How was it possible that this filthy old woman knew me? Knew the name of my birth mother? My voice was stuck in my throat and I gaped at her. Her eyes narrowed as she spoke in a voice that was only loud enough for me to hear.

'I'm Tasmi. Come, boy. It's not safe for you to be out here.'

My anger faded away as shock and fear began to take its place. She clutched at my arm, her claw-like fingers clamped over my birthmark so that nobody could see it and she tugged at me. My bewilderment stopped me from asking too many questions and I followed her into the maze of houses. We made so many turns and doubled back on ourselves so often that I was completely lost. As we walked she muttered harsh words about the children and I understood it was not the first time they had attacked her.

We arrived at last at a building that seemed too dilapidated and frail to stay upright. My heart dropped inside me, I was sure that the inside of the dwelling would match the outside and wondered if I should run away before Tasmi could pull me into her lair. She glanced all around her to make sure that nobody was watching before starting to pluck at an intricately knotted rope that held the door closed.

'My special knot. Only I know how to tie it. It keeps the thieves away, and that's a true thing.' After a period of fiddling, the rope came undone and she gave the door several hard kicks before it swung open on protesting hinges. She gave me a shove between the shoulder blades that sent me lurching forward into the house. She followed and slammed the door behind her.

My mouth fell open again as I looked around me. Instead of the dark, fetid interior, filled with heaps of rags and rubbish that I'd been expecting, my first impression was of brightness and colour. Sunlight bounced from a wooden table which was polished and gleaming. Two chairs were draped with silks of lilac, soft blue and rose-red, which danced in the slight draft the old woman created as she bustled past me and through an inner door which she closed behind her. All the other flat surfaces in the room were covered with mirrors, which threw spots of bright light around the room, brass ornaments, lamps and mosaics in bright colours.

'Where is Monila? Is she here with you?'

Tasmi had opened the door so quietly I hadn't heard it and I was startled by her voice behind me. She had taken off her dirty rags and put on a turquoise dress. She had a brush in her hand which she was using to smooth the tangles from her mass of grey hair.

'You look so different!' I managed to splutter out, amazed that she made herself look so filthy and drab when she had no need to.

'There's no point letting those thieves and rascals out there know what I've got, and that's a true thing. Now, Monila, where is she?' she reminded me.

'Sorry... I'm sorry. Monila died a long time ago.'

'Dead,' she said in a harsh voice. She looked at me with eyes that did not see me and sank down onto one of the silk-covered chairs, clutching at its arms as though they might save her from drowning in my bad news.

'She died when I was a baby,' I told her, feeling guilty that I was telling her such unhappy tidings. 'My family – the people who brought me up – she was found injured in the road. She was holding onto me. They took her home with them and tried to save her, but she took a fever and died...' I didn't know what else to say, I knew no more about my birth mother.

'Monila!' Tasmi's voice was loud and shrill and it made me flinch. 'My sweet girl! It was all my fault. Oh, I'm so sorry. I'd hoped you managed to get away from Merthgem and make a life for yourself.' She dropped her head into her hands and rocked back and forth, moaning.

I wondered if I should pat her on the shoulders, the way that Doya had always done to comfort me when I was young. I swallowed and put my hand on her hunched back. The knobs and lumps of her spine and shoulders moved beneath my fingers and made me want to squirm and snatch my hand away, but I patted her gently and waited without speaking for her to finish weeping.

'It was my fault. She was such a kind sweet girl. I didn't know what was going to happen. How could I? You were such a beautiful baby. Who would have guessed you were destined for evil?'

The strangeness of the last question made me wonder if her mind was entirely whole. Although I was bewildered by the things she had told me so far, I needed to know everything that had happened all those years ago to be able to make any sense of her story. There were so many things that I wanted to know that it was hard for me to decide where to start.

Questions flew through my mind, one chasing after another like birds in flight. Why did Tasmi think she had had anything to do with Monila's death? What had she done to Monila? What evil would I do? Why was I not safe here in Merthgem? The thing that bothered me most was how Tasmi had recognised me.

'How did you know who I am? Monila's been dead for almost sixteen summers.'

