Ruby Morgan Box Set: Books 6-10

by LJ Rivers

  A thought hit me. How good was a bear’s hearing? Could he have heard what I whispered to Charlie before, or had the old car made so much noise it was impossible?

  “It must be a dream living here,” Charlie said. “I mean, to have this as your everyday surroundings. This must be where God got the inspiration for the Garden of Eden.”

  The car wobbled again as Rhys started laughing. “Well, it looks fine and dandy now, but you should see it when the north-western gales sink their teeth into the area.” He pointed to a hill just beneath the burning sun. “See that house on the hill over there?”

  Both Charlie and I leaned forward, shielding our eyes from the glare with our hands. “Where?” Charlie asked.

  “Right next to the sheep. The small, grey and blue cottage.”

  Charlie leaned even further, her face right into the windscreen now. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, I can’t see it.”

  “I know, right?” the old bear guffawed. “The wind ripped it off the ground last autumn. Tore the boarding apart, shuffled it and laid it out in the field as my Mari does with her solitaire on the kitchen table.”

  The car was shaking forcefully now, in rhythm with the bear’s laughing fit. “Oh, you should see your faces!”

  Charlie slapped the dashboard and threw herself back in the seat, almost knocking me over to Rhys’ side. “You got me going, there.” She snickered. “I couldn’t for the life of me see the house. Started wondering if I was going insane. Or maybe you were.”

  Rhys roared with amusement once more. He nudged me, which, coming from him, was more of a heavy push. “This Donnal of yours, Ruby. I like her. Doniol, in fact.” He wiggled his bushy eyebrows to see if I got the pun.

  I didn’t, but smiled anyway, promising myself to check my Welsh dictionary later. Charlie had had the foresight to get me to download it while we still had mobile phone coverage. I fished my phone out of my pocket and checked it. There was no signal, but I noticed a small icon on the status bar. I must have missed the message earlier, maybe as far back as when I was on the train.

  I’ll arrive in Pwllheli (love the name!) Friday at 5:13 pm. Well, that’s the schedule, anyway. Hope you’re hanging in there, Ruby Ruby. Luv ya! B

  Without reception, I couldn’t reply to Brendan. Crap!

  “Don’t see how you can spend so much time on those,” Rhys said.

  “It’s pretty sad, really,” I replied, pocketing the phone without looking for the dictionary. “The whole world depends on them now, but sometimes I wish they didn’t exist at all.”

  “I tried one once, but I couldn’t see anything on the tiny screen. And these clubs,” he held his hand up and wiggled his fingers, “were utterly useless on those small buttons. Nah, I think it’s better to talk to a person, face to face.”

  Although I agreed with his view on communications, right then and there I was thrilled to have my iPhone tell me I would see Brendan tomorrow night. And I was happy, albeit in the saddest time of my life, that he would be here with me for Mum’s Essencebearing.

  “Is there any chance you could pick up my boyfriend tomorrow, Rhys? Same time and place. I’ll pay for the gas and inconvenience, of course.”

  He scoffed. “Absolutely not.”

  “Oh.” I hadn’t been prepared for such a harsh refusal. “Is there a taxi service in Perll—?”

  “I would never accept money for helping you, young Morgana. It will be my pleser.”

  I exhaled, and my shoulders dropped two inches. “Thank you so much, Rhys. It means a lot to me that he can be here this weekend.”

  “Must be special, this lad, seeing how he makes you so emotional. What is he?”

  “Irish,” I said. “And he’s trying to get on the Olympic team. Fencing.”

  “Huh?” Coming from a bear Shifter, it came out as more of a woof. “Fencing? Like, with swords and all?”

  “Here.” Charlie showed him her phone.

  He shifted his eyed between it and the road. On the screen was one of Brendan’s action shots from the training in France. It showed him in his white fencing suit, with the visor pulled down to protect his face. He was doing a lunge towards his opponent and aiming for a “high inside” attack. It was my go-to move when we practised together. Seeing the picture of Brendan, one I had studied closely many times, I could tell I was light-years away from executing the attack like him.

