Sarah used her free hand to try to pull her thin cloak around herself more tightly, awkwardly balancing the long sticks she carried for a moment in the crook of her other arm.  It was bitterly cold, but there was naught for it - sticks made brooms, and brooms brought copper, which brought food and clothes for her daughters.  Not for the first time, she cursed the terrible coughing sickness that had felled Thomas last winter.  But she quickly made a prayer of apology and crossed herself.  If God needed her husband in His Kingdom, who was she to complain of temporary grief and discomfort?  Through His grace, she had kept her family alive, at least, in the year since.

She looked up after her prayer, as she often did, but this time saw a golden bird flitting through the trees.  So startled was she by its strange appearance that she dropped her bundle of not-yet-broom-handles.  Vexed, for too much snow-wet on them would make them unfit, she seized a nearby stone and hurled it at the bird, shouting her wordless frustration at life in general and it in particular.

Though her stone flew true, the bird flapped away, unhurt.  But Sarah noticed a glint of gold tumble down and hurried over to the spot.  There she saw a golden feather, and when she picked it up she knew it was gold in truth and not just in color.  Her broomsticks forgotten, she hurried straight away towards the center of the hamlet where her sister's house stood.

Acacia had done much better for herself.  Fortunate enough to have been apprenticed to a goldsmith, she was now one herself, and her deft hands and sharp eyes kept her work in demand.  She was so well-to-do that though she had not been blessed with children, she kept a husband far more handsome than she deserved, eager to please and at leisure save for occasional tasks about the house.  William had become a fair hand at cooking, even, and regularly provided his wife with delicious feasts.  In point of fact, there was always extra, and Sarah's girls often stole away to the house to let him stuff them with the scraps, a habit which had kept them from the edge of starvation more than once.

Sarah hurried around to the back of the house where the shop-front was and inside.  The room was comfortably warmed by a small furnace, and Acacia was hunched over her work-table, laboring over a bracelet with a tiny hammer and awl.  Without ceremony, Sarah laid the golden feather onto the table before her sister.

"Look, have you ever seen its like?"  Acacia glanced up and picked up the feather, studying it closely.

"This detail is amazing...I don't think I could produce a piece like this with a year's toil!  How did you come upon such a thing, sister?"

"A bird in the wood, if you believe it!  It dropped this feather, and if it is truly gold as it seems, I shall melt it down and take it as a gift from the Lord to ease my family's burden!"  Acacia worried at the stem gently with her thumbnail and nodded, though she frowned as well.

"It is gold, I would stake my shop on it.  But I could not bear to see it melted, please let me pay you its weight in unworked gold and keep the feather myself?"  Sarah clasped her hands and whispered a prayer of thanks, then nodded, with a shrug.

"As you see fit, sister.  It may be beauty to you, but to me it is food and warm clothes for the girls."

"Excellent, we are agreed, then!  And I would offer a similar bargain for any more like this you might find."  Sarah assured her she would look, then hurried off with her gold to immediately spend it as she'd described.

Alone in the shop, Acacia examined the feather again under her enlarging glass.  Beautiful, certainly, but more importantly, the detail of the feather was so perfect and fine, it would fetch far more than it's weight in gold.  The woman felt a pang of conscience at not agreeing to at least share evenly in the proceeds with her sister.  But as she always did when she thought of Sarah's circumstances, she reminded herself that the girl had made her own choices, and deserved only what she earned from them.  Marrying a woodcutter, of all things...honestly.

---

Sarah had felt blessed beyond measure at seeing her daughters twirl in their new dresses and cloaks.  Nothing fine or fancy, but thick and warm and without patch upon patch to let cold air sneak through the seams.  She'd made a thick stew and they'd all slept without hunger for once.  Now she was out again.  If a single feather worked such a miracle, think of a handful!  She could even buy stock, open a proper shop, perhaps.

After hours of searching without a glimpse of anything but snow and trees, she began to grow discouraged, and returned to seeking out sticks for brooms.  In time, she found herself again near where she'd first seen the bird.  It was still nowhere to be found, but she did notice a nest in a nearby tree, made obvious by the tree's skeletal lack of leaves.  She hesitated, wondering if she was being greedy or surrendering to flights of fancy, but found herself dropping her bundle and scaling the tree.

She nearly fell out when she'd ascended high enough to see what was inside the nest.  No bird, nor feathers, but a single gold egg, about the size of a robin's.  Again she said a prayer of thanks, more fervently than the last, and claimed the egg.  Though it too seemed of gold, she was cautious and held it as gently as she would a normal egg, though this made climbing down somewhat laborious.

Soon after, she burst into her sister's shop, beaming.

"What now, another feather?"  Sarah shook her head, holding up the egg and rushing over to present it.

"No feather, but an egg!  Truly the Lord is smiling down on me!"  Acacia blinked in surprise, but took the egg and examined it.  Again she was struck by the beauty of the thing, tiny cracks and even textured spots somehow represented in the metal's surface.  It seemed the thickness of a normal egg, though, heavier for the weight of the metal, but not a solid lump.  A couple shakes convinced her it was empty, mores the pity.

"It is not quite as lovely as the feather, but still I will offer the same bargain," she said.  Sarah nodded eagerly.

"Of course, dear sister, I'm grateful for your generosity!"  Acacia felt a little uncomfortable, as again she was losing nothing in this arrangement.  Without thinking, she made an impulsive offer.

"Actually, if you could find the whole bird...I will pay you twice its weight!"  Sarah gaped.  It had not been a large bird, but still, with that much gold...she would be as rich as her sister!  Her daughters would want for nothing, and she could dress in silks and never make a broom again.  She fell over herself nodding agreement.

