Page 5 of The Red Woman and the White Bear

When those stars align with the threads of Her fate, sacrifice begets a dormant magic innate.

Beside Her, a great White Bear shall tread, a guardian and companion through trialsahead.

In a union unmatched with a bond beyond compare, their harmony is forged by this destiny they share.

The softly-breathing thicket quieted around them, the atmosphere becoming pensive. Reverent. The rhyme had a clear effect on the forest and the Shadowwood Mother, but its meaning was lost on Aisling. She hesitated, mulling over the couplets, searching within them for anything that might feel familiar or in any way instructive. She could tell it was important, she just didn’t know why.

“I don’t know what any of that means,” she admitted, frustration welling slowly in her chest.

“Of course you don’t,” the Shadowwood Mother said. “No one does.”

“That can’t be the whole thing,” Aisling argued. There was more, there had to be. None of those words, pretty though they were, meant anything at all. They were no more useful than a children’s nursery rhyme. “Doesn’t it say anything about how? Or where? Or when?”

Now they were both frustrated. “It’s a prophecy, girl, not an instruction manual.”

“I’m not even a redhead, and Briar…” Aisling looked back down the tunnel to where her dog was rolling on his back in a patch of mud, filthy from his nose to his tail. “Briar’s hardly a bear.”

“You humans,” the Shadowwood Mother clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Alwaysso literal.”

“Then how can you be sure it has anything to do with me? Is it just because I helped the sprite?” Aisling was beginning to feel dizzy, as though there wasn’t enough oxygen left in the small space. Despite the cold, sweat dripped from her brow. It stung her eye before she could wipe it away with the back of her hand.

“Because you wererecognizedby the sprite.” The Shadowwood Mother turned back to the papers, rooting around once again. The next one she found quicker than the first. It, too, was printed vertically, and framed with illustrations so small Aisling could only imagine the hands of a sprite, or something like it, being capable of sketching such detailed markings.

“There will come three signs—a convergence—that will signal the coming of the Red Woman.” The tip of the faerie’s finger traced the lines down the page as she read aloud. “All will be of the natural world. The first will be sent by Aethar: the sun will rise to hang blood red in the sky. The second—”

Aisling interrupted her with a sharp laugh. “Wildfires have been burning up north for a month now; the sun has been red because of the smoke in the air. It happens nearly every year around this time. It’s nothing out of the ordinary.”

The Shadowwood Mother shot her a harsh glare before she continued: “The secondwill come from the Low One: there will bloom an eclipse of pale green Luna moths. And the third will be a consequence of nature, when the tides are drawn out beyond their normal reach.”

Aisling’s wheels were turning, rationalizing. She hadn’t a clue who the entities were that the Shadowwood Mother was referringto by name. “Luna moths are rare here, but they’re not unheard of,” she tried. Her voice came out weaker than she would have liked.

“Sprites are far more intelligent than you might expect, and they can certainly get around quicker than a faerie with ancient bones like mine. They love few things more than shiny gifts—for a handful of new coins, I keep a number of them in my employ.” The Shadowwood Mother glanced up into the tangled brambles that the sprite had disappeared into. “They are my eyes. I am the keeper of your prophecy, among others, and I have been watching for this convergence for many, many years. The red sun has risen, and the Luna moths hatched soon after. When I smelled the shifting tides here on your island, I sent my eyes out to find you.”

“But how—” Aisling started.

“Sprites have an uncanny ability to sense things. There is something special about you, Aisling, and I don’t doubt there is more to you than even you might understand. It is no coincidence that you and the sprite met as you did, nor is it coincidence that you are already familiar with our kind.”

Suddenly overwhelmed, Aisling shifted to sit in the dirt so that she could draw up her knees and drop her head down between them. She needed the earth to stop spinning so that she could think straight.

A hand patted the top of her head. The Shadowwood Mother had reached across the space to comfort Aisling, the gesture stiff but kind. “Take a breath, girl.”

“How can I be a part of something I don’t understand?” Aisling pressed. “How am I supposed to know what to do?” Shewished the thicket were big enough for her to stand and pace; the confines of its thorny walls were only constricting her lungs further.

“The centuries-old war between the Fae Courts has grown out of control; its devastation has reached an unprecedented magnitude. Innocents are dying. The land is dying—our forests, our rivers. Our homes. It is both the fate and the burden of the Red Woman to bring peace.” When Aisling raised her head, the Shadowwood Mother was peering at her with dark eyes. They weren’t looking at her, but through her.Intoher. Scanning and parsing through whatever was inside of Aisling that tied her to this prophecy.

So she was meant to stop a war. Trepidation brought Aisling’s hands to tremble and her heart to race. The significance of this moment, and the weight of the prophecy, were almost greater than she could bear. “What if I can’t? Or if I refuse?” she challenged. She could crawl her way back out of the thicket now, before this went any further. And yet, she made no move to leave. Something in the Shadowwood Mother’s eyes held her rapt.

“You bore witness to the answer to that question tonight when the earth moved beneath your feet.” The Shadowwood Mother drew a bony hand across the dirt floor. “The tremors are echoes of war. Of magic. Of hatred. There will be more.”

Aisling frowned. “More earthquakes?”

“Moreechoes—quakes, tidal shifts. The weather will change, and the land along with it. And not only here on your island, but anywhere there is a Thin Place. Soon enough, the Veil will weaken further. The echoes will spread. And then things will begin to come through.” The Shadowwood Mother lowered her voice as she deliveredthis warning, leaning forward so the lantern’s light illuminated her features. The harsh shadows it cast across her face made her wrinkled skin appear as tree bark.

“What kinds of things?” Aisling lowered her voice, too, almost whispering now.

“Things that have not been strong enough to come through for a very long time, but that have been waiting on the edges of Wyldraíocht for their turn. These are not the Fae of your mother’s tales, Aisling. These will not be so friendly, and they will certainly not be confined to the borderlands. Your home will be theirs to take.”

Aisling’s mind strayed momentarily back to her friends, sleeping soundly not three miles away. Unguarded. Unaware. She shivered.

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