Spae-Woman. Then she went into silence again, gathering the bog-down and
spinning the thread.

But when the first thread was spun the memory of her child blew against
her heart and she cried tears down. The thread she had spun became
bog-down and was blown away. For days she wept and wept. Then
the Spae-Woman said to her, "Commit the child you have lost to
Diachbha--that is, to Destiny--and Diachbha may bring it about that
he shall be the one that will restore your seven brothers their human
forms. And when you have committed your lost little son to Diachbha go
back to your husband and tell him all you have lived through."

Sheen, believing in the Spae-Woman's wisdom, did what was told her. She
made an image of her lost little son with leaves and left it on the top
of the house where it was blown away by the winds. Then she was ready to
go back to her husband and tell him all that had happened in her life.
But on the day she was bringing the last pitcher of water from the well
she met him on the path before her. "Do you remember that I carried
you across the bog?" he said. "And do you remember that I followed your
soul?" said she.

These were the first words she ever spoke to him. They went back
together to the Spae-Woman's and she told him all that had been in her
life. He told her how his sisters had acknowledged that they had spoken
falsely against her.

He took her back to his own Kingdom, and there, as King and Queen they
still live. But the name she bears is not Sheen or Storm now. Two sons
more were born to her. But her seven brothers are still seven wild
geese, and the Queen has found no trace of her first-born son. But the
Spae-Woman has had a dream, and the dream has revealed this to her: the
Son that Sheen lost is in the world, and if the maiden who will come to
love him, will give seven drops of her heart's blood, the Queen's seven
brothers will regain their human forms.

"So that is the Unique Tale," said the Old Woman of Beare. "If you ever
find out what went before it and what comes after it come back here and
tell it to me. But I don't think you'll get the rest of it," said she,
"seeing that the two of you weren't able to count the horns outside."
She went on talking and talking, Gilly and the King's Son hearing what
she said when she spoke in a sudden high voice, and not hearing when
she murmured on as if talking to the ashes or to the pot or to the
corncrake, the cuckoo or the swallow that were