The Wee Free Men

getting lost.
    “So sad, to end like this,” said the Queen.
    Tiffany fell forward, into the freezing mud.
    The rain grew harder, stinging like needles, hammering on her head and running like icy tears down her cheeks. It struck so hard, it left her breathless.
    She felt the cold drawing all the heat out of her. And that was the only sensation left, apart from a musical note.
    It sounded like the smell of snow, or the sparkle of frost. It was high and thin and drawn out.
    She couldn’t feel the ground under her and there was nothing to see, not even the stars. The clouds had covered everything.
    She was so cold, she couldn’t feel the cold anymore, or her fingers. A thought managed to trickle through her freezing mind. Is there any me at all? Or do my thoughts just dream of me?
    The blackness grew deeper. Night was never as black as this, and winter never as cold. It was colder than the deep winters when the snow came down and Granny Aching would plod from snowdrift to snowdrift, looking for warm bodies. The sheep could survive the snow if the shepherd had some wits, Granny used to say. The snow kept the cold away, the sheep surviving in warm hollows under roofs of snow while bitter wind blew harmlessly over them.
    But this was as cold as those days when even the snow couldn’t fall, and the wind was pure cold itself, blowing ice crystals across the turf. Those were the killer days in early spring, when the lambing had begun and winter came howling down one more time.
    There was darkness everywhere, bitter and starless.
    There was a speck of light, a long way off.
    One star. Low down. Moving…
    It got bigger in the stormy night.
    It zigzagged as it came.
    Silence covered Tiffany and drew her into itself.
    The silence smelled of sheep, and turpentine, and tobacco.
    And then came movement, as if she was falling through the ground, very fast.
    And gentle warmth and, just for a moment, the sound of waves.
    And her own voice, inside her head.
    This land is in my bones.
    Land under wave.
    Whiteness.
    It tumbled through the warm, heavy darkness around her, something like snow but as fine as dust. It piled up somewhere below her, because she could see a faint whiteness.
    A creature like an ice-cream cone with lots of tentacles shot past her and jetted away.
    I’m underwater, thought Tiffany.
    I remember…
    This is the million-year rain under the sea, this is the new land being born underneath an ocean. It’s not a dream. It’s…a memory. The land under wave. Millions and millions of tiny shells…
    This land was alive .
    All the time there was the warm, comforting smell of the shepherding hut, and the feeling of being held in invisible hands.
    The whiteness below her rose up and over her head, but it didn’t seem uncomfortable. It was like being in a mist.
    Now I’m inside the chalk, like a flint, like a calkin…
    She wasn’t sure how long she spent in the warm deep water, or if indeed any time really had passed, or if the millions of years went past in a second, but she felt movement again, and a sense of rising.
    More memories poured into her mind.
    There’s always been someone watching the borders. They didn’t decide to. It was decided for them. Someone has to care. Sometimes they have to fight. Someone has to speak for that which has no voice….
    She opened her eyes. She was still lying in the mud, and the Queen was laughing at her, and overhead the storm still raged.
    But she felt warm. In fact, she felt hot, red-hot with anger…anger at the bruised turf, anger at her own stupidity, anger at this beautiful creature whose only talent was control.
    This…creature was trying to take her world.
    All witches are selfish, the Queen had said. But Tiffany’s Third Thoughts said: Then turn selfishness into a weapon! Make all things yours! Make other lives and dreams and hopes yours! Protect them! Save them! Bring them into the sheepfold! Walk the gale for them! Keep away the wolf! My dreams! My brother! My family! My land! My world! How dare you try to take these things, because they are mine!
    I have a duty!
    The anger overflowed. She stood up, clenched her fists, and screamed at the storm, putting into the scream all the rage that was inside her.
    Lightning struck the ground on either side of her. It did so twice.
    And it stayed there, crackling, and two dogs formed.
    Steam rose from their coats, and blue light sparked from their ears as they shook themselves. They looked attentively at Tiffany.
    The