The Wildkin’s Curse by Kate Forsyth

been for Liliana, growing up in this sorrow-haunted shambles. He thought how very lonely her childhood must have been, and pity pierced him, sharp as a thorn.

CHAPTER 7
Rattle Those Bones
    I T WAS WONDERFUL TO OPEN THE DOOR TO THE HIDDEN ROOM and find it warm and dancing with firelight. An old woman was boiling something in a cauldron on the fire. A curtain had been drawn back, revealing a stone hipbath steaming gently in an alcove nearby.
    The woman was tiny, reaching no higher than Zed’s elbow. She wore a patched and darned brown dress, with an old shawl tied crosswise over her shoulders, its ends knotted behind. Her hair was snowy white, growing away from a distinct v-shaped point in the middle of her forehead which Merry remembered his mother calling a widow’s peak. It was a sign of a woman who would outlive her husband, Maglen had said.
    The old woman’s heart-shaped face was deeply furrowed and blotched with brown spots. Her back was hunched and her hands quivered.
    â€˜Stiga!’ Liliana held out her arms welcomingly. ‘It’s so good to see you. I didn’t think I would. I know how you hate strangers.’
    Stiga stared at the boys with black, hostile eyes. ‘Sought to see them,’ the old woman muttered. ‘Sought to hear them for myself, sought to keep my owlet safe.’ She had so few teeth the words were oddly sibilant.
    Zed stretched out his hand, a warm smile on his face. ‘Hello, Stiga. I’m Zed.’
    She pressed closer to Liliana. ‘Starkin,’ she hissed.
    â€˜Only half,’ Zed said, letting his hand fall. ‘My father is all hearthkin.’
    Merry stepped forward next, trying to move as smoothly and lightly as Zed. ‘Starkin,’ Stiga hissed again, shrinking back. She reminded Merry of a frightened wild creature, a broken bird trembling in the gaze of a cat.
    â€˜Even less than Zed,’ Merry said. ‘My father’s mother. I never knew her.’
    â€˜Do not be afraid, Stiga,’ Liliana said, showing more gentleness than Merry had ever seen from her before. ‘The Erlrune trusts them, and you know she sees clearly.’
    The old woman pointed one gnarled finger at Zed. ‘You fear the wrong fate. Fear those you love, not those you hate.’
    Zed looked surprised. He tugged at the collar of his shirt as if it had grown suddenly too tight. Stiga moved her intense gaze to Merry’s face. He felt a cold wash of dread.
    â€˜Three times you’ll play dice with death, and the third time you’ll yield your breath,’ she said.
    â€˜Don’t say that, Stiga!’ Liliana cried in clear distress. ‘To speak death is to invite death. Say it’s not true!’
    Stiga stared at Merry unblinkingly. ‘The only thing that can save you is the very thing that killed you.’
    â€˜What does that mean?’ Liliana demanded. ‘It makes no sense, Stiga.’
    â€˜When?’ Merry managed to say.
    â€˜When there’s dawn at sunset, and frost in spring,’ Stiga said.
    Liliana sighed in relief. ‘How can there be dawn at sunset? Surely that means never.’
    Stiga looked sorrowful. ‘I see what I see, I tell what I see, and I tell you I see three deaths.’
    â€˜But he can be saved? By the very thing that killed him?’
    Stiga nodded slowly, than reached out to touch Liliana’s face with one age-spotted hand, so clenched and twisted with age it was like a claw. ‘Remember.’
    â€˜I will,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
    â€˜I have food for you, my owlet, but you must wash first. You must cleanse yourselves, you must eat and sleep in peace. It will be the last time for many moons that you shall sleep so.’
    Zed cast Merry a quick conspiratorial grin. It was clear he thought the tiny old woman more than a little mad. Merry was not so sure. Her words had sent a chill through him that raised all the hairs on his skin. He crossed his arms