man from Ardnahoe. I suppose there were two or three more whom I didn't recognize.
A cloth had been laid on the ground, and there were some oatcakes on it and bones stripped of meat. Tam's black bottle lay on its side, empty, along with two others. Tam had taken the mouthpiece of his bagpipe away from his lips, and now he let the air out of the bag so that it wailed like a dying animal, making everyone lurch about with laughter. Then he put it to his mouth again, and as his fingers flew to a fast jig, they shook themselves like dogs at the sound of the hunting horn and they danced, arms flying, legs leaping, plaids and shawls unraveling, hair wild, and eyes lit up with joy. My feet itched too, and my fingers tapped out the rhythm on the boulder.
I had to join them, I had to get up and dance, and I was starting to my feet when I caught a movement away to the side. Peering into the dark, I saw the oval paleness of a face. Someone else was standing, watching from the shadows.
I sank back down again, not knowing what to do. Tam's fingers were racing over his chanter, and the dancing was faster than ever. I saw Granny stoop and pick up a wisp of straw. She flung it in the air. It caught a leaping spark from the fire and flared into flame, rising up like a living thing into the air.
"Fly, fairies, fly!" yelled Granny. "By horse and hattock, go, go!"
The wisp burned out and disappeared. The music stopped. I looked back into the shadows. The face had gone. I wasn't sure, now, that I'd seen anything there at all.
It was as if Tam's piping had held the revelers' wits together, because as soon as it stopped, they seemed to fall apart and began stumbling about, laughing stupidly and clinging to each other, groping for the empty bottles and holding them to their lips in the hopes of squeezing out a few last drops.
They're just old drunks after all, I thought, and I was weary, as if I'd run a long way. I wanted my bed. I turned to slip away, and as I felt my way back down the hill from Ambrisbeg to the cottage, I heard Granny's cracked voice rise in a hideous song.
"Tinkletum, tankletum," she was singing.
The words seemed to follow me, gaining in volume, becoming harsher and more threatening.
"Tinkletum, tankletum, tinkletum, tankletum, TINKLETUM, TANKLETUM!"
The words were still drumming in my ears, making me shiver with more than the cold, as I lay down on the straw in the cottage and pulled my plaid up over my ears.
Chapter 4
When I woke the next morning, Granny wasn't there. I scrambled to my feet, afraid that something was wrong. Perhaps she'd never returned from the wild night at Ambrisbeg. Or maybe she'd gone off with her vagabond friends, leaving me and Sheba all alone. Or, worst of all, unearthly beings—fairies or the Devil himself—could have snatched her away to their own dark world.
But then I heard her voice coming from Blackie's stall behind the thin partition. Her words were too indistinct for me to make out, but the venom in them made me shudder. She was in the foulest mood, and I would need to watch my step.
A moment later she marched into the cottage, hanks of gray hair lying matted over her face, eyes bloodshot, hands crooked like claws.
"So, Mistress Lazy, you're awake at last. Sneaking off in the night, were you, you dirty girl? Going to meet some man or other? You get yourself a baby before time, and I'll flay you till you scream for mercy. Don't think I'll take your brat in. The pair of you will be out of this house begging for every crust you eat."
I felt my face flush scarlet.
"I've never gone out to meet ... I don't even know any—"
"Any what?" She thrust her face right into mine, and I had to stop myself from recoiling from her rotten breath. "You were out spying, then, weren't you? Creeping about. Following me."
My hands were clasped so tightly together behind my back that my knuckles cracked.
"Following you where, Granny?" I was looking as innocent as I could. "Did you go out? I slept all night. I was tired from—"
She stared at me a moment longer, her red eyes unblinking, then turned away.
"Get down to the beach. The tide's well out by now.