by LJ Rivers
He waved the butt of his knife at her. “You know about Riverdance?”
“Is that what you call it? There was a group of tourists down by the hotel a few years back, playing a fiddle and jumping around. Quite entertaining, but maybe not in the way they meant it to be.”
Brendan found his chair again. “I won’t mess up that memory then, Mrs Morgana. Trust me, you don’t want to see me Riverdancing. It looks like something completely different is about to happen.”
“Brendan!” I hoped Lili didn’t catch his reference.
But she had, and laughed again. “That’s exactly what I said to Llew! They looked like they were very much in need of relief, but the tai bach was occupied.”
The solstice celebrations were scheduled for “when the sun is over Pwlldefaid”, the hill east of Perllanafal, according to my grandfather. He and I sat on the patio, looking at the horses grazing down by the fence. The foal was moving around, curiously checking out the fence posts Brendan and my grandfather had replaced earlier. It ran back to its mother for some milk, then bounced to the next post. On the barn roof, Kit and Bailey lay sunbathing, splayed on the turf, their front paws tangled with each other.
“It was nice of Brendan to help out.” Llewellyn smacked on the end of his pipe. “Now this thing has gone out. Could you perhaps get a match for me? It’s on the—ah, that’s an option too, I suppose.” He stared at the flame on the tip of my finger, then leaned in to let me relight his pipe with it. As he puffed on it to increase the airflow, large cotton balls of smoke emerged, sailing away in the afternoon breeze. “I must say it’s fascinating, that magic mix of yours.”
“You don’t find it frightening?”
“I wouldn’t use that word, no. We don’t encourage blood mixing in Perllanafal. It’s not the way of the Avalonians.”
“Yeah, you mentioned ‘breaking’ a bloodline the other day? Wouldn’t the very first occurrence of someone else’s blood lead to such a break? It seems to me this kind of obsession with bloodlines has been the root of so many problems—wars, even—throughout history.”
He didn’t answer, which I hadn’t expected either.
“I know it’s the tradition here, and I don’t want to sound disrespectful. Besides, there already are mixed couples in Perllanafal.” I kept Rhys and Mari’s names out of it, but I might as well have said them, as we both knew who I was talking about.
He nodded at the wall behind me. “I have some very old books in there, texts that have been transcribed throughout the centuries, based on old symbols and folk tales from Avalon. They form the basis of our ways.”
“Your ways.” I tasted the word. “By that, you mean your laws, right?”
“You could say that. The point is that whenever magical blood is mixed, the lesser half gives way, meaning its powers no longer prevail in the child.”
“Not in my case.”
He took a deep drag of the pipe, containing the smoke for a long time. I wanted to tell him about nicotine and cancer, but knew it would make no difference to him. He let out a giant puff of smoke, dark as a rain cloud. With his right index finger, he sent three tiny force fields into the smoke, followed by a bigger one to encapsulate it all. He rotated his finger, and soon all the smoke was contained within the three orbs inside the biggest one. I had done a similar exercise with morning mist, but it never stayed in its foggy form for more than seconds.
“Our ways might not be right in your eyes, but for us, they create the very foundation of our society. We have kept our traditions for hundreds and hundreds of years, and they have served us well. We don’t have all the modern technology you have, but you won’t find anyone in Perllanafal who is unhappy for the lack of it.”
“But where do you draw the line, then? I mean, even your mechanical, horse-pulled sickle mower is modern compared to what your ancestors used five hundred years ago. And Rhys Wogan drives a Land Rover. Granted, it’s ancient in my eyes, but it’s still a car.”
He pushed the force fields further up in the air, and popped them, allowing the breeze to carry the smoke away. “If it’s useful for our farming, fishing, or other work, we might bring it into our homes. But we always discuss it. Even the plumbing in our houses had to be something the town agreed upon. We have meetings.”
“Led by the reeve, perhaps? We met him outside the Wogans’ yesterday.”
“Did you? Was he alone?” There was a slight twitch in the corner of his mouth.
