Merlin's Wood (Mythago Wood) by Robert Holdstock Read Free Book Online Page B

planned revenge on me, your sister Rebecca on the other, her face wet with tears as she held Eveline’s arm.
    Your father approached me quickly. He had two questions: had I seen or heard anything, and how should we organise a wolf hunt?
    I was about to tell him what I’d seen the night before when Rebecca turned towards me. In an instant a
charm
fell away from my eyes, or perhaps away from her, it’s impossible to tell. All I know is that she was revealed instantly as the girl in the woods, even wearing thesame skirt and cardigan. I had simply not recognised her in the forest the night before.
    I was speechless for a few seconds, then became terrified again as your tall sister ran towards me and hugged me, looking up through sorrowful eyes as she said, ‘Don’t listen to what the boys say. I’ll always come and visit you. I promise. I promise. I’ll not leave you alone for an instant!’
    My head and heart had turned cold with fear. To this day I have no idea whether I was addressed by the true girl or by the wily sylvan monster. But I know she came and visited me often, before eventually she went away, to pursue new studies in Australia.
    And I know that all thought of revealing my vision faded. How could I tell Eveline, mourning the death of her younger son, that it was her adored adopted daughter who had dragged him to the reed pond, and held him down?

The Shape-shifter’s Dream
    Martin was being shaken gently. He surfaced out of a dream in which he floated at night through drifting mist, the water of the lake lapping gently below his small boat. He woke with a shiver to find that he was still in Conrad’s fishing lodge, the lake burnished with orange as the sun began to set. A swirling flight of dark birds crowded the sky above the heart of the wood.
    ‘We should go back,’ the old man said urgently. He looked very anxious. ‘You’ve been asleep all day.’
    ‘All day?’
    ‘I couldn’t wake you. We must get away from here.’
    Martin was shocked by what he heard, and was still disturbed by Conrad’s tale, and the revelation of the cause of Sebastian’s death. He stood stiffly, groaning as he unlocked his knees. Conrad laughed sympathetically and held his arm, then offered one of his staves for support.
    They returned to the iron-roofed shack and the bosker shed his overcoat and sheepskin jacket, stoked up the fire before uncorking a flagon of cider brandy. Martin sipped the potent drink with circumspection,not knowing who might have brewed it. Conrad was less careful, shuddering as the spirit burned its way to his cold bones.
    ‘Will I make us supper?’ he asked, but Martin shook his head.
    ‘I should get back to Rebecca.’ He hesitated, realising that suddenly the thought frightened him. ‘Are you quite sure of what you’ve told me? About Rebecca?’
    ‘Quite sure. Perhaps the possession was just a brief encounter. She grieved for Sebastian like all the rest of you. I felt no evil in her when she visited. I’m sure she had come from the lake, that deadly night, but she was completely unaware of it. Perhaps, as I say, the possession was brief. I do know that later she danced through another ghost and heard song, ancient song, and became obsessed with it …’
    ‘Yes. That’s why she went away.’
    ‘And she must go away again. And you must too.’ Conrad drank heavily from the flask again, then replaced the cork. ‘Your mother sensed danger for you, just before she died.’
    ‘That’s what my Uncle Jacques said. But what danger?’
    Conrad shrugged. ‘She began to see the people on the path. She lay in bed, looking down, and saw their outlines again, just as she’d been able to see them as a child. Something she saw made her determined that even if you came for the funeral, you shouldn’t stay.’
    Martin rose from the floor by the crackling fire and turned to go. Then he asked, ‘Why did you take me to the lake? Wasn’t that a dangerous thing to do?’
    ‘Yes. But if you take no