea and drifted about for a little while before sinking back to the sea bed again. This must be one of those, she decided.

  She wondered if any of the fairy-folk actually lived on the island. She knew that there were people in the sea—Mer-Folk and Seal-Folk, and Sea-Horses and Sea-Cows—but did people really live on the island beneath the waves? She looked closely at the island again.

  “Who lit those lamps?” she asked aloud.

  “I did.”

  Louisa jumped. She spun around quickly, but there was no one there—she was the only one on the beach. She turned back to the island.

  “Who are you?” she asked, and then she said, “Where are you?”

  The door in the house on the island opened, throwing a long beam of yellow light out across the water. A tall, thin figure stepped into the light and raised its arm in a wave.

  “I am the Woman of the Isle,” the figure said. Louisa realized that the woman had not actually spoken aloud. The girl had heard her inside her head. “I will not harm you.”

  Louisa hugged herself tightly. It suddenly seemed very cold. “What’s your name?” she asked.

  The Woman of the Isle stepped out of the light and walked slowly down the winding white path that led to the beach. Louisa saw that she was very pale, and both her skin and hair had a slightly greenish tinge. She was wearing a gown that looked like it was made up out of long strands of different-colored seaweed, and she had a simple coral crown on her head. She stopped on the beach, close to the edge of the water. The island had now drifted so close that there was very little distance between the girl on the shore and the woman on the island.

  “I have no name,” she said at last, and although she didn’t move her lips, Louisa still could hear her quite clearly. She saw the woman frown. “No, that is not true; I had a name once, but it was a long, long time ago, and it has been so long since I used it that I’ve forgotten what my name was. What is yours?” she asked.

  Louisa hesitated. Names were supposed to have a little magic in them. If she told this strange woman her name, would she have power over Louisa?

  “I will not harm you,” the Woman of the Isle repeated slowly inside Louisa’s head.

  The girl nodded to herself. “My name is Louisa,” she said.

  The Woman of the Isle frowned. “Louisa…Louisa…Louisa,” she repeated slowly. “What a strange, beautiful name. I have never heard it before.”

  “Surely you can remember your own name?” Louisa asked quietly.

  The woman shook her head. “It has been so long…so long.” She pressed her pale hands to her head and thought hard. At last she looked up. “It might have been…Rhian,” she said.

  “Rhian,” Louisa said, pronouncing the strange word slowly. “That’s a lovely name.”

  The woman smiled. “It is an ancient name.”

  “Are you very old too?” the girl asked. She no longer felt afraid of the woman—just curious. Louisa suddenly wanted to know everything about her.

  Rhian smiled a little. “Very old,” she said.

  The island bumped against the shore with a crunch of sand and stones, and then stopped. Rhian reached out her hand. “Would you like to see my island?” she asked.

  Louisa hesitated for just a few moments. It was getting late and she knew she should be home…but if she only went over for a few moments, no one would know. Besides, she was dying to see the island up close! Louisa reached out her hand and hopped up onto the rocky beach of the island.

  Rhian led her around the small island. She showed her the bare trees that only flowered once in every hundred years and only bore fruit once in every thousand years—but if you managed to eat some of that fruit you would live forever. She showed her the bushes whose leaves could be woven into the finest cloth, and the grass that could be cut and shaped into warm, fleecy blankets.

  And then she showed Louisa her house.

  From the outside it looked like nothing more than a rough stone building with a thick wooden door, but from the inside it was far, far different. Louisa walked through the door and stopped in amazement. Instead of the stone walls and ceiling and bare ground that she expected, she was looking at a beautifully decorated, brightly lit room, with rich tapestries hanging down along the walls, and a lovely thick carpet on the floor. At one end of the room, a huge fire crackled in the grate, and there were two old-fashioned stools with rounded seats on either side of it.

  “But…from the outside…” she began. Louisa couldn’t even form the words through her surprise and awe.

  Rhian smiled. “It’s magic” was all she would say. “Would you like something to eat or drink?”

  “No, no.” Louisa shook her head. Her grandfather had told her never to eat or drink any of the food of fairy-land. He had told her stories about boys and girls who had done so and had gotten trapped there for years because of it. “I have to go now,” she said, “it’s getting late. My parents will be wondering what happened to me.”

  Rhian bowed and stood back, allowing Louisa to hurry outside onto the island. Night had fallen and the stars were hard and sharp in the purple-black sky.

  The woman of the isle raised her long-fingered hand and touched Louisa’s shoulder. “Before you go…is there anything you would like to say to me?” There was a strange look in her eyes, and her voice sounded strained.

  “I don’t understand,” Louisa said. Her mind swirled. “Except, of course, thank you, you have been very kind.”

  Rhian smiled sadly. “Is there nothing else?”

  Louisa backed away toward the beach. “Um…thank you again.”

  “Nothing more?” Rhian asked. Her eyes were damp with tears.

