The Islands of the Blessed

“Please, please, please, take me for a walk.”

Pega started to object and then, seeing the little girl’s anxious face, relented. “Oh, very well. While the cream rises, you and I can hunt for bugs in the garden. I’ll let you feed them to the hens.”

“Make sure she doesn’t eat them herself,” said Ythla slyly.

“Make sure you don’t find them in your hair,” retorted Pega, sweeping Hazel through the door.

The house fell silent as Ymma and Ythla finished tidying and sweeping. They worked silently, each anticipating the movements of the other like a pair of wolves. Ymma gathered a handful of dirt and moved swiftly to the milk pail, and Ythla whisked off the cover.

“What are you doing?” said Jack, stepping out of the shadows.

Ymma screamed and dropped the dirt on the floor. “Where did you come from?” she cried. Ythla’s face had turned white.

“I’m a bard. I come and go where I will.” Jack strode forward and restored the cover to the milk.

“You’re a damned wizard!” Ymma spat at him. Then, perhaps recalling that Jack was the son of the house, she smiled sweetly. “It was a clever trick, though, wasn’t it, Ythla?” Her sister nodded enthusiastically. “I’m truly sorry. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”

Jack watched coldly as they left. He’d observed them teasing Hazel and then sitting back contentedly as she was scolded for bad behavior. One of their favorite tricks was to hold food in front of the little girl and then snatch it away.

“Oopsie!” sang Ythla on one occasion, yanking a piece of cheese away for the third time. The little girl reacted with the ear-piercing screech that only a sprogling could produce. Mother ran in.

“I want my cheese,” wailed Hazel.

“You really, really must learn not to cry every time you have a hunger pang,” Mother scolded, taking her into her arms.

“But they took my cheese!” Hazel pointed at the Tanner girls.

“Don’t make up tales, darling. It isn’t nice,” said Mother. By now Ythla had popped the morsel into her mouth. “I think you’ll feel a lot nicer with a nap.”

“No, I won’t,” grumbled Hazel, but she followed Mother up the ladder to the loft. This was a huge improvement on the little girl’s behavior from when she first arrived. Pega had drummed the importance of obedience into her head.

Blewit was right. I haven’t been paying attention, thought Jack. He’d discovered why Hazel had so many tantrums and why everyone was so short-tempered. The Tanner girls might even have been responsible for some of Thorgil’s evil moods earlier.

Jack waited until the Tanners had departed for their hovel. Pega and Hazel had fallen asleep in each other’s arms at the far end of the house. In a low voice he described everything he’d observed to his parents.

“Ymma and Ythla are mistreating Hazel?” said Mother. “You must be mistaken. Why, only this morning Ymma told me she’d never seen a more adorable child.”

“She’s lying,” Jack said bluntly.

Mother looked upset. “As for stealing, I’ve noticed a few turnips go missing, but the Tanners have been dreadfully poor. I’d hate to punish them for a crime born of hunger.”

Jack’s hopes fell. He’d been counting on her support.

“Just how did you find this out?” said Father.

Jack knew he couldn’t admit to using magic. Nothing was more likely to start a lecture about demons dragging wizards down to Hell. “I’ve simply been around more. The Tanners are making Pega unhappy as well.”

Father yawned deeply and removed his shoes. “It’s only women’s fiddle-faddle,” he said.

“They might drive her away.”

“Where would she go?” Father said comfortably. “It isn’t as though people are lining up to hire such an ill-favored lass. The Tanners have been useful and the girls are excellent Christians. They join me for prayers, which is more than I can say for you.”

Jack was praying at that very moment—for patience. “Doesn’t it bother you that Ymma and Ythla lie, steal, and play nasty tricks?”

“Seems to me”—Father cast a glance at the loft where his bed lay—“that you’re mightily free with advice for a lad. Seems to me you’ve learned a few nasty tricks yourself, hanging about in shadows and doing wizardry.” And Jack knew that the Tanner girls had got to his father first and that there was no more point to arguing. “Clean up your own sty before you come squealing to me,” Father advised. He lumbered to his feet and climbed the ladder. Mother, with an apologetic look, followed.

Jack kicked the straw of his bedding and slammed his fist into the wall, only hurting himself. Fearing to wake Pega and Hazel, he went outside to cool off.