“Yes, I think so. He left when we arrived. Quite hastily, in fact.”
Llewellyn chuckled. “That’s Gilroy Yeats for you. Constantly on the move. He’s an excellent reeve, though. Knows everything about everyone.”
“And that’s a good thing?”
“Absolutely. We don’t keep secrets from each other here, Ruby. That’s also something I think you outsiders could learn from us. I read about crimes all the time in the Chronicle. If everyone was honest, there would be no stealing. Or killings, for that matter.”
Outsiders. I was still an outsider to him, which I both understood and felt a little offended by. Still, his words had some merit to them, even if the world wasn’t quite as harsh as the Chronicle headlines made it out to be. “Oh, I wouldn’t know about the latter. There might be quite a few deaths spurred by people speaking a bit too honestly.”
“Ie, but that’s only when the truth contains secrets. Everything moves so fast out there.” He motioned with his head where the road led out of Perllanafal. “You look at the clock all the time. I’ve been to Pwllheli a few times, and it’s all stress and clocks and chaos. They only have about four thousand inhabitants; I can imagine the mayhem in larger cities.” He blew a thin line of smoke from the corner of his mouth. “How can a clock tell me when it’s time to move the sheep to another field? Or when my neighbour over the hill, Devon, should turn the grass? What is it inside a computer that knows when Rhys Wogan should pull his fishing net?”
I didn’t reply. Not because I couldn’t; there were several arguments to support the modern way of life. But I had grown to enjoy his voice. It was soothing, and something in it reminded me of Mum. They shared a certain twang in some words, like “here” and “agreed”. I guessed it might just be remnants of Mum’s Welsh accent, but still.
“I know you think we’re old fashioned, which we obviously are. But our way is ours, and we will never change it.”
“Is it because you think it’s similar to life on Avalon?”
He looked at the sky, squinting at the bright afternoon sun. “Not many here think we will ever return. They pray to Nimue, but I can see it in their eyes that they no longer believe. Not truly.”
“But you still believe, don’t you?”
“Ie,” he said, his voice trailing. “Ie.”
For a long time, none of us spoke. The sounds that made up the quietness I had started to get used to, permeated the air. A squeal of an eagle, the distant put-put of a boat, the rustling leaves from the small apple orchard behind the stables.
“Who was this Sorcerer, then? Your father.”
I flinched, feeling like I had awoken from yet another dream. “Mum said it was a mistake.” I didn’t feel like expanding on it.
“Mhm.”
“I think there might be a way to open the portal,” I said, eager to change the subject.
My grandfather sat up and leaned forward, taking his pipe from his mouth. “Go on.”
I leaned forward too, lowering my voice. “I’m not exactly sure how, yet, but I want to help you find out. If you’ll let me, that is.”
“As I said before, I think the key is connected to Morgana herself.”
“Her bloodline, yes. My bloodline.”
“Well, before Elaine had a Sorcerer put you in her belly, at least. I know you don’t like it, Ruby, but that is an issue for Lili Helene and me. I love that woman more than life itself, and I’m willing to do anything to save her from the illness.”
I sighed. “I wish you could believe me. I am a true Morgana.
It’s just the same as Mum being a mix of your blood and Lili’s. You’re not from the Morgana line, are you?” Suddenly, I feared he was. I hadn’t thought about the possibility of in-breeding before.
“No, I’m not. But a pure Fae can only have a child with another pure Fae, less the bloodline is tainted.”
I shook my head in despair. “But how do you know that? How can you be so sure? I know you don’t approve of modern technology, but you do know what a microscope is. I mean, you have a pair of binoculars yourself. I saw it on the windowsill in your study.”
