by LJ Rivers
“There you are, cutie. Bet you’re loving it here, aren’t you?”
He purred and snuggled closer.
“So, you found your friends,” a voice said behind us. “Mari said you went looking for them.” Llewellyn stood outside the stable, holding a hayfork. He wasn’t smiling, but he didn’t sound annoyed.
The sound of an engine sputtering to life muted my hello. Rhys leaned out. “Going to get some stuff from the boat. Old Mêl isn’t feeling well.” He slapped the dashboard. “Do you mind me working on her here, Llew?”
My grandfather raised his hayfork in response. “Not at all, hen ffrind. Will you be back for tea, you think?”
“Ie.”
As Rhys drove off, Llewellyn turned to Brendan. “Right, you think you could lend me a hand, then, Brandon?”
Brendan gave me a quick shake of his head when I was about to correct my grandfather. “With pleasure. We’ve already missed our train, so I’ve got plenty of time.” He joined Llewellyn, and they disappeared inside the stable.
“I think we’re in the clear so far,” Charlie whispered. “Travers told me to get out of Dodge if I couldn’t find a safe place. For now, I’m opting for the Morgana farm. I’ll give him a ring again and have him phone the Pwllheli coppers about Ballard.”
Lili coughed from the patio. It sounded more like a dying mouse. “Perhaps you girls could prepare tea?”
Charlie jumped the two steps. “Absolutely. I just love your old cookbooks.”
While Charlie went on about one of Lili’s recipes, I pulled Mari aside. “I think you and Rhys should stay here tonight. Trust me,” I whispered.
She looked at me, puzzled at first, before she seemed to comprehend the urgency in my suggestion.
She turned to Lili. “I’ll help the young ones. If it’s all right with you, Lili, I’ll stay until morning. Maybe Rhys, too?”
“Diolch, annwyl. It’s always good to have you here in the mornings.”
The women went in the kitchen while the men worked in the stable. Maybe this wasn’t a Stephen King novel after all, but something more Dickensian.
Time might not have been of the utmost importance to the old-fashioned lifestyle of the Perllanafals, and I liked the idea of not being bound by clocks and phone screens. In theory. As we sat around the dining table and enjoyed leftovers from the abundance of food last night, I caught myself peeking at my Fitbit several times. Charlie hadn’t heard anything from Travers since this morning. She said we would just have to wait and see.
3.58 pm.
4.07 pm.
4.11 pm.
“Is everything all right, Guinevere?” Lili asked. “You keep looking at your stomach.”
“Hm? Oh, sorry. One of many bad habits of life in a big city, I guess.” I showed her my wrist and raised my shoulders apologetically.
“Llew has a clock, although not one like that. I don’t think you have used it for a long time, have you?”
My grandfather had just taken a big bite of a turkey leg and held his hand up while he chewed and swallowed. “I wind it up every so often, but then I forget about it for a week or two. I like the ticking of it when I read, though.”
Looking at him now, I couldn’t wrap my head around how someone as sweet as him would condone the horrific acts of this town. I wanted to say something, but all I could do was sit there and talk pleasantries. I didn’t know what to say, and if I asked, I was afraid the answer would be something I couldn’t live with. Having just found my grandparents, I didn’t want to lose them so soon.
He took a swig from his lemonade glass. “So, Ruby. Your father said he is a professor at your university, but that they’re not aware of who he is?”
I wasn’t prepared for the sudden change of subject. So far, we had been talking about the weather, how Brendan—Llewellyn apologised for the misnomer when I said his name—had helped him fix the gate to one of the box stalls, Mari’s worries about how little Charlie and I ate, and other, safe topics. And I had been happy with all of them.
“My father has been a lot of things, one of which is an imposter at White Willow.”
Lili slurped some leek soup from her spoon. Her hand was shaking so much that half the contents spilt on her plate. “Imposter? What do you mean?”
“He has been moving in and out of his prison ever since the Lady Morgana put him there, and every time he has visited Earth, he has posed as someone else. Granted, for his position as a history lecturer at uni, he holds a lot of the required knowledge. No wonder, as he’s witnessed half the curriculum first hand.”
