Ruby Morgan Box Set: Books 6-10

by LJ Rivers

  “I’m happy for you, Dunc,” I said.

  And I meant it. He was a kind person, who had stumbled a few times in his life. His heart was in the right place, which he had proven many times. And by caring for Ilyana’s relatives, he proved it once more. I would miss him a lot.

  He spread his arms wide, and I accepted his invitation. He gave me a crushing hug, lifting my feet from the patio floor. “You’re a stellar friend, Ru. Cheers for having my back. Perhaps, one day, I’ll be able to return the favour.” He released me and angled for the door. “See you on the flip side, Morgan.”

  Then he was gone.

  I listened to Duncan’s car speed off, then hurried back inside. Pictures of Mum and Dad smiled at me from the walls, but I didn’t dare linger in fear I’d end up sobbing on the floor the rest of the day. I dreaded the coming days, when I would have to start on the list of things to organise. The thought of going through all her belongings sent my stomach spinning. The sanctuary was actually the easiest part, at least for now. If I were to have Hugo and Tabitha take over completely, I might have to get some legal assistance for it. That was something I might have to do, anyway. I had no idea how inheritance worked.

  “I can’t deal with this now,” I said. The emptiness of the house was deafening. Kit meowed, saving me from falling apart. I smiled at him, trying to include my eyes in the gesture. “We’ll handle all the hard stuff tomorrow, don’t you think? Just not now.”

  It would have to wait.

  Instead, I went into the kitchen and kneeled on the carpet, folding it back and feeling for the small latch in the floorboards. It was made so it was nigh on impossible to spot unless you knew where it was. I hadn’t even known about it until only a few weeks ago. After Auberon almost caught me reading William’s book, I’d decided I needed a safer place to hide things, and Mum had shown me the hidden storage space underneath the floor.

  Kit came to sit next to me, bobbing his head between me and the floor as if expecting a treat. I pulled on the latch, and three floorboards rose to reveal the built-in box below. With a sigh of relief, I reached for the book, then the chalice. Both were safe. I still had no clue what Auberon wanted with the chalice, and I wasn’t sure if he was even interested in the book since no one but me could currently read it. However, I had decided they were equally important to hide from my father. I closed my eyes for a moment, but couldn’t sense anything from the shadows, so I figured it would be OK to take the items out for a short while. I wouldn’t need them for long.

  I glanced at the multiple passports and the bag of cash. When Mum had first shown me the secret box, I’d frowned. I hadn’t understood what they needed it for. Dad had been a Harvester, at least trained to be one before he met Mum. When they had bolted for their lives, they had nothing. Afterwards, Dad wanted them to be prepared to run again if needed. Even after his death, Mum had continued the tradition of having new passports made, with aliases for both of us, without my knowing. I never asked, but had a suspicion she got help from Hugo and his Goblin network. Her concern wasn’t so much the Harvesters, however, but Auberon. It didn’t hurt to be prepared, I gathered. Life could be unpredictable.

  I closed the hatch, grabbed a pen and a Post-it note, and took the magical items with me outside. Kit weaved between my legs as I moved. The sun was sinking, and the last rays of the evening danced on the pond as I sat on the grass next to it with Kit in my lap. His big yellow eyes stared up at me.

  “I know, Kit. I miss her, too.”

  I opened the book to a page I had marked with a red ribbon. There were now plenty of ribbons sticking up between the pages since I’d first started reading the book, as I’d marked out passages I thought I’d want to read again.

  The lyrics for “Oh, Lady of Avalon” were written on one page, and on the opposite page was a description of the ritual Mum and I—mostly Mum—had performed down by the pond back in September. It wasn’t entirely the same as how we had performed it, but close enough. I hadn’t been surprised to find it in the book, but had found it odd that the two were side by side.

  “I’m still a wish short,” I said to the pond, to no response. Not that I was expecting Nimue—I still hadn’t managed to wrap my brain around her being my grandmother—to show up again. “You owe me one. I realise that wishing for people to return from the dead might be asking too much, but perhaps you could find Mum and take her back to Avalon. I think she’d like that.”

