Beginner's Guide to Curses (Kelpies)

by Lari Don

  There was no answer. She took one step closer and saw a sack blown up against the heather stems, but no fairy.

  Molly crouched down and touched the sack.

  “Leave that alone!” The fairy flew out of the heather and yelled at her in a shrill voice. “That’s a whole morning’s work. Leave it alone!”

  Molly looked over at the waving trees sending billowing gusts of air in their direction. The sack lifted off the ground for a moment.

  “You won’t want to lose it then, so I wondered if I could help. I could place this stone egg,” she held it out, the browns and coppers glowing in the afternoon sunlight, “on the sack to stop it blowing away. Then I could collect the egg later, when you’ve finished.”

  “No,” said the fairy. “I harvest heather every October and I have my own methods to ensure I don’t lose blossoms to the weather. So, no thanks, strange human child.”

  Molly frowned. “Are you sure? I mean, the wind is getting really strong now,” she said loudly, and the branches whipped around more vigorously.

  “I’m sure. Now, go away, interfering child, before your huge feet or that heavy egg crush me and my flowers.”

  “But…” Molly couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  Suddenly the sack moved, jerked fast backwards.

  Molly and the fairy watched as the sack was dragged away by…

  A toad.

  Not just a toad. The toad. The very familiar sand-coloured toad.

  The fairy yelled, “Oy! That’s mine!”

  But the toad gripped the corner of the sack in its wide mouth and almost ran on its splayed legs, moving rapidly downhill through the heather.

  “Bring that back, toad, it’s not yours!” shouted Molly.

  The toad turned, stared at her, then crawled away again at speed, dragging the open sack, scattering frail purple blossoms.

  The fairy shouted, “Help! Stop! Flower thief! Help!”

  Molly grinned. “Now you want help? Ok!” She weighed the stone egg in her hand, then rolled it down the hill.

  The egg clipped the back of the toad’s legs, knocking its feet out from under it. As the toad fell, it dropped the sack.

  Molly ran over and crouched down. She picked up the egg and the sack, and whispered, “Are you ok?”

  The toad croaked once and limped off dramatically.

  Molly walked back up the slope. “Here.” She laid the tiny sack on the ground beside the fairy. “You shouted for help and I helped, with my handy stone egg.”

  The fairy fluttered over her sack. “You may be a strange interfering child, but I’m lucky you were here. Who would have thought a stone egg could foil a blossom thief?”

  Molly smiled. “It certainly wasn’t on my list of useful things to do with a stone egg.”

  “Thank you for doing me a favour. I owe you a favour in return. So, one wish only, and don’t ask for pots of gold or handsome princes. I deal in purely practical things: heather honey, herbal shampoo…”

  Molly spoke carefully. “I have one favour I could ask you. A fairy in your village put a curse on the father of a friend of mine, a kelpie. I’m sure she regrets it now because the curse has already killed countless innocent water creatures. So could you please ask the fairy to lift the curse? As a favour to me, after I stopped that thieving toad?”

  The fairy stared at her. “That fairy was me.”

  “Was it? I couldn’t be sure.”

  “Did you come here today to ask me to lift the curse?”

  Molly nodded.

  The fairy folded her arms. “Did you ask that toad to steal my blossom?”

  “No! That was a surprise to me as well!”

  The fairy sighed. “You might be right – about the regret. I meant the curse at the time and I refused to lift it when that murderous kelpie demanded, threatened and begged. But a lot of time has passed since then, a lot of salt has flowed under the bridges, and a lot of innocent water-dwellers have died. Perhaps I do regret it, a little, now.”

  She thought for a while, rolling a heather blossom between her hands, then said, “I do not forgive the loss of my children, but I no longer wish the Spey kelpie and his family cursed. I lift my curse, willingly and freely.” She raised her hands and the tiny heather blossom blew towards the burn.

  “There. It’s done. Now, leave me alone with my harvest.”

  Molly said, “Thank you so much.”

  The fairy started to pick up the spilled petals.

  Molly asked, “Can I help with that?”