Llewellyn guffawed. “That’s doniol.”
That was it! I knew I had heard that word before, when Rhys called Charlie doniol—funny—on the way from Pwllheli on Thursday. And I could certainly agree to Charlie being funny. My father, posing as a professor, not so much.
“So, you spoke with him yesterday?” I asked.
He sat up straight. “Ie. At length.” The pride in his voice was apparent. Lili reached her trembling hand out to pat him on his arm. “He sat here, in our kitchen, for quite some time.”
“He did?” It dawned on me. “He wanted to check on me,” I muttered.
“Not only that. He carried you to bed himself. Said you’d had too much to drink. The prince was worried about his daughter.”
“And he was very interested in Llew’s study. Looked at the books at length.” There was a dignified lilt in Lili’s words, no doubt spurred by my famous father’s visit.
Jen stood and dropped her fork on her plate with a clank. “Shh!”
“Jen!” Charlie said.
Jen held her hand up. “Hold on.” White fur protruded from her ears and they changed shape for a few seconds. She moulded them back to their human form. “Wolves,” she said. “I’ll be back.”
She went to the balcony door, pulling at the buttons on her clothes. As she stepped outside, she dropped her clothes and changed into her white, furry alter ego.
Brendan leaned past me, pretending to grab another slice of spiced bread, his mouth close to my ear. “This could be trouble. Those wolf boys might know about the panthers.”
I stretched. “I’m stuffed. At least I got to taste some of the food from the townspeople, even if it was a day late. Think I need some air.” Excusing myself, I went to the balcony door. “Don’t worry, Charlie. I’ll be right back and do the dishes with you.”
Unless I have to fight a pack of wolves first.
As I stepped down from the balcony, three wolves appeared. At first, I didn’t understand, as Jen was strutting between the others. To her left, a copper-coloured wolf, half a foot taller than Jen, trotted towards me. On the other side was a grey and black wolf, considerably smaller.
“Erica?”
Her tail wiggled from side to side as she saw me.
The three wolves were fifty yards away when they shifted, with such perfect synchronisation that any dance teacher would have been in awe. Erica and Jack stood naked by Jen’s side, both with a black strap across their chests. It took them less than thirty seconds to put on their clothes, hidden in small compartments on the straps.
“I’m so getting one of those,” Jen said, as she came up to the balcony, stark naked. She bent down to pick up her own clothes, and by the time her pack joined us, she too was fully clothed.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Erica?” Charlie said behind me.
“I sensed something was wrong,” said Erica.
Last I saw her was just after Mum died. She was a former barmaid at the Blacksmith’s Avalon Club in The Forge. She had lost most of her family in the bombings, and had, together with Jack, helped us take down Blackie and his gang. And they were Jen’s first pack members.
“Besides, London is a mess, so we figured we’d go for a little holiday.” She batted her dark eyelashes at me and ran her fingers through her raven-black tresses. “Nice to see you again, Ruby.”
“You—” I coughed. “You too.” I felt a fool for b
lushing when she spoke to me. She had flirted with me when we met for the first time in the club, and although I hadn’t said it outright, I hoped she understood that I wasn’t interested in her that way. But there was something about her that I liked. As if on cue, Brendan appeared beside me, folding his arm around my waist. Erica gave me a wry smile and a microscopic ‘oh well’ shrug.
Jack turned and waved his arm at the field. “What a lovely place. It’s your grandparents’ farm, right?” He sniffed the air. “Sheep, horses, chickens. This is heaven!”
“We don’t touch the farm animals,” Jen said. “And there’s no need to. The woods are stuffed with deer, rabbits and squirrels. Trust me, it’s wild.”
“More guests?” my grandfather said from the door. “And who might you be?”
Jen stepped in front of Erica and Jack. “These are members of my pack, Llewellyn. Erica and Jack. They will stay outside with me and will not require food or beds.”
Llewellyn chuckled. “No, no, no, I didn’t mean it like that. You are more than welcome in our home, though I suspect you’ll be more comfortable outside.”
