The Howler followed me from Hybrasil to Caragh’s circus, across the sea, and to Cork. But how?
If I had thought the Boy would be standing around the outside of the house waiting for us to remember him, I would have been wrong. He was a person of action.
Where would a person of action go?
That’s what I was wondering as I hid in some nearby bushes. I needed Bronagh to think I was gone.
I tried not to think about the fact that my sisters were still inside with her. Or that they didn’t stop her from getting rid of me. Were they under a spell? Was I the only one who seemed to notice?
I shook to toss off the bad feelings. I had to get away from the howling, so I scurried off toward the forest.
As a girl, I was both delighted and frightened by the forest near our house. The trees were enormous, which meant they made tremendous shadows at nightfall. And everyone knows that shadows are for things that lurk.
But as a rabbit, I wasn’t scared of the forest. I’d learned how to use my spectacular ears to avoid anything that might harm me. But now my ears were filled with the howling, and my old fears enveloped me as I approached the trees.
The howling quieted, though, as I got farther away from the house. I went into the forest until I couldn’t hear it at all.
“Hellooo?” I called. Surely the Boy was close. If not him, perhaps those forest creatures he’d met back when he brought Rory here—Bann the squirrel or perhaps Hecate the owl.
I searched the treetops and skies for a sign of either of them. In my distracted state, I tripped over a weasel hole and nearly fell in.
“What’s the meaning of this?” asked the weasel upon whose head I was now standing.
“You wouldn’t be Wat, would you?” I asked.
“I am indeed,” said Wat, slowly, gently rising out of the hole so as not to dump me over.
“I’m looking for a boy,” I said. “He came here once before, with Rory. He said he met you, and I thought he might have come to pay a visit.”
I had removed myself from Wat’s head as gracefully as possible, which wasn’t easy.
“You didn’t go in that house, did you?” he asked.
“I did.”
“You’re a brave hare.”
“I had to go in. Rory is my sister. Families stick together,” I said with all the confidence I could muster.
“Well, we in the forest have a different idea of what comprises a family. A family can be wherever you make it. A family can be whomever you choose.”
“That’s very philosophical, and I’d love to talk more, but I really need to find the Boy.”
The rustling in the bushes let me know that he’d been listening the whole time.
“What is it, Albie?” the Boy asked.
“Oh! So this is Albie!” said Wat jubilantly, then quickly changing to despair. “Oh…then…this isn’t good.”
“You’ve got to get back in there, Albie,” said the Boy. “You’re the only one who can help them now.”
Easy for him to say. He wasn’t just tossed aside like a piece of garbage by a woman so horrible that even witches wouldn’t have her.
“I’m sure she won’t let me back in.” I didn’t say who she was. I didn’t have to.
“Threw you out, did she?” the Boy asked.
I nodded.
“Well, you’re in good company, then. I suspect she wouldn’t have even let me in at all. It’s probably best if she doesn’t know about me altogether. The element of surprise will be our best ally.”
“How do you know her?”
“I don’t know her personally, but I know of her. She’s one of many. She’s a sluagh.”
“A what?”
He paused, looking at me, then at Wat, as if he was making sure that it was okay to tell us. “Death isn’t the only thing that wishes for lives to end. They are spirits so terrible that the afterlife won’t have them. A sluagh is a stealer of souls.”
“What are you talking about? She’s just an old bat who works for the Orphan Removal Society who came to Cork and stole our house!”
“And wouldn’t that be the perfect occupation for someone looking for souls to steal? Poor little orphans with no one to save them? I’ve no doubt she was attracted to your sadness. Things are not always exactly what they seem. For heaven’s sake, Albie, you’re a rabbit who is really a girl! Bronagh is an old woman who is really a sluagh. Don’t underestimate her. A sluagh can burst into a flock of birds if that is her wish. Very powerful, that type of magic.”
All at once I remembered reading about sluaghs in one of the Magician’s books, and also how the boat that took us from London had been surrounded by birds that bombarded us. Was that Bronagh? I had known there was something truly horrible about her back then. But I just thought she was a bad person. Bad people exist, I’m sorry to say.
The Boy continued, “Or maybe she’s just a thief, and you’re right. You can call the constable and have her removed—and you’ll have to explain why you’re a rabbit, why there aren’t other adults around, and answer a whole lot of questions. And then be shipped off to live with some other family.”
He was being dramatic, but he also might be right. Involving the authorities would spell disaster for my plans for the family.
“That is the best-case scenario. If I’m right, Albie, her plan isn’t to have just the house but your souls as well.”
Wat the weasel scurried over to the Boy and crawled up his arm, quickly settling on his shoulder like they were old friends. “You’ve got to get rid of her,” he whispered rather loudly in the Boy’s ear. “Banish her once and for all.”
“I can’t. I can’t interfere. Albie has to do it.”
“How?”
The Boy paused. His silence lasted what seemed like days. “That’s something Albie has to figure out.”
Getting rid of the sluagh would require magic. I was rubbish at spells—clearly—but I was going to have to do something and not muddle everything up again. The safety of my family depended on it.