  The fairy replied quietly, “No, leave me now. I wish to think of the lost children, in peace.”

  Molly nodded. “Thank you again, and I wish you a successful harvest.” She walked slowly away.

  The wind had died down and the silver birches were steady and still. Innes, Beth and Atacama stood under them, waiting for Molly.

  “So? What happened?” Innes’s voice was hoarse with tension.

  “Our wind idea didn’t work. But the toad had a better plan.”

  “We saw that. But what did she say, Molly, what did she do?”

  “She was suspicious of my motives, but she regrets the curse now, and when I asked for the favour, it gave her a chance to reconsider. So, Innes… she lifted your father’s curse!”

  Innes sat down, speechless for once.

  “Do you want to search for a dead crow, to be sure?” asked Beth.

  “No, I know the curse has gone. I feel safer and calmer… and less like I have salt in my veins, needling me and poisoning me and… scaring me all the time. Thank you, Molly. Thank you for saving all of us from our curses. Now, let’s lift your curse too.”

  Chapter 28

  “We can walk at human pace back to Skene Mains,” said Innes. “There’s no rush, we’re not racing each other. Mrs Sharpe probably won’t want to see us until she’s closed the shop anyway.”

  As they walked along the farm tracks round the town, Molly rolled her stone egg between her hands. “It doesn’t feel any different, now it’s charged with a good deed. Will Mrs Sharpe be able to tell?”

  Beth pulled out her stone egg. “I’ve just realised that my egg was probably charged with a good deed yesterday, because you gave it to me.” She smiled at Molly.

  “But we were meant to charge our own eggs, not each other’s,” said Atacama. “And only Molly has managed that.”

  When they reached the next crossroads, Innes said, “I don’t think we should approach the farm through the front gate, in case the crows are awake and searching for us.”

  Beth nodded. “Let’s go over the hill and in the back way.”

  They scrambled up a hillside. From the top, Molly could see fields and rivers and woods all around, with the town and distilleries behind her and the mountains far ahead. “How do we get to Skene Mains from here?”

  Innes pointed. “Down this hill, ford that river, walk respectfully through the fields of Mrs Sharpe’s neighbours, then we’ll come in by her tattie fields. Though I’m not howking any tatties this afternoon.”

  When they reached the shallow river, Innes dived in, changing into a long sharp-snouted pike, and swam over, scrambling out wet and laughing at the other side.

  Atacama picked his way across carefully, using a network of stepping stones, shaking his paws in irritation when they got wet.

  Beth and Molly just splashed over.

  When they clambered up the steep riverbank and pulled themselves onto the flatter farmland beyond, Molly saw a figure standing by a barbed-wire fence. She wondered whether it was the neighbouring farmer, and whether they should ask permission to cross his fields.

  Then Molly realised that most farmers don’t wear long black coats.

  Long black fringed coats.

  Molly hadn’t seen Corbie’s face at the farm, but she wasn’t surprised to find that it was pale and pointed, with a sharp nose and sharp chin.

  Corbie held a dead crow in his right hand, its bony legs grasped in his fist, its limp body dangling down.
He flicked his hand and the crow’s wings opened, revealing a glistening white crystalline image on the feathers of its right wing.

  Innes said, “Salt. That’s salt. That’s my curse-hatched! I really am free.”

  “You’re not free, boy. Not yet. You will not get past me until I have what I want.”

  “What do you want?” Innes asked, warily.

  “You’ve killed three of my curse-hatched family this week: the birds bearing the wyrm, the flame and the salt on their wings. All strong crows, hatched from strong curses. Now they’re dead, because you selfish children can’t accept that you’re cursed. I won’t let you reduce my army any more. I won’t let you use those stolen stone eggs to lift more curses. Give me back all the eggs now or you will be sorry.”

  “Really? There are four of us and only one of you,” said Innes. “We have hooves and claws on our side. And your army is dead or snoring.”

  “Your puny hooves and claws don’t scare me. I have gathered immense power from all the suffering caused, over many generations, by my ancient curse!”

