A Little Birdy Told Me

A Little Birdy Told Me
Back in the wintry corner of the Mag Mell

Dian Cecht turns around slowly, drawing out the anticipation. He takes a few steps towards The Cailleach before addressing her.

“Did you say something, sister?” The smirk on Dian Cecht’s mouth reflects in his tone. 

The Cailleach straightens and clears her throat. She repeats, “Wait!”

“Wait for what, dear sister?” False sincerity oozes from his lips. He moves closer to her, triumph gleaming in his eyes. “Did you change your mind?”

With an unsteady voice, The Cailleach replies, “You are not lying about Brigid coming, are you, brother?”

“Now why would I lie about something like that?” Dian Cecht flashes her a toothy grin. “Just all-around fun for a family reunion.”

This mischievous, manipulative side of Dian Cecht few people ever saw. The god of healing is portrayed as noble and kind. Many would not understand The Cailleach’s hesitancy in believing Dian Cecht. But he has fooled her before. Most gods have multiple faces and this trickster is Dian Cecht’s alter ego.

The Cailleach steps backwards, moving away from Dian Cecht. She hears the icy ground crackle beneath her feet. Another step back and she hears nothing. The ground feels soft. The cold ice is replaced by tickling grass leaves and muddy ground. Has the baby learned to channel Spring?

She looks down at the child in her arms. Confusion overcomes her features when she notices the infant is sleeping. How is he doing this? The Cailleach knew of dream projection, but in someone barely a few days old, it is almost impossible. She thinks almost, since she maybe witnessing it at this very moment.

The thought that it is not the baby in her arms, but someone else crosses her mind. She tries to shake the thought away. If it is not the child, then the other possibility is too devastating to imagine. The other possibility is Brigid is here, very near her. And if Brigid is here, she is certainly in trouble.

The Cailleach draws in a breath. She steps towards Dian Cecht. Her movement causes the baby to stir. He coos and the grass under The Cailleach’s feet recedes for a moment. Maybe the infant was sleep dreaming. As quickly as the grass recedes, it grows again, thicker and lusher than before. The blades wrap around The Cailleach’s bare feet, holding her in place. She swallows hard.

“She’s right behind me. Brigid is right behind me, isn’t she?” The Cailleach’s voice quivers with uncertain fear.

An almost villainous smile spreads across Dian Cecht’s face. His eyes sparkle with a strange knowing that The Cailleach does not understand. Is Brigid standing behind her? Had Dian Cecht not been lying? With one simple word, Dian Cecht creates a new fear in her. 

“No!” He says it with such certainty, she knows he is telling the truth.

“Then how?” She glances down at the grass holding her feet in place.

Dian Cecht remains silent. Frustration crosses The Cailleach’s face, causing Dian Cecht to smirk. She asks another question, “Then the baby did this?” Staring at the squirming bundle in her arms.

Again, Dian Cecht only provides a one word answer. “No!”

Frustration turns to anger, as The Cailleach tries to determine what is happening. “Then what? Why is this happening?” She sweeps her free arm around her, snarling at Dian Cecht.

He still remains quiet. The Caileach wants to reach out and shake him, but the ground is still holding her in place. Why is he not saying anything? Through gritted teeth, she seethes. “You are lying to me. It must be Brigid.” She tries to turn around and look behind her.

Dian Cecht clears his throat to return The Cailleach’s attention back to him. “It is not Brigid. But someone far worse.”

Far worse than Brigid? Who could be standing behind her? Who had the ability to control growth and create life? She stutters, “Who?”

Dian Cecht stays still and looks past The Cailleach. A warm smile decorates his face. He knows that what comes next may be the end for The Cailleach.

She asks again, “Who?”

A figure steps from behind and a female voice answers, “Me!”

In between Dian Cecht and The Cailleach stands Quinn. Her flowing garbs are tinged with black scorch marks. Fire burns in her eyes. “Give me my child!” She demands.

The Cailleach tries to put space between herself and Quinn. She sweeps her gaze between Quinn and Dian Cecht. The baby still squirms in her arms, appearing to reach out towards Quinn. The Cailleach turns her attention to the infant, then to her feet and the ground holding her still.

“How?” Surprise peppers The Cailleach’s question.

“I will not say it again,” Quinn steps closer to The Cailleach, hands outstretched. “Give me my child.”

The Cailleach looks down at the baby in her arms. She reaches out and sets the infant in Quinn’s arms. Quinn hugs the baby close to her. A tear rolls down her cheek. Below the ground turns back to ice and The Cailleach is free. Dian Cecht cast a look downward at Quinn. How had she learned to manipulate the grass like that? 

“Quinn, how did you force Spring?” Dian Cecht inquires.

The frozen ground shakes. A rose bush forms and grows where Quinn once stood. The clouds greying the sky part and a ray of sunshine illuminates the small bush. From the hole in the coverage, a small bird swoops down and lights on a blooming branch. The bird’s red plumage shimmers in the sun. A sweet song flitters from his beak. Quinn peaks behind The Cailleach at the little songster. Her eyes soften and a warm glow colors her cheeks. The bird turns its head. It appears as if the animal is acknowledging Quinn.

Quinn tips her head towards the bird and winks. The bird flies away from the bush and lands on Quinn’s shoulder. Quinn kisses the infant’s forehead then turns her attention to Dian Cecht. “I had some help,” she smiles and whistles softly at the small creature on her shoulder.