Tasmi picked up my arm again and ran her finger over my birthmark. 'This mark, of course. It was the only thing that marked your skin. I never forgot it. We had no swaddling clothes for you when you were born, so Monila wrapped you up in a cloth that I used to cover bread with. She said that you looked like a little loaf and that mark was where you had been cooked for a bit too long.' I closed my eyes as I pictured a young woman holding a baby, smiling as she wrapped it in a bread cloth. I blinked away the tears that came with the image.

'What can you tell me about my mother?' Now, at last, I had the chance to hear Monila's story from the beginning.

'She came here looking for work and a place to stay while you grew inside her. I knew she had no choice other than to work for me, so I let her stay for just her food and a place to sleep. I made her work hard. Oh, I made her work from morning until night. But she didn't complain. She did the work I told her to do and more. I still treated her like a slave though. I should have let her rest, she was so big with you.' Again her voice drifted off into silence.

'How did Monila get hurt?'

Tasmi drew in a deep breath and squared her shoulders. 'It is my fault. I should never have sent her to Yardin.'

'Yardin?'

'The Witch Woman. The foreteller of fates. I told Monila that she should take you to be foretold. It's what we do with all the babies here. Yardin can see their futures and tell the parents what their lives will be.' Tasmi drew a deep breath and looked distressed.

'If Yardin had never set eyes on you, how different your lives would have been. How different mine would have been. I should have loved her like a daughter. Instead I treated her like a slave and she was so kind, so grateful, and that's a true thing...' Her voice faded away into silence as she thought about what might have been.

'What happened? When she took me to Yardin?' I asked, sad that I had to bring her back to the present, but I needed to find out all I could.

'I didn't go into the cave, I could have done, but I don't like it in there. She took you in by herself. After short while Yardin screamed and screamed. We could all hear it from outside the cave. Monila came running out holding you. Yardin followed and shouted out that you were evil and we should kill you. The people nearby heard and did what she said. They picked up rocks, sticks, whatever was nearby, and threw them at her. I don't know how Monila did it, but she got away from them, even though she was carrying you. The people chased after her, but they lost her and she was never heard of again.'

Tears came in place of words and I couldn't speak. My mother had been killed because of me. Yardin had ordered for me to be killed because I was evil. I looked down at myself. I didn't feel evil. I stared at my hands. They didn't look evil to me, they gave no hint that they might be capable of doing any harm. Then I thought back to the bandit in the metal building on the farm and realised that they could kill.

'Do you know where she came from?' I prompted her.

'No, but I remember that her father did not like your father and that he drove Monila out of her home and her village when he discovered that you were inside her.'

My family and I had always wondered what had happened to Monila. Halash had listened for news of her the next time he went to Merthgem, but feared to ask too many questions in case my birth family wanted to claim me back. By that time Veena had grown to love me as her own and would have been distraught if I was taken from her. She and Kershel had not been able to have their own children. She had told me so often that I had been a gift to her from Monila. Now I knew some of Monila's sad story.

'Did she say anything about my father?' I knelt down in front of her, looked into her wrinkled face and held my breath, waiting for her to share her memories.

It was a long time before Tasmi spoke. 'She said he was a traveller who came to her village. She didn't talk much about him. It caused her great sorrow to think about him and what might have been.' Her head drooped and she stopped talking and I thought that she might have fallen asleep but I realised that her lips were still moving soundlessly. At length she opened her eyes and began to fumble inside the neck of her dress with a gnarled hand. 'I must give you this. I always hoped she would come back for it.' She took a chain from around her withered neck and held it out to me. Hanging from it was a silver disc with some markings on it.

'I found it in her bed after she left. It was precious to her; she was always touching it and smiling.'

I took the chain from her and examined the markings, there was a crescent and some twisting shapes beside it that meant nothing to me. I hung it around my own neck. For the first time I had something that had been my birth mother's. A twinge of sadness pierced me when I discovered that I had no sense of her presence as the metal warmed against my skin.

'I'm glad you have it. It's a weight off my mind. Anything else you want to know? I never really got to know Monila. She made the best bread I ever tasted. Wished I'd had her way with it, and that's a true thing.' Her voice faded away again.

'How can I find Yardin? Is she still here?'

