Page 60 of Heart of the Wren
“What are they?” Carol asked. “They feel wrong. I can see them in my head and in my eyes but they don't match up... They're not right.”
“Look.” I pointed to the ground as we backed into the farmhouse. “Look at the snow behind them. There aren’t any footprints.”
Mairead pointed to my holly wreath hanging on the front door. Mywreath of protection. She flicked her finger in the air and the wreath disintegrated, shedding its twine, its leaves, its berries, even the willow hoop unravelled, spilling onto the ground.
I slammed the door closed and took Lorcan by the shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I was wrong. There is a cycle being played out here, a pattern. But it’s not the one I thought. You’re not the warrior, and you’re not the poet, and you’re not the groom. You’re the wren.”
Chapter 35
DARA
“LOCK THE doors. Lorcan, lock all the doors! Now!” I darted to the square hallway at the rear of the kitchen to make sure the back door was closed while Lorcan fumbled with his keys to the front door.
The dogs cowered and whined so I calmed them down and led them to the greenhouse. “Good girls, stay here, okay? It’ll be okay. I promise.”
“What’s happening?” Lorcan shouted. “Dara, what’s going on?”
I ran upstairs, as fast as I could, with the others in tow. I pulled back the net curtain. The trio of Wrenboys stood silently as snowlanded on them. I hurried into the bathroom which faced the side of the house. “They are more out there.”
Carol checked her window, at the rear of the house. “They’re out the back, too! Five, no, six more!”
Bullseye wandered around the landing. “What are yis all getting so worked up about? They’re only Wrenboys. Give them some food or spare change and they’ll go away.”
“They’re not from the village,” Carol said. “I made the Wrenboy masks and I don’t recognise any of those ones.”
“You said Clíona was coming to take me away,” Lorcan said with a frown. “What’s she got to do with the Wrenboys?”
“They’ve gotten muddled up in her story. The photo in your bedroom was the first thing to break, wasn’t it? The one of you and Bullseye dressed as Wrenboys when you were young? She’s imprinted on it, used it as a medium to act in the world. The same way I use my tattoos to focus my magic, to impart my will on the world, she’s using the Wrenboys to focus hers.”
“But they aren’t part of her story.”
I could only shrug. “She’s a creature made of magic. Witches reenact Persephone’s decent into the underworld, or Osiris’s death and rebirth, or a hundred other ancient myths — ancientstories— to bring about a change, to impart our will on the world. Clíona’s harnessing the power of the Wrenboy tradition. She’s taken in Mairead as well, because she’s part of your story.”
“She’s out there…” Lorcan said.
I held the side of his face. “But you know it isn’t really her, don’t you?”
We all returned to the living room to shut the curtains. As Bullseye pulled them closed, a Wrenboy dashed to the window, startling him and making him fall backwards onto his armchair.
The Wrenboy, face obscured by the cone-shaped straw mask which covered his entire head, lay his hands upon the glass. The deathly silence which followed was cracked by the raising of his voice. “The wren, the wren, the king of all birds.”
Another Wrenboy joined him in placing his hands on the window. “St Stephen’s Day was caught in the furze.”
Carol picked up a poker from the fireplace. “What are they doing?”
Bullseye put himself between her and the window.
More Wrenboys approached the window, all singing low and in unison, their voices muffled by the glass. “We got him there as you can see.”
One of them shook a staff tied with ribbons. “And pasted him up on a holly tree.”
A blast of chill air issued from the doorway.
“The tarp.” I hurried to the kitchen to find the tarpaulin which had been covering the shattered kitchen window frame billowing unnaturally outward. It had been shredded, as if by an animal’s claws, and blue ribbons wafted into the night air.
The haystack Wrenboy — biggest of the group by far — was right outside. “We up with our wattles and gave him a fall.” He took a step closer. “And brought him here to show you all.”
I tried to close the door between the kitchen and the hallway but my hand stuck fast to the handle. The door wouldn’t budge an inch. I heaved and heaved with all my strength but the door wouldn’t move and I couldn’t let go.