“Nice to meet you, sir,” Jack said. “I was just admiring your farm and the surroundings. Erica and I came through the woods over the ridge. We don’t have this kind of air in London.”
“I wouldn’t think so. Well, I have things to tend to, so if you’ll excuse me?”
“Anything you need help with, Llew?” Brendan said. “Might be an idea to utilise all the extra man—and girl—power while we’re here.”
Llewellyn tilted his head. “Good thinking, young Donnal. Jack, was it?”
The Shifter stepped forward. “Happy to help, sir.”
“No sirs here, llanc. Name’s Llewellyn, but you may call me Llew.”
Rhys, who had been upside down in the Land Rover’s engine since he returned from Pwllheli—minus one Harvester—joined Llewellyn, Brendan, and Jack, and they headed down to the gate. Llewellyn said he had planned to replace the whole thing with something sturdier and stronger. I figured a bear, a wolf, and an Olympic athlete might be just what he needed to get the job done.
Jen, Charlie, Erica and I spent the rest of the day cleaning the house. There had been no mention of Leighton Ballard or the decade-long tradition of sacrificial lambs. It would have to be addressed at some point. I just wasn’t ready.
Lili shed more than one tear while constantly reminding us how grateful she was for the help.
“It might look like we’re doing a lot of work,” I said at one point. “But you’ve kept the house in great shape, so there’s really nothing to it.”
We both knew I was lying. She might have kept it spotless before, but neither she nor Llewellyn had the health to maintain more than a basic level of cleanliness. It would have been tough enough with a brand-new flat in London, with smooth, lacquered surfaces and lots of unfurnished spaces, maybe a robot vacuum cleaner to boost. The old Morgana farmhouse, however, had almost no ninety-degree angles, and every surface was rough and wooden. Lili’s scouring pads and brushes got a heavy beating that afternoon, as the cleaning squad went to work.
My Fitbit even clocked my average heart rate at seventy-eight per cent.
We finished the day setting the table with more leftovers and slumped down on the chairs just as the men came back. As it turned out, Llewellyn, the foreman, had made his crew not only build a new gate but also chop enough wood for the next winter.
“Not that I think we’ll need it, but you never know.” My grandfather gave me an intent look.
“Better safe than sorry,” I said, trying not to give him any more hope.
But I wanted to. Because of what Charlie had said at the Baker boys’ farm. We hadn’t had a chance to talk more about it, and although I was far from convinced the portal to Avalon could in fact be opened again, her words had ignited something inside me. The same spark my grandfather had.
Hope.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The rooster crowed for the third time, as if I had hit its snooze-button. But I was already awake, fully clothed in my running gear. Outside my window, Llewellyn was crossing the yard back to the house, a basket of eggs in his hands. There was a certain bounce in his steps, one that hadn’t been there only a few days ago when I first stepped out of Rhys’ car.
So this was what hope looked like to him.
I tiptoed into the hallway and opened the door to Brendan’s room, which was the one next to mine. It was hard not to invite him to stay in mine, but I didn’t want to upset my grandparents.
“Are you awake?” I whispered.
“Sure, come in.”
I did. Brendan peered out from under his duvet, one eye open. “I could wring the neck of that coileach outside. What time is it?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but the rooster underlined Brendan’s words with yet another serenade.
“It’s just gone six,” I said when the feathered alarm clock was done.
“You going for a run?”
“No, I don’t think that’s safe. Might be prying eyes out there. Just figured I’d wear something practical.” Life had taught me that practical often meant safe.
Brendan yawned and stretched. I loved watching him in bed, even if it was a narrow bunk at my grandparents’ house.
I moved to sit next to him, raking my fingers through his hair. “So, when we go back, any chance you could stay a couple of days in Chester with me?”
“Please, babe. Don’t tempt me. I’m already on overtime of overtime here.”
“I know. Just teasing,” I cooed, not really teasing at all. “Hope Renée won’t be too angry.”