"I'll search day and night, I won't squander the opportunity the Lord has given me!"  Acacia sighed to herself.  Her sister wouldn't know opportunity if it knocked at her door and announced itself as "Lord Opportunity".  Partly because she lacked the imagination to think of keeping the bird and taking feathers and eggs from it repeatedly, as Acacia fully intended to do.  Partly, because at the word "Lord" her head would empty and she'd cross herself.  The goldsmith chuckled softly at her uncharitable thoughts.

"Just laughing for joy over your fortune, sister," she said quickly, noticing Sarah's confusion.

---

For the better part of a fortnight, Sarah did nothing but search the wood for the golden bird.  High and low, in trees and gullies, she scoured the forest without success.  She often returned to the nest, but never saw the bird there...perhaps it knew she'd taken the egg, and would not return.  With the gold from that egg, she'd bought new blankets and fine food, and while the blankets remained warm, the food was eaten through, and there was no money left.

Finally she knew that she had to give up on her search for the bird and go back to making brooms, lest she not be able to afford firewood and food.  She let out a long breath and watched the fog of it rise, as if it was her dreams and she could see them physically leaving her body.  And so she happened to be looking up to see the golden bird alight on a high branch.

It was too high to capture with the net she'd brought.  Holding her breath, ever so slowly, she picked up a stone and pulled her arm back.  She waited, and prayed in her head for God to bless her arm and the stone, to let her be the instrument of deliverance for her family.  Eventually, the bird turned its head away, and Sarah hurled the stone with all her strength.

The bird fell.

Sarah ran over to it.  She could see now that the bird was not completely gold...perhaps one feather in ten was similar to the miraculous original.  The remainder appeared to be quite normal feather and bird-flesh.  It twitched weakly, bleeding from the head, and the broom-maker felt a pang of pity, but did the Lord not give unto us the animals to make of what we would?  She fell to her knees, praying in thanks for nearly half an hour, then collected the by-then expired bird and marched triumphantly to her sister's house.  Acacia looked up expectantly as she entered.

"Sarah!  I'd given up hope...did you...is that...?"

"Yes!"  She held the golden bird up.  "It was my faith that stood the test, and the Lord that blessed my aim."  The goldsmith sprang to her feet and hurried over to a cabinet and withdrew a small jar, then turned back to Sarah.

"Quickly, I have the blue-berry honeysuckle, it'll need..." Acacia trailed off, staring at her sister.

"What?  What is wrong?"

"It's...dead?  Didn't you use the net I gave you?"  Sarah shrank away a bit at her sister's cold tone.

"It...it was too high, sister, I had to use a stone."  Acacia's eyes narrowed.

"Still, a stone from you, at a high branch...you couldn't have killed it outright..."

"It may have lingered while I gave thanks, but I don't understand, the feathers are just as gold either way, are they not?"  The goldsmith bit her lip to restrain the urge to scream at her idiot sister, who had ruined everything.  It wouldn't help, and Sarah didn't need to know what her plan had been.  Still, she couldn't resist knocking her down a bit.

"Oh?  Did you pay a scholar's fee to the Queen's University to find books describing its care?  Did you arrange for blue-berry honeysuckle in winter, at considerable expense?"  Sarah blanched, her face falling.

"No, but..."

"It isn't even all gold.  I hope you don't expect me to pay you twice the weight of that."  Sarah's frown deepened even further, as she felt her dreams begin to melt away.

"I'm sorry sister, I just thought..."

"I believe we both know thinking isn't your bailiwick," Acacia interrupted, a snap in her voice.  "Just go.  I'll give you gold for what few feathers are here, which is more than you deserve, but I can't look at you a moment longer.

Sarah's eyes began to shimmer with soon-to-be shed tears, but she turned and fled, leaving the golden bird on the table.  Acacia felt simultaneously satisfied at seeing her words strike home and disgusted at her sister's weakness, without noticing any contradiction in the combination.  Ever-practical, she withdrew the books from the cabinet that described the bird and sat down to study them again.  If she couldn't keep it to harvest feathers and eggs, perhaps there was some use to the golden bird's carcass.

---

The next day, Sarah apologized to her twin daughters and said that things would be lean for a little while, but if they were patient, the Lord would reward them.  Not sure when her sister would actually be paying her for the feathers, she went out again to gather sticks for brooms, lest they starve in the waiting.

"I wish I could help mother, Chloe.  She's sad again," remarked Hannah to her sister.

"She's sad when there isn't enough food, and we're hungry," said Chloe, sensibly.

"We had such nice food last week.  Meat and cheese and even pastries," Hannah said, a trifle dreamily.  "I guess I got used to them."

"I would rather a steady fare every day than a King's feast Monday and crusts 'till church, but mother says it insults the Lord to deny his gifts."  Hannah considered this.

"Mother likes pastries almost as much as she likes the Lord," she concluded after a moment.  The girls giggled, then turned thoughtful.

"Mayhap we could help.  We're too little to carry broom-sticks, but we could look for grouse eggs, maybe?" suggested Chloe.

"And we could find small sticks and make little brooms, for people our size!"

After more ideas of this ilk, the twins put on their new warm clothes and set out to do what they could to ease their mother's worries.

---

Acacia's heart nearly stopped, and moved her eyes back over the passage she'd just read.

It is well understood that the heart and the liver of the Aurea Avem are the font of its rich plumage and lay.  But it is said by old tales in the East that should an individual consume both, they would thereafter find a piece of gold under their head each morning upon waking.  Agrippa argues this does not follow, for wherein would the gold be so magically transported?  Instead he suggests such action would instead cause one's hair to become as gold much as the feathers are hair of the bird, and as hair naturally falls upon ones pillow so would explain the legend.  As men do not lay eggs, it is uncertain how that aspect would correspond, but it is agreed that great care should be taken in procreation...

