Was this where I was meant to leave her?
I set up watch as night approached.When Edda left the cottage, I crept to the side window and peered in.
‘I think she wants to be fed again.’Esma was rocking back and forth with Little Worm in her arms.
‘I can’t believe a father would just leave his child with strangers like that,’ Olaf said, glaring out the open door.
‘We don’t know his circumstances,’ Esma replied.‘Edda said he may have gone to the village to get supplies.The time probably got away from him, is all.Edda will find him and bring him back.’
‘He didn’t even leave clean linens.’Olaf frowned into the fading light.
‘I think when she sucks on her fist like this, it means she’s hungry,’ said Esma.
‘Do you think he is even her father?’Olaf tugged on his wiry beard.
‘They both have fair hair …’ Esma said, touching the golden fuzz on Little Worm’s head.
‘That means little.My hair is fair too.’Olaf pointed out.
‘Please close the door, my love.Come sit with us.I will feed her again before her father comes for her.’Esma tucked Little Worm into her arm and brought the babe’s head to her breast as if she had been doing it for years, not hours.
‘Ifhe ever comes for her,’ muttered Olaf after closing the door.
I watched him take the rocking chair opposite his wife with a deep sigh.
‘What is it, my love?’Esma looked up at Olaf, a line between her brows.
‘Watching you with a child at your breast is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.And the most painful.’
She smiled at Olaf with a warmth so profound, it took my breath away.
The endless throbbing in my temple had gone from a consistent drumbeat to a flutter of distant thumps, and I wondered if Esma and Olaf’s care for Little Worm was lessening the Curse I was under.
I eased back into the darkness, deciding it was safe to leave Little Worm for the night.
Days turned to weeks, and soon, a month had passed.The thumping in my head stopped, but I stayed close, hiding in the dilapidated barn.I would check on Esma and Olaf every few days to see how Little Worm was.
Her cheeks grew round and ruddy, and loose golden curls replaced the fuzz on her head.She thrived in Esma and Olaf’s care.
I spied Olaf carving a rabbit out of soapstone in the yard.He spoke to Little Worm who sat upright in a basket propped against rolled linens.
I stayed out of sight to listen to the one-sided conversation.
‘Tomorrow will be your name day, and I will claim you as my daughter.I only hope I can be the father you deserve.’
I shifted uncomfortably, feeling as though I was intruding.
‘You are no ordinary child, are you?You are a gift from the gods, little one.’
He leaned in close to her, and she grabbed his beard with a gurgle.I smiled.
I would miss that sound.
Olaf held up the carved rabbit, and she let go of his beard to try to take it, but Olaf pulled the carving away.
‘Nay, it’s not finished, little one.’
Her bottom lip extended with a quiver, and I thought she was about to cry, when a thin spindle of smoke left her hand and wrapped around the carving in Olaf’s open palm.