Brendan pushed himself up on his elbow and pulled me down for a kiss. It was all I could do not to slip out of my clothes and join him under the duvet. I managed to disengage, hating the fact that it would be weeks until we could be this close again. I went to sit on the chair by his window, and Brendan swung his feet out of bed. I threw him his T-shirt, soaking in the sight of his well-toned muscles.
He smiled at me, fully aware of my admiration. “He’s actually not as angry as I might have given the impression of. I mean, he’s French, after all. Lots of words and gestures, less bite. As long as he doesn’t get hold of a sabre, that is.”
There was a gentle rap on the door. “Ru?” Charlie whispered. “Are you up? And decent?” she added.
“Come in,” I said.
She opened the door and slipped inside, closing it behind her. “I got a call from Travers.” She was still whispering. “They’re coming, finally. He had to go all the way to the top, he said, which I gather means Number 10. So, he wasn’t lying yesterday. Says he’s bringing a lot of muscle. ETA around 2 pm, give or take.”
“Did you have any luck booking tickets?”
Charlie hesitated.
“You have to go, Char. You too, B. And preferably Jen, but she’s not as unpopular around here as you guys.”
Brendan shook his head. “I won’t leave until you’re ready, Ru. As I said, Renée will understand. And before you start, I’ve made up my mind, so save your breath.”
“And I’m staying, too. I’ll have to convince Mari and Rhys to testify to Travers.”
“They can’t stay here.” I tried to keep my voice down. “If the reeve finds out that Mari told us about the offerings, let alone what Rhys took part in at the Bakers’, they’re doomed. Besides, you already have Leighton Ballard.”
“I know, Ru. I wish there was another way, but Travers was adamant about it. He needs first-hand witnesses, and unless you think your grandparents are willing to go on record, it has to be Mari and Rhys. Ballard can only testify to what happened to him, not all the others who have been taken and killed.”
I slumped back in the chair with a sigh. “Fine. Hopefully, it will all be over tonight, anyway. Whatever ‘it all’ means.”
Voices sounded from the kitchen, along with the rattling of pots and pans. The rest of the house was coming to life.
“Seems it�
�s breakfast time,” Brendan said.
We went to the kitchen, where Mari stood by the bench, cutting herbs and vegetables. The scents of her magic touch were already permeating the air.
“Good morning,” she chirped. “All well rested?”
“Fresh as a rooster,” Brendan replied.
Llewellyn put a log in the oven. “Not something you hear in the city, I would think.”
Lili sat in her wheelchair with a thick, blue blanket wrapped around her feet and waist. She looked anything but well rested. Her skin was so pale it almost looked translucent, her purple veins clearly visible underneath. She turned her head slowly from her husband to me.
“I hope you’ll come back and visit us again soon, Guinevere. These past days have flown by so fast.”
“I would like that, grandmother. A lot.” I really did, but at the same time I feared there might not be much to come back to. What would happen to Llewellyn and Lili when Travers arrived?
“Has Jen been here?” Charlie asked.
“Not that I have seen, and I’ve been up a while,” replied my grandfather.
Jen and her wolves were probably still somewhere in the woods, feasting on some poor deer. If there was one image I would never get used to, it was how the gorgeous, elegant Jeannine Lune lay on the forest bed, munching on raw, bloody meat.
“I like her,” Lili said.
Charlie had begun setting the table and placed a glass in front of Lili. My grandmother reached for her, the old arm looking more like a dry branch of a tree, shaking in the wind. She got hold of Charlie’s hand and shook it gently. “I like your Donnal friends, too.”
Charlie swallowed hard. “Thank you, Lili. I know that’s not an easy thing to say.”
This wasn’t right. I loved that Lili seemed to accept Charlie and Brendan, but everything else was wrong. In a few hours, Travers, and who knew how many coppers, would arrive, turning the sleepy—albeit terrifying behind the façade—town of Perllanafal on its head. I had to speak up.
“Ther—”
“That might have done it,” said a rumbling voice from the patio door, cutting my first syllable off. Rhys stood there, wiping his hands with an oily rag. “She’ll live to see another day or five.”