The night after her eleventh birthday, Helga awoke to the sound of her mother’s voice. The voice, though quiet, sounded angry and frustrated. Helga could not hear the words with her ears, but somehow she knew exactly what was being said.

“You can’t have her,” Helga’s mother furiously whispered.

“Kigva, my darling,” said an old voice that crackled like fire, “The choice is not yours.”

Helga was confused. Her mother’s name was Helen. Helen Hufflepuff. Who was Kigva?

“I won’t let you take her,” said her mother again, “She’s not a priestess, she’s my daughter.”

“Kigva, you are also a priestess,” said another voice. This one sounded similar to Helga’s mother.

“No, Rhiannon,” said Helen, “I denied the Gift. Purged it from my body.”

“Do you really believe that, Kigva?” said Rhiannon, “Do you think any of us has that ability?”

“It was my Hugo,” said Helen, “I found redemption in his beliefs. His love convinced me how right I was to leave you.”

“Have you betrayed our secret?” said the older voice. The anger in its tone frightened Helga. She hid in her blanket, but could not shut out the conversation.

“No, Mother,” said Helen bitterly, “I wouldn’t do that. As far as I’m concerned the Sisterhood of the Raven doesn’t exist. Hugo doesn’t need to know about it. I never even told him my real name was Kigva.”

“How did you explain yourself to him?” asked Rhiannon.

“I told him I was an orphan girl from the Highlands whose parents were killed by Muggles,” Helen said, “I begged him to take me far away.”

“And he took you here to the Broad Valley where we found you,” finished Rhiannon.

“Now that you know where I am, I’ll have to flee again,” said Helen. “But Helga always comes with me.”

“You’re mistaken, Kigva,” said the old voice.

“Don’t call me that!” shouted Helen, “My name is not Kigva anymore!”

“You are Kigva, twin sister of Rhiannon, daughter of Modron,” said the old voice.

Is that my grandmother? thought Helga.

The voice continued, but the tone changed. It was a proud voice, deep and old. Helga felt a chill run up her back. “You are a Priestess of the Raven and so is your daughter. Foolish girl, no matter where you run you cannot hide from us. I always knew where you were, but I indulged your whims. To continue that is dangerous. You may deny the Gift, but your daughter has it and cannot escape it. The longer you ignore that, the more harm you’re doing to us all, especially her.”

Helga drew a sharp breath. What’s the Gift? How can I hurt people?

“You’re wrong, Mother!” shouted Helen. “Both her parents are magical. It’s natural she’s developed some powers. But she’s still just an ordinary witch.”

“You blind yourself to the truth, Kigva,” said the voice, “Her power is far greater than an ordinary witch. An ordinary witch does not cry out to me at night because inside she knows she cannot contain her power. An ordinary witch does not dream about the Glen. An ordinary witch could not listen to this conversation we are having. Yet Helga does all of these things.”

Helga was so frightened she could not even shake. She did not understand anything the old woman said, except that somehow she knew Helga was listening.

There was a pause in the conversation.

“I suppose you just want to take her to the Glen so she can be Rowena’s servant. Like mother like daughter,” said Helen.

“That’s not fair, Kigva,” said Rhiannon who sounded very hurt. “You were never my servant. You just wanted to believe that to justify leaving.”

There was another pause.

“What would I tell Hugo when he returns home? He’ll want to know where his daughter went,” said Helen.

Where am I going? thought Helga. A wave of dread washed over her.

“Tell him that she’s eleven and old enough so you fostered her out to one of those witches’ convents he supports,” said Rhiannon, “Her life won’t be that much different at the Glen, but she will be far better educated.”

Helen snorted. Then she asked with some concern, “Will I get to see her again?”

“You already know the answer,” said Rhiannon. Then she said loudly, “Helga, I know you can hear me. Please come here.”

With effort, Helga slowly got out of bed and entered the room where the three women waited for her. There was her mother, pale and nervous. Next to her sat a woman who looked like a mirror image of Helen, only with finer clothes. In a corner stood an old woman wearing tattered rags. But she wore those rags like a queen wore robes. Helga stared at her open-mouthed, though the old woman did not so much as glance back. The younger woman knelt down in front of Helga and hugged her.

“Hello, Helga,” she said, “I’m your Aunt Rhiannon, your mother’s twin sister.” She pointed to the old woman. “This is your grandmother, Modron.”

Modron focused on Helga and nodded. Then she looked away again.

“What do you want with me?” asked Helga.

Rhiannon stroked Helga’s hair. “Helga, we’re not here to hurt you. You were blessed with a wonderful gift and we’re taking you to a place where you will learn how to use it.”

“Why can’t I learn it here?” asked Helga.

Rhiannon sighed. “The outside world is dangerous. We’re taking you somewhere safe.”

“Can my mother go with us?” asked Helga.

Rhiannon looked at Helen.

“No I can’t, Helga,” Helen said sadly, “You have to do this alone.”

“Get yourself packed, Helga,” said Modron suddenly, “We have a long journey ahead of us. Goodbye, Kigva.”

Within twenty minutes Helga was packed. Despite the late hour, her grandmother insisted that they leave immediately. They rode in a horse drawn-cart. Helga was quite tired and lay her head on her aunt’s shoulder. Before drifting off to sleep, Helga wondered if she would ever see her mother again. That night she dreamt of the forest she had already seen many times in her dreams.