Before Wrenne has time to reflect on what she has heard, the farm girl jumps off her boulder with gleaming eyes. "I need no week," she exclaims. "I will follow you now!"

Wrenne can see Arkteia exchange glances with Tirisi before she answers. "We are honoured and glad, Linder, but we will not go to this secret valley at once. We will visit the villages around to see if we can find more people to share our vision." She hesitates, then goes on. "I and Tirisi are used to walking far and fast through wild country, which I think you are not. And you have brought no clothes or other gear that we mean to ask you to bring if you want to follow us. Can you not wait for a week?"

But Linder shakes her head vigorously. "I will not go back there! I'll follow you at any pace you go. Or wait here. I won't go back."

Arkteia bites her lip, but before she can reply, Ma Crowth speaks. "You can stay the week with me. I have also already decided to join, but I am in no rush. I live on my own in a small hut at the edge of the forest. Two people will make it cramped, but if you can live with that, you are welcome."

Linder looks at her with quivering lips and eyes shiny with restrained tears. "Anything, anything as long as I needn't go back."

Arkteia smiles gratefully at Ma Crowth and turns to Wrenne. For a moment she just gazes wistfully at her in silence. Wrenne frowns back. "What?"

Arkteia catches herself, shakes her head and sighs. "I just admired your hair. It's so beautiful... I remember wishing I had such hair, before..." Her face clouds over and she bites down on her words. Then she grunts and gives Wrenne a lopsided grin. "I had in mind to advise anybody who wants to follow us to cut their hair short. I've found it the most convenient in the wild. But I couldn't ask that of you."

Wrenne waves the words aside. "It's a curse and a blessing. I sometimes wonder if I would have ended up like this if not for my hair. It seems like a honeypot for man-flies."

"If you come with us, we will help you ward off those flies," Tirisi says.

Before Wrenne can answer that she'd rather have them swatted, Arkteia asks her if she can manage to wait for a week. Wrenne feels the little lump of coins tied into the waist of her skirt and nods. She can always find a barn or stable to sleep in. While summer was still in the air she could sleep outdoors, but last time she tried it, she nearly froze to death before she gave up and roamed the fields through the night just to keep warm. The year is too far gone for that.

Lastly, Arkteia turns to the auburn woman. "And you, Ardele, can you wait for a week?"

Ardele shrugs and draws her lips in a brief grimace that is nothing like a smile. "I have survived for this long, I can hold on for another week. And I need to think. To be honest, your vision frightens me and I am not sure if I wouldn't just trade one terror for another. Build your own world? You make it sound easy. But where's the ruler that would tolerate it? This is still a world where men are in power and they don't want to share it."

"This valley is so remote," Arkteia begins to explain but is interrupted by Tirisi.

"She is charmed." All look at Tirisi and she spreads her hands wide. "She is! If you had seen her do the things I have seen, you would know I tell the truth. Arkteia, is it not true?"

Arkteia smiles grimly. "If it is a charm, then it was dearly bought and I will have to spend the rest of my life making it worth the price. But I have received certain... gifts, that is true. Most of them I cannot show you here and now, but as a token of faith, I will show you the one I can. But you must not be alarmed, there is no danger." With that, she turns and calls into the shades of the trees on one side of the cliff behind her. "Brun!"

At first, it seems to Wrenne that a great, fallen tree starts rising off the ground in the shadows and her hairs prickle at the thought of what strange beast this may be. Then the shape lumbers into the slanting sunlight that filters through the low trees to the west and she can see clearly what it is. The fear of the unfamiliar is replaced by a familiar fear.

It is a bear.

"This is my ally," Arkteia explains. "She will not harm you. Her name is Brun and she would like to greet each of you in person."

The bear walks up to Arkteia, rises on its hind legs, places one paw over its chest and bends forward - it takes a bow, Wrenne suddenly realises and cannot hold back a choked giggle. Then the bear walks towards Ardele, but stops a little out of reach. Ardele leans backward, hands pressed against the rock behind her, round-eyed and pale of face. Brun looks back towards Arkteia and makes a few grunting noises.

"She asks if she may come closer," Arkteia says.

Ardele looks at Arkteia, then back at the bear, takes a deep breath and makes a jerky nod. Brun takes another step forward, snuffles the woman gently and looks her in the eyes. Then she looks again at Arkteia and makes more noises. Arkteia nods. "She says that you must have great strength to have carried such a burden of fear for so long."