'She does her foretelling in the cave in the cliff at the back of Merthgem. She lives there too.'

'I need to see her!'

'That's a bad idea, and that's a true thing. You were lucky Monila got you away last time. You might not be so lucky twice.'

'Tasmi, I can't live with this hanging over me. I must find out what she meant. I'll be safe. I'm strong and I run fast.'

Tasmi sighed as she realised that she couldn't change my mind. 'Stay here in my house and go to Yardin tomorrow, early, before dawn. There's to be a foretelling. Yardin may be alone so you can speak to her. Don't let anyone see your birthmark.'

'I have a friend, waiting for me at the market. I must see him. He'll worry about me. I need to tell him I'm going to be all right.'

'I'll go to him and tell him you are staying with me. Your family. You'll be able to tell them now, won't you? About Monila and the foretelling. About everything.' Her eyes glittered with tears and she scrubbed them away with her sleeve.

My own tears came again and I shook my head. 'No,' I said, shaking my head. 'They're all dead. Killed by bandits a few days ago.'

***

I spent the night in the bed that my mother had slept in when she lived with Tasmi. It was the bed that she had birthed me in. I pressed my face into the sheets and tried to smell Monila before I fell asleep.

I sank down though layers of sleep, my body relaxing properly for the first time in days. I must have slept deeply for some time, because it was full dark when I woke up clammy with sweat after a dream. I tried to calm my breathing and recall the details of what I had seen.

An enormous circular hall was spread out before me, and although I could not see into its depths clearly, it gave me an impression of loftiness, of blueness, as though the sky itself was captured inside that space.

It was filled with people of many colours, some had dark skin like my own, others were lighter toned and some so pale they were almost white. Their hair colours differed too, it came in shades from yellow through brown to black and there were even a couple with orange-red hair. Some wore it long, others had short hair, with curls or waves, and some wore it tightly curled like mine. Their clothing was all made of the same material, a shiny fabric that shimmered like the wings of a dragonfly, although it came in many shades and patterns.

The people swirled around within the hall, knots and lines of people would form for a few moments and then break apart to swirl again and coalesce in another part of the hall.

I moved among them, looking at their clothes, their faces, their hair. I even reached out to touch them, but my hands passed through them and when I spoke to them, they paid me as much attention as they would have given a speck of dust floating in the air. They talked to each other but I could not hear their voices. Each face wore a look of fear or worry, and their hands moved in short, jerky gestures to emphasise their feelings.

The anxious discussions were disturbed and the crowd parted to allow a procession of solemn faced people to walk to the centre of the hall. A silver-haired woman came last and they all faced her and bowed their heads. One man reached out towards her with a hand that trembled and then dropped it down before touching her.

She held a long stick which rested against her shoulder. When she came to the exact centre of the room she stopped, held the stick aloft and then spoke to the people. What she told them must have been dreadful news for there was horror on some faces and tears on others. The woman nearest to me covered her face with her hands.

The silver-haired woman raised her stick above her head and swung it around in a circle. A blade of blue light came from the end of it. A mist rose up from the floor and as it made its way to chest height, the people began to slump down to the floor. The silver-haired woman stayed upright the longest.

She seemed to see me for she took a step towards me. I looked at her face which was so beautiful it made my heart ache. She had strange golden-brown eyes with no whites. She stared into my own eyes and I felt as if I was falling towards her. Her mouth formed words which I could not hear but still understood.

'Come to me.'

The dream filled me with questions. How could I dream of somebody I had never met? Dressed in clothes the like of which I had never seen before? Why had my mind created those people? All those details?

And the woman? She seemed to exert some kind of pull on me. Somehow I knew she was real; my mind could not have invented anyone that strange. I knew that I must find her and go to her, whatever it cost me and however long it took.

***

How do you feel about Tasmi?

Now we are finally getting near to the Witch Woman, what do you think will happen?

Are you glad that Thamet is starting to make decisions about his own life?

Any feedback good or bad is truly appreciated, I am trying to make this the best story I can. Please let me know if you find anything confusing or if you think I've left anything out.

And finally, if you liked it, please press the little yellow ⭐️ to let me know!

Anni X