In today’s episode we read the chapter 23 – Déjà vu – in which Farfalla finds herself in a horrifyingly familiar situation.

This week's podcast partner is The Nightcap Nebula:https://podcasts.apple.com/podcast/id1672430903?ign-itscg=30200&ign-itsct=lt_p

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The Skylark Bell is brought to you by: Phaeton Starling Publishing and Things with Wings Productions.

FULL TRANSCRIPT:

Things with Wings Productions presents: Chapter 23 of The Skylark Bell, Skyedive. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.  

In last week’s episode Farfalla was found guilty of bringing harm to Nurse Betsey and pushed off the edge of a cliff in punishment.

In today’s episode we read the chapter 23 – Déjà vu – in which Farfalla finds herself in a horrifyingly familiar situation.

Today’s podcast partner is The Nightcap – If you’re a fan of the eerie and inexplicable, be sure to check out fellow Boopod Network member The Nightcap! The name may sound familiar as we’ve worked on a collaboration in the past which yielded my story Mrs B’s haunted Trinket Shoppe and their fantastic episode about haunted objects. Check the snow notes for a link to their podcast.

Now, it’s time to settle in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink… and let’s get started.

Perhaps it was all a dream. The part with the villagers and the Skye Lark Belle. Perhaps it was only moments ago that I fell off the boat taking James and me to the island. Perhaps I am dreaming. Perhaps I am dying.

The water is cold. So cold I can’t think. I can’t function.

I think my hands are still tied behind my back. 

So, it wasn’t a dream. 

My hands. I am holding something. The bell. Frannie secretly handed me the bell. The bell and the song, they can get me out of here. It’s like déjà vu. I can see rays of sunlight filtering through the water. I can feel myself sinking into the sand. Again.

The Oak Tree. I must think of the oak tree, and the song. I must sing. I must sing in my mind and hold onto the bell. 

I will think of Elisabeth, my darling Elisabeth. Perhaps this time I will return to a time and place where we can be together.

