by LJ Rivers
“Horses?” I asked, somewhat out of breath myself.
“Sounds like it.” His lips were a little swollen, tempting me to kiss them again.
“We should maybe see who it is?”
He gave a mock pout, stroking his hands over my hips. “We have to?”
“Grab some logs, Zorro, and I’ll see who it is.”
He released his hold on me, clearly with some reluctance, and I hopped down to go back into the yard. Two light brown horses were trotting up the road.
“Hey.” I waved.
One of the riders waved back, and the horses swung towards the stables. I went after them and caught up while the riders tied their horses to the hitching post.
“Hi there.” One of the men turned to me and extended his arm. “I’m Emrys Baker. That there is Tommos. We’re here for the pies.”
I frowned. They looked familiar. Where had I seen them before? Tommos stepped forward, extending his hand, his fringe falling like a curtain over his forehead. Mophead? I shook his hand. “Not driving today, are we?”
Emrys tilted his head at me. “We only use the van on rare occasions. This isn’t one of them. Have we met?”
“Ruby Morgan,” I said. “We helped you with your van in Pwllheli.”
Tommos crossed his arms. “That’s right. Thanks for that. Sorry we left in such a hurry, but your friend spooked us a little. We know a wolf when we see one, and we’re not exactly a great match.”
“Wolves tend to hunt cats,” Emrys said. “Not that they could take down these cats.”
Tommos gave Emrys a nudge with his elbow and snickered.
Cats? They didn’t look much like cats to me. Maybe they were lynx Shifters?
We started towards the house and met Brendan halfway. Introductions were made as we sauntered to the front door. The Shifters wrinkled their noses at Brendan, but didn’t say much.
“Llew,” Emrys shouted as we stepped into the hallway. “We’re here for the pies.”
Two hissing cats greeted us inside. Kit’s fur spiked over his arched back as he placed himself between me and the men.
“Almost ready,” my grandfather called from the kitchen.
Brendan gave me a look and carried the logs into the house. Bailey followed while the rest of us stayed in the hallway, including Kit, who kept swinging his paw out as if to tell the Shifters to keep their distance.
“So,” I said. “Summer solstice, huh?”
The men exchanged glances, and Tommos cleared his throat. “Yeah. Is he your boyfriend?” He gestured after Brendan.
“Sure is.”
“Donnal,” Emrys said between his teeth. His formerly dull eyes suddenly sparkled with an almost gold sheen.
Kit hissed again, and I scooped him up, petting him soothingly.
“Yes, and he’s great,” I said.
“Like lamb is great in stew.” Tommos gave a snorty laugh, displaying teeth that were too sharp for a normal human. He gave me the creeps.
Emrys slapped him over the head. “Tommos has a poor sense of humour.”
I nodded, as I didn’t get the joke. I did, however, understand that they didn’t approve of my choice of boyfriend. Not that I needed their approval. I sighed with relief as my grandfather entered the hallway with a stack of pies in his arms. “We’ve got apples and cherries,” he said.
Tommos licked his lips. “I think Nimue would approve. Smells divine.”
“Lili’s recipes never fail.”
Emrys inclined his head at Llewellyn. “We appreciate it. May Nimue wash your hands of what ails you and yours. We’ll take the pies from here.”
Llewellyn grabbed a large basket from a wardrobe in the hallway and stacked the pies neatly into it. “Would you mind waiting for a bit? I need to change.”
“You’re coming?” Emrys made a sound, like something between a purr and a quiet growl.
“Have I ever missed the solstice?” Llewellyn asked.
Tommos grimaced. “I thought you would stay here with your sick wife.”
“Lili is in good hands.” Llewellyn patted my back. “I’ll just be a moment.” He turned and went up the stairs.
I shifted on my feet, holding Kit close. “Why don’t you come inside and sit down?”
The men shook their heads at the same time. “We’ll wait for him by the horses and maybe saddle his while we’re at it. Don’t want to be late.”
“All right, then. Nice to formally meet you,” I said, hiding my relief. Something about the two men, whose feline alter egos I had yet to pinpoint, kept me on edge. They went back outside, and I let out a breath, happy to see them go.