Ardele looks from one to the other and back in awe. She swallows a few times and her voice comes out in a rasp. "How... how..."

"She can tell much about people by smell alone," Arkteia answers. "And she has learnt to see a lot as well since we met. When I name her an ally, I do not mean a simple comrade-in-arms. We share much more than that."

As Brun leaves Ardele, the woman's breathing soon comes easier. The bear next walks over to Ma Crowth, who smiles and leans forward. She lets Brun smell her and look at her, then Brun lowers her head and grunts back at Arkteia, who nods. "She wishes to pay her respect to you as a woman wise in the ways of the forest."

"Yes," Ma Crowth replies, as if she had understood the bear noises perfectly. "And I wish to return mine. I have known a bear or two in my days, but I can see that she is one of a kind."

Brun makes a gasping noise and Arkteia chuckles. "Oh, no false humility, Brun. You are one of a kind and you know it."

Then Brun moves over to Linder, who stares spellbound at the bear. She reaches out with a trembling hand but stops herself and looks at Arkteia. "Can I... can I touch her?"

Arkteia nods at Brun. "Ask her."

Linder looks at Brun, who takes another step forward so that her great head comes against Linder's outstretched hand. Linder gasps and then smiles in disbelief, stroking the fur with both hands, around the ears and cheeks, while Brun smells her in deep sniffs, eyes closed in palpable enjoyment. "She is..." Linder stutters. "I mean... you are so soft. I have never... you are... this is magnificent."

Brun makes a noise in her throat that sounds a lot like a guffaw, then grunts something at Arkteia, who cocks an eyebrow. "Yes, that is my impression too." Then she turns to Linder. "Brun says that you are a fierce one."

Linder blushes and looks down but cannot hide a broad smile. Then Brun walks to Tirisi, who sits between Linder and Wrenne, and greets her by butting her gently on the shoulder with her head. "It's good to see you too, Brun," Tirisi says.

"Can you talk to her, too?" Linder asks in awe. But Tirisi laughs and shakes her head.

"Oh, no! Not like Arkteia, it's her ally. But I've come to understand her fairly well without words during the weeks since we met."

Finally, Brun reaches Wrenne, who has been following the exchanges in half disbelief. But all doubt evaporates as soon as she looks into Brun's eyes. This is no mere well trained circus animal. This is a person.

An ally. Wrenne reaches out and puts her hand on Brun's neck, feels the raw strength there. A bear for an ally. If she could have one too... no, a wolf! Then she would have power. She could be a hunter. She could track them down, one by one, and pay them all back for what they have made her suffer with their malice or foolishness. A grim smile draws her lips as she envisions scenes of retribution and blood.

Then Brun makes a curious whistling sound through her nose, turns away and makes quite a few champing and grunting noises to Arkteia. Wrenne looks up and meets her eyes and for a moment, there the shutters slam wide open again and a chilling gust shoots through her before the bear woman looks away.

"What did she say?" Wrenne asks.

Brun lumbers over to sit beside Arkteia, who looks up and smiles at Wrenne. "Oh, she merely confirmed what you told us in your own words. That you are yearning for revenge. But Wrenne, I have to be clear. On such a quest, you will receive no help from me."

Fire and ice rushes through Wrenne at those words and she sits as if paralysed. No help. She has come here in vain. All that talk of freedom, hope, justice, but no help. Not with what she really needs to redeem herself.

She was about to ask how she can get an ally of her own, but now it's no use. No help. As clear as can be. She clears her throat and tries to sound merely disappointed, without betraying any of the anger that is rising in her. "I see," she says simply. With her thoughts reeling and raging, she almost misses Ardeles words.

"I don't know," the auburn woman says and her voice trembles, "but this seems a lot like witchcraft to me. Are you truly talking to that bear?"

Ma Crowth snorts. "Witchcraft?" she asks. "Phaugh. That word is mostly used by the ignorant of anything that is beyond their ken. Or by the hallowmen of anything that doesn't fit into their herder talk. Witchcraft indeed. I have been working for the better of men and women since I came of age, saving the lives of more sick and wounded, mothers and babes than I'd bother to keep count of. All with plain knowledge that is within the grasp of any reasonably bright human, if they would only care to look further than the warts on their noses that they want me to remove. Nothing mysterious at all. And yet they call it witchcraft!"