  I grabbed the Post-it note and the pen, and scribbled down my wish, asking Nimue to watch over Mum, wherever Magicals went after their death. Much as I had that time in September, I crunched it up and conjured a force field around it, then sent it forward to hover above the pond.

  And then I sang. By the second verse, tears were rolling down my cheeks yet again as I continued to sing with Mum’s voice echoing at the back of my mind. A choir of birds joined in as if they knew the song, which didn’t lessen the ache in my heart. I lowered the force field into the pond, and it vanished beneath the surface. Perhaps Nimue would get my message after all? I knew it was too much to hope for, but I let the small hope I had kindle all the same.

  Nothing happened, then Kit growled. Not a noisy growl, but a distant sound set deep in his throat. It was way too low for a kitten not even a year old. The chalice started glowing, and my eyes widened. The blue stone shifted shades and turned almost white in the glow.

  “Nimue,” I whispered. “Are you there?”

  The small gems embedded into the stone cast rays of red, green, and yellow, piercing through the iridescent light from the gemstone on the chalice. A faint trickle sounded as if someone was pouring liquid into a cup. I leaned forward and stared into the chalice, which to my surprise was slowly filling with bubbling water.

  Droplets rose from the pond as if raining from the ground up, defying gravity, and ripples formed on the surface. I held my breath, certain that Nimue had heard me after all.

  Movement in the trees caught my eye, and Kit started hissing. The ripples vanished as a fox leaped past me. It grabbed the stem of the chalice in its mouth, the light blinding me as it scurried off. I raised my hand to catch it, but couldn’t see. My mind was so muddled with sorrow and confusion that I couldn’t decide between one power or the other. Fire lit up in my palm, even though I had meant to use my force fields. Kit growled, loudly this time, and set off after the fox that now bounded back into the treeline. The light faded as I scrambled to my feet and sprinted after them.

  “Kit!” I called as a shiver prickled down my spine. The shadows moved in the treeline, and my father’s presence was undeniable.

  “Auberon,” I said through gritted teeth, but he didn’t show himself. Instead, his presence faded until I could no longer sense him.

  The book!

  I ran back to the pond where William’s book was still where I’d left it. Hurriedly, I picked it up and retreated to the treeline.

  Kit waltzed back out, carrying a good chunk of amber fur in his mouth.

  “Oh, you brave little warrior! Did you catch her?”

  The cat shook his head as if he understood, and a part of me thought that maybe he did. “You did your best. Good on you for getting a bite in.”

  He purred and lay the clump of fur at my feet.

  I lingered for a moment, staring into the ominous shadows between the trees. Gemma had been here with Auberon, but I wouldn’t find them. Not this day, anyway. But one day, I promised myself, I would catch her, and when I did, she would find no reprieve from me.

  Clutching the book to my chest, I frowned and started back to the house where I sat on the swing with Kit by my feet until the sun dropped below the treetops.

  I had lost the chalice. Stupid of me to take it out into the open, though it had worked. Or started to. A few moments more, and I was sure Nimue would have appeared in one form or another. But Gemma had got there first. Was there a reason Auberon didn’t want me to contact my grandmother again? Was that why he wanted the chalice? I pondered it for a while
, and when the moon replaced the sun in the sky, I had reached the conclusion that it didn’t quite fit. It might be a part of it, but for one reason or another, Auberon needed that chalice for something else. To achieve whatever goal he had. And I had handed it to him.

  I glanced at the other corner of the swing, and Mum suddenly materialised before me. She wasn’t real, but my memories conjured the vision of her, and she appeared as real to me as if she were actually there. She sat cross-legged on the swing, humming a song. Strawberry-blonde tresses flowed around her face in the gentle breeze. She smiled brightly, and my heart stilled for a breath, then another. She was mesmerising, had always been. Power surged around her in shimmering white, turning her skin luminescent as if she had stolen the light of the moon. I had seen her like this before, though in my memory, I hadn’t seen the air of strength I envisioned now. Her brilliant blue eyes caught my gaze, and she winked at me.

