 Kaw! Kaw! Kaw! Morgana heard the sound of the Chip’s call through layers of sleep and shifted beneath the covers. Her consciousness stirred too, but quietened itself, resolving that the disturbance had been nothing more than the echo of an unremembered dream. She had just begun to sleep back into the deeper levels of unconsciousness when the sound came again, more urgently than before; Kaw! Kaw! Kaw! She stirred again, rolling over completely and repositioning her head on the pillow.
“Morgana!” It was louder, and the voice was more familiar, “Morgana!”
“Kraar?” she muttered, forcing her eyes open and blinking in an attempt to clear her vision; everything was fuzzy. “What is it?” The room was bathed in a flickering red-orange glow; fire. Morgana sat bolt upright and threw back the covers. Lowering her bare feet onto the cold of the floorboards she ran across the room and peered out of her cottage window. She could see the flames...but they weren’t on the ground. They were floating in mid-air.
It was then she heard the voice, she couldn’t discern the words through the layers of stone and glass that separated her from whoever it was who was shouting, but she couldn’t have mistaken the tone of urgency. Morgana crossed the room again, grabbed her dressing gown off the back of the door and then let herself out into the kitchen. She pulled open the back door and paused on the first step, knotting her belt around her waist as the chill evening wind struck her in the face. The sight the met her eyes was even more of a surprise than the cold. A donkey was standing in the middle of the commune with a heavily pregnant woman suspended in the air above its head in a cage made out of fire. It was enough to give her pause.
“Over here!” she called waving her hand in an attempt to attract the familiar’s attention, “and for Mallos’ sake, get her out of that cage.” She threw the back door open as wide as it would go and then descended the steps out onto the grass just in time to take a firm hold on Reece’s arm.
“Hey,” she smiled at the young woman, “I’m Morgana, I’m going to help you. Do you understand what’s happening?” Looking over the panicked girl’s head, she looked to the mule for confirmation. He seemed to be more clued in.
“I have to get her inside,” Morgana explained, “and my cottage isn’t big enough for you. I’ll open the front window and you’ll have to stick your head through. She’s going to need you.”
Morgana began to help Reece across the grass towards the cottage and glanced back over her shoulder at the mule.
“Go to the well,” she instructed, “the bucket on the side should be full; bring it to us, please, we’re going to need it.”
Morgana took a firm hold on Reece’s shoulders and made her look her directly in the eyes.
“Listen to me,” she said firmly and patiently, “if I’m going to get you through this, I need you to calm down. The state you’re in now isn’t going to help you or your baby. You’re going to be okay, but you have to listen to me and do what I tell you, all right?” Her eyes blazed with determination; Morgana did not look like the sort of person you wanted to argue with. She waited for Reece to make some kind of indication that she understood.
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