She rises and walks up to stand scowling before the woman and the bear, arms akimbo.

"But there are powers that are beyond mortal humans. To call those powers witchcraft is like naming the wild cat cattle and cursing it for eloping the pen. And it is clear to me that these gifts of yours were given by one of these powers. I think I have an idea about which one, too. So tell me now, young woman. Are you in their service?"

Arkteia clutches at her cloak and draws it closer about her, her face a shade paler than before so that her freckles stand out and make her look like nothing more than a frightened runaway girl. But then she in her turn stands up and faces the old woman. "I served the sisters only once and that was more than enough for me. No, I am not in their service."

Ma Crowth peers hard and long at the young woman before her. Then her face softens somewhat and she nods to herself, retreating once more to her boulder. Arkteia, too, sits down again.

"That is well," Ma Crowth says when she is seated again, "or I'd have had to spend the week in careful thought over whether I should change my mind about coming with you."

In the silence, Wrenne tries to grasp the meaning of what the old woman says. Powers beyond mortal humans? That Ma Crowth knows? Perhaps there is a way to find these powers and receive gifts of her own, if this Arkteia will not help? She leans forward not to miss anything.

Ma Crowth drums her fingers against her knee a few moments before speaking again. "Witchcraft, indeed. They might have already stoned me for a witch if it weren't for these pesky diseases, mishaps, childbirths and warts that they keep coming to me for. But it's only a matter of time before someone denounces me, for jealousy or fear or any petty little reason they might justify themselves with. I don't care to wait for that time. Let them find another midwife." She looks Arkteia square in the eyes and winks. "It wasn't only out of curiosity that I had made up my mind to join you, young woman. There are others in the villages that know about midwifery. In that valley of yours, I reckon suchlikes would be scarce. And you never know when they might come in handy, do you now?"

Arkteia's eyes widen and she looks aside, then shrugs. "You are right and I shouldn't be surprised that you can tell. Yes, I had that in mind when I sought you out. But I also heard the talk among the villagers. It is a thankless vocation you have, Ma Crowth. With us, you would be duly revered."

At that, Ma Crowth laughs aloud. "Revered, my dear? That would be a welcome change. But not too much reverence, mind you. I am also simply a lonely old woman looking forward to better company."

"Wait!" Ardele suddenly exclaims, looking at Ma Crowth. "Do you mean that she is with child?"

"Yes, Ardele," Arkteia answers her. "I am with child. What of it?"

"Well," Ardele replies, still glaring at the old woman, "I am of course only an ignorant woman who cannot tell witchcraft from immortal powers. But you must forgive me if in my ignorance I find this all quite fearsome." She shudders and turns at last to Arkteia, eyes narrow. "Pray tell me, whose child is it that you bear?"

Tirisi shifts in her seat and clenches a fist. Arkteia meets Ardele's eyes with her lips pressed together and shoulders squared. "My child was sired by a man, of whom I will not speak. Please, Ardele, you must not think me a monster even though I have been touched by eerie powers. I am also still a woman just like you."

"Not altogether like me," Ardele retorts with venom. "I have been in league with no uncanny powers. How did that come to be, pray?"

Wrenne strains her ears even more at that, but Tirisi disappoints her by cutting in. "You'll have to earn the trust to hear that tale, lady," she hisses with an anger that seems all the more fierce after her usual serenity. "And you're not making a very good start of it!"

Ardele shakes her head and makes a sign to ward off evil spirits. "Then you had better spare me. I came here hoping to escape a demon, only to find that I'm offered the company of demons!"

"More ignorance," Ma Crowth mutters. "Demons indeed..."

"Please," Arkteia interrupts and all fall silent, even Ardele. That single word from her, while softly spoken, somehow carries more force than the mere sound of it. Then she surprises them all by rising, walking up to Ardele and kneeling before her.

"I understand your fear," she says softly, "and do not judge you for it. You are right to fear these powers, just as Ma Crowth may tell you. I fear them myself, and deeper than you do! I know what they are capable of. But I swear that you need not fear me, whether you join us or not."

She stretches out her open hand towards Ardele and slowly, inch by inch, Ardele reaches out her own. Their fingertips rest against each other for the space of a heartbeat, then the elder woman quickly draws her hand back and looks down.