  The apparition repeated the words Mum had said to me on my last day home before moving to London. “Search your heart, darling, and stop analysing. Clear your mind and picture what you want in life.” Like she had then, she tilted her head at me. “It will come to you.”

  I inhaled the night air deeply into my lungs. “Thanks, Mum. I’ll make sure to hold on to the wonderful memories.”

  Then Mum repeated something else she had said. “She transcends worlds.” She had meant the Lady of the Lake. But if She could transcend worlds, and both Auberon and I came from her, then perhaps—?

  I stood abruptly, and Kit yowled as he rolled away from my feet.

  “Sorry,” I muttered.

  Was that it? Did Auberon think he had found a way back to Avalon? That was insane. Yet it fit. The words from William’s—or maybe I should start thinking of it as Willow’s book now—came to me.

  for all to gather, all to see

  the power of the trinity

  the holder of sacred blood and key

  shalt open the door of infinity

  Did the Phoenix, in the body of a seven-year-old boy named Flynn, think there was a way back to Avalon?

  Sacred blood and key.

  I dreaded the thought, but at the same time, I welcomed it. It made perfect sense. The blood of Morgana flowed in my veins. And so did the blood of Merlin.

  No, it was a crazy thought. I shook it off.

  The door of infinity.

  “Oh, Mum!” I whispered, and turned back to her, but the image of her had faded away. “I wish you were here to help me understand.”

  I wiped the fresh stream of tears from my cheeks when my phone started playing “You’re My Best Friend”. Kit jumped onto the swing, his back arching as he hissed at the phone in my pocket.

  “Relax, Kit. It’s just Charlie.”

  Kit cocked his head, but lay down to rest as the ringtone died when I answered my phone.

  “Hey, Char. What’s up?”

  “You’re not fudging going to believe this.”

  I did my best to conceal a sniffle. “Try me.”

  “So, I asked one of the ‘Astreas’ to do some digging,” she said, and I could hear the excitement in her voice.

  “She’s in love with ‘Astrea’,” said Jen in the background. “About time she found herself a real-life person.”

  “Mhm.” Ignoring Jen, I directed my questions at Charlie, though I knew Jen could hear me anyway. “What sort of digging? On Gemma? Because I’ve—”

  “No, not her. Still no sign of her, I’m afraid. But as I told you I would, I’ve been looking for your grandparents.”

  “Oh,” I said. I was about to tell her I’d seen Gemma, but it could wait.

  “I think I found them.”

  “You—you did?”

  “Llewellyn and Lili Helene Morgana. They were sure hard to find.”

  “But you don’t stop at hard.” I snickered.

  “No, ma’am. They seem to live in a secluded, almost Amish-like village. No internet, no mobiles, nothing.”

  Jen scoffed loudly. “Sounds like hell to me.”

  To me, however, it sounded familiar.

  “Anyway.” I could practically hear Charlie roll her eyes. “I fed what little ‘Astrea’ had found into a few of the databases at work. I mean, they’re Mags, after all.”

  I nodded, though she couldn’t see me, my mouth too dry to utter a syllable.

  “So, as I said, I think I found them. A small town in Wales.” She made some noises that might have been grunts. “Not sure I can pronounce it correctly, though.”

  I can.

  Charlie breathed into the phone, clearly struggling with the word. “It’s called … Perllanafal.”

  THANK YOU FOR READING!

  READ ON for a sneak peek of Acolytes of Nimue!

  Or pick up Book 7: Acolytes of Nimue now.

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  Book 7: Acolytes of Nimue

  Chapter One

  Kit slinked around the mound of boxes on the patio and came to rest by my crossed legs. He purred, and I briefly put my hand on his soft fur. The early morning was bathed in a bright glow, and the lawn was lush and green. The sweet smell of roses infused the air. It was the perfect summer day, except it was missing the brightest light of all. Mum. My eyes had dried up, but I suspected the ache in my heart would never fully subside. Losing her was like losing a vital part of my soul. This past year had been full of ups and downs between us, and I’d spent more time mad at her than not. It was something I would have to live with for the rest of my life. The only solace was that we had got a few weeks together at the end where our relationship had grown stronger, and I had come to admire her in a way I never had before. Not just as my mum, but as a strong and forceful woman—and at the same time kind, brave, and compassionate. And even funny. As a child, I would often cringe at her jokes, the way most kids feel embarrassed about their parents for no other reason than that they share your blood.