  Louisa was frightened now. She shook her head. “I’ve already said thank you,” she said. “I don’t have anything else to say to you!” Louisa jumped from the floating island onto the beach. She turned and ran, the stones rattling under her feet.

  And when she looked back the island was gone.

  Louisa hurried up the path to her house. There was a light burning in the window and the front door was open. She could see the shape of her father standing in the door, with her grandfather behind him.

  “Where have you been?” her father demanded. “Do you know what time it is? We’ve been worried sick.”

  “I’m sorry,” she panted. “But you won’t believe what happened…”

  Louisa told her story to her father, mother, brothers, and grandfather as they sat around the kitchen table drinking hot tea. Her brothers laughed and thought it was all a great joke, but neither her parents nor grandfather said anything. Once her brothers had gone to bed, her grandfather asked, “And did this lady ask you anything as you left the island?”

  Louisa looked at him strangely. “Yes, how do you know?”

  Her grandfather shook his head. “Tell me what you said first.”

  “I thanked her for her kindness,” she said.

  “And that’s all?”

  The girl nodded and yawned. “That’s all. Why?”


  Her grandfather smiled a sad little smile. “That woman was your grandmother,” he said. “I met her over sixty years ago, on a night like this. I didn’t realize then that she was one of the fairy-folk, and I fell in love with her. But when I left the island, she asked me that same question. And, like you, I just thanked her. What I didn’t know was that if I had said ‘God bless you,’ the island would have permanently connected to the shore and she could have come with me onto the beach.” He smiled sadly again. “She appears once in every seven years, looking for someone to say those three words.”

  “I didn’t know, Grandfather,” Louisa said sadly.

  The old man smiled. “Of course not. And don’t you worry—she’ll be back in seven years’ time. I might meet her then…”

  The floating isle still appears off the west coast of Erin every seven years, and the Woman of the Isle is still waiting for someone to say those three simple words.

  Into the Otherworld

  The fairy-folk usually have no contact with human beings themselves, but sometimes they allow certain people to work for them. These people, because of their knowledge of the fairy-world and its magic, are usually known as fairy-doctors, or wise women. Of course, many people claimed to know about the fairy-land, but few of them actually did.

  One woman who really did know the Sidhe—the fairy-folk and their ways—was Nano Hayes…

  A young girl named Noreen walked along behind the flock of sheep, driving them home down the winding country lane. She carried a long leafless branch in one hand, which she used to direct the slow animals. They knew their own way back to the farm by now, and usually were no trouble; only Gabby, the old she-goat, insisted on wandering away.

  It was late in the evening and the sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows across the ground. Noreen watched her shadow dance across the hard stony ground and wriggle up the side of a wall. She was only ten years old, but her shadow looked huge, and the warm golden sunlight turned her red hair to gold. Noreen spotted Gabby straying off the path and reached out to touch her back with the long branch. “Come on, Gabby, don’t go wandering now. We’re nearly home.”

  The goat looked back over its shoulder and stared at her with its big soft eyes. The young girl smiled. Although the goat was the only one of her charges that ever gave her any trouble, it was still her favorite. She ran her hand along its hairy back and scratched behind the short twitching ears. “No time for playing now, Gabby, I’ve got to get you home and get you milked.” The goat nodded and then obediently trotted off after the rest of the sheep.

  Noreen continued driving the animals until she reached a little rise in the road, and then she stopped for a few moments, as she always did when the weather was clear. From here she could see right across the fields and down onto the beach and out over the waves to where the sun was setting. The sunsets at this time of year were always so beautiful.

  Gabby came up and nuzzled its wet nose into Noreen’s hand, and the young girl gently stroked its head. “Look,” she whispered, “look at the colors.” The goat’s ears twitched as if it understood what she had said.

  Noreen and Gabby stood on the high road and watched the sun sink slowly into the sea. When the sun touched the water on the horizon, it seemed to set the sea on fire. One moment the sea and sky were all pinks and purples, and the clouds were orange and gold, and the next moment all the colors had deepened. The sky was now mostly red and a smoky gray color, and the sea was all deep reds and oranges just where the sun had gone down, although farther away it was a deep purple and blue. There were dark shadows everywhere.

  Noreen looked down onto the beach. The warm orange sands were now dark brown, and only the white line of the waves showed her where the sea began and the beach stopped. Below her the fields had all fallen into shadow, but she could still see the white lines of the stone walls running across them, dividing them into rough squares. With her back to the lane, what she didn’t see was a small square door opening in the stone wall behind her.

  Suddenly Gabby turned around and made an angry sort of sound. Noreen turned to see what had upset the goat—and got a terrible fright. There was a small old woman standing right behind her! Noreen squealed, but the old woman smiled and raised a wrinkled hand.

  “I’m sorry I frightened you,” the old woman said quickly. “I mean you no harm.”

