The Wispwood Pendant

Wispwood held many secrets. The vine choked ruins, the howls in the night, the fairy sightings the old folk still swore were true—but the greatest secret of all was the one Lila uncovered one summer on her Aunt Maddy’s farm. It was the secret of the Wispwood Pendant, the very one which hung around Aunt Maddy’s neck, staring back at Lila with an unblinking emerald eye as it gleamed in the afternoon sun.

“Many years ago, one of your ancestors found this pendant sitting atop a mossy rock,” Aunt Maddy told her as they sipped tea. “Down in old Wispwood forest.”

“What’s so special about it?” Lila asked.

“They say it once belonged to a beautiful wee princess from an ancient land,” said Maddy in her best storyteller’s voice. “The pendant was enchanted, it let her forbidden lover appear beside her in secret beneath the cover of oak and yew.”

“Really?” Lila whispered. She reached out and felt the gem. “So, what happened to her? Did they get married?”

“No, it’s not a happy ending,” Aunt Maddy said with a light chuckle. “But I think you’re a little young for that part of the story. Maybe when you turn eight. Or, better yet, eighteen.”

“Why are you telling me then, Auntie?”

“Because it still works. If you know how to perform the Ritual of Wispwood,” she said with a wink.

For a moment, Lila was entranced, then she began giggling.

“I almost believed you, Auntie! I don’t believe in fairytales anymore, you know.”

Aunt Maddy’s face was kind but unflinching.

“Perhaps some fairytales are true,” she said. “Do you trust me, miss Lila?”

Lila could see this was one of the few times her Auntie was serious and nodded.

“Good. Close your eyes,” said Aunt Maddy, “and picture the color green and whisper these words: ‘Beir lim ano’. You’ll appear beside the pendant, or whoever is wearing it. Take your time, poppet. I’ll be in the other room.”

Closing her eyes, Lila did her best to follow the instructions. She whispered the words. The first time, nothing happened. The second time, she began to hear whispering around her, a sound like wind passing through the trees. The third time, the green in her mind’s eye burst apart into bright speckles, like the sun piercing through a forest canopy above. A figure appeared in the glow—a beautiful, pale woman sheathed in a flowing garb. She smiled at Lila with warmth, and she took her by the hand and dragged her down into the earth. Through the rock and dirt and roots, Lila was woven until—at last, she was drawn back up and into the light of day.

She opened her eyes, it was a different room and Aunt Maddy was standing beside her, grinning. Lila shrieked with joy, hopping up and down like the time she first saw snow. She settled herself bit by bit, the excitement giving way to curiosity.

“But how does it work?” Lila asked.

“That isn’t for you to know just yet, petal,” her mother said, entering the room with a wry smile.