“It’s all right,” I said to Kit. “They’re leaving.” I put him back down, and he looked up at me and meowed, motioning towards the kitchen as if wanting me to move away from the door.
I kicked off my shoes and placed them on the shoe rack, then followed Kit’s lead, halting in the doorway. What had Emrys said? ‘May Nimue wash your hands of what ails you and yours’. Where had I heard a similar phrase before?
My stomach lurched. Those were the words used by Leighton Ballard’s kidnappers. Nate Peace might have got a few words wrong, but it was too alike to ignore. Chills ran across my skin. Not many people would use a phrase that specific. It sounded like something only the people of Perllanafal would say. Had someone from this town kidnapped Ballard?
I stood on the balcony after my grandfather had left with the Bakers when Jen strolled into view, coming from the field.
“Hey, Red. All good?” she asked as she hopped up the stairs to my side.
“I’m not sure.”
She leaned on the railing next to me. “What’s up?”
“Llew went to the solstice with the Bakers. Emrys and Tommos. The ones with the van, remember?”
She nodded.
“They were also the ones we met in Pwllheli. One of them said something. It was the same phrase used by Leighton Ballard’s kidnappers.”
She studied her nails and rubbed some dirt off. “Huh.”
“Huh, indeed.” I put my chin in my hands, elbows resting on the railing. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
“You want to do some recon? I’ve got your back.”
“Nah, I’ll be fine on my own. I just wanted to wait for you before I left. The others might need some help with getting Lili to bed in a bit. Will you tell them I’ll be back soon? No idea what I’m looking for, though. It’s just a feeling.”
“Your gut tends to be right.” Jen bumped my shoulder. “I’ll stay, but do try not to torch anything.”
I grinned and stepped into the shadows.
After bouncing around for a while, I exited the shadows again and headed down a dirt road on the other side of town. The same road I had walked with Auberon a few weeks back. The familiar crackle of a fire sounded, and ashes danced in the air. I raised my eyes to the flames licking the sky. The bonfire had to be huge.
As I drew nearer, the commanding vibrato of the reeve’s voice cut through the sizzle of the flames. I approached the field and crouched behind one of the hay bales surrounding the gathering. The field was packed with people, at least four or five hundred of them. Some I had seen around town. They were all looking at the immense bonfire and the reeve, who stood on an elevated platform in front of them.
I couldn’t understand what the reeve was saying, but it was eerily reminiscent of Jarl Colburn’s sermons. Reeve Yeats had that same arresting tone of voice, and the crowd ate his every word, by the looks of them. I did, however, recognise the odd expression, along with some names. Nimue, Merlin, Gwyn Fanon. Magicals dotted the space like lanterns, glowing in all kinds of colours according to what they were. Some looked like normal humans, though almost half of the onlookers were in their shifted shape. Wolves dominated the scene, and I shut my mouth, suddenly afraid they would hear me breathe. In the frenzy of the fire, and with so many people around, I didn’t really worry, but my instinct told me I didn’t want to be caught snooping.
&nbs
p; On the edge of the gathering, by a row of tables filled with food and drinks, stood Rhys and Mari. They stood by themselves, away from the others. He had his bulky arms around the small Goblin, and she almost disappeared into his embrace, but I could still see her face. It was twisted in a horrified grimace and tears wet her cheeks.
I almost got up to go over there, then stopped myself. I didn’t know why it was so important not to be seen, but I decided to listen to my gut. Rhys was comforting Mari, and that would have to be enough.
Closer to the stage, surrounded by other Fae, stood my grandfather. I couldn’t see his face, but his pipe was lit and his attention was on the roaring fire ahead.
I stayed there for a bit longer while the reeve continued to talk. When it appeared the entire crowd was joining in with a prayer to Nimue, I decided I had stayed long enough. There wasn’t anything else for me to do there, and the whole event seemed wrong somehow. I had expected a celebration. What I found was … something else. And no sign of Ballard or the Bakers. Then again, as Shifters, I probably wouldn’t recognise the brothers.