“I have a couple of old telescopes, too,” he muttered. “And I’m aware of the magnifying capabilities of the microscope. That still doesn’t mean anything to us here in Perll—”
“I’m sorry, Llew. You’re my grandfather, and I don’t want to be rude, but you should get your head out of—” I managed to control myself at the last second. “Out of the sand. I’m devastated by the news of Lili’s illness, and like you, I would do anything to make it go away. ALS is sadly one of the diseases even modern medicine hasn’t figured out yet. But that’s the key word. Yet. They will, eventually. Not in time to save Lili, which breaks my heart.” I wiped a tear with the back of my hand. “My point is that I think you’ve got this bloodline and purity thing all wrong. If Mum is—was—a pure Morgana Fae, then that means she had nothing of you in her. Does that sound right? And before you respond, I can tell you it doesn’t. She had plenty of you in her. I even hear it in the way you speak.” Tears were streaming down my face, and I gave up wiping them. “And I might have some Sorcerer’s blood in my veins, but nothing will ever take away the fact that I also have the blood of Morgana in me. And it’s just as pure as the blood in Morgana’s own veins.”
I had no idea if the last part was true, not on a biological level. But I knew it was, all the same.
“That’s why I can do this.” I stood and raised my hand, pointing at a bucket of water by the well. I made it rise through the air, ten, twenty, thirty feet. With a mental snap, I let it drop to the ground, only to throw a force field around it just before it smashed into the dirt. I let go of the force field, keeping the bucket hovering a foot over the ground, then pulled it towards me. When it stopped, right in front of me, I tilted it slightly to one side. A thin stream of water poured into my hand, where it instantly vaporised with a hissing sound, the heat in my palm turning the water into steam. “And my healing powers match the strongest and purest Fae anywhere.”
Llewellyn’s head bobbed slowly up and down. A fine, grey line of smoke rose from his dying pipe. “You might be right, Ruby. I don’t know. All our teachings tell us about the importance of purity.”
“I get that.” I wanted to tell him how much that word made my skin crawl. The memories of what Jarl Colburn’s obsession with purity had done to Mags all over Britain would never leave me. “But I don’t think your interpretation of purity is right. Jen, for instance, is ‘only’ a half Shifter.” I airquoted the word. “But you will never find a stronger, faster, or more pure wolf than her. Her heart is pure, Grandfather. She is a pure Magical and a pure human. And I think that’s the right version of purity.”
“I don’t know, child. I simply don’t know. I want to believe you, but we see the signs from the world outside. The Harvesting industry alone is proof enough that we have made the right choice by keeping to ourselves.”
My eyes had stopped leaking, and I dried the remains of my tears. “That I won’t argue with. It’s a travesty, and one I’ve seen up close. Too close.”
If there was any doubt in my mind that my grandparents would never speak well of Dad, it vanished at the mention of the Harvesters. Had they known about his history, even if he had made a complete one-eighty and left the industry before he was a real part of it, they would most likely throw me and my friends out.
“What are you on about, then?” a fragile voice said. Charlie pushed Lili’s wheelchair out on the patio. “I would advise you to take half of Llew’s stories to heart and throw the rest to the wind. He likes to smear a thick layer of goat’s butter on his tales, you see.”
I made a quizzical face. “So you’re saying he only killed one dragon?”
“But it was a big one, I’ll tell you that much,” he said, stroking his wife’s hair. “And I used nothing but my hands.”
Chapter Sixteen
Charlie bit her lip and scribbled something in her notebook now and then, while surely memorising as much as she could at the same time. She had borrowed a stack of books from Llewellyn’s study and was sifting through them. It was nice of my grandfather to let her browse his books. I still wasn’t sure how he felt about having two humans in the house, but at least he acted fine with it, although he was clearly more fond of Jen.
Lili was watching Charlie by the kitchen table while Brendan fed the fire and Kit played catch with the dancing shadows from the fireplace. I wasn’t entirely sure where Jen was, but I wasn’t worried. She had wolves to run with here, and no need to hide what she was. That part had been a refreshing change. With no cameras and a town full of Magicals, I was free to be myself as well. To an extent.
“The sun will be over Pwlldefaid in not long.” Llewellyn sighed and stared past Bailey curled up on the windowsill at the still-burning sun outside.
“You really want to go, don’t you?” I grabbed the soap and a washcloth from the sink.
