Orla's memories

Fallwater Manor vaulted a wide river that wound through the fields and rocky plains of Inishbofin island, the main body of the house held up over the rushing waters by magic and a few crumbling stone pillars. Every year, the wardings were renewed by a few of the Aunts -- this year, Orla joined them for the first time.

"Keep out of that water," snapped her Aunt Maggie, who was using her wand to guide a beam of newly-hewn wood into place above them.

Maggie was the eldest among those gathered, and the most strict. Another Aunt secured it with a sticking spell with deft and neat wand gestures -- the beam creaked briefly, then settled.

"Knowing you, you'll step into a current and get swept over the falls."

The half-dozen Aunts chuckled, not unkindly.

Orla took a step back from the slow-moving water, her bare feet aching from the cold stone beneath them. She didn't say that going over the fall, which she could hear in the near distance, sounded thrilling -- instead, she watched her Aunts, and copied their gestures with her empty hand. After a few moments, she inched her way closer once more and stepped down, smiling wide as the cold water bubbled around her ankles.

"Orla!" Aunt Clodagh shouted, turning in the river with a face full of thunder. Her skirts were tied up about her hips, but she was close to the middle of the river and the water was soaking the material. Orla winced and straightened, trying desperately not to pout.

"But I swear I saw a Murtlap, Aunt Clodagh!" she began, raising her voice to be heard over the river. One of the younger Aunts tittered, but a look from Aunt Clodagh silenced her. "Can't I look for it? I promise I won't go in deep!"

Orla knew it was pointless to ask, but she always tried. Her Ma always said it was her worst fault -- always questioning, never accepting things as they were. Clodagh knew this, and her face scrunched into an expression of deep disappointment.

"You were allowed to come here so that you could watch your Aunts work and learn from it, Orla," she began, wading closer with surefooted steps. "If we are boring you, you can go help feed the Flobberworms."

Orla physically drooped; she knew this threat well, and could not face another minute feeding those creatures, particularly as they'd just doubled their numbers during spring mating. But she wanted so badly to explore the river bed; even if it was unlikely that a Murtlap lived here, the small chance of seeing something new made Orla feel itchy with suppressed excitement. 

She looked up at her Aunt, who gazed at her with the usual Fallwater impassiveness, and knew she would not be allowed to explore. She dropped her eyes to the glittering surface of the river, balling her hands into fists as her eyes filled with tears of frustration. 

The river gurgled as Clodagh turned and walked away, back to the task at hand. 

"Pay attention, this will be your task one day," she called without looking at Orla.

Orla bit her lip and kept her head down; her family knew she was crying, but she would have to get it under control by herself. 

Unseen by the witches, the Murtlap fizzed bubbles, irritated at being disturbed, then swam back into his burrow.