I’d need help from the best magician I knew—Mum. I knew she kept detailed notes on her work in the gorgeously bound journals that sat on top of the tall bookshelf in my parents’ room. The very ones that the old hag claimed to have read.
I’d have to sneak back into the house.
Crouching beneath the kitchen window, the Boy and I waited as day melted into night, listening as Bronagh continued to try to turn Rory and Caragh against me.
“If she were really your sister,” the hag hissed, “she’d have changed. Why would a girl want to be a rabbit? No, she’s just an ordinary hare. She’s trying to trick you into sharing this house with her! You’re not too stupid to see it, are you?”
If there was one thing Caragh hated, it was being thought of as stupid.
I wanted to go dashing in and thump Bronagh with my strong haunches, but the Boy held me back. “Just listen. We must make a plan.”
“She hasn’t been here that long, but oh, the damage she’s done,” said Wat. “Things were getting back to normal since Rory got rid of the sheep. She weeded the garden and planted vegetables. Then out of nowhere, the sky turned dark in the middle of the day, like a big shadow was crossing the sun. The next time I saw Rory, she looked ill. And there was that old lady directing her every move. Oh, I know, she says that she’s helping Rory, but it doesn’t look like it. She made Rory put out poison so we don’t get too close to the house—as if we’d be stupid enough to eat poison. Bronagh threatened all of us with a big cooking pot if we tried to interfere. Interfere with what? We wanted to ask, but we didn’t, of course. One doesn’t ask an evil hag questions and live, now, does one?”
No, one does not. My ears drooped.
I peered into the kitchen window as the sun sent its last glimmer over the tops of the trees. Caragh was placing a large bowl of water on the floor in front of Bronagh for her to soak her feet! Rory brought her a cup of tea and a little chocolate biscuit—my favorite! The hag beamed
up at my sisters, who smiled back at her. Then, most repulsive of all, they all hugged like Bronagh was a member of the family!
That’s when the howling started again.
How I hated the Howler.
“What am I supposed to do?” I cried. “It’s not like I’m the Magician. I’m just a girl who failed at a spell and who is now a rabbit. A rabbit who failed at a task and is now sitting under a window of what used to be her house with a bunch of other failures.”
Oh no. I shouldn’t have said that. And I couldn’t take it back.
Wat the weasel (and the other animals) were probably not failures at all. Only the Boy and I were. I failed on my quest to bring my family back together like we used to be, and the Boy failed in taking me to my destiny. I hadn’t changed back. Maybe I never would.
Wat looked away, uncomfortable and hurt. The Boy’s eyes held such regret and sadness.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean the last part. Truly,” I said. The Boy’s and Wat’s eyes softened. “But we have to help them.”
“I don’t know what to do, Albie,” the Boy said.
Neither did I. But I wouldn’t give up. Maybe Caragh or Rory would help me, if only I could get to them privately—away from Bronagh. But first I needed to check Mum’s journals.
We waited as the howling quieted. When it was good and dark, I scampered around the back of the house, leaving the Boy and Wat looking dumbfounded in the moonlight.
The faerie window was still open a crack. Leaping onto the ledge, I slipped through and silently launched to the floor and raced up to my parents’ room.
There was a big lump under the white bedspread that could only mean one thing. The hag must have chosen a different bed after I’d dirtied the one in my room.
How dare she sleep in my parents’ bed!
Not being able to help myself, I climbed up and stood on her chest, my face in her own. It’s a terrifying thing, at least I hoped it would be, to wake up and find a furry face staring right at you, not six inches away.
She breathed with her mouth open, snoring slightly. Her skin was flabby, like there was too much of it draping over her skull, puddling in wrinkles near her ears. Remembering my task, I glanced over at the bookshelf, my rabbit eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness. None of my mother’s journals sat at the top. They were gone. All of her books were gone. The only thing remaining was a framed quote from someone named Daniel Webster my mother had kept near her desk.
“There is nothing so powerful as truth—and often nothing so strange.”
These were the only words my mother had for me.
Frustrated, I let my whiskers tickle the hag’s cheek and was rewarded with a startled scream.
“Get out of my house!” I hissed at her face.
She leaped up, causing me to fall off the bed altogether.
“Never!” she squawked. “And there’s nothing you can do about it, rabbit. No, this is my place now. And the girls—their souls will be mine, and soon. I’ve kept watch. Oh, yes, I knew when I was forced to send you on that ratty boat you’d eventually come back to Cork and old Bronagh. It’s even better than I hoped—except that you are still a dirty hare. Can’t take a rabbit’s soul, now can I? Rabbits don’t even have souls!”
I knew that was a lie. I was a girl who was a rabbit—still me. Albie.
“I know what you are,” I said, using the only weapon I had: the truth. “I know you are a sluagh.”
“Been getting educated, I see. Well then, you’ll know that getting rid of me ain’t no easy task. But you, on the other hand, you’ll be gone before sunrise.”
Caragh and Rory rushed in.
“What’s going on? Why are you in here, Miss Bronagh? What did you do this time, Albie?” Caragh, hands on her hips, was reasserting herself as the one in charge.