  “That’s not fencing.” Rhys blew a huff of air from his nose. He returned his gaze to the road, where a sign told us we had left the A499 and were getting close to a town called Mynytho. “Looks like a sewing needle, not a sword. And why is he dressed in his night suit?”

  That made me chuckle, but before I could defend my man’s honour, Charlie stepped in. “It’s the required uniform, but I get your point. And between you and me, it’s really more like dancing than actual fighting.”

  “Hey, I’m right here.” I punched her arm.

  A motorbike blew past us, its engine buzzing like an angry wasp. Seconds later, its brake lights flared red, and thick, grey smoke oozed from the locked tyres. As the bike came to a halt, the driver threw his hands in the air. Rhys stepped carefully on the brake as we too approached the herd of sheep crossing the road. The biker revved the engine, causing the sheep to jump. Kit came out from his hiding place under the seat and repositioned himself on my lap, arching his back in an aggressive stance. My loyal protector, I thought, and petted him.

  “Ei gymryd yn hawdd,” Rhys shouted to the biker.

  Take it easy, if my sparingly stocked library of Welsh phrases was correct.

  The biker turned, his black visor reflecting the three of us looking at him. He revved the engine louder in response. Rhys put the Land Rover in neutral, pulled the hand brake, and hopped out. The biker turned off the engine of his Suzuki, and stepped off it, seemingly happy to confront the old fisherman.

  “Move over,” I whispered to Charlie. “I’ve got to help him.” I had already called on my force field power and could feel two tiny orbs pulsating in my palms.

  “No need,” Charlie said. “Look.”

  I turned back just in time to see a sixty-something Welsh fisherman, albeit a Magical version of one, carry a motorbike under his left arm while holding its driver straight out in the air with the other. Sometimes the most down-to-earth displays of magic were the most fascinating. I doubted the bike rider felt the same as he flew over the hedge. Rhys dumped the Suzuki in the ditch and padded back to the car. He nodded at the farmer standing behind his sheep.

  “People are always in a hurry,” the bear said as he sat back behind the wheel. “What’s the point?”

  All I could muster was a shrug, as any attempt to speak would be drowned in laughter.

  The Land Rover sputtered back to life, and soon we were up to twenty-five mph again. Charlie held her hand out the window and belted out the chorus to “Born to be Wild”. I shook my head in mock disgust, while Rhys took a sharp left by ‘Sarn Potteries’. The clock in the upper right corner told me we couldn’t be more than ten minutes from Perllanafal.

  More fields and greenery coloured the world, and emotions ricocheted inside me in anticipation of there we were going. “I wonder where Jen is.”

  “She’s been close for a while,” said Rhys, sniffing the air. “And she’s found something.”

  Before I could ask what he meant, a white blur crossed the road only five yards in front of us. The wolf I had learned to love like a sister turned and trotted next to the Land Rover, before jumping onto the back. A lifeless, grey and brown lump dangled from her mouth. I had never seen her catch prey before, much less eat it. If that was what she was planning, I had no desire to watch.

  Rhys was still sniffing the air, almost giddy in his seat.

  “Do you … do you go hunting, too?” I asked.

  “Not anymore,” the old bear replied. “I’ve got my fishing, and well, bears love fish.” He drew a long breath through his nose. “But then again, I was never quick enough to catch ysgyfa
rnogod. I mean hares, sori.”

  “Then you’re in luck,” Jen said, once again hanging upside down, her hair blowing in the wind, already in her human skin and fully dressed. “Brought you one, if you want it.”

  Kit gave a welcoming meow, and Jen gave a yip in return. They even had their own language, when, really, the cat should fear for his life in the presence of a wolf.

  “Diolch, cenau,” said Rhys.

  “I hope that means what I think it does.”

  “It means thank you, young pup.”

  Jen let out a laugh. “I love it. And I love this country!”

  She climbed back on the platform. She had shown me a couple of videos on her phone, depicting how she had become increasingly faster with the new outfits. The fabric and some ingenious buttoning systems made it far cheaper to shift, and to put the still intact clothes on again after shifting back.

  Charlie gasped.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “What is it? I’ll tell you, Ruby. It’s heaven!”

