Deerheart

Prologue: The Sister Witches
There is a vein of rock in Ireland that runs all the way from the surface of the earth to its molten core. This rock is still known by the old Irish name of Croí Domhain, or Creedon, which means “heart of the earth”–and it was from the Creedon Stone that the ancient world drew its magic.
To protect this power the earth goddess Danu created the sister witches of Creedon Wood and gave them magic enough to guard the Stone, but only if they remained in the forest that surrounded it. The witches were powerful but they were also shackled to their duty.
There are many legends surrounding the Creedon Stone itself, but this is the story of one of the sisters, a witch called Deerheart, and her story begins not with her own birth but with the betrayal and tragedy that made it necessary.
For thousands of years the sister witches not only defended Creedon Wood from invaders but also cared for the forest and its creatures. A witch could live as long as the trees she protected, providing she replenished her magic by sleeping each night at the foot of the Stone; but whenever a witch was lost in battle or passed from extreme old age, one of the Creedon birthing oaks that ringed the Stone would split from root to fork and give forth a new witchling to take her sister’s place.
The biggest threat to the Wood had always been humans, who would hear rumors of eternal life granted by the Creedon Stone and come to claim that gift for themselves.
Kings were the worst of men. No matter how much wealth, power, and land they had, the one thing they could not bend to their will was time itself. In the age before Deerheart the Wood had been attacked almost every spring by various armies, but the borders were held firm by the three sister witches of that age.
Scrawb was the most ancient of the sisters, and she could take the form of a crow to lead an army of birds against invaders.
Hackle was the second witch, and her gift was transforming into an enormous she-wolf to command a legion of wolves and drive out any trespassing humans.
The youngest sister in those days was Púka, who became a fearsome forest goat with horns of silver. The Creedon goats were ready to sharpen their hooves against the rocks the moment they were called upon to fight.
Three sister witches there were. There was a verse in the epic rhyme of Creedon Wood that read:

Witches three
There must always be.
Sisters of the bud,
Magic in the blood.
One to fly above.
One to tend with love.
A third to guide the light.
And all to join the fight.

So there were three protectors of the stone. Always three. But once there were four.
One midsummer evening a thundercloud rumbled over the Wood, unleashing a bolt of lightning that split a birthing oak from branch to bowl. The tree collapsed entirely, and in the wreckage of bark plates and splinters lay a witchling born too soon and still dripping with tree sap. Not a girl witch but a boy. The first boy in the history of Creedon witches.
This was the warlock Drogool, the first and only male protector of Creedon Wood. He was raised by his sister witches, but always there was the shadow of suspicion over Drogool. The goddess Danu was female, the witches were female, and every single attack on the Stone had been led or at least paid for by a male.
Drogool’s magic was forged in the heart of a lightning bolt, and so he grew powerful but also mercurial. Though he was raised to protect the Stone as his sisters had been, Drogool was from the beginning unruly and difficult and never bonded with an animal species as Creedon witches had done throughout history. Scrawb reasoned that perhaps this was because Drogool could shape-change into any animal he wished.
The young warlock listened to whisperings in his own mind and came to believe that the Creedon witches should not hide inside the forest but instead attack humankind in their homes before they could invade. When he suggested this strategy to his sisters, Scrawb dismissed it as so bloodthirsty it could have come from a human. Even if witches could survive away from the Stone, they would always choose peace where possible.
In his eighteenth year Drogool went so far as to challenge Scrawb’s leadership. This was his right and it had happened twice before, but a leadership challenge took the form of unarmed combat and Drogool’s developing powers were no match for his sister’s battle experience. In a great circle of forest creatures Scrawb pinned Drogool several times but his pride would not allow him to submit, and eventually Scrawb had no choice but to knock him senseless in front of his sisters and the assembly of animals.
Vanquished, scarred, and consumed by his own humiliation, Drogool decided to leave the Wood. Because Creedon witches lose their power–and ultimately die–at any distance from the Stone, he chiseled a brick from the Creedon Stone that night so he might live outside the forest. And with this chunk of the very Stone he was sworn to protect, Drogool attempted to make his escape. But the Stone itself cried out to the witches and Drogool was confronted by Púka, who happened to be nearby. His goat sister snatched the chunk of Stone from the young warlock’s hands, beseeching him to abandon whatever plan he might have, and furthermore she promised to plead his case with Scrawb. Drogool feigned agreement but when Púka turned her back he snatched the knife from her belt and used it to stab his own sister. Púka fought desperately for her life but soon succumbed to the fatal wound.
Perhaps Drogool might have made good his escape then, but he was injured in the skirmish and Púka would not release her grip on the Stone fragment even in death. In any event, the remaining sisters were not far behind and a trail of blood led Scrawb to where Drogool rested while magic sealed his wound. The eldest sister witch begged him to surrender, for peace between the servants of Danu was the code of Creedon Wood, but instead he attacked and so Scrawb wrestled her sister’s knife from the warlock and defeated him. Thus for the second time, Púka’s Creedon blade struck a mortal wound.
Drogool’s seemingly lifeless body was swept away in the rushing current of the forest’s underground river, and Scrawb returned Púka’s body to her birth tree while the cries of all the goats echoed through the forest. Hackle’s cries joined them as she realized the full import of what had happened, but Scrawb’s cries were loudest of all because she and Púka had come from the same tree and so were sisters twice over. From that day forward Drogool’s blood marked her forearm and even stained the feathers of one wing when she flew in the form of a crow.
• • •
On the following full moon the oaks brought forth the infant Deerheart and so there were once more witches three, and in that way balance returned to Creedon Wood.