Forgotten

by Victoria DeLuis

  “My sources described them as jubilant after your meeting. How dare you speak to them? Do you have any idea of how much damage they could cause the world?” His jaw clenched and for the first time, I found myself wondering if Thomas could beat him in a fight the way he’d beaten the goblin.

  “If you didn’t deal with them,” Joe continued. “What did you do?”

  Thomas looked at me. I could tell he was holding back from telling Joe where to shove his questions.

  I sighed. As much as I also wanted to tell Joe to shove it, I knew we’d find Rhys Roberts quicker with Joe on our side than without him.

  “Look, I’m sorry we didn’t inform you of our actions beforehand—”

  “I would have damn well stopped you,” Joe said, interrupting me.

  “No, you would not.” This time, I was the one using a tone, and one that brooked no argument. “I needed their help to trace my curse and they gave it. As I have already said, no deal was made. They gave their magic knowing full well I would guarantee them nothing in return.”

  Joe weighed my words in his head for a minute, and although it was obvious he wanted to rant and rave, he knew it would be pointless.

  “Deal or not,” he said at last. “You should not have gone, plain and simple. Any help you needed, I would have given.”

  “You’ve been helping us to trace the curse for months,” Thomas said. “You couldn’t have helped further. We needed more.”

  “All right, all right.” Joe raised his hand in front of his head to ward off any more words. “We’re not going to get anywhere talking about this. I assume you have some new information that's brought you here.”

  I nodded, explained the situation to Joe, and asked for his help in tracing Rhys Roberts.

  Joe stood and paced the chamber. “I know the name, but haven’t heard it for a while. I’ll check my sources and get back to you in the morning.”

  “You think you’ll be able to help us find him?”

  Joe hesitated, looked at Thomas, and then rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s been more than a few years, but he used to live in an apartment in Cardiff Bay. He might still be there. Although, I doubt it. If memory serves, he married some time ago. If he’s moved, it may take a few days to find out his new address.”

  It was a start. We didn’t have enough information for a DVLA driver’s license check. Rhys Roberts was likely a popular name in this part of Wales, as well as many others. For now, Joe was our best source of information.

  Thomas stood and offered his hand to pull me up. “We’ll let you get some rest and speak to you in the morning then,” he said.

  As we were leaving, Joe called down the corridor after us. “Rhys isn’t known to be violent,” he said. “He was a petty crook, and word of his misbehaving ceased when he married. But if he’s responsible for the curse laid on you and your mam. If he’s responsible for your nana’s death, then he is not a nice man. You be careful when you speak to him.”

  I nodded and waved, although something unexpected rose in my mind. We’d been so focused on the fact that my father wasn’t responsible and so quick to lay the blame at Rhy’s feet, but what if he wasn’t entirely to blame? What if the death curse was an unintended outcome of his bargain? The Tylwyth Teg weren’t renowned for playing fair. In fact, the opposite was true.

  “What do you want to do now?” Thomas asked when we left the hill and walked to the car. Grey clouds obscured the night sky, allowing only patches of moonlight to break through. A heaviness weighted the air.

  I leaned into him and placed my head on his shoulder. “I just want to go home, grab some proper food, and get a full night’s sleep.”

  Thomas pulled me in closer. “Sounds good to me,” he said.

  Neither of us added that we’d need it, that we couldn’t be sure how much rest we’d get in the coming weeks. The energy in the air belied the storm to come, and somehow seemed fitting. We had three months to our wedding day, three months before we could relax. I had to stay positive and believe I wasn’t dreaming that I’d make it that long.

  Chapter Five

  The next morning, I awoke to the sound of voices and laughter. Thomas was nowhere in sight, and after a brief flicker of confusion, I remembered Gwen had spent the night.

  Thomas and I had returned from Joe’s to find a pot of hearty soup bubbling on the stove, and Mam and Gwen nattering at the kitchen table. We’d had a lovely meal and went to bed feeling a lot better about everything. After months of searching, we finally had a clue to work with. There may have been some guilt weighing on Mam — she’d blamed Dad and left him to his fate for so long — but I could tell there was also a sense of relief; he hadn’t betrayed her.

  I snuggled under the duvet and listened to the voices bubbling from below for a while. After a frustrating few minutes, during which I resisted the urge to activate my Ailm tattoo and amplify their voices, I decided to leave the bed and shower. I savoured the hot water, then threw on some comfy clothes and joined the party downstairs.

  “Morning,” I said, as I entered the kitchen.

  “Just.” Thomas smiled and looked at the clock.

  I was shocked to note the time as nearing midday and almost admonished everyone for letting me sleep so late, but they’d only argue how much I’d needed the rest. They would have been right, too. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a decent night’s sleep, and I must admit, I felt more refreshed than I had in a long time.

  Mam and Gwen sat at the table with steaming cups of tea in front of them while Thomas stood by the sink. He handed me a cup of my own, and I joined the ladies at the table.

