The Wispwood Pendant

Wispwood held many secrets. The vine choked ruins, the howls in the night, the fairy sightings the old folk still swore were true—but the greatest secret of all was the one Lila uncovered one summer on her Aunt Maddy’s farm. It was the secret of the Wispwood Pendant, the very one which hung around Aunt Maddy’s neck, staring back at Lila with an unblinking emerald eye as it gleamed in the afternoon sun.

“Many years ago, one of your ancestors found this pendant sitting atop a mossy rock,” Aunt Maddy told her as they sipped tea. “Down in old Wispwood forest.”

“What’s so special about it?” Lila asked.

“They say it once belonged to a beautiful wee princess from an ancient land,” said Maddy in her best storyteller’s voice. “The pendant was enchanted, it let her forbidden lover appear beside her in secret beneath the cover of oak and yew.”

“Really?” Lila whispered. She reached out and felt the gem. “So, what happened to her? Did they get married?”

“No, it’s not a happy ending,” Aunt Maddy said with a light chuckle. “But I think you’re a little young for that part of the story. Maybe when you turn eight. Or, better yet, eighteen.”

“Why are you telling me then, Auntie?”

“Because it still works. If you know how to perform the Ritual of Wispwood,” she said with a wink.

For a moment, Lila was entranced, then she began giggling.

“I almost believed you, Auntie! I don’t believe in fairytales anymore, you know.”

Aunt Maddy’s face was kind but unflinching.

“Perhaps some fairytales are true,” she said. “Do you trust me, miss Lila?”

Lila could see this was one of the few times her Auntie was serious and nodded.

“Good. Close your eyes,” said Aunt Maddy, “and picture the color green and whisper these words: ‘Beir lim ano’. You’ll appear beside the pendant, or whoever is wearing it. Take your time, poppet. I’ll be in the other room.”

Closing her eyes, Lila did her best to follow the instructions. She whispered the words. The first time, nothing happened. The second time, she began to hear whispering around her, a sound like wind passing through the trees. The third time, the green in her mind’s eye burst apart into bright speckles, like the sun piercing through a forest canopy above. A figure appeared in the glow—a beautiful, pale woman sheathed in a flowing garb. She smiled at Lila with warmth, and she took her by the hand and dragged her down into the earth. Through the rock and dirt and roots, Lila was woven until—at last, she was drawn back up and into the light of day.

She opened her eyes, it was a different room and Aunt Maddy was standing beside her, grinning. Lila shrieked with joy, hopping up and down like the time she first saw snow. She settled herself bit by bit, the excitement giving way to curiosity.

“But how does it work?” Lila asked.

“That isn’t for you to know just yet, petal,” her mother said, entering the room with a wry smile.

“Aye, not yet,” said Aunt Maddy. “We needed to know you had the gift. But for now, Miss Lila, you must promise to never use it away from the farm, and only when you know exactly where I am.”

“But the drive up to your farm is so long, I always get sick. Can’t I use it to skip the ride, Auntie? Please!”

“Promise me you won’t.”

“But why?”

“Just promise me,” Maddy said, more stern than Lila had ever heard her speak. “One day, when you’re older, I can tell you why.”

Lila noticed her auntie’s eyes had turned red and misty. Her aunt’s gaze settled on a photo above the fireplace of a girl about Lila’s age.

“Maybe this was a bad idea…” Maddy muttered.

“Who is the girl in the photo, anyway?” Lila asked.

“Let’s not talk about it now.” Lila’s mother said, placing a hand on Maddy’s shoulder. “Just know that if you use the pendant without our permission, it would make us both very, very sad.”

Lila huffed.

“Okay, then.” she said. “I won’t use it.”

Lila’s father stepped into the room.

“Hello, girls. I’m afraid we’re going to have to pack up and head off tomorrow morning. Something’s come up at work.”

“But Dad, school doesn’t start for weeks. We just got here!”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

“I want to stay!” she screamed. Lila spent the whole year looking forward to those few weeks they would spend on the farm every summer.

“Me too, but this client is too important. We just can’t.”

Aunt Maddy knelt beside Lila.

“I know it’s disappointing, poppet,” her Auntie said, “but I’ll still be here next summer. Now, you’ll be a good girl and remember what I said, won’t you?”

Lila sniffled, nodded and wrapped her arms around her Auntie.

“I’ll miss you, Aunt Maddy,” she whispered.

“I’ll miss you too, Laura.” Maddy whispered back.

“Laura? Who’s Laura?”

Aunt Maddy shot up.

“Lila. I meant Lila.” Maddy said, with a horrified look on her face.

“C’mon, petal.” Lila’s mother said with a strained smile and scooped her daughter away.

The next morning, Lila was sat in the back of the car with her arms crossed.

“We’ll be back next year,” her father offered.

“I want to be back now,” she grumbled.

They were halfway home when Lila realized she could go back. Any time she wanted.

She bit her lip. Aunt Maddy had made her promise to never use it outside the farm, but why? Lila was sure her Auntie would be overjoyed seeing her favorite niece appear beside her, and Dad could do his stupid work while she gets to spend summer running around the farm.

So, sitting in the car, Lila decided to enact the Wispwood ritual.

Just at that moment, Aunt Maddy picked up the photo from the mantelpiece, the one of the young girl, and stared into it. She wasn’t Lila and Lila wasn’t her, and every so often she had to remember. Tomorrow, she would cancel the horse-riding lessons she had booked for her niece. But for now, she’d prepare a shower.

She drifted over to the bathroom and tried not to look into the mirror. As always, she took off the Wispwood Pendant before submerging herself, but her hand slipped. The pendant tumbled from her grasp and slid down into the drain, quick and silent, like a snake into a mouse burrow. She gasped, and peered into the black hole, unsure of what to do. The next moment, she saw something that sent her running to the telephone.

The sound of crunching bones and tearing meat came from down the drain. Hair was spouting from inside. It looked just like Lila’s.

About the Author

Theo Carr is a New Zealander living in London. His work has received the finalist award in the Writers of the Future competition twice in 2023. He enjoys writing sci-fi, fantasy, and horror as a creative outlet.