“I’ve attended every single solstice ever since my seventeenth year. It’s tradition. Not attending sends a message to the people here that they can no longer count on the Morganas. It’s not a good place to be. If a person isn’t useful to the community, then …” His voice trailed off, and he put the pot of flour into the cupboard. “But Lili needs me here.”
I touched his arm. “She’s not alone, though. We’re all here, Grandfather.” I gestured at the others in the room. “We’ll make sure Lili has a great evening in. You should go. I can see how much it means to you.”
He glanced at Lili, who was having a quiet conversation with Brendan at the table. She was laughing at something he’d said.
“Are you sure? She needs help with everything.” The sorrow in his voice made me want to squish him and tell him everything would be all right. But that would be a lie. I had no idea if Lili could ever heal from her illness, on this earth or any other.
“We’ll help her with whatever she needs, and Jen can carry her to bed when the time comes. If she’s not back by then, Brendan will help.”
Brendan looked up at us and gave my grandfather a decisive nod.
Llewellyn inserted his hands into a pair of rose-patterned oven mitts and went to the oven, taking out two more pies. There were already six of them cooling on the countertop.
“I suppose that would be fine, then. Thank you, Ruby.”
“Of course. We’re happy to help.”
“Llew.” Lili dipped her head, fixing her stare on the pies. “Did you remember to put the nutmeg in the apple pie?”
“And the ginger.” Llewellyn set the steaming hot pies down and went to give my grandmother a peck on her cheek. “You look lovely today, fy cariad.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “And the cherry pies, Llew?”
“Don’t worry, it will be almost as good as if you made them yourself. The Donnals ground the almonds for me, and I’ve added the required pinch of cinnamon.”
She nodded, thoughtful. “Guess I’ve become obsolete, then.”
My grandfather’s eyes narrowed, and he crouched by her wheelchair. “No, never that. You could never be obsolete, cariad.” He touched her lips briefly with his thumb. “Ruby and her friends will stay here with you tonight while I go to the celebrations. Would that be all right?”
“Sounds like a splendid idea.” Her hands shivered like autumn leaves as she reached for his cheek. He kissed her palm, and Lili sighed, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Llewellyn stayed where he was for another few heartbeats before he returned to his kitchen duty.
“You need me for anyth
ing else?” I wrung out the washcloth over the sink and hooked it to the wall.
“Not at the moment,” my grandfather said.
Charlie looked up from a gigantic book and eyed my handiwork. “The table looks clean enough to eat off. Who needs plates?”
“We do,” Llewellyn said.
“Maybe we should grab some more wood for the fire?” Brendan offered. “There’s only a few logs left here.”
Llewellyn put the last two pies in the oven. “I think that would be good, young man.”
Brendan gave me an inviting look, making my stomach somersault.
“I’ll join you, B,” I said.
We went into the hallway and slipped outside. The air was crisp, and the yard seemed quiet. Brendan took my hand and pulled me with him behind the shed where the logs were. His lips found mine as soon as we stood out of sight of the house.
“I’ve wanted to do this all day,” he murmured.
My fingers laced through his hair. “Me too.”
He sat me on top of the logs, and I wrapped my legs around him. It hadn’t felt right to be all over each other when my grandparents were around, but it felt right now. My hands slid over his firm arms and my fingers dug into his skin when his tongue licked my ear. He dipped one hand underneath my shirt on my back, the other behind my neck. The spicy scent that always clung to his skin was intoxicating, and I wanted to taste him. His mouth brushed over my collarbone, creating a ripple of desire down my chest.
I arched my back and gasped, jolts of pleasure running through me. Every nerve on my skin was tingling with delight. His body pressed against mine, and I ran a hand over his byzantine necklace, down his hard chest, and over the rolling muscles on his stomach. Our lips met again, and his tongue teased mine, warm and tasting of cinnamon. I closed my eyes, shivering in a moan.
Hoofs clapped against the ground somewhere nearby. Reluctantly, we broke the kiss and Brendan leaned his forehead against mine, his breath heavy.