  The dead crow fell to the ground, as Corbie’s hands and arms became wings.

  Suddenly he was taller than any of them, a massive black-feathered monster looming over them.

  The giant crow shrieked his violently loud call, then whirled round, his wings knocking them all to the ground, and snapped at the barbed-wire fence behind him.

  The fencepost broke in two as Corbie’s beak closed round it, and when his head jerked up, the whole fence ripped out of the earth, like the field was being unzipped.

  The bird whipped the barbed wire over their heads and flung it in a heap behind them, blocking their way to the river.

  Then the crow shrank back down to the man.

  “I’m not afraid of your claws and hooves. My claws and beak are bigger and stronger, and my wings carry me through the air faster than your hooves can gallop. You cannot escape me, so give me the eggs, or I will peck out your eyes and open up your guts. All the stone eggs, now!”

  Innes stood up and held his hands out to Beth and Molly, pulling them to their feet. Atacama leapt back onto his paws beside them.

  Innes shrugged. “He’s right. I can’t outrun a beast with that wingspan. It would be like racing an aeroplane.”

  Beth said, “But if we give him the eggs, we can’t keep our promise to Molly.”

  “In a choice between a promise to a human and my own life, I know what I choose.”

  Beth gasped. “Innes! That’s so… selfish!”

  Innes smiled. “Mr Corbie, sir, I need to persuade my companions of the wisdom of your offer. May we have a moment to chat?”

  “Of course.”

  Innes led them away from Corbie, to stand in a huddle near the wrecked barbed-wire fence.

  Molly said, “I understand if—”

  Beth broke in, “Innes! You’ll never persuade me to betray a friend!”

  “Glad to hear it,” he murmured. “I’m not going to try. Now shut up and listen to me. We’re going to debate this loudly. But we’re also going to talk quietly, to come up with a plan. Because he’s right. We can’t escape. Not all four of us. And we can’t give up Molly’s chance to be free of her curse. So if we can’t escape and we can’t give him what he wants, then we’ll just have to fight him and defeat him.”

  Beth nodded, then said loudly, “You horrible treacherous kelpie!”

  Innes laughed. “You shouldn’t be surprised! I’m a shape-changer, and we change our minds and our loyalties easily too…” Then he whispered. “So what skills and powers do we have that could defeat a giant bird?”

  Beth said, “I can’t do anything. There are no trees close enough and it would take too long to awaken the life in those old fenceposts.”

  “I could attack him as a horse,” said Innes, “and give you all time to escape. But…”

  “But you wouldn’t win, would you?” said Molly gently.

  “No. I wouldn’t. The three of you might reach safety though.”

  “I could help,” offered Atacama. “Hooves and claws together. But even then…”

  Beth said loudly, “I can’t believe you’re siding with him, you sleekit cat!” Then she whispered, “No, Atacama. We’re a team. We’re not leaving anyone behind. There must be a way to defeat him and his huge beak.”

  Molly said shrilly, “How can you do this to me, Innes?” Then she looked over at Corbie. “The beak is only dangerous if he can catch us. And he can’t do that if he can’t fly.”

  Corbie yelled over, “Hurry up, kelpie. If you haven’t persuaded them yet—”

  “Five more minutes and you will have your eggs, sir.” Innes lowered his voice, “Ok, Molly. How do we stop him flying?”

  Molly smiled. “We clip his wings. I’ve held Aunt Doreen’s hens while she clips their wings. You cut the ends of the primary flight feathers on one wing, so the bird doesn’t have the balance or lift to fly. Anyone got scissors, or a knife?”

  They all shook their heads.

  Innes called to Corbie, “That was a vote, sir, but we’re doing a recount.”

  Molly said, “What’s the sharpest thing anyone has with them?”

  Innes grinned. “My pike’s teeth.”

  Molly nodded. “Right. Here’s what we do. Beth and Atacama, distract Corbie with the other stone eggs. Innes, change into a pike and I’ll aim your jaws at the feathers I want you to bite off.”

