Fleeing Fern ran along the animal tracks she knew so well. Undergrowth lashing her legs, the tree branches closing in on her hair and skin, Fern was oblivious to the pain or the sound of the mob bellowing behind.
”Find the witch, before she puts the curse on someone else.”
Fern ran faster uphill to get to the waterfall and the cave, her best chance of survival; Rowan, the only mother she had known, her words ringing in her head over and over.
”This is not your fault Fern, you have the gift of sight. You tried to warn him but he did not heed your words. They want someone to blame. Run my child to the cave, I will try to placate them. ”
Reaching the summit she lay to catch her breath. She looked down into the forest below. The burning torches danced as the mob spread out, calling to each other. Taking off again, she ran slower now as she negotiated the goat track down to the next valley and safety.
The waterfall was in full flow, a mist rising as it thundered through. She washing her feet carefully, slid around the flow, then turned to the crevice and the sanctuary of the cave system behind. She and Rowan had found it one summer, when looking for a certain moss to use in her medicines. Rowen was a healer and midwife to the local area; she had taken in Fern as a foundling left on her doorstep.
Shivering now from shock, she hastily transversed the outer caverns arriving at the dry corner where a mattress of straw and deer skin lay there. She crawled in, wrapping the skin tightly around herself. She began to sob until finally she fell into a deep sleep.
On waking, she wandered around in awe at the largest cavern. Large icicles hung suspended from the ceiling, glistening in the light from the gap in the roof. She reflected on her situation. She had always had visions. Rowan said it was a gift but at this moment it didn’t feel special. Mr. Williams had scoffed at her when she warned him not to go fishing in a stretch of river. He was found drowned down-stream. The local ladies felt that it was Fern’s fault, that she had cursed him. As the gossip spread they organised a mob: a life for a life, they said. Shivering again, Fern knew she could not return to Rowans cottage. She cried once more, then returned to the mattress. Tomorrow she would decide where to go.