Shaking myself, I ventured back into the shadows. I continued to dip in and out throughout town, but found nothing suspicious, no trace of the kidnapped Harvester, and no van. Eventually, I had to give up. My grandfather would be returning home, and I didn’t want to be missing in action when he got there. Besides, tomorrow was my mum’s Essencebearing, and I was determined to honour her memory.
Chapter Seventeen
The Morgana farm was thrumming with life, and a myriad of smells invaded my nostrils. I stepped down from the balcony and onto the field, where I stopped and inhaled deeply. It was hard to distinguish one smell from the other but besides the normal odours on a farm, there were hints of freshly baked loaves of bread and cakes, a variety of acidic and sweet fruits, the familiar touch of honey and roses, accompanied by the strong scents of herbs and spices.
A band had gathered behind the barn on a stage made of hay bales, completed with a row of two-by-fours on top for support. Their instruments included flutes and tin whistles, some pipe-like construction, a fiddle, and one immense harp. The other musicians lowered their instruments as a young Pixie sat by the harp. His bright blue hair brushed against his shoulders as his fingers began to move, and the harp resonated with a mellow brilliance. The young Pixie practically glowed in shades of violet when he began singing. I had no idea what the words meant, but his voice was clear and bright, while at the same time utterly enthralling, rendering the words meaningful by the way he delivered them.
Eventually, the rest of the band joined in, and I turned my attention to the assembly. It was more or less the same crowd I had witnessed last night, though there were more of them, and they seemed different. More cheerful, despite the occasion. Their traditions and ways of life were so different from the way Mum had raised me. After what I had learned about this town and how they looked down on my friends, I would have already left, but I didn’t wish to abandon my grandparents when I had only just got to know them. And this, right here, was why I had come. The Essencebearing was my grandparents’ final goodbye to Mum, and it was mine too. I had to move on, and this would hopefully help me do that. I wanted to celebrate her life today, not her passing. Once it was over, I would pack my friends up first thing in the morning, and get them out of this place. The crowd might look like a friendly bunch, standing where I was at the edge of the field, but I understood now why Dad could never have stayed here, and why Mum had left. This was no place for humans.
People had dressed in all kinds of colourful outfits, not a single black dot on any of their garments. Despite my weariness, that alone made me smile, and I decided I would make this day all about Mum and her memory. She always wore colour, and come to think of it, I couldn’t recall a time when she had worn black. However much she may have wanted to get away from this place, she would have enjoyed this. It was a feast, rather than a mournful and sad ceremony. I quite preferred this to the latter.
I smoothed out my skirt, and the soft fabric all but melted against my palms. I had gone all out, for once, and worn one of Mum’s bright green dresses with yellow embroidery along the hem and sleeves. It was tight-fitting down to my waist, then swung out in a loose cascade, brushing like waves against my feet when I moved. I’d decided to wear flats, even though Jen had wrinkled her nose at me and dangled a pair of gorgeous heels in front of my nose. After some convincing, she agreed that wearing heels on a farm might not be the best choice. I had allowed her to fix my hair, which always brought a smile to her face. Now, my red chaos was pinned to my head with what I was sure amounted to a thousand hairpins, allowing soft curls to spill around my head and frame my face. Not one pin was visible, and the arrangement looked effortless, though the amount of hairspray Jen had used would give me trouble in the shower tomorrow.
Tables and wooden benches cluttered the field behind the main house, and thousands of wildflowers decorated the open space. I spotted Kit scurrying between the bench legs. Bailey trotted after him, but couldn’t quite keep up and kept pausing between tables. A large arrangement of interwoven leaves and flowers, six feet tall and wide, supported by a bed of green and white moss, stood perpendicular in the middle of it all. The Avalonian trinity symbol.
It appeared the entire town had shown up, save for maybe the oldest of the population, and seeing them all together in one place made it seem as if there were a lot more of them than I had initially thought. A quick estimate brought me to somewhere between seven and eight hundred people. A few hundred more than last night.
