Chapter 3: The deal is undone

Wounded Child was no longer crying. She knew that this was what she had needed to do all along. Like Leana, she knew the stories of Black Annis, and she also had vague memories of meeting the old witch in the early days of her abandonment, or before. It was not that she was not afraid, for she was truly terrified, but she knew that she had no choice. The decision that she had made over forty years ago, when she was so very young, had to be overturned, and only she could ask Black Annis to reconsider. 

Wounded Child stood tall, although her knees were trembling. She put her hands in her pocket to reassure herself that the items she needed were there. “Thank you” she said to Leana, “Thank you for finding me, and for your love and light. I am ready to go in now”. Leana held Wounded Child’s gaze and nodded. There was nothing she could say. Destiny had to unfold. 

Wounded Child turned to the cave entrance and walked inside. The air tasted of blood and of tears, and she could hear the cries of young children. She kept walking, and every step she took brought her deeper down into the cave, closer to the world beneath the world, and closer to Black Annis. She was suddenly aware of the old witch muttering to herself, and every sinew in her body tensed. She had never been so afraid. 

“Who dares to come here?!” “Who dares to draw near?!” 

Black Annis had sensed the child’s presence and she muttered and mumbled to herself. Wounded Child had reached a bend in the path, and she strained to hear what Black Annis was saying. She craned her neck, stretching it round the corner, and she found herself gripped by gnarled and bony fingers, and peering into the hideous face of one-eyed Black Annis herself. 

“You!” exclaimed the witch, “I gave you what you asked for! I gave you mercy and I gave you what you asked for! Why are you here?!” 

“You!” she repeated, “You, Motherless Child! Why are you here? My business is the children of childless mothers, not motherless children! Why are you here, bothering me again?” 

Black Annis tightened her grip on Wounded Child’s neck, while at the same time pulling on her hair, forcing Wounded Child’s head backwards, so that the witch was able to stare directly into her eyes. Her spit landed on Wounded Child’s cheek and mouth as she spluttered, “Motherless Child, why are you tormenting me?!” 

Wounded Child swallowed hard and stated her case. “Black Annis,” she said, “I have come to make a request. Please, Black Annis, please may I have my own skin back?” 

“Well now! What makes you think that I would do that for you, wretched Motherless Child? You wanted different skin, and different skin you got. I gave you what you wanted, and now you come here and ask for something different. How dare you come here and ask for such a thing!” 

“I did not know” said Wounded Child, “I was too young, and too hurt, and too full of self-hatred to know the harm I would do by wanting someone else’s skin. Please, Black Annis, please may I have my own skin back so that I can heal my wounds?” 

Black Annis’ malevolent gaze softened slightly. “Hmm …. What you say is true, but what would you have to give to me in return if I do this for you?” 

Wounded Child reached into her pocket, “I have three things. I have some star anise, a wooden clothes peg … and I have a question.” 

“A question!” roared Black Annis, clutching the girl’s neck so tightly that her long fingernails drew blood. “What use is a question to me?!” 

Wounded Child closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. 

“What,” she said, “What is your true name?” 

“Aha!” exclaimed Black Annis. 

“A fine question!” 

“My name is Black Annis” 

“My name is ‘Murderer of Children’, my name is ‘Blood Sucker’ and ‘Skin Stealer’. My name is ‘Devil’s Servant’, my name is ‘Old Hag’, my name is ‘You Had Better Be Afraid!’.” 

Wounded Child swallowed hard, trying to gather her strength and courage. 

“And what?” she asked, “What is your other name?” 

“You are too clever!” said Black Annis, “You are too clever, Motherless Child! But I will tell you the answer to your question. My other name is ‘Gentle Annis’. My name is ‘Soul Skin Keeper’, my name is ‘Spirit Guide for Dead Children’, my name is ‘Wise Crone’. My name is ‘Anu’. And my true name is ‘Mother Goddess’.” 

Wounded Child breathed a sigh of relief, and made her final bid to the old woman, 

“Please, Gentle Annis, Gentle Anu, Great Mother. Please may I have my own skin back so that I can heal?” 

Black Annis released her grip on Wounded Child’s neck and retreated to the depths of her cave where she sank into her chair by the fire. For a few moments, she was silent. Wounded Child watched the witch, hardly daring to breathe. As she watched, Black Annis’ hideous face softened, and an other-worldly beauty shone through. 

Black Annis began to speak. 

“I am the Protector of children of childless mothers, purifying and carrying their sweet soft souls to the next world. When you called to me in your dreams and your darkness, I could not help but respond. And yet, what could I do? For you were not the child of a childless mother, but a motherless child. And yet, when you cried out in your pain, I could not help but respond.” 

“And so, when you came to me, I allowed you to stay with me for a while as I worked my trade. You saw the precious soul skins, and helped me to hang them from the branches of the Great Oak. When I took your skin and realised that it was not your time, you asked for a new skin, one that was beautiful, one in which you could hide your shame, and ugliness, and self-loathing. Today, I see the error of this, Motherless Child. I can see the greyness of your skin, and the open, festering sores. I see the grime that cannot be washed away. I see a life unlived, because life can only be lived in a person’s own skin.” 

Black Annis rocked back and forth, her brow deeply furrowed and her head down, her one eye staring at a speck of ash on the floor. Wounded Child held her breath before pleading one final time. 

“Please, Black Annis, please may I have my own skin back so that I can heal and live my own life?” 

Black Annis raised her head. 

“You are of this place, Motherless Child. You are born of this place between the two worlds, and there is magic within you.” 

She turned and looked directly at Wounded Child. 

“My daughter, I will do as you ask. But I must warn you …. The path you now seek to follow will not be an easy one. The pain you will have to endure will, at times, be almost too great to bear.” 

“Go now, brave child, brave and filthy Motherless Child. Prepare yourself for a skin changing ceremony. As the clock strikes six tomorrow evening, be sure to be at the heel of the Great and Mighty Oak, which stands proudly above this cave. Go now!” 

Wounded Child did as she was bidden, and scrambled her way back to the entrance of the cave. The sounds she heard now were of children singing, but she could still taste their salty tears in the air. Their voices rose, and she made out some of the words that they were singing. 

We cry for you, Wounded Child

We cry for you, sweet darling

We are at peace now, but your pain is to come

There will be no peace for you, Wounded Child

Until your deeds are done.

Reviews

[barleygirl]

It's been a while since I read the earlier chapters, but I vaguely remember thinking this read like a story of healing. Now that I read this chapter, without the earlier influence of how you started into this, I do not see this as a story of healing at all, but just a great story, told in the style of the old crones might tell around a woodland fire with long wavy hair almost being singed as a hag dances & sweeps along. Your imagery is great, your dialogue is strong & commanding . . . I love the symbol of losing one's skin . . . this can go far beyond a story of healing. Skin is the great overlooked organ of ours. We barely consider all that the skin can do & constantly does for us. It's almost like a form of wearing God all over us, it's such a protective & regulating force upon our existence. Since I haven't read this in a while & I forget what came before, this feels like a complete short story, in and of itself. I was taken right in, without any need for something that "comes before" -- I was immersed & I stayed immersed, just like a compelling short story. Great work! Sorry I haven't been by in a while. Still trying to finish up my book! Happy Easter! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Coyote Poetry]

The story is getting stronger and better with each chapter. I love how you use the description. Making the characters come alive to the reader. I liked the conversation in the chapter. Thank you dear Helen for sharing the outstanding chapter.
Coyote