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stupid?’
    The question caught Meg unprepared. ‘I—because it is. I don’t have the Blessing.’
    ‘What makes you so sure?’
    Meg noted how the old woman’s stare intensified. ‘This is silly. I can’t do magic. I—’ She hesitated before saying, ‘Look, I’ve even tried.’
    ‘Tried?’
    ‘You know, I’ve tried to conjure things—by concentrating really hard—wishing things to happen. But nothing ever does. I was stupid to even believe in magic.’ Emma started quietly chuckling. ‘What?’ Meg asked.
    ‘I was just thinking how much like you I was when I was your age.’
    ‘How?’
    ‘In lots of ways, girl, lots of ways.’ She stood. ‘Come back and see me in the phase of the full moon. Keep what you’ve heard from Samuel to yourself. The old fool should know better than to say these things, even if they are true. Don’t even discuss it with your mother, even though she’ll ask about it as soon as you return home.’
    ‘Why all the secrecy?’ Meg asked, perplexed by Emma’s sudden familiarity.
    ‘I’m asking you to see me again,’ Emma replied. ‘As for the rest, we’ll see.’ Sunfire rose and stepped aside as Emma opened the door. ‘Now I have a lot of work to do. And so do you. Your brothers will be home demanding something to eat.’
    Meg fumbled in her pocket and withdrew the shilling. ‘Here,’ she said, thrusting it at Emma.
    ‘Keep it,’ the old lady answered. ‘I didn’t answer your question.’ And she ushered Meg out of her cottage.
    Heading home, Meg flipped the coin in her hand, wondering why the old woman hadn’t taken the money, why she wanted her to return during the full moon, why she wasn’t happy that Samuel had told her whatever it was that he’d said. ‘She even thinks you’re smart,’ Meg said to Sunfire. The dingo’s ears twisted towards her and his tail bobbed slowly. She laughed and skipped several paces, until she saw Iris Baker staring at her from her shop window. Remembering the flour and the silver coin, she changed direction and headed for the baker’s shop.
    She was drifting above a battleground. Everywhere she could see men fighting and dying, arrows flying, shields glinting in the sunlight. Fires burned on wagons and on bodies. A river ran with blood. Then she zoomed in to a knot of struggling, wrestling soldiers—in to the face of one soldier, matted red hair framing a red bearded face smeared with mud, blood, sweat—her father’s face. He grimaced and looked down, and Meg looked down as well and saw the lance piercing his leather armour. He looked up at her and mouthed the silent words, I’m sorry.
    She sat up, breathing fast, as if she’d run quickly. She was sweating. Silver moonlight streamed through her bedroom window. The house was silent.She pushed aside her blanket and eased up to the rough wooden sill. Moonlight lit the stark white gum tree trunks, making them appear like ghosts. Her father was dead. Sorrow stirred, but strangely she had no desire to cry.

CHAPTER FOUR
    T he black bush rat stopped preening its whiskers and listened. Its nose twitched, tracing the afternoon scents on the hill. The world was changed. The rat shivered, dropped from the rock beside the sun-glittering brook and scampered towards the cave entrance. In the lee of the cave it paused again, sitting up on its haunches to sniff, before it ran inside.
    Samuel flinched as the rat leaped onto his bench, and he glared at being rudely interrupted, but he softened and, lowering the small pottery jar in his left hand, he asked, ‘What is it?’ The rat cocked its head to one side, and Samuel turned towards the entrance. ‘Someone’s here?’ He picked up a black rag to wipe his hands. ‘Who would visit an old man at this hour of the day uninvited?’ he mumbled as he shuffled towards the daylight. Shadows appeared in the entrance. He stopped, and called, ‘Who’s there?’ The shadows lengthened, and three men entered the circle of his yellow lantern