A brief moment of bright light shone between two of the standing stones. Then a small woman appeared. She staggered, then righted herself.
The Wyrd stood very still, allowing the faint nausea to seep from her system. Then she looked round at the silent trees. Her legs felt unsteady and she sat upon a stone and saw the small beetle. It moved swiftly into the shadows, away from her gaze. She took a deep breath. A headache was beginning now, and her mouth was dry.
A glowing sphere of light formed close by, and, for a moment, her heart lifted, for she believed it to be Riamfada, and his presence always comforted her. Then the light swelled and took the shape of a man’s head, crowned with antlers. The face was handsome, the eyes keen and sparkling with intelligence. He smiled at her.
‘The Gateways always made my stomach uneasy,’ he said, ‘when I took human form.’
‘If you have come to kill me, do it,’ she said. ‘I have no wish to speak with you.’
‘Sadly I do not have the power as yet to wither away your flesh, Caretha.’ The light swelled further, shaping itself into the full figure of a tall man. ‘I remember when these woods were but a tiny part of a huge forest. It was here that I first learned how to breathe air, and to run.’
‘What do you want, Cernunnos?’
‘From you? Nothing. I merely felt the power of the Gateway and was curious to know what had activated it. I had some small hope that it would be one of my old friends, perhaps the Morrigu.’
‘They have all gone now. As you should be gone.’
‘I expect they left in despair,’ he said. ‘One day I shall find them again. I will encourage them to come back and see the world as it ought to be.’
‘And how is that?’
‘Without humans in it.’
The Wyrd sat quietly, trying to gather her thoughts. ‘Who then will you rule? Who will dance and die at your bidding? Where will you find your pleasures?’
‘You think it pleases me to see humans die?’
‘Oh yes.’
‘I expect you are right. A child stamping on ants, you said. Would that it were so simple. These woods once pulsed with magic. The land was fertile beyond belief. Now the earth is merely dirt, and the trees struggle to exist. Where has the magic gone, Caretha?’
‘I don’t want to talk to you. You represent everything I detest.’
‘Not so! I represent everything you have longed for. You have watched man desecrate the land. You have prayed for the return of the Seidh to protect it. Now I am here.’
The Wyrd felt her anger swell, but fought to control it. ‘You are worse than any man could ever be. Your rule saw only torment, war and death.’
‘You humans are so short-lived. It is why you can only ever see the moment. For you it is all that exists. Man is the destroyer, Caretha. Man devours the magic. Man consumes the life force of the world. His hatred and his pettiness, his lusts and his greeds. When I first knew man he was a creature who had just learned to stand upright. He spoke in grunts. And yet we who were spirit saw in him vast potential. He was capable of great love. We watched him, and we saw also – to our amazement – that he could add to the magic of the world. The Seidh could not. We were born of the magic, and could manipulate it. We could not create it. Imagine the excitement among us, Caretha. Here was a creature with the potential to reshape the universe. Were we jealous of it? We were not. We sought to guide it, to help it evolve. Soon – well, in your terms a few hundred thousand years – we began to see problems develop. Yes, man could make magic. He could also drain it. Hatred, envy, and lust dissipated the power. Some of the Seidh knew then that man was the great enemy of the universe. I was not among them. I still believed he could achieve greatness. The Morrigu and I, and some others, took on fleshly forms and moved among the humans. We found people like you, Caretha. We inspired you. We gave you gifts of talent and power. We struggled for aeons to help you. But we could not overcome the one great flaw in the plan. A single human like you can spend her entire life creating magic, but one vile man, with one vile act, can consume it in an instant. The experiment failed. Some like the Morrigu refused to see it. She watched man destroy a thousand worlds across the vastness of the universe, and yet still had hope that on one he could achieve the potential she longed for. This one. Now she too is gone. Look around you, Caretha. Where is her legacy? Famine and death, war and destruction. Brooding hatreds fester in the souls of men, and the Wishing Tree woods have no magic in them.’