  She climbed halfway out the window and sat on the edge. Behind her, Jen was back to her surfing practice. Rhys was smiling from ear to ear, and somehow I thought it was more because of Charlie’s reaction to seeing Perllanafal than the prospect of having hare for supper. I could have been wrong.

  But when I looked out the front window, all doubt was washed away as we rolled down a steep hill, one I couldn’t remember from when I was here with Auberon. No wonder, as my mind was elsewhere at the time. Now, the magnificent panorama unveiled itself in all its glory. The sun hung low over the horizon to our right, the west, I reckoned, tinting the landscape in a warm orange hue. The blue ocean was freckled with tiny, white dots on the waves. Fields of green filled the area, with a yellow line dividing land and sea. Perllanafal beach, where I had sat with my father only a month earlier, listening to him telling me about his mother, the Lady of the Lake.

  My grandmother. My other grandmother.

  The grey and red roofs of the small town came into view as we traversed further down the hill, Rhys keeping his foot heavily on the brake.

  “It’s gorgeous,” I agreed.

  In a field to our left, some more sheep were grazing, their thick, white wool catching the early evening sunlight. Kit jumped back on the dashboard. I wondered if he was as impressed by the vista as I was. Somehow, I thought he might be, although being a cat, he would probably never allow anyone to know he cared.

  But I did.

  “I’m looking forward to meeting Mari again,” I said.

  “She’ll be thrilled when I tell her our Ruby is back.”

  Our Ruby. I liked that. During my brief stay here a month back, I had learned to appreciate the odd Mag couple. I would gladly be known to them as their Ruby. My heart was racing for another reason as well.

  In a few moments, I would meet the grandparents I had thought didn’t want anything to do with me. Now, I was about to visit them in the town where my mum grew up. The thought of coming back to her birthplace filled me with so many mixed emotions, I feared I would explode.

  “There’s Bardsey Island.” Rhys pointed to the waves.

  I gathered myself enough to look. Far out to the south, a small piece of rock protruded from the white-speckled sea.

  “That’s where you and your father were?” Charlie asked.

  “Ie,” Rhys replied. “The old Sorcerer shot a flare in the sky.”

  “Wait, what did you say?” Had he known about Auberon, after all?

  “An old fisherman knows how to tell a rescue flare from a Sorcerer’s fireball,” he said. “We’ve got a few of them around. Reckon he wasn’t your father, then.”

  I hid my relief and was instead about to ask if he meant Sorcerers or rescue flares, but something told me he could have been talking about either. This town was full of Mags and plenty of fishermen, too.

  “Right, here we are.” He slowed the car to a halt. “Would you get the gate, Wolf-girl?”

  “Bien sûr,” Wolf-girl replied and jumped down.

  She swung the old wooden gate open and bowed as Rhys manoeuvred the Land Rover onto the narrow road. The car leaned heavily to the right as the road hadn’t been adjusted to account for the sloping terrain. Kit extended his claws to avoid sliding on the dashboard.

  After a couple of minutes, the ground levelled out, and the Morgana farm appeared, almost magically, before my eyes.

  Chapter Eight

  Kit jumped out of Rhys’ car ahead of me. I followed, only to remain fixed to the spot when my feet touched the ground. I soaked it all in. My grandparents lived on a quaint farm, and though I had pictured it in my mind, reality didn’t come close. The white shutters and windowsills on the stone house were pristine. The large stones had been painted in a gentle, white colour, like the sheep in the fields surrounding us. Beyond the house to the right stood a modest stable and a barn, also painted white, but with timber frames, creating a pattern of squares on the walls. Both featured turf roofs, cut evenly and maintained with the utmost care, just like the rest of the place. Two caramel-brown horses and a foal grazed in a paddock next to the stable. The foal whinnied at its mother, who obliged him by moving so the foal could get access to her milk. Mr Durham’s farm was maybe twice as big as this one, though infinitely less charming. Not that I would ever tell him that.

  The scents of hay and earth lay thick in the air. It fused with the sweetness of the roses surrounding the main house, laced with an unmistakable hint of honey. It smelled like home—like Mum.