A gold piece every morning!  Her imagination was set afire by the notion.  She had enjoyed goldsmithing once, but eventually her love of the craft had dimmed into drudgery, and simple need for the fruits of her labor.  If she could gain gold without labor at all, she could do whatever she wished!  Even if it instead turned some of her hair gold, that would be just as easy to harvest as feathers might have been, if perhaps with less added value from intricacy.

"William!  William, I need you, quickly!"  Her fine husband rushed in, dressed as was his habit in a neatly-cut vest of silk and snug breeches of the softest leather, his dark hair swept artfully over one eye.

"What is the matter?  I thought to find you burned by molten metal, but I see you are fine."

"Dinner," said Acacia, "I've a desire to eat this bird whole tonight.  Cook it up for me, and save every bit, mind you."  He looked at the bird, from which the goldsmith had already plucked the feathers that were of gold.

"It is small, but even so, the whole thing?  I'm happy to share."

"No, every bit for me.  You ought to have something lighter at any rate, if you want to continue to fit in those breeches," Acacia noted, grinning.

"As you wish, love," he said breathily, leaning in to tease her with a kiss.  He loved his wife's money more than the woman herself, but he'd long practiced his charms, and took pleasure in putting them to use.  Acacia, for her part, briefly lost her train of thought in the tingles of heat across her lips, her hand brushing his firm rear.  Still, she managed to remind him on his way out with the bird.

"Every bit, mark me!"

---

"All the wood is wet," Hannah complained.  "I don't know how mother manages to find good sticks."

"She can reach the higher branches," pointed out Chloe.

"We haven't found any grouse eggs either, and I'm hungry."

"Well...if mother is sad because we are hungry, she should be less sad if we were less hungry..."  Hannah squinted at her sister.

"So?"

"Wouldn't that mean if we got some scraps from Uncle William, and weren't so hungry after, that would be helping mother?"  Hannah's face lit up and she lunged into a hug with her sister.

"You're so sharp!  Let's go right now!" she exclaimed.  They'd rarely had so noble an excuse, and hurried into town.

The girls made their way into the kitchen door, and their Uncle was nowhere to be seen.  There was the smell of baking, though, and a small bird was roasting on a spit.  Hannah, unable to resist the opportunity to fiddle with something, turned the spit a couple times, causing a pair of small bits to fall into the dripping pan below.

Their eyes met in a grin, and in a flash each girl was alternating nibbling at her bit with blowing on her fingertips to cool them from the hot grease.  Neither minded meat of heart and liver, as they'd never been well-fed enough to be picky.

William entered, by now in his cooking apron, humming to himself.  But when he saw the twins finishing the last of their snacks, he gasped.

"Tell me, please, that you weren't eating from this bird..."

"Just bits from the drippings!" said Chloe.  "We've had them before..."  Hannah just gaped at her uncle's unusually serious tone.  He shook his head, and sighed.

"You couldn't have known, but it's still polite to ask first!"  The girls looked so abashed and apologized so contritely that he took pity and gave them two fresh rolls from the oven before he shooed them out of the kitchen.

"Thank you, Uncle!" they chorused as they headed home.

William ran his fingers through his hair, thinking.  Acacia could be a nightmare when things didn't go her way...he had the bruises to prove it.  But maybe he could still salvage the situation.  He rushed to the market and bought a scrawny rooster, removed the heart and liver, and roasted them close to the coals for a few minutes before poking them into the bird on the spit.  With any luck, she'd never notice.

Sure enough, his wife finished her dinner with a determined smile, which grew particularly satisfied as she ate the substitute heart and liver.  When she insisted on going to bed early, he agreed knowingly and wore his briefest silk smallclothes, but was quite surprised when, after she got into bed, his wife simply turned over to sleep.

Acacia, oblivious, didn't actually fall asleep right away, so excited was she about the morning.  But eventually weariness closed her eyes, and after a dreamless night, opened them to morning's light.  Eagerly, she pulled up her pillow, but there was nothing underneath.  She ran to her dressing mirror and turned her head this way and that, searching for any hint of gold in her dark locks, but there was none to be seen.

Damn fools and their books of 'theosophical' nonsense.  And damn my idiot sister, she thought, furiously.  She'll be lucky to get even half-weight for the feathers...even quarter-weight would be generous, given what she's put me through.  I'll wait until she asks, until she begs, even...

---

The next morning, the girls rose to see their mother off.

"Don't wander all about today...you need to read your hundred verses and do your copying," she admonished, handing each of them an uneven wooden slate and a chunk of charcoal from the fire.

"Yes, mother," they said dutifully.  Sarah turned to go, but when Hannah sleepily brushed her hair out of her eyes, an unusual shine glinted for a moment in the dim false-dawn of early morning.

"What's this?" she asked, picking through her daughter's hair.  She gasped and covered her mouth.  In the low light it hadn't been obvious, but looking closely, there were clearly thin strands of gold woven through Hannah's otherwise mouse-brown hair.  A quick examination of Chloe's hair produced a similar bounty.

The girls were a little frightened at how their mother went on and on about it being another miracle, but at least she was happy.  At least there'd be food.  It didn't even occur to Sarah to involve her sister...there was no art to this gold, she would happily melt it into bits herself.

When, the next day, it was discovered that all the plucked hairs had been replaced as new, Sarah insisted they all pray for a full hour in thanks for the Lord's unstinting aid.  By the third day, it seemed that there would be no end to the golden strands.  Floating on a cloud of faith and generosity, Sarah went to her sister's.

"Sister!" Sarah said, bursting into the shop with a glowing smile.  Acacia looked up.  She'd expected her sister to wait longer before begging, she'd always been unjustifiably proud.  But her expression was confusingly happy.  Maybe she'd 'seen the face of the Lord' in a knot of wood or something and already forgotten all about the bird?

"Sarah," she greeted, neutrally.  "What can I do for you?"