Each person had a distinct light around them—an aura—marking them for what they were, Mags. Of one kind or the other. Some I knew well, like the wolves who seemed to be outnumbering the rest of the Mags by at least a hundred or more members. Reeve Yeats waved to me from where he stood next to Jen and a large male wolf Shifter I had yet to meet. I waved sheepishly back at them.
There were a number of other Shifters present, too, and they appeared to amount to over half of the attendees. I recognised a few Jumpers, four Time Turners—which made me shudder—maybe thirty Pixies and about as many Fae. There were fourteen Sorcerers, one of whom I remembered seeing in the hotel when I was here last. The Goblins stood out to me in shimmers of emerald-green, Mari among them, though she stood by a table of baked goodies, surrounded by Shifters instead of her kin. They accounted for the next largest group of Mags to the wolves. I estimated the Goblins to be close to eighty people. A silvery sheen surrounded another group of maybe twenty Mags, and it took me a moment to peg them as Banshees. Then there were the odd colours, which I didn’t know what they belonged to because I had never seen Mags like them before. Apart from the Time Turners, no group of Mags had fewer than twelve members, however. It would seem that every known and unknown Mag was accounted for, except one—the Phoenix. I wondered what these people would think if I told them I knew him … or her. Them?
The reeve broke away from the Hopkins boys, who now stood with Jen and the wolf I didn’t know, and approached me. “I wish your mam a safe passage, and for her essence to live forever in Nimue’s embrace,” he said, and presented his hand.
I hesitated and took it. “Thank you, Reeve Yeats.” I wasn’t sure what the social codes were for this kind of event and almost curtsied, but thought better of it. Instead of shaking my hand, however, the reeve turned it palm up and placed his other hand over mine. We stood like that for a few awkward seconds—at least to me—before he dipped his chin and let go.
“I do hope you’re finding our small town to be welcoming. It’s been a long time since we have had a visit from outsiders. Not counting the tourists, of course, but that’s not the same as one of our own coming to see us.”
“Oh, it’s lovely. A little different from what I’m used to, but—”
“Excellent. I’m happy to hear that.”
I pondered him for a moment. “Why is it that you sound so … British?”
His pointy eyebrows rose as his thin li
ps curved up. “Oh, that. Well, I’ve been travelling a lot in old Britannia throughout my life. More so than the average Perllanafal citizen. I suppose I acquired a taste for the language, and it helps when dealing with the official authorities. We might be a small, seemingly unimportant town, but we aren’t, I’m sorry to say, exempt from dealing with the authorities in the UK. And since we do not have phones or the internet, I find that it helps to meet people face-to-face. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Sure, I guess.”
Charlie and Brendan passed by us in my periphery, headed for Mari, and the reeve gave my friends a quick look, sweat gathering in the creases on his forehead.
“Are you planning to stay long?”
“We’re leaving tomorrow. My friends have work and stuff to get back to.” And I had an empty house full of memories.
“Good, good. Sooner rather than later might be advisable.”
I frowned. “How so?”
“I only mean that your human friends’ presence is making my citizens a little on edge. We value our privacy, and we don’t wish the world to know we’re here.” He made a grand gesture, indicating the land in every direction. “If we were to be discovered, the consequences would be catastrophic. I’m sure you understand.”
I understood better than he thought. If anyone knew this town was basically “Mag Central”, this place would go down in flames. “I do. My friends won’t tell anyone. They’ve kept my secret, and I trust them with my life.”
“But you’re their friend. We are not.” He patted his potbelly. “Anyway, I think I’ll go see what Mari has cooked up for us today. It smells divine.” He turned and sauntered off.
“Hey,” Brendan called as he and Charlie came my way again. He wrapped his arms around me and inhaled in the groove of my neck. “You smell good enough to eat.”
I ran my fingers through his soft hair and gave him a quick kiss. “What are you guys up to, then?”
“According to Mr Hopkins, a couple of guys have brought their van up by the front of the house, and it’s loaded with drinks.” Charlie shrugged. “We volunteered to help out.”