“Eibhlin, Milady, Arianrhod is most well known as the ‘Witch of Hours.’ It is her greatest magic, and do not think the temptation irrelevant to you. It never is, not to humans. However, no matter what, you must not accept her offer. You are here for Mealla’s key and nothing else. Do not accept anything else!”

The key! Mealla’s key! That was it. That was why she had come here, to this swamp, to this tower. To find the key the Witch had obtained from the corrupt abbot. But… why did she seek the key? Why… no. Now was a time to focus. There would be chances to think about all that later.

Eibhlin promised. “Good,” said Mel. “Now, touch your hand to your brow and repeat after me.”

With her undamaged hand, she touched her fore-head and repeated, “I swear upon Yashul’s blessing that I shall not accept anything from the fairy Arianrhod, the Witch of Hours, except the key which I seek.”

At last the stringed instrument seemed satisfied. It released a strumming sound resembling a sigh. “Thank you, Milady. And now, let us go see the Witch.”

It took effort to move her numbed feet forward, but at last Eibhlin reached the other shore, and when she rose out of the water, the warmth immediately returned as if it had never left. More than that, her feet and clothes were perfectly dry. The tingling of her two keys sent quivers down her spine, as if they recognized magic. The feeling only increased as she approached the door.

The door was black and fashioned of wood. Silver gilded the polished surface, and it looked more like onyx than wood. Eibhlin stood before the door, hesitant. The feeling of dissonance returned and pulsed inside her head. There stood the door, and to speak with the witch, she must go through it, but need she see the witch? Could she not return… return to… she could not recall to where. But could she not go back anyway? However, the vibration of the keys sent another feeling. They knew. They could feel their sibling nearby. She couldn’t back down, not when she was so close.

Eibhlin reached for the silver handle and pulled. The door didn’t budge. She tried again, this time pushing. Nothing. Well, now what?

“Knock, Milady. Unless you have the key to the door, you must knock,” said Mel.

Eibhlin did. The timbre was undoubtedly that of wood, and the sound echoed in the air as if in a great hall. She waited a few seconds, letting the echoes fade, and then….

“Come in.”

The voice that answered tumbled into Eibhlin’s mind like a cataract, wiping out all prior doubts. So sweet and cool! Like freshly melted snow on the first day of spring, or a sip of freshly drawn water on a summer’s day. She wanted more! She wanted to drink from that voice!

Suddenly, a gentle pull reined in her senses. She stood just inside the entrance, her hand still upon the door handle. She could not remember opening the door and stepping through. Fear rose up in her stomach. Just two words had held so much power over her. She would have to be more careful from now on. “Especially now that I’ve crossed another threshold,” she muttered.

Just then, the voice came again like the sound of bells ringing clear on a winter’s evening or a river’s soothing speech. “Don’t forget to close the door behind you.”

Eibhlin did as she was told, though slowly. She could tell now, could almost taste the syrupy spells saturating the speaker’s words. She now stood in a dark, circular room. It was only a single floor, and the ground and walls were bare. Light came in through small holes in the roof, giving the room an appearance as though moonlight was raining down through the black, or like stars shooting through space. Across the room stood another door.

Another threshold.

“Well, aren’t you coming up?” asked the heavenly voice.

Eibhlin felt the urge to run through the door, and she only just stopped her feet as they tried to move without her will. Deliberately, she stepped toward the door, taking a deep breath as she opened it. Beyond the door stood the walkway, a walled, roofless path leading straight up to the tower. She stepped onto the pathway and back into the uninhibited moonlight.

The full Moon sat behind the tower, so that as Eibhlin went up the path she also stepped closer and closer to the Moon. As she stared at the Moon, a sense of dread, of powerlessness washed over her. Oh, how she wished Mel would speak to her now! However, every time she tried to catch the instrument’s attention, it remained silent, as though it were not enchanted at all. Up and up she climbed. Each step she felt her soul become more and more pressed within her. At last she came to the door. Eibhlin knocked.

“Come in.”

By now, the pull of the voice was close to irresistible, but Eibhlin leaned into that rein on her senses, which she now imagined as a drop of sunlight resting in her chest. She opened the door, but she did not go in immediately. First, she glanced inside. Just inside the door was a short hallway, one lit in a similar manner to the gatehouse, only the beams of light were much larger, forming a patchwork pattern on the floor. At the end was another doorway.

One more door. One more threshold.

Eibhlin stepped inside. She approached the fourth door and knocked.

“Come in,” the voice said again.

Eibhlin opened the door, but despite an urge so strong it felt as though it would tear her apart, she did not enter the room. She gasped.