"Nothing!" the broom-maker said with glee.  "The Lord has provided for us!  I just came to share the news of our deliverance, and let you know I won't need the payment you promised for the feathers.  Just use them to make you and William happy, and I'll be satisfied."  Acacia stared.

"That's...very generous of you."  She narrowed her eyes.  "How exactly did the Lord provide for you?"

"He has blessed the girls!  Every morning when they wake, their hair is woven through with gold!  Even when pulled, the next morning it is returned in full!"  Sarah's beatific smile dimmed in pace with her sister's growing scowl.

"When did this start?  Three days hence?"

"Just so!  However did you know that?" asked the broom-maker, now looking concerned.  Acacia ignored her.  Those damned bratty scavengers!  Always wheedling scraps out of William...she could've sworn she'd had the bird's heart and liver, but they must've eaten the proper bits, whatever they were!  And it had worked, just as the books said, only somehow for both of them...maybe because they were twins?  It wasn't fair!  She studied and planned and plotted, and Sarah and her runny-nosed brats would wake up every morning to effortless gold?  She let out a short scream of frustration, and her sister stepped back in shock.  Acacia prepared to lay into her with a torrent of invective, when a fitting revenge sprang fully-formed into her mind.

"Ohhh," she moaned, theatrically.  "I did not mean to startle you, sister, but I am pained by your misfortune!"  Sarah blinked, her brow furrowed.

"But...whatever can you mean?"  Acacia leaned forward, conspiratorially.

"Four days hence, after you left I...had a vision.  I...saw the Lord's face in my cider, and He spoke to me," she extemporized.  Sarah gasped, and crossed herself.  Encouraged, Acacia continued to spin lies, thinner than her finest gold leaf.  "The vision said that the golden bird was actually a pet of the devil himself, escaped from his cage in the Pit!"  Sarah paled, and might have fallen over if her sister hadn't gripped her by the arm.

"No!  I was so sure it was from the Lord..."

"The devil's best lies are cloaked in righteousness," Acacia intoned, unsure if she was quoting the Bible or had just made it up.  Sounded good either way, as Sarah moaned piteously.  "In any case, I sought to destroy it in the fire immediately, lest it spread some infernal sickness in my house.  But your children...well, they must have come by thinking it was being coal-grilled...they absconded with some of its cursed flesh as is their habit, and now they are cursed as well!"  Sarah's legs completely gave out and Acacia let her fall this time, tired of holding her up.

"No, no...my beautiful girls, it can't be, it can't!"

"It is," insisted Acacia grimly.  "My vision was from the Lord, so it must be truth."

"I'll take them to the church, they can purge the evil!"

"No!" shouted the goldsmith.  "You would only spread the devil to our very church!"  In the intensity of the moment, neither sister thought it odd Acacia said 'our', though she almost never attended services.  "In fact," she said, inspired anew, "if anyone but you sees their cursed tresses, they would be at risk!"  Sarah began to weep.

"I must keep them locked away forever?  What lives would they have?"  Acacia was nearly satisfied by that thought, but then rejected it as insufficient.

"No, sister, your faith protects you for the moment, but even you would be in danger.  You must take them deep into the wood and leave them there, never to search them out again!"

"I can't, I can't...they'll die, they're all I have, I can't!"  The broom-maker's expression was so horrified that it gave Acacia that peculiar combination of satisfaction and disgust.  Honestly, the brats were better off in a bear's stomach than suffering under her idiot sister's delusions.

"All you have?  Don't you have...the Lord?"  Acacia pointed a finger in judgement, and Sarah recoiled.

"Of course!  I didn't...I just meant..."

"Have faith that the Lord will see to their fate.  Perhaps in His power He can purge the evil within them, and see them returned to you," Acacia mused casually.  An unhealthy fervor rose in her sister's face.

"Yes!  Yes, of course!  It is all in His plan, and He will drive the devil from them and send my beautiful girls back to me, pure again!"  Sarah stumbled to her feet and clutched at Acacia's shoulders uncomfortably, making her wince.  "Thank you sister, thank you, and thank the Lord for letting you see truly!"

As angry as she was, as little as she cared for the suffering of others, hearing her sister thank her for telling her to abandon her six year old children to die in the woods was...a bit much.  It actually gave Acacia pause.  For a moment, she felt an impulse to confess the truth, to make Sarah feel stupid again but at least save her from murder by neglect.  But then she imagined Sarah growing angry, denouncing her in church, and of course they'd believe her, and if the townspeople shunned her business as a result, her gold would eventually run out.  She'd have to move or starve, assuming they didn't instead just decide the devil was in her and do something truly nasty like burn her at the stake or something.

The door closed behind Sarah's back, with nothing further said.

---

"Mother, how much further is it?" asked Hannah.  They'd been walking into the wilderness for nearly the whole day, and she was tired and a little hungry...despite the gold from her and her sister's hair, no more food had been bought with it, they hadn't even pulled any this morning.

"A bit further, you must be strong, all right?"

"But where are we going?  You never told us," complained Chloe.  Sarah looked at the position of the sun.  Perhaps it was far enough...barely enough time for her to get home at her best pace, well past the point her daughters' tiny legs could make the trip before nightfall, if they could even find the way.  She stopped and turned to face them.

"Hold your sister's hand," she urged the girls.  "Now listen carefully."  The broom-maker took a deep breath and gathered her courage with a silent prayer.  "I did not tell you before because I did not want to frighten you before I had to, but...the gold in your hair, it is...it is a curse from the devil."  The girls stared, wide-eyed.  "I know it is terrible to hear, but have faith.  You must wait here, as long as it takes, and pray as much as you can.  Pull out your golden hairs, every one, and bury them in the ground.  When you wake up without gold in your hair, you will know the Lord has driven the devil out of you, and He will send you back to me."