“That unclean beastie ruined the bed in the other room. I had to find a different place to sleep. Oh, my poor old bones,” Bronagh said, faking distress. “I told you there was something off about this hare. It claims to be your relation, but if that was true, why did it threaten me? Me, a harmless old woman! I’ve done nothing but help!” Bronagh began crying big fake tears.
I rolled my eyes, not that anyone could see, since the room was still dark.
Rory found the lamp and turned it on.
Bronagh was sobbing, most pitifully. Her sadness seeped through the room, and I watched as it touched everyone. My sisters’ eyes filled with pity.
This was some powerful magic.
“Come now,” Caragh said, putting a comforting arm around the old beast. “You’ve got yourself all riled up.”
Bronagh pointed her bony finger at me. “This creature must be banished from this house.”
“You’re right,” said a voice behind me. It was Rory. There were dark circles under her eyes, giving her a frightening look. I could well believe she had scared off a bunch of sheep. “All unnecessary creatures must be banished from this house.”
“Yes!” Bronagh cried. “The impostor must be banished. And even if it was your sister, which it is not, but even if it was, how can you forgive her for what she did? She changed you, all of you. She stole years from your lives!”
Even if I couldn’t hear it very well, I could feel the vibrations. The Howler was there, with me. There was no escaping it.
In trancelike voices, my sisters began chanting in unison. “She must go. She must go.”
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t both terrified and heartbroken. I wanted to run out of that room out into the forest, find the Boy, and have him take me away from here and go—
Where?
Where exactly did I think I was going to go?
There was no place else left for me.
“She must go. She must go.”
No!
I would stay and fight this thing.
“All unnecessary creatures must go,” said Rory again.
“Now wait just a minute, Rory—” I began, trying to lift my small rabbit voice over the dueling sounds of the chanting and the howling. But was stopped by two things.
The first was a familiar glint in Rory’s eye, the kind she’d get when we played a game together and she’d just thought of the perfect way to win.
The second was the way she turned slightly from me, just the teeniest bit, and shifted her gaze toward the hideous Bronagh. “Which is why we are banishing you, Bronagh, from this house.”
“Me? You can’t!” she squawked.
“Oh, but we can,” Rory said, ice in her voice. And confidence. She turned to me and whispered, “We gave her chamomile tea, hoping she’d fall asleep so we could find you.” Then she turned and glared at the hag.
Bronagh drew herself up, much taller than anyone else in the room. She pointed at me. “She’s evil! Think about what she did to all of you! Turning you into rabbits! Yes, I know the truth!”
“I forgave her for that a long time ago,” said Rory.
There is nothing so powerful as truth.
“You did?” I whispered, wilting a little.
The howling quieted a little, too.
“Of course I did. Turning into a rabbit was the best thing that ever happened to me,” Rory said.
Caragh continued the chant.
“She must go! She must go!”
Rory and Caragh gathered around me. Their voices had changed; no longer were they trancelike or under some sort of spell.
Bronagh cackled. She was too wrapped up in her own vileness to notice something as simple and sweet as sisterly love.
“Rory, what are we going to do?” I cried.
Caragh grabbed me and held me to her chest. “I forgave you, too.”
Nothing so powerful.
“It’s not Albie who must go, but you,” said Rory. They turned and faced the sluagh. “We forgive Albie.”
The howling died completely. There was nothing left of it at all.
“Bronagh, you are banished from this house!” Caragh cried, pointing her finger at the beastly cr
eature.
There was a cackling cry.
The sluagh burst into a flock of white birds that flew out the window and into the night.
And in the arms of my sisters, I turned into a girl again.
How long had it been since I’d seen the shores of Hybrasil? Weeks? Months? I’d lost all perspective.
However, spending several days on a small boat helped me find it again. Now that I was a girl, I couldn’t talk to the Sea in the same way anymore. She no longer gave me her verses to ponder. I tried so hard to listen for them, but now…
It was just me, Albie, against the world.
Oh, and the Boy.
He’d been quite surprised to see me in my girl form. He wasn’t the only one. I cried when I looked in the mirror for the first time. Caragh said she did, too.
“Don’t worry, Albie honey, you’ll get used to yourself again.”
“But I barely look like me.” My hair was longer, and so was my nose. And the freckles that had dusted my cheek were nearly gone.
“It’s been two years since you’ve seen yourself. You’ve grown up a bit.”
Rory hugged me. “I missed my rabbit-self, too. But you’re meant to be a girl.”
I hugged her back.
That’s what those first few days after we’d banished Bronagh were like. Lots of hugs and sister talk. “How did you know?” I’d asked them. “When did you figure out that Bronagh meant us harm?” I didn’t want to make a big deal out the fact that she’d obviously bewitched them and that they almost let her get rid of me, but I was curious.
“I’m not quite sure,” said Caragh.
“Perhaps the three of us together were just too much for the old bat,” Rory said, smiling. “I like to think that love is always the strongest thing.”
Caragh and Rory let me choose from their old clothes, since mine no longer fit.
The Last Rabbit Page 13