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Every pore in her body shivered in delight, a ripple of pleasure caressing her scorched skin.

Diving under the water, she swam from one side of the pool to the other, flipping like the salmon in Lough Gill.

She swam over to the waterfall, letting it shower over her body in wicked delight.

When she finally emerged from the pool, Issylte shook out her hair and laid down upon a rock, basking in the sun as it warmed her cool skin.

When she’d dried off, she got dressed, picked up her basket, and skipped back to the cottage, eager to share her discovered treasure with Maiwenn.

She burst in through the front door, her damp hair cascading down to her waist.

“ Tatie , I found a waterfall ! And a pool! Just up ahead in the stream.”

She dropped her basket and ran into the kitchen, where Maiwenn was stuffing a chicken with rosemary and garlic to roast over the hearth. Issylte was breathless with excitement.

“I went swimming and diving—the water was cold, but I loved it! I stood under the waterfall, letting it shower all over me. Oh, Tatie —it was wonderful.” She spun in a circle, a dance of delight.

Spotting the vegetables Maiwenn had been peeling, she picked up a carrot and chomped it with relish. “Do you know where it is?”

Maiwenn’s laughter rippled like cascading water. “Indeed I do! Pierrick and I used to bring Branoc there when he was a boy. He loved to slide down the rocks and splash into the pool! It’s so beautiful there, isn’t it now?”

Issylte’s heart nearly burst with joy as her tatie wrapped loving arms around her, showering her with kisses and giggles. From that day forward, the secret waterfall became her favorite spot to bathe each morning throughout the long, hot, humid summer.

The months passed by, and winter followed autumn.

Branoc and Dierdre often visited, bringing supplies, and sometimes staying for dinner.

Even though it had been four years since Issylte had come to live with Maiwenn, Dierdre still remained as aloof and suspicious as ever.

Indeed, Issylte often sensed the unsettling gaze of Branoc’s wife following her every move.

She blushed at the apparent increase in Branoc’s attention as well.

He gazed at her quite differently from his scornful wife, with an intensity that made her feel self-conscious and uncomfortable.

She frequently caught him staring at her breasts, as if he, too, had noticed that she was no longer a child.

He perked up whenever she spoke or entered the room.

His eyes lingered wherever she walked, and Dierdre scowled at the appreciative glances he stole at Issylte when he thought no one was watching.

Issylte tried to ignore his obvious infatuation, but Branoc’s presence made her palms sweat and her entire body feel jumpy.

****

Maiwenn taught Issylte to harvest white willow bark to make fertility potions, jewelweed leaves for skin ointments, muellin flowers for earaches, and valerian root for sleeping tonics.

Each week, they delivered herbal remedies to shopkeepers who sought relief for various ailments, sometimes stopping by the house of a villager too ill to travel into town.

In her four years of study at Maiwenn’s side, developing her divine power, Issylte had become a gifted guérisseuse, a verdant fairy of the Hazelwood Forest.

One morning, while they were at Lough Gill, preparing to fish, Issylte was near the water’s edge, searching for worms to use as bait. Something caught her eye—a reflection on the lake’s surface. She knelt on the muddy bank and leaned over to get a closer look.

The air around her suddenly darkened, as if a storm were rapidly approaching. She was woozy and disoriented as she gazed deep into the lake. Her muddy fingers dropped to her sides as the thrum of power surged through her.

A kaleidoscope of images appeared on the dark surface of the lake—indistinct at first, but increasingly clear—until one emerged like a mirror before her.

She glimpsed her father, pale and sickly, laid out on his bed in his royal chamber.

His eyes were closed, and his body was covered in leeches for bloodletting. Issylte shivered with cold.

Beside the bed stood her stepmother the queen, dressed entirely in black, her head bowed as if in prayer.

A tall, wiry man, also dressed entirely in black, stood beside the queen, murmuring what seemed to be an incantation.

As Issylte stared at the image, the man in black lifted his gaze, his yellow reptilian eyes meeting her own, as if he could sense that she was watching.

A biting cold rippled through her, freezing her in his baleful, powerful stare.

The icy sensation of tingling and numbness crept up her hand—the same as her stepmother’s frigid touch—draining her strength and freezing her in place.

Issylte was shivering, shaking, trembling—when, from afar, she became aware of Maiwenn’s distant voice, calling her name.

“églantine, églantine, come back to me… Come back to me!”

Tatie was tapping her cheek, shaking her shoulders gently.

Slowly, her senses returned. She inhaled the fresh tang of the lake, the fecund richness of the black earth beneath her knees.

The warm sun caressed her frosty cheeks, Maiwenn’s presence a comfort at her side.

Issylte threw her arms around her Tatie, shaking with cold and fear.

Her mouth was dry, her hands like ice. She swam in the depths of Maiwenn’s worried eyes.

“ Tatie , I had a vision. I saw my father, lying in bed, covered in leeches. My stepmother was at his side, and a man dressed in a black robe was standing beside her. He was frightening, Tatie!” Issylte rocked back and forth on her knees, shuddering.

Maiwenn rubbed her back soothingly. “He had eyes like a serpent. Evil, yellow slits. He stared right at me, Tatie, as if he could see me watching!” Issylte shivered with dread.

“I had the same sensation of numbness and tingling, creeping up my arm. Just like when my stepmother touched my fingers. Like when I held the little girl’s hand.

The one who had eaten the wolfsbane.” Issylte grasped Maiwenn’s arms. “He stared right at me, as if he knew I could see what was happening. As if he could sense me watching. And the tingling and numbness—the poison of wolfsbane. What does it mean? I think my father is in danger, Tatie! What can I do?”

Maiwenn wrapped her arms around Issylte, pulling her close.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. But when we go into town this weekend, we’ll see if there’s any news from the castle.

Maybe we can discover who this man in black is.

” She fixed her eyes on Issylte, her voice serious and earnest. “But we have discovered a new facet of your power, églantine. Your gift of the sight is not just through physical touch, but also through water. The second of the three sacred elements of the Goddess.” She kissed Issylte’s cheek, a twinkle in her eye. “Your divine gift is powerful indeed.”

Maiwenn rose to her feet and brushed off her frock. “Come, let’s go back to the cottage. We’ll have a tisane and try to relax. You’ve had quite a shock. We’ll fish another time.”

Issylte nodded and rinsed her muddy hands in the lake water, drying them on a cloth from the basket, which she fetched to carry home.

Back in the haven of her cozy cottage, Maiwenn settled Issylte into the well-worn chair before the hearth and prepared the tisane .

As they sat together before the fire, sipping chamomile tea, she gazed at the blond head she loved so fiercely, envisioning the evil black wizard with yellow, reptilian eyes who now threatened her sweet églantine.

Whoever he was, the fairy witch of the Hazelwood Forest vowed to do everything in her power to protect and defend her beloved Emerald Princess.