"I don't have the devil in my hair, it's pretty!" insisted Hannah.  "And it makes us not poor!"

"That is how the evil one tempts us, with vanity and greed," Sarah replied, crossing herself.  Hannah began to cry, and Chloe brought her into a hug.  The expression she gave her mother, over her sister's shoulder, was full of fear and confusion.

Sarah hesitated.  She wanted nothing more in this moment than to comfort her girls, to reassure them, to somehow transfer her faith that if only they did as the Lord wished, everything must turn out fine in the end.  She almost took a step towards them, but stopped herself.  If she embraced them, she feared she would not have the strength to let them go again, with or without her faith.  She turned away, instead, so she would not have to see.

"I love each of you always.  Remember to pray...Lord help us and have mercy on us," she said without turning back, her voice breaking, and began to run back home, stifling her own sobs.

Chloe stared at her mother's figure until she was out of sight, still patting her sister's back.  It took even longer for Hannah's tears to stop.

For a while, they sat on a fallen tree and said nothing, as if talking about the situation or even praying, as their mother had urged, would make it real.  But without the activity of walking they soon grew colder, and the sky began to dim as well.  Chloe began gathering sticks.

"What are you doing?" asked Hannah, dully.

"I'm going to make a shelter, like father taught us."  Last year, before he'd grown sick, their father had decided they were old enough to be taught the basic necessities of forest life, how to find water, what plants could be safely eaten, and how to build a shelter.  He hadn't thought of any particular scenario in which the girls would need such knowledge, but unthinkable things happened often enough in the world that he taught them nonetheless.

"But mother said we should pray," protested Hannah, her spirit slightly roused by her sister's seeming defiance.  "What if we don't pray enough because we're doing this instead?"

"We weren't praying before," Chloe pointed out.  "Besides, we still have to sleep overnight to see if the gold comes back...without a shelter, we might not wake up at all."  Hannah frowned.

"But...if we pray, God will protect us, won't he?"  Chloe bit her lip, considering.  She wasn't sure...she wasn't any older or smarter than her sister, she was just trying to do something to make things seem less horrible.  Praying could do that too.  But she'd noticed that her mother seemed, at times, to be two different people.  Her mother who prayed all the time and wanted them to read 100 bible verses a day insisted that the Lord loved all his children and would protect and provide for them if they were faithful.  But the other version of her mother worked very hard to earn money for food, to gather firewood to keep them from freezing.  She had approved when her husband taught their children to survive...none of which would be necessary if she really truly believed the Lord would make everything okay.

"God helps those that help themselves," Chloe quoted.  This nightmarish day made her doubt those words...they sounded like an excuse for God not doing anything.  But it might let them do what they needed to without giving up on God completely.  Hannah blinked at this, but nodded, and began to help.

They'd barely any light by the time the shelter was finished, but they used it as best they could to ensure they'd plucked every golden hair from each other's head, and dug a hole with a stick to bury them a short distance away, putting a rock on top for good measure.  It was too late to look for edible plants, so they huddled together for warmth and prayed until they could not keep their eyes open.

---

The next morning, for the first time ever, each sister did not smile happily upon seeing the other.  For they were in a tiny burrow of sticks instead of their bed, which meant the previous day had not just been a nightmare as they'd secretly hoped.  Further, their ordeal had not ended, as each saw the gold had returned to her sister's hair, and felt the slight stiffness that said it was again woven through her own as well.

Mother must be right, it was a curse from the devil, how else could something that had seemed so miraculous and happy now seem so horrible and miserable?  In wordless agreement, the sisters again plucked the gold out of each other's hair and buried it beside the rock from yesterday, then stayed on their knees in their shelter, praying fervently for God to remove the evil from them and return them home to their mother.  They didn't want to take the time to find water or food, so they just ate snow and tried to ignore the growing complaints of their bellies.

"We prayed all day," murmured Hannah, well after nightfall, as her eyes began to droop again.  "Surely God will help us now?"

"I'm sure you are right," said Chloe.  She felt a stab of guilt, since she was not sure, and lying about God was probably even worse than lying to her sister, which felt horrible all on its own.  But she wanted to believe, and didn't that count for something?  Wasn't that what faith was...trying to believe, even when it was hard because you didn't have good reasons?  Plus, it might help Hannah sleep.

But once again, when they woke, the gold had returned.  The sisters did not say anything.  They again plucked the gold from each other's hair, but there was little hope in it.  They just didn't know what else to do.  The girls prayed listlessly for a few hours, until they could not concentrate for the gnawing in their stomachs that snow no longer satisfied for more than a minute at a time.

"We have to look for food," Chloe announced.  "It's harder to keep warm, food is like firewood and without it we'll freeze solid...eating snow is making it worse."

"No!" Hannah yelled.  "That's...the devil tempting us!  We have to keep praying!"

"If we starve or freeze, we'll stop praying anyway!" retorted Chloe, frustrated.

"You do what you want.  I know what mother would want, so I'm going to pray!"  Hannah stubbornly bowed her head and re-clasped her hands with renewed fervor.  Chloe climbed out of the burrow and stomped away with unnecessary force to begin looking for the nuts or berries she hoped to find, and feared they desperately needed.

She wasn't able to find more than a bare handful, but it was better than nothing.  However, when she returned to the shelter and first sighted it through the trees, her hand opened by itself from pure shock and the precious food fell to the ground.  Hannah was sitting outside the shelter, talking with a woman.

"Mother!" Chloe cried, her heart swelling with relief.  She sprinted forward eagerly, then stopped short when she saw the woman was not their mother.  She had the same dark hair, but her nose was sharper, and she dressed in an assortment of leather and furs rather than her mother's wool dress and cloak.

