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“How do I do that?” I ask.
“I do not know the rules of the world you live in are.”
“I’ll find out,” I promise.
“If you believe you are ready, then we shall grant you the information you seek about your powers,” the woman says.
“I believe I am. What will happen if I’m not?”
“Then this will hurt a great deal,” she responds.
“Ah.” It’s a risk, but I fully believe what I’m saying. “I’m ready.” I can’t move into working out how this is a part of me if it isn’t one. I have to fully know what I am and how my magic works in order to make that a reality.
“Close your eyes.”
I take a deep breath and do as she says. I don’t know what to expect from this, but I know it’s the right thing to do.
Wailing starts to build from the assembled women and I feel magic pulse through the air in response. It gets colder and the air swirls, bringing the sound of their voices with it. Something within me tugs towards the sound, wanting to be part of it.
No, not even wanting, it’s like Ineedto be part of it. Which I suppose makes sense in that this will one day be me communicating with future banshees of my bloodline.
I open my mouth and begin to let out the same keening wail as the women around me. It isn’t the scream from my previous dreams, it’s more harmonious and doesn’t hurt.
I can sense the old woman step forward and touch my forehead.
Thoughts vanish as all kinds of images flash through my mind. It’s centuries of knowledge and use of banshee magic, how to recognise the dying, when to do something about it, and how to deal with the sorrow it causes. Sometimes, I recognise one of the faces as belonging to one of the women who are surrounding me, but without their names, that’s useless information. All I really need to know is that they’re part of my bloodline and that their magic is now part of me.
The wailing ceases and I open my eyes, surprised to find that all but one of the younger women from the circle has disappeared. She smiles at me with sadness in her eyes and steps forward.
“Anja,” she says. “You’ve grown since I last saw you.”
Understanding slots into place. “You’re my mother?”
She nods. “I know you may be angry at me for leaving...”
“I’m not. My parents told me that you had no choice but to give me up.” A lump forms in my throat. “They always spoke well of you. But if you’re here...”
“Yes, I am here because I no longer walk among the living.”
“Do all banshees speak so poetically?” I ask. “Do I need to learn how to do that?”
She lets out a surprising laugh. “No, it’s just that the older generations speak in a certain way and it rubs off on you after a while. You’ll learn to speak this way once your spirit is here.”
“That doesn’t sound like a fun way to spend eternity.”
“I’m only an echo, Anja. Only the banshee part of me resides here. The rest of my spirit is at peace.”
“Oh.”
She steps closer and brushes some hair out of my face. “I’m glad I got to see you.”
“Me too.” I stare at her, seeing how alike we are, but how different at the same time.
“I’m glad you’ve found people who love you.”
“I have,” I assure her, thinking of my parents. And of Cethin. I know we haven’t said that to one another yet, but I can feel it hanging between us even without us needing to.
She smiles. “You’re strong, Anja. I’m sorry that you’ve had to find out what you are alone and that I wasn’t there to guide you, but know that I’m proud and I know you will find the peace you need in order to use your powers.”