"If I may," Arkteia continues, "I would like to give you the directions to the place where you can meet us in a week's time, if you change your mind about who is a demon and who is not."

A hollow, sighing laughter arises from Ardele's chest. "I suppose you mean well, but I would just trade one fear for another. I cannot see myself joining you and your... ally, demon or not. But since you ask so nicely, by all means, tell me and have done."

"Perhaps we could meet at Ma Crowth's hut in a week?" Linder suggests. "Then she wouldn't have to walk so far, and I'm sure Ardele knows where it is."

"That is most considerate of you, my dear," Ma Crowth retorts dryly. "But there is ample power in these old bones yet. Besides, not only Ardele knows where to find me. You never know when some nosey brat will sneak up to touch the witch's hut on a dare. Or some lovestruck, misguided youngster believing a love potion will solve their problem or suchlike. And I have a feeling that our Arkteia would prefer some less well known spot?"

"You are right, Ma Crowth," Arkteia agrees." We cannot afford curiosity. And I must ask you all to take an oath not to reveal our plan to anyone."

She looks first at Ardele, who draws herself up haughtily. "I can see nothing for you but disaster. Do you really believe you can defy the laws of the land and prosper?" She laughs cheerlessly. "I will leave you to your untimely end, but I see no reason to hasten it. I swear to say nothing."

Then Arkteia turns to Wrenne. "I hope to meet you in a week and then to have you with us. I said that I will not help you if you seek revenge. But I would be glad to help you to be free, if you can only leave those thoughts behind you. I beg you to search within your heart. Is revenge really so important? Is power over others? We offer you power over yourself. Is that not a more worthy cause?"

Wrenne searches Arkteia's eyes. What she wouldn't give to find out the secret of how she found her ally! But this woman, this girl barely older than herself, doesn't consider her worthy.

It isn't fair. But she smiles as she answers. "I will think about it. And I will not reveal your great plan. I swear."

Arkteia holds her gaze for a little longer and her smile is getting strained. At last, the bear woman nods and turns away.

"Then I will tell you a few last things before Tirisi takes you to see the meeting place. Listen carefully, for it's getting late and we don't want to keep you in the forest until dusk."

Bleak, narrow rays of sunlight on her face and near frost in hands, feet and nose wake her up shivering. She sits up groaning and searches for her tunic that served as cover during the night. It seems to have slipped to the floor, and the odd left-behind rags she managed to rummage together for extra blankets have been more or less scattered.

Yawning, stretching and puffing, she blinks owlishly as she shoves her feet into her shoes and stiffly pulls the shawl around her. Spending the night in the shieling that the woodswomen have chosen as their meeting point seemed like a good enough idea, instead of starting to look for better in the encroaching dusk. But a shieling is only built for living in during summer, when the cattle is grazing the high and far pastures and need watching. It keeps the autumn winds and rain mostly out but not the cold. As she jumps and jogs for some warmth, she tells herself that she must find better shelter for the coming week. Or better clothes.

At least Tirisi left her some more meat and bread for breakfast, and there is a little spring just uphill, so she needn't begin the day hungry or thirsty. That was the least they could do, she reflects, bile rising at the thought of how they had shown her a way to power only to bar her from it.

She tries to sort out her clogged mind while she eats. Her sleep was poor, not so much from the cold as from her dreams, full of bears and wolves and mysterious, tantalising shadows that she knew she had to catch but that kept slipping out of reach with a mocking laughter.

She needs an ally like Arkteia's. That bear woman has been given such gifts only to squander them. Building an impossible world by fleeing from the one where the wolves run free. Pretending that it is somehow noble and wise, a poor disguise for the cowardice it really is.

Wrenne wants revenge, true. But not only for herself. What about poor Ardele? And all other women like her, that will not or cannot run away? Throw them to the wolves and run to some hidden valley, how will that make anything better?

She can feel steel forming in her heart. There must be a Merciless Hunter for the wolves to fear, to make them think twice. And if the one in the hallowmen's lore is nothing but a lie, then someone will have to make it true.

And if no one else will, then why not Wrenne?

If only she had the power. But now she knows that there is power to be had. And as she washes down the last few morsels with clear spring water and rises to find her way down into the valley, she begins to have a clearer idea about how to get it.