  “You both seem happy,” I said, noting their smiles.

  “I was just reminding your mam of the time she turned a squirrel bright pink. Poor creature.”

  “In my defence, I was seven at the time and thought it would look cute.”

  Gwen chuckled. “I’m not so sure about cute, but it certainly looked different.”

  Thomas placed a mushroom omelette on the table in front of me and took the fourth seat.

  I smiled my thanks and then turned to Mam. “And you had the cheek to forbid me from turning a fox white when I was about the same age,” I said in mock indignation.

  “Quite right,” Mam said. “You needed to learn from my mistakes, not repeat them. It took us almost a week to catch the poor creature and turn it back to its normal colour. We were lucky a predator hadn’t come along and gobbled it up in the meantime.”

  “It’s a shame you didn’t learn sooner yourself,” said Gwen. “Remember when you were fifteen and dyed your hair almost the exact same colour.”

  I giggled while Mam’s face turned a shade of pink itself.

  “Oh dear, yes. Mam’s eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw me. I desperately wanted her to shout at me and force me to change it back. I was, of course, far too proud to admit I’d made a terrible mistake.” Mam sighed and shook her head. “But no, even though it was clear she hated it, Mam would never have ordered me to change it. ‘Your hair, your choice,’ that’s what she’d said.”

  Gwen laughed so hard, she had to wipe a tear from her eye. “It did not suit you at all. Maybe someone with a paler complexion could pull it off, but with your typically Welsh olive skin, it did not look good.”

  “Do you remember the time Mam put it in a bun? God, I felt so stupid, like I had a blancmange sitting on the top of my head. The very next day, I changed it back to normal. I have never messed with my hair since.”

  “Really?” I said, noting her rich auburn hair. “Not even to cover a little grey now and then?”

  “Cheek. I’m only forty-five.”

  I raised my eyebrows and gave her a look.

  “Fine,” she said, putting her hands up in mock surrender. “Maybe I use a concoction or two to encourage colour, but it’s all natural colour, so that hardly counts.”

  “If you say so,” I said.

  Mam looked around the table for support. Gwen hi
d her face in her tea while Thomas beamed at her.

  “I agree,” he said. “Encouraging your natural colour does not count as messing with your hair at all.”

  “Traitor.”

  He winked at me. “It’s always a good idea to get on the right side of your future mother-in-law.”

  I couldn’t help but smile when Mam reached over a squeezed his hand. “Quite right,” she said.

  It was nice to just sit and chat, something we hadn’t done with such ease in a long time. As I savoured the creamy taste of my omelette, I enjoyed listening to the light-hearted banter around the table. Gwen and Man laughed at shared jokes from their past. Thomas smiled and beamed with mirth at Mam’s youthful antics. We were so wrapped up in our conversation that when the phone rang it was a shock to everyone.

  “I’ll get it,” Thomas said, thoughtful not to break up our conversation more than the phone already had. But it was too late. We all knew it must be Joe, and with any luck, he had an address for Rhys Roberts.

  Thomas took the call out of the room. While he was gone, I put my plate in the sink before checking myself and washing it. When he returned, the look on his face told me the news was good.

  “Rhys is still in Cardiff Bay,” I said.

  “Yep, he has a place not far from the International Pool.”

  Mam jumped to her feet. “I should come with you.”

  I shook my head. “That’s not a good idea. Thomas and I will pay a visit to Rhys alone.”

  “I can’t just sit here,” Mam said.

  Thomas placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Then don’t. Why don’t you write down everything you can remember about meeting Summer’s dad, and also about the land of the Tylwyth Teg? Even if we break the curse, we may still have to get him back from there.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Gwen said. “I’ll pop on another cuppa and we can work through what we know together.”

  Mam smiled appreciatively at them both. They were trying to keep her busy and distracted, but Thomas was right, the information may come in handy at some stage.

  I grabbed my jacket, and after a warning to stay safe, Thomas and I left for Cardiff.

  *

  Rhys had upgraded his flat to a four-storey townhouse overlooking the bay. We parked in the car park off Empire Way and walked around the corner to his street. The street housed twin rows of identical dwellings, and although the contemporary style of the buildings were not to my taste, it was obvious they cost a pretty penny. The house fronted Penarth Marina and had stunning views across the Bristol Channel. No doubt, Rhys’ druidic seer abilities had seen him do well in life.

  I moved to ring the bell, but the door opened before I had the chance to. A surly teenager with buds hanging from his ears and a phone in his hand took one look at us and then turned to shout into the house.

  “Mum. There’s someone at the door,” he said before pushing past us and walking down the street. Thomas raised an eyebrow and I stifled a giggle.

  A lady hurried into the hall, wearing soapy dishwashing gloves and holding a sponge in one hand and a mug in the other.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. She moved passed us and looked down the street towards her son. She took a deep breath as though to shout, but then shook her head.