  A couple of drops fell from my wet hair onto the cardboard, so I tightened the hairband and squeezed a few more out. I had been up since first light. Running in the woods had made me feel better for a time, but returning to the empty house killed what little joy I’d found racing through the trees with the birds’ morning hymn as today’s choice of music.

  “At least I still have you,” I said to Kit. His wide, yellow eyes stared up at me, and he snuggled closer as if to comfort me. “You’re an odd one, you know that?” I reached into my pocket and retrieved the pendant from Covent Garden. “Mum bought you this before she … I almost forgot I had it.”

  The cat raised his head and exposed his neck to allow me to attach the pendant to his collar. The hummingbird almost seemed to flutter its wings inside the glass as Kit shook his head, showing off his newest accessory.

  “Oh, you like that, do you?” I attempted a smile and returned to the box in front of me. It was full of old photo albums and pictures. I picked up a dark blue album and opened it. ‘Ruby’s First Year’ was written in carefully constructed letters on the first page. Underneath was a picture of my mum and dad. He stood behind her and held his hands over her bulging belly, a huge grin on his face. Mum smiled brightly, too. I wondered who had taken the photo. Uncle Jamie, perhaps? Or maybe not. At their backs was a red-brick building, which looked like any typical apartment complex in London. So for all I knew, Hugo could have taken the picture. He was their doctor at the time. I ran my finger gently over Mum’s face, then turned to the next page before I started crying again.

  The next picture was one of Tabitha, holding me in her arms, much the same way as I had seen her hold Willow. Her hair was a nutmeg-brown back then, and her shamrock-green eyes appeared to look straight at me—the me of today, not the me in the picture. There was another picture of
Hugo and Tabitha standing beside Mum, where she lay in bed with me on her chest. The room was lit with candles, and every piece of furniture was one type of wood or another. The whole room looked like an illustration in “Dark Ages Interior Monthly”. It was hard to believe that their home used to be in what was now known as The Forge. A place which—at least until recently—functioned as a separate state for Mags.

  After the events leading up to Jarl Colburn’s assassination, The Forge would need time to rebuild. Both the Harvesting industry, the human citizens, and the Mag community had suffered, so it was hard to tell how things would eventually pan out. The only good that came of it was that the riots and attacks had ceased after the Jubilee Gardens Massacre. Only a week later, both sides had agreed on a truce, and the next prime minister—Millicent Glover, by all accounts—had promised to put forth legislation to give humans and Mags equal rights on an unprecedented level. I had caught Glover’s speech as I got out of the shower. She also condemned the Harvesting industry, and—according to Charlie—Glover and the current prime minister had given Mag-Ops the task of shutting down the Harvesting facilities in Britain. Anyone caught manufacturing or dealing Magical blood would be severely punished. I had no illusions that the industry would cease to exist anytime soon, but it had taken a massive blow. Charlie was having a field day in her new job as an intern at Mag-Ops.

  A shiver danced through my bones, and the surrounding shadows stirred. I placed a hand on Kit again and narrowed my gaze at the darkness.

  He was here, watching me.

  I gritted my teeth and ignored him. Auberon wasn’t about to change his ways, but he wouldn’t hurt me. Not physically, at least. Even though he had taken the chalice from me, I did steal it from him first, so I couldn’t really be mad at him for that. Not that there wasn’t enough to blame him for as it was. What concerned me, however, was that Gemma was with him. Did he know she was the one who pushed Mum? The one who killed her. He was there when it happened, so he probably did. Teaming up with Gemma was just another betrayal. If he believed there was any chance of reconciliation between the two of us, he would leave Gemma at the curb for Jen to find. The thought darkened my mind. Jen wanted revenge on the fox, and I had wanted that too. But I didn’t want to kill again, and ending Gemma made us no better than her. Incarcerating her was a different matter. I wouldn’t mind locking her up and throwing away the key.