"You must be Chloe," said the woman.  "My name is Marion, I hunt these woods.  Your sister has been telling me about your...situation."  Hannah nodded happily.

"You see?  God sent her to help us!" Chloe felt hopeful, but suspicious at the same time.

"You can lift a curse of the devil?" she asked.  The huntress shook her head.

"I've encountered such sorcery once or twice, and I misdoubt it can be broken while you continue to draw breath."  Hannah's face suddenly fell as she saw her hopes dashed.  But the woman rushed to continue.  "The curse of it, though, is not the gold itself.  The love of gold is the root of all evil.  There I might help you."

"What do you mean?" Chloe asked, baffled.  Marion raised her arms to indicate the forest around them.

"I live a simple life here in the forest.  The beasts I hunt bring me skins for leather and fur, and meat for eating.  The trees provide wood for arrows and bows, the flint of the earth arrow-tips.  I have long passed any need or desire for gold.  Nor do I care much for the company of...other people.  But I had sometimes prayed that even in my isolation, God would somehow find a way to give me children of my own.  If you were to stay with me, I think my own freedom from gold might in time find its way into your hearts, and the devil would then have no power over you, and both our prayers would be answered."

Hannah was still crestfallen that their troubles would not be entirely waved away by some miracle, but Chloe took up her hand and spoke to her in urgent tones.

"Hannah, I think she is right!  We can't stay here any longer, there isn't enough to gather and we don't know how to hunt, or make fire to cook."

"If she wants to help, she could leave us meat...then we could keep praying," Hannah mumbled.

"I think this is the answer to our prayers.  Maybe God knew things were too hard for mother, that she couldn't keep all of us fed.  He tested her with the gold, but she was strong enough to leave us in His hands...we have to be strong too."  Marion nodded approvingly.

"I know your mother truly hoped God would mend all and return you to her, but His ways are not for us to know.  She...I am sure she loves you very much.  If you were not meant to return, I am just as certain she would be happy and grateful that you were warm and safe in another home than left to perish in the woods."

Hannah began to cry, and Chloe joined her.  Partly in relief that they would not die, but also partly from the loss of realizing they might not see their mother again for some time...if ever.  Marion let the girls grieve for a few moments, then crouched beside them and opened her arms wide, offering comfort if they wanted it.

After a moment's hesitation, they flung themselves into the huntress' embrace, and their tears were swallowed by the thick fur across her shoulders.

---

Years passed.  At first, the girls continued to pluck the gold from their hair each evening, still in hope that one morning they would find it gone.  But after months and months, in which the caches of golden hairs accumulated to the point of becoming a nuisance, they stopped.  Marion, so hopeless had been her impossible desire for un-sired children, loved the girls even more fiercely as a result.  While Hannah and Chloe missed their mother, they eventually came to return their adoptive mother's love in equal measure.

It was a fine enough life.  They were never hungry, or cold, and felt fulfilled as well for the huntress taught them all of her skills and lore.  The girls were satisfied by the richer diet hunting provided and stopped thinking of fine pastries or clothing or the other things gold might buy them in the village.  It was just as Marion had said...the curse of gold had no power over them.  Through their active lifestyle, they grew as lithe and strong as the huntress that had raised them.

One day, Marion bid the sisters both accompany her into the woods.  They were of age, and she judged them ready to attempt their trial shots.  If they were successful, she could pronounce them true huntresses, free of their apprenticeships.  They stalked about for some time, but fitting game was scarce.  But the elder huntress noticed a flock of geese winging their way north in a familiar "V" formation.

"Hannah, take two from the back," she said, pointing, "one from each side."   Hannah hesitated in surprise, but realized if she did not act quickly the geese would pass from view.  She drew back the arrow she'd already knocked, took aim and let it fly.  She swiftly pulled another from her quiver, then knocked and loosed it as well before the first had struck...sure enough, both of her targets fell.  The party eagerly searched out where the birds had fallen, and both were well-taken.  Marion and Chloe congratulated Hannah heartily, and the young woman glowed at the praise.

While they waited for more game to appear, Hannah began to consider just what this meant.  No longer an apprentice, she'd be free...but what did that mean?  She loved her foster-mother and sister more than anything, and did not exactly look forward to parting from them.  Normally she'd be expected to leave, or become a full partner of her teacher, in either case so as not to compete.  And Hannah did have an itch to see more of the world than her dim memories of the village of her birth and the woods where she'd grown.  But Marion rarely sold the fruits of her labor to anyone else, only going to a village to trade when she wanted more books, or for a bit of ironwork she could not make herself.  Perhaps she expected her daughters to live with her forever?

Marion caught sight of another flock of geese, this time in the shape of a a sloppy "2".  She pointed them out and bade Chloe to bring one down from each trailing end.  Chloe drew immediately, but took her time aiming, correctly deciding again to target the rear goose first, then the hanging tip of the "2", lest the latter's demise scatter the rest.  As fast as her sister, two arrows flew true, and when the prizes were collected, Chloe as well was pronounced a huntress in her own right.

"Now," said Marion, with a sly smile, "let me take these birds, for I've a plan for tonight...I don't want to see either of you back at the cabin before dusk!"  The sisters shrugged and agreed, and stood in silence for a time after their foster-mother had left with the geese bouncing on a string over her back.

"I've been thinking," said Chloe eventually, "about what happens next."

"As have I," said Hannah.  "I love you and Marion dearly, but I also want to explore!"  Her sister smiled.

"I'm of a similar mind.  We've shared with her a dozen years of love, I don't think she would begrudge us the freedom we've earned today."

"But I don't want to leave you either!" said Hannah, her eyes shimmering with emotion.  Chloe shook her head.

"Nor I!  But there's no reason we can't travel together, is there?"  After a moment, Hannah realized her sister was right, and her mood improved immediately.