  “Ready?” Charlie asked in a hushed voice.

  I shook myself. I had been so excited to come here, but now, as I stood on my grandparents’ land, I wasn’t sure I could handle it. I gulped and licked my lips. Just standing outside made memories of Mum flood my mind, and they tore at my heart. She had left this place behind a long time ago, but part of her was undeniably imprinted on this land. Who knew what going inside her childhood home would be like when simply looking at it strangled my throat.

  Well, Ru, you won’t know until you try.

  A man opened the door to the elevated patio in front of the main house. Between the greying strands, his chin-length hair was the same shade as Mum’s had been. It was wavy and thick, billowing gently in the breeze underneath a cloth cap. It resembled a sixpence, only more generous in size. He folded his blue farmer’s jacket to the side and tucked his thumbs under his braces. Then he caught my gaze, recognition sparkling in the depths of his eyes. He radiated magic, and my power sang with familiarity as the surges of energy melded with one another in the air. The heaviness I’d felt moments before fled. His bright blue eyes stared into mine and provided me with the courage to move.

  “Ruby, fy wyres!” He opened his arms as I tackled the five stone steps to the patio and fell into his embrace. Of all the hugs I had received lately, this topped every single one. Kit sniffed his shoes as if he were a dog, then decided to park himself on top of Llewellyn’s foot.

  “I would have recognised you anywhere,” Llewellyn, my grandfather, said. He folded his hands on my shoulders and surveyed my face. “As stunning as any Morgana before you. And you have your mam-gu’s hair.” He chortled heartily and lowered his voice. “At least as it was when she was young.”

  “Thank you for inviting me,” I said.

  “Of course. You has always been welcome. I only wish the circumstances were different.”

  “Me too.”

  Llewellyn crouched for a moment to scratch Kit behind his ear. The cat purred with delight as my grandfather tilted his head to look past me. “Who are you with?”

  “Oh, sorry. I hope it’s OK that I invited some friends. They knew Mum, and I thought they should be here for the memorial. I mean, the Hanfod Chario. I would have asked, but there was no time to post a letter and wait for a reply.” I was rambling, I knew that, but I just couldn’t help myself.

  He nodded thoughtfully and straightened, to Kit’s audible dismay. “Hush, now, feline,” Llewellyn said, and Kit ob
ediently quieted. Huh. “The wolf may be more comfortable with the Hopkins. Vaughn is the alpha of all Gwyn Tala’s children of Perllanafal. If your friend does not like the idea, though, we have plenty of room, and she is welcome to stay.”

  Gwyn Tala. The mother of all wolves.

  “Her name is Jen,” I said. “My other friend over there is Charlie … and I sort of invited my boyfriend too. Oh, and that,” I pointed to the cat, who had rolled onto his back to expose his furry, white belly, “is Kit. Rhys agreed to pick Brendan up when he arrives tomorrow evening. He couldn’t get away until the weekend.”

  “The cat is most welcome. We happen to have one much like it, though our Bailey has a great number of years on your Kit. And your human friend can stay, too. No bother.” He wrinkled his aquiline nose. “And this Brendan, is he a Fae, as well?”

  There it was, the entire reason why Mum and my grandparents had parted ways. She fell in love with a human and even had the nerve to have a child with him—me. And now I had foolishly invited my own very human boyfriend to come here, only to be turned away at the door. I couldn’t even ring him to let him know he wasn’t welcome.

  “Uhm, no,” I said. “He’s as human as they come.”

  “I see. Luckily, we have plenty of spare rooms.”

  I broke into a grin. “They can all stay?”

  “How could I refuse?” He gave me a skewed smile, and a dimple formed on his left cheek. “They have come all this way, and I don’t intend to turn away anyone who wishes to say their final goodbyes to my annwyl daughter. Yes, they may all stay.”

  I waved for the girls to approach, a little surprised they hadn’t come up to the patio already. Then again, they were chatting with Rhys, no doubt deliberately allowing me a private moment with my grandfather. What an odd thing, to have a grandfather. I’d never known any family outside of my parents, yet it felt as if I’d known him all my life.