“That’s enough!” said Lochlann, rising from the chair with such force that he knocked over the table, gold coins pouring from the magic purse. Eibhlin’s mouth clamped shut as control over her tears broke and they ran down her face as he stared at her, his face flushed and eyes flashing with anger. However, on seeing the tears, Lochlann’s voice became choked as he reached out to touch her wet cheeks. “Eibhlin, Eve, I… I didn’t—”

“Don’t touch me,” the girl cried, jerking back. Before the man could protest, Eibhlin turned and ran out the door, slamming it shut to mask the sound of her father calling after her.

On and on she ran, the work of her body pushing the sobs back into her throat. Up, down, over, and around smooth hills till they turned to rocky masses topped with grass. Slowly, the hills diminished until only grass and rock remained. Over the sound of her pounding feet rose the sound of pounding waves, and the smell of salt water filled the growing wind.

At last, she could see the end: the border of the country, the border of the earth itself, the White Cliffs. Nearing the edge, she slowed, but only enough to more carefully descend along the natural path covered in pebbles and puddles of last night’s rain. Down, down she went until she reached a small outcrop of rock and sea salt, and there, with burning lungs and aching legs, she fell to the ground.

Thunderous roaring rent the air as the ocean lay siege upon the cliff sides. All sound gave way to the boom and echo of wave against rock. Within the safety of the crash of waves and the quaking air, with her pale hair the color of cold sunlight lashing her face, she cried.

She cried till the sky darkened, cried till her head hurt, cried till it was too painful to cry. And as the cries left her body, her mind, too, screamed, questions pounding her spirit like the waves did the cliffs. Why? She had never seen her father so furious. Or so sad. Why had this happened? How had this happened? What was she supposed to do?

Eibhlin shivered in the wind and sea spray.

This was all because of that fairy! Because of that deal, everything had fallen apart. All because of trading away the hammer. Staring out at the sea, Eibhlin whispered, “Well, then, I’ll just have to get it back.”

Moonlight mothered shadows as Eibhlin slid through the doorway. She could make out her father’s shape, his head cushioned on his arms as he slept at the righted table. On the wood surface, catching hints of cold light from the doorway, glinted the gold coins sitting around their enchanted purse. Wincing with every creak of the floor, Eibhlin grabbed her satchel, hastily tiptoed into the bedroom, and changed into a clean dress. She grabbed the remaining clothes from her trunk, along with a bronze knife, and stuffed them into the bag. After putting on her cloak, she returned to and crept around the main room, grabbing some food, the jar of jam, a flask of water, and finally the fairy purse and its shimmering coins.

As she placed the purse in her satchel, she heard her father groan and froze. When she saw he remained asleep, she risked putting her hand on his curly head and whispered, “I’ll be back. Don’t worry. I’ll fix everything.

With those parting words, she slipped out the door, closing it as silently as she could, and ran away, leaving behind the only place she had ever known.