"See, that just proves it...without you, I'd worry myself into an early grave," she noted, shaking her head.  They shared a brief hug, laughing, then set off to have a relaxing walk in the woods until dusk, as they'd been asked.

When they returned, they found that Marion had prepared a celebratory feast.  One of the geese had been dressed and well-cooked, and she'd harvested an abundance of side fare from the garden and the woods nearby, and even cracked a small cask of spirits she'd somehow procured or produced.

"Let's sit and enjoy," she said when they entered.  "Three fine huntresses at a fine feast!"  But the sisters glanced at each other, hesitating.

"Before we eat, there is something we must ask," said Hannah.  Marion saw from their expressions that they were serious, and grew concerned.

"What is it, daughters?"  But Hannah had lost her nerve and only fidgeted, so her sister continued instead.

"We cannot thank you enough for all the shelter, the training, the love you have shared with us.  And if you truly wish it, we could be content to live here with you as long as you want.  We would hate to think of you lonely here.  But if you could bear it, we would like to travel, to see something of the world beyond these woods.  Is that...would you..."  And Chloe trailed off as well, her voice failing her.

Marion began to cry, pulling them into a tight embrace, and they shed their own bittersweet tears, knowing she couldn't let them go.  But then she began to laugh and cry at the same time, and the sisters broke apart, confused.

"Of course, my dear, clever woodlings!  I will miss you terribly, naturally, but I never expected anything less!  My own isolation is self-imposed, and I'd never dream of shackling you the same way."  Whereupon they all began laughing for joy and excitement and their tears were soon dried and lost in celebration.

---

On the day their preparations to set out were complete, Miriam presented her adopted daughters with a short knife, bright steel gleaming.

"My last gift to you, until you should visit next.  The knife is quite serviceable, but it has a quality unlike any other.  If ever you decide to walk separate paths, bury this knife half into a tree.  Thereafter, you need only find the tree again to check on your sister, for the side that faces the direction she takes will stay clean and bright if she is well, and rust if she should die."

The sisters thanked the huntress, and all three shed a few tears at their parting, but before long Chloe and Hannah were off into the woods to begin their travels.  They walked for a full day, talking idly with each other about what people they might meet, what sights they might see.  When the sun began to fail, they made camp and supped, then slept the night without incident.  In the morning they continued, before noon passing the farthest they had ever ranged from Miriam's cabin, and the young women were newly excited.

As the sun kissed the western trees, however, they grew surprised.  They had thought to have exited the forest by now and used some of the old golden hair they'd unearthed to re-provision, but they had seen no sign yet of any human activity.  Though taken off guard, they were not overly concerned, as they'd both proven themselves capable huntresses.  They continued to walk, but with bows out and arrows knocked, eyes scanning the surroundings for game.

Hannah was first to spot a target, a good-sized hare that bounded through a thicket ahead of them, then froze as it saw the women in turn.  She drew, but before she could loose the arrow, she was stopped by something quite unexpected.

"Prithee hold, huntress bold!" cried the hare.  The sisters stared, their tongues frozen by astonishment.

"You...can talk?" asked Chloe hesitantly, when she'd recovered her wits enough to do so.

"Aye, and deal, lest my end you seal!"  Hannah half-lowered her bow, sharing a glance with her sister.

"I'm not sure I can shoot a talking rabbit," she whispered.

"Let's just see what it offers?" Chloe suggested, similarly quiet.  Raising her voice, she addressed the hare.  "What can you offer, for your life?  We've no want of gold, mind you, only fill for our suppers."

"Dear huntresses, do but let me live, two little ones to thee I'll give!" responded the hare immediately.  Chloe considered this, but Hannah shook her head, frowning darkly.

"You'd let us eat your babies to save yourself?  That's awful!" she scolded.

"Plus, we wouldn't get as much meat from two baby rabbits as from yourself," added Chloe, practically.

"But six I have, to guard and feed - I'll lose them all if here I bleed!  Nor would all live I'm sad to say, 'spite all I give from day to day.  An' slim forms as thine sure must be sated, by sup instead of two thus pre-fated?"  The sisters discussed it briefly, and noted the rabbit had a point...if they killed her, all her babies would die, and some would die anyway through the rough dramas of the forest.  In the end they agreed, and the hare bounded away.  Chloe sighed, nevertheless.

"We're probably never seeing that hare again, you know."

"You think it lied?" asked Hannah, aghast.  Her sister gave her a look.

"You've come to terms with her sacrificing her babies to us, but would be surprised if she fibbed about it?  Wouldn't you, in her shoes?  Or paws, I suppose?"  Hannah frowned doubtfully, but said nothing.

But it was Chloe who was surprised, and mildly vexed by a satisfied look from her sister, when the hare returned with two little ones in tow.

"I love you, kits, but now here sit.  Heed these women as you'd me, and know the family lives by thee."  The mother hare nuzzled each in turn, then bound away faster than before, with haste born of loathing to witness what would happen next.

The huntresses and the baby rabbits stared at one another for a tense moment.

"Are you our new mothers?" asked one, in a tiny voice.  Hannah made a soft whimper in her throat, and Chloe sighed.

"Of course they can talk, too.  Why wouldn't they?"  She mumbled, shaking her head ruefully.  "Yes, and hungry ones, so try to keep up while we look for oth-...while we look for food," she answered the animals, in a louder voice.  Chloe turned to continue on the path they'd set, muttering to herself, while Hannah scooped up the small hares into her arms and cooed at them as she followed.

---

"This is getting ridiculous," noted Chloe, as she looked around the small clearing where the party had paused.  And party it was, for the two sisters were now accompanied by not just two baby rabbits, but two fox kits as well, plus a pair each of wolf, bear and lion cubs.  Hannah, who was not-so-secretly delighted, recognized her sister's tone and wisely said nothing.