  Noreen’s heart was still pounding, but she managed a small smile in return. “You scared me,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone else up here.”

  The woman smiled again. She was small and wrinkled, and looked very, very old, but her gray eyes were sharp and bright. “My name is Nano Hayes,” she said.

  Noreen frowned. She had heard that name before—but where? “I’m Noreen Ni Muirthile,” she said. “And this is Gabby,” she added, patting the goat.

  Nano Hayes looked at the goat strangely. “Yes, I’ve heard of Gabby,” she said. “I’ve heard she gives the finest milk, which makes the softest goat’s cheese for miles around. Is that true?”

  Noreen smiled proudly. “It’s true. I bring her up here every day where the grass is soft and sweet.”

  The old woman nodded again, and then she looked at Noreen with her sharp bright eyes. She was wearing a long black shawl over her head and across her shoulders, so that only the wrinkled apple of her face was showing. She smiled again, but this time Noreen found the smile frightening. “I would like to borrow Gabby for a while,” she said.

  “Borrow her?” Noreen asked, shocked.

  Nano Hayes nodded. “For a little while,” she said.

  “But you can’t…I mean, I couldn’t. What do you want her for—and why Gabby? There must be hundreds of goats all over the country.”

  “There are hundreds of goats,” Nano Hayes said, “but none of them give such sweet milk, and none of their milk can be made into such lovely cheese.”

  The sun had now sunk; it was that time of indistinct mistiness before night properly fell. Noreen shivered suddenly. “But why do you need to borrow Gabby? We could sell you milk or cheese if you need it.”

  The old woman shook her head, and a slight breeze whipped up part of her dark shawl. “No, Noreen,” she said, “that wouldn’t work. I will need Gabby for…” She paused and seemed to be thinking. “Oh, at least three months.”

  “Three months!”

  Nano Hayes nodded again. “Three months, perhaps longer. I will need fresh goat’s milk twice a day, every day for those three months, and I will need fresh goat’s cheese at least once a week. So you see why I must have Gabby close by me.”

  “But why?” Noreen was completely confused by the woman’s request.

  The old woman hesitated before answering, but at last she said, “I need it as part of a cure…”

  “A cure?” the young girl said, and then she suddenly knew where she had heard the old woman’s name before. Her eyes lit up. “You’re Nano Hayes, the Wise Woman!” she said excitedly.

  The old woman gave a little nod.

  “My father has told me about you—he said you saved his life when he was a little boy.”

  Nano Hayes smiled. “I cured a bad cold, that’s all,” she said.

  “He says you’re a witch, and a friend of the Little People,” Noreen said quickly.

  “Well, he’s only half right,” Nano Hayes said quietly. “I’m not a witch, but I am a friend of the fairy-folk. And that’s why I need Gabby. The young princess is sick with a strange disease and no one seems to know what it is. She might be poisoned. The fairy-folk have asked me to try.”

  Noreen considered this. “Can I come with you?” she asked. “Please?”

  Nano Hayes shook her head, though her eyes danced. “Who will bring the sheep home?” she asked, nodding toward the white sheep that were still slowly wandering down the road.

  “They will find their own way
home,” Noreen said. “The road only leads to the farm. And I can pin a note to one of their backs, telling Mother and Father where I’ve gone.” She saw Nano Hayes starting to shake her head, but Noreen hurried on. “Please, it’s probably the only time I’ll ever get to see the fairy-lands. Anyway, Gabby won’t let anyone milk her but me!”

  The old woman gave a short laugh. “Girl,” she said, “I’ve milked more cows and goats than you could ever imagine. And I might not be a witch, but I know enough magic to make that animal milk herself.” She smiled gently, her eyes still sparkling. “However, if you want to come to fairy-land with me, you had better hurry up and write that note.”

  Noreen quickly searched her pockets for a scrap of paper and a stub of a pencil, and then she scribbled a note to her parents, telling them what had happened, and where she was going. She felt sure they wouldn’t mind, once they knew that she was going with Nano Hayes, the Wise Woman. Then the young girl ran down the road and tied the note to the back of one of the sheep with its own fleece. Her heart sang in her chest, and she thought she might burst with happiness.

  When she returned to the old woman, she found that she was standing beside the rock wall just off the path. Noreen looked at the wall carefully; she passed it every day, and she had never noticed anything strange about it. It looked just like any other rock wall: different-sized flat stones piled up atop each other, a few feet high. It was certainly no thicker than six or eight inches.

  “What are we waiting for?” she asked Nano Hayes.

  The old woman touched the wall with the tips of the fingers of her right hand, and immediately a green spark jumped from them onto the stones. The spark buzzed and crackled softly, and then it raced around the wall, leaving a thin green square shape on the stones. The spark then gave a final crackle and fizzled out. Nano Hayes touched the stones again—and a door swung back!