  Innes took two eggs out of his pocket and gave them to Beth. “My egg and Atacama’s egg.” He turned to Molly. “I can only survive for a couple of minutes out of the water as a pike. So please be fast.”

  They all faced Corbie.

  “We’ve agreed,” called Beth. “Here are your eggs.”

  She laid them on the ground. The purple egg, the river-blue egg and the pearly egg.

  As Corbie stepped forward, Atacama patted the eggs with his paw and rolled them into the tangle of barbed wire.

  Corbie screeched in frustration, shifted into his massive crow form and flapped over to peck at the wire.

  Molly whispered, “Now!”

  Innes shifted into a long fish, shining silver-green on the ground. Molly grabbed him and ran towards the giant bird. “Beth, Atacama, pull the wing open!”

  Beth grabbed the edge of the wing to drag it away from the crow’s body, and they all saw the gleaming scales of a mermaid’s tail on his outstretched feathers.

  The crow screamed and started to turn round, almost knocking them to the ground again.

  “Hold on!” called Molly.

  She held the pike’s jaws up to the middle of the first long feather. The fish bit down and the tip of the feather fell to the ground.

  She aimed the live fish clippers at the next long feather and it fell too.

  “I can’t hold on,” yelled Beth, as she was flung about at the end of the wing.

  Atacama leapt onto the wing to weigh it down. Together they wrestled with the wing as Innes bit and broke more feathers.

  The crow whirled round again, but they all tried to stay behind the wing, out of reach of the jabbing beak.

  Innes bit another feather.

  “Just one more!” called Molly.

  Beth screamed as the wing jerked violently. She was flung towards the barbed wire and landed just centimetres from its jagged spikes.

  Molly aimed the pike and he bit again, but with less strength this time. The black feather bent but didn’t break.

  The crow wheeled round even faster, dislodging the sphinx. A wall of hard feathers struck Molly in the chest. She fell to the ground and dropped Innes, who flapped feebly in the grass.

  Molly looked up to see the crow’s long sharp beak stabbing towards her face.

  She rolled away, and the beak pierced the earth beside her.

  Molly desperately wanted to become a hare, to run and hide from this terrifying bird. But she saw Atacama scramble onto Corbie’s wing again, and Beth stagger up to grab the bent feather. So she struggled to her feet
, seized Innes by his long scaly tail, ducked under the bird’s stabbing beak and round to the wing again, to the last of the longest flight feathers. She held the fish more firmly and pointed his jaws at the bent feather. “Just bite once more, Innes, then you can breathe.”

  He bit and the feather broke.

  Molly laid him on the ground. Innes shifted into a boy, gasping and coughing.

  “We have to run, now!” yelled Molly.

  “I can’t run, not yet…” groaned Innes.

  As the crow spun towards them again, she and Beth grabbed the kelpie’s arms and dragged him over the empty fencepost holes and into the field, Atacama running beside them.

  They heard screams behind them.

  The crow was flapping, but his shortened wing wouldn’t take his weight. He couldn’t fly.

  “Stop dragging me!” Innes protested. “Let me find my legs.”

  They stopped as the bird shrieked in frustration and tried to waddle after them.

  The crow shifted into the man. His coat was ripped, with one lopsided sleeve. “You treacherous children! Don’t you dare lift any more curses!”

  “We’re going to lift Molly’s curse,” yelled Beth. “And you can’t stop us!”

  Innes shifted into the tall white horse. Molly and Beth climbed up and they cantered towards Mrs Sharpe’s farm, Atacama running alongside them.

  Corbie screamed, “You might be pleased with your petty week of curse lifting, but when my crows wake up, when I call on the power who maintains the curses, and when my feathers grow back, then I will make your lives such a misery you will wish you were still cursed!”

  “I am still cursed,” said Molly.

  Beth laughed. “Not for long.”

  Chapter 29

  Mrs Sharpe was sorting tatties behind the shop when they ran into the farmyard. She frowned. “I didn’t expect you to arrive together, in a dead heat. I can still only lift one curse.”

  “That’s fine,” said Beth. “Most of our curses are lifted already. Molly is the only one still cursed.”