Snap
an excerpt

Old Mother Shadow was an ancient woman who lived on her own in the heart of the forest. Whenever Snap went for a walk in the forest, no matter which path she took, or how long she walked, or what adventures she had and new things she saw along the way, she would always, eventually, end up in Old Mother Shadow’s yard.

Old Mother Shadow’s place was not always so easy for anyone else to find, for the old woman could move her house about as she pleased – or more to the point she could rearrange the forest around her house as she pleased – and she was not usually keen on receiving visitors. But her door was always open for little Snap the Radiant, and Snap was never disappointed to find herself suddenly stepping into the sunlit garden of Old Mother Shadow, because the old lady would always be coming out of the house with a tray laden with ice cubes tinkling in tall glasses of lemon cordial and delicious shortbread biscuits. This was why Morisiana the Many-Eyed was never worried when her tiny daughter wanted to go for walks on her own in the deep, dark forest.

And Snap would tell Old Mother Shadow about her latest adventures and what new trouble her uncle Maxwell had got himself into that day, while Old Mother Shadow sat in her rocking chair knitting a shawl, which never appeared to get any larger nor ever get closer to being finished as far as Snap could see, and chuckling merrily at Snap’s stories. Snap loved it in that garden. The flowers were always blooming, and the sunshine was always warm against her skin. There was a beautiful fountain amongst the roses, carved out of old, weathered stone, featuring all manner of strange and wonderful creatures.

“What are those?” Snap had asked one day, pointing to creatures that were half-human and half-fish.

“Why! They are your grandfather’s people, the Mortud!” Old Mother Shadow exclaimed. “Do you not know that?”

Snap looked at her with incredulity and slowly shook her head, then laughed, for she decided that Old Mother Shadow must be joking. “My grandfather doesn’t have a fish body! He has legs!”

“Ah, well, sometimes, my dear, we do not always look exactly the way that we really are.” Old Mother Shadow replied. “Your great-grandparents decided to leave the sea to live on the land and their fish tails weren’t going to be of much use to them on land now, were they?”

Snap shook her head and smiled, because she still thought the old lady might be trying to trick her.

“But, although they live on the land, your great-grandparents were, and your grandfather and even your father and his brothers are still Mortud in their hearts. Just think of all of the time they spend swimming in the river and in the sea.” That was certainly true. Even in a land full of people that loved the water, Snap’s father and his family spent even more time in it than most.

“But my father and uncles’ legs don’t turn into a fish tail when they go swimming.” Snap said.

“That’s true,” Old Mother Shadow smiled, “For their mother, Helena the Sad, is not Mortud and that family trait has not been passed on. But have you ever seen your grandfather’s legs when he is in the water?”

Snap thought about it and then shook her head again, her eyes wide, and Old Mother Shadow chuckled, “Of course, there’s no point asking your grandfather about it.”

And then the conversation moved on to the other wonderful creatures that were immortalised on the fountain, and Snap sat on its edge paddling her feet in the cool water (looking carefully for signs of fishiness but not seeing any) and watching Old Mother Shadow’s pet crane as it elegantly strode to the fountain and dipped its head up and down to sip the water.