I can feel the sand under my back now. I think this is the part where everything goes black. I don’t like this part… It’s so lonely. I’m tired of being lonely.

~~~~~~

Farfalla feels hands reach down and grasp her by the shoulders, pulling her out of the darkness. She feels water rushing around her as she moves upwards. Finally, she breaks through the surface and heaves a deep, raspy breath. The familiar, searing pain shoots through her lungs. She keeps her eyes squeezed shut, afraid of what she will find when she opens them. She takes a moment to catch her breath and calm her nerves, falling to her knees and letting them sink into the sand. I am on a beach, she thinks. She feels someone unbind her hands, and she slowly brings her arms forward, her shoulders screaming in pain. She finds the courage to open her eyes and looks down at her hands, her fingers outstretched. She can see a pattern of spiraling skylarks imprinted into her skin. The bell! She had been gripping it so tightly in her hand it left a mark. But where is the bell now? Panicked, Farfalla scans the ground around her and runs her outstretched hands through the sand, but the bell is nowhere to be found. 

Finally, Farfalla looks up at the person who pulled her out of the ocean, but she can only see a tall silhouette against the blinding light of the sun. Suddenly the scenery around her begins to spin, and she feels her body falling into the sand as everything goes dark, again.

Farfalla can hear soft voices around her, speaking a language she cannot understand. She takes a moment to get her bearings. She is laying on a straw bed, she can feel the hollow stalks of straw poking through the thin fabric covering it. She cautiously opens her eyes and looks up. She appears to be in a makeshift tent type structure framed with branches. The voices hush, and Farfalla turns her head in the direction they had been coming from. She sees a tall man dressed in a long white gown, not unlike her own gown, though his isn’t covered in blood and dirt. Next to him stands a tall woman her long, blonde hair formed into a thick braid that rests on her left shoulder. The man approaches her bedside and kneels, so they are almost at eye level. He speaks words that make no sense, guttural sounds, gibberish to her. He then looks at her expectantly. He has asked her a question. Farfalla attempts to sit up, but her head immediately begins to throb. He places his large hand gently on her chest and pushes her back down, shaking his head. She closes her eyes, exhausted, and gives in to the darkness once again.

Farfalla has no idea how long it has been since she last opened her eyes. Hours? Days? This time she sits up successfully and takes note of her surroundings. She can smell smoke in the air, there must be a fire nearby. There is no one in the tent with her, so she takes her time scanning the small, mostly empty room. Across from her bed she sees a small table on which sits a collection of small bowls, each with different herbs or oils in them. Next to the flap that serves as a door she sees a pair of sandals sitting on the dirt floor. She looks down at the floor near her bed and sees a pitcher and cup filled with water. She takes the cup and empties it in one gulp. She hadn’t realized how parched she was. She grabs the pitcher and refills the cup, emptying it of its contents in a millisecond. She is refilling the cup a third time when the man walks into her tent. He smiles at her, and gestures for her to continue. Farfalla fills the cup and takes a few more gulps before putting it down. She stands up, taking a moment to ensure her legs can carry her, then takes a few tentative steps around the room. Confident that she is steady on her feet, she turns to face the man. He says a few words that she doesn’t understand, and gestures for her to follow him out of the tent. 

The scene before her takes Farfalla’s breath away. She is both amazed and disheartened. Clearly, she has travelled even farther back in time, away from Elisabeth. She is in a clearing in the woods, the thick canopy of tree leaves above heavily filtering the sun. There are several tents erected around the perimeter of the clearing, and in the middle an ancient, towering oak tree stands guard. Nearby, several pots hang from branches that reach across from one side of a roaring fire to the other. She can smell sage burning, and hear women chanting, their words unintelligible. She follows the man as he walks closer to the fire, and as they round the corner of her tent she sees the women dancing, their long hair in intricate braids with flowers and feathers woven into them. Farfalla stops in her tracks, hypnotized by their movement, their sound, and the fragrance of the burning sage. The man stops next to her, amused at her amazement. After a short while he taps her on the shoulder, and they continue their excursion.

He takes her to a much larger tent at the opposite end of the encampment. There, they find an old woman sitting on the ground at the back of the tent, her silver hair untamed and falling down her shoulders in ringlets. She looks up at Farfalla and smiles, gesturing for Farfalla to sit across from her. She says a few words to the man, and he exits the tent.  Farfalla takes a seat across from the woman, and they face one another in silence for a while. Just as Farfalla is about to get up, unable to take it anymore, the woman holds a hand up to her chest and says “Cailleach, Cailleach Oidhche”.

Farfalla struggles to repeat the words. “CAlia HAYshuh” she says, awkwardly. The woman nods sympathetically. Farfalla lays her hand on her own chest and says “Farfalla” then puts her hands together and flutters her fingers like a butterfly. 

The woman smiles at her. “Dealan-dè,” she says. Something about the word rings a bell, and Farfalla tilts her head to the side trying to recall where she’s heard it before. It takes her a moment, then realization sets in. It was the boy on the beach. He insisted they had met, but that her name had been Dealan-dè then. The old woman, Cailleach, reaches her hand out and swipes three of her fingers down Farfalla’s cheek. Farfalla can feel something wet clinging to her skin. The woman then dips her fingers into a bowl filled with a type of blue paste, and runs her forefinger above Farfalla’s brow, then down her chin. She then proceeds to draw the same pattern on her own face. They are like two sides of a mirror, one young, one old. She dips her fingers in the blue paste one more time and draws an incomplete circle on the surface of the wooden plaque laying before her. She then draws a serpent’s head, mouth stretched open, where the line of the circle had stopped, and forms the end of the other line into a serpent’s tail which stretches into the inside of the open mouth. “Ouroboros,” she says. Farfalla stares at the image of the serpent consuming its own tail. An endless loop.

“I am the healer of my tribe,” says Cailleach suddenly in perfect English. Farfalla is shocked, she was beginning to think she would never find anyone to understand her. “I have grown old, and I am tired. It is time for me to share my knowledge with a new healer. I believe that person is you,” she says. Farfalla is too stunned to reply. “Let’s go for a walk,” says the woman, smiling. Farfalla stands up and helps the woman to her feet. She holds her arm as they exit the tent, and the woman guides her to a nearby path that winds its way into the woods.

“Where did you learn to speak English?” asks Farfalla, finally regaining control of her voice.

The old woman looks at her slyly, a mysterious smile teasing the corner of her mouth. “You taught me, my dear. A long time ago,” she says, waiting for Farfalla’s reaction. 

“I… that doesn’t make sense!” replies Farfalla, completely at a loss.

“It will, in time,” says the woman as they press on into the depths of the forest.

Thank you so much for listening.  Join me next week for Chapter 24 – Time, in which Farfalla navigates her startling new reality.

Before I finish, a tiny note on today’s episode. I like to hide little easter eggs in the story, there are many throughout all 3 books, and I plan on releasing a document detailing them once we’ve reached the end of the trilogy. But for today I’d like to share this one. The name Cailleach Oidhche means Tawny Owl, and translates more literally to "The old woman of the night" - as you have probably already noticed I like to incorporate bird references into the story, and this name seemed perfect for a wise old woman like Cailleach. 

The Skylark Bell is brought to you by Phaeton Starling Publishing and features original music by Cannelle. If you are enjoying this story, please consider leaving a rating or a review, they are both greatly appreciated. You can also support my work by subscribing to Patreon or Ko-Fi, where you get early access to episodes as well as MP3 downloads of the music, artwork, behind the scenes videos and more! You can also find The Skylark Bell exclusive merch on my website, www.theskylarkbell.com. Just check the show notes for all necessary links.

Once again, thank you for listening – I’m Melissa Oliveri, writer, host and producer of The Skylark Bell Podcast. 

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