  “Teenagers,” she said, exasperated. “No point in shouting, even if he could hear me with those things glued to his ears.”

  I smiled and pictured the lady with headphones on listening to an old-fashioned Walkman. After hearing Gwen and Mam talking this morning, it was clear many parents admonished their kids for things they once did themselves.

  “How can I help you?” she asked eventually.

  “I wonder if you can,” Thomas said, smiling. “We’re looking for a Mr Rhys Roberts.”

  “I’m Mrs Roberts. Rhys isn’t here at the moment. He’s away on business.”

  “Can you tell us where he is exactly?” I asked. “It’s important that we speak to him.”

  Mrs Roberts eyed me suspiciously. I made a mental note to keep my mouth shut in these circumstances and let Thomas do the talking. People always responded better to him than to me.

  “Who are you and what is this about, exactly?” she asked.

  I turned to Thomas, leaving the response up to him.

  “My name is Thomas, and this is Summer. Mr Roberts used to know Summer’s mother...”

  Thomas stopped talking. Mrs Roberts’ face had become wan, turning alabaster white at the sound of my name.

  “Who... who did you say you were again?” she asked, her voice unsure.

  “Summer.” I cleared my throat. “Summer Daniels.”

  Mrs Roberts sagged at the knees. Thomas reached out to steady her. I took the mug from her hand before she dropped it.

  “I’m not here to cause you any trouble,” I said, hoping that my words proved true. “I just really need to speak to your husband.”

  Mrs Roberts turned towards her house, still shaking. “I know. I’m sorry,” she said. “You must think me a complete idiot,” she choked back a sob. “Rhys said you would come. It’s just been so long, I’d almost forgotten.”

  Thomas lay a comforting hand on Mrs Roberts’ shoulder. “Perhaps, we could talk inside,” he said. “We could get you a glass of water. You can tell us what Rhys told you about Summer, and we can explain why it’s important we see him.”

  Mrs Roberts nodded and allowed Thomas to help her inside. I sighed and followed while trying to ignore the ache building in my head. As a druid, Rhys may have foreseen my arrival at his door and arrange to be absent. I’d come prepared to do battle, not deal with a crumbling wife.

  “Here you go,” Thomas said a few minutes later while handing Leah — which we’d learned to be Mrs Roberts’ first name — a glass of water.

  I placed her rubber gloves next to the sink and wiped some bubbles from the counter with the cloth. A lemony scent filled the kitchen. I performed the slight task to keep occupied while Thomas saw to Leah’s comfort. It was clear my presence disturbed her, as her gaze never left my face when she took a sip of water and placed the glass on the breakfast bar she sat beside.

  She took a deep breath. “Rhys said you’d be pretty, ‘like her Mam’. Those were his exact words. He’s not your father, at least, that’s what he told me, and I believe him.”

  “I know,” I said.

  Leah nodded as though glad to have the issue confirmed. I glanced around the pristine white kitchen — the hub of many households. Sparkling floors and marble countertops greeted me. With the built-in oven and hob the only appliance in sight, I surmised the rest must be integrated with the units. My eyes rested on a family photograph of Leah, two kids, and the man I assumed to be Rhys Roberts. Even in a picture, I could see he was tall. He had long dark hair and stubble on his chin, reminding me of Viggo Mortensen, or rather, Aragorn, in the Lord of the Rings movies. Despite pushing fifty, he possessed a roguish handsomeness that I could definitely see my Mam, or any other woman for that matter, easily falling for.

  Leah followed my gaze to the photograph. “Those are our kids. Ryan, who you sort of met.” She smiled. “And Katie. She stayed at a friend’s last night. She’s only eight. It’s her first sleepover.”

  “You have a lovely family,” I said.

  “I do, and that includes Rhys. I don’t know what he did to you. He never told me.”

  I went to speak, but Leah held her hand up.

  “He did tell me that you had very good reason to hate him. You and your mam both. Whatever he did weighed on his conscience. It’s important you know that. He’s a good man.”

  “Do you know where we can find him?” I asked.

  Leah shook her head. “I only know where he was going.”

  Thomas sat on the bar stool next to Leah. “What aren’t you telling us?” he asked.

  Leah took another sip of water and let out a deep breath. “Rhys said that one day you may come, and that if that day came, he would be in mortal danger.”
r />   “I promise you, we would never dream of hurting him unless in self-defence,” I said.

  “I know. He said that if you came, it meant the job he was working on had turned bad. If you chose not to help him, he would die. But... but if you helped, there was still a danger not all of you would make it back.” She wiped a tear from her cheek. “I know in my heart he’s as good as dead.”

  Thomas reached over and squeezed her hand. “No, he’s not. We won’t let that happen.”

  “Why would you help when you may not survive? You don’t know my husband. Don’t know what a good man he is. If you hate him, why would you risk yourselves?”

  I glanced once more at the