The mother fox they'd encountered had been in a similar situation to the hare.  The wolf's pack had been trapped by a fire, only she and her two cubs had survived.  She could find another pack, but her cubs were still young, so it was even odds that the Alpha or Beta would kill them.  The bear was deathly frightened, for more and more hunters had come seeking rich fur and she'd already been wounded once by a steel trap.  The lioness had no such hope as the wolf, nor could she say how she'd come to be in the forest at all, having been born and raised on a savanna.   Hunting here was unfamiliar, and she feared she would eventually starve, and her cubs with her.

"It's nearly night, we're no closer to being fed, and on top of that, we now have a dozen mouths to feed instead of just our own," Chloe continued.

"Yes, sister," Hannah said placatingly, unable to restrain herself, "but talking animals!  Besides, we already found some wild greens for the hares, and the rest are so small that I'm sure it won't be much trouble."  Chloe sighed, and smiled despite herself.

"They are cute," she admitted, prompting a grin from Hannah.  "But I worry about the talking...meddling with magic we don't know about seems dangerous.  And why did the mothers speak only in rhyme, while their get seem able to choose their words normally?"

"Oh, I know, I know!" yipped one of the fox-kits, abandoning its attempts to wrestle one of the wolf cubs.  "Momma said there's a witch in the woods, and she practices her spells on the animals!  She had to talk like poetry all the time 'cause it was magic, but then she passed it down to us like her face-stripe!"  The little pup turned to better present the streak of white fur aside her muzzle.

"That's very clever of you," said Hannah approvingly.  "Your name is Fuhsa, right?"  The kit nodded, but her sister bounded over and bumped her roughly.

"She's not clever, that's just remembering!" said the other kit.  "I can actually think of helpful things!"

"Shut up, Vulpa, why do you always have to be better than me?"  They began to wrestle, but Chloe separated them.

"You shouldn't fight," she admonished, "your sister is your best friend when things get hard."  She shared a small smile to Hannah, then turned back to the foxes.  "But what did you think was helpful?"

"Well, momma sometimes stole chickens from the farms around a village beside the woods.  But we're close by there, and I can show you the way!" exclaimed Vulpa proudly.

"I can too," protested Fuhsa.

"Yes, but I thought of it!"

After the huntresses broke up another bout of wrestling, they wrangled together the rest of their menagerie and set off, following the lead of the two kits.  Sure enough, just before full night they found a village where they were able to buy food for themselves and their wards, as well as secure a room at an inn.  Many of the animals slept fitfully, away from their mothers for the first time, but each time they stirred, soft words and touches from one of the sisters quickly quieted them.

---

So it went for nearly a year.  The sisters traveled the throughout the numerous little kingdoms that spotted the land, having their "trained animals" perform to delight villagers and supplement the gold from their hair.  They learned it was important to keep the animals from speaking around others...a well-trained menagerie without cages was a delightful novelty, but talking beasts quickly set people whispering of spirits and demons.  And the income from these performances was becoming ever more critical, as the wolves', lions' and bears' need for meat had grown along with their bodies.  In settled lands hunting was scarce, sometimes forbidden by the crown, and even combining the gold their hair produced daily with the proceeds from their animals' shows was sometimes not sufficient to make up the shortfall.

It was one such night, after getting all the animals settled in the stable despite their half-full bellies, that things changed.

"I think it's time," said Chloe, unhappily.

"Time for what?" asked Hannah, as she readied herself for bed.

"You know."  Hannah lowered her face and fidgeted with the bedcovers.  They'd discussed separating on several occasions, as a matter of practicality.  While many people were usually willing to pay to see a bunch of trained animals, for some reason they weren't willing to pay twice as much to see twice as many.  Which suggested that if they each took half the animals and traveled alone, they could earn nearly the same money, but only have half as many mouths to feed.  But each time they'd brought it up, in the end they'd decided to keep going as they were, neither willing to part from her twin.  "It's either that, or...we'd have to get rid of Ursa and Tragen at least, if not Lea, Lowe, Lupa and Lobo as well," Chloe said, her voice quietly as she named the bears, lions and wolves in turn.

"We can't!  We're responsible for them," Hannah said, miserably.  Chloe rounded the bed and hugged her sister tightly.

"I know, sister.  And I love you for your devotion.  So I'll make the choice.  In the morning, I will go, with half the menagerie, and I won't let you talk me out of it this time."  Hannah returned the hug, tears dampening Chloe's shoulder, but said nothing.  It was a noble gesture, and she knew it was probably right, but she couldn't bring herself to thank her sister for what still felt like abandonment.

They slept, though not well.

In the morning Chloe explained to the animals in the stable, while Hannah stood by silently, trying to hold back tears.  The animals discussed the matter among themselves, and were subdued, but being animals they were not terribly sentimental and had fairly pragmatic views on staying fed.  They eventually worked out who would go with whom, and everyone walked out of town, now two separate parties that happened to be traveling in the same direction for the moment.

When they reached a fork in the road, Chloe wordlessly withdrew the bright dagger Miriam had given them and rammed it into a tree, low enough that it would not be obvious, lest some passer-by abscond with it.

By common impulse, the huntresses took each others hands and gripped tightly.

"I will miss you every day," said Hannah.  Chloe swallowed heavily, and nodded, uncharacteristically overcome with emotion herself.  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"I'll leave word of my intended route in every village I pass, and you do the same...then if...things change, we can find each other again?"  Hannah was forcing cheerfulness into her voice, trying to be strong, and Chloe nearly faltered, but in the end took strength from her sister's example.

"Good thinking.  Until we meet again, then," said Chloe, her voice rough.  "I love you, always."

"And I love you, sister!"  They embraced and kissed each other's cheeks, then Chloe turned away first and began walking away down the road.  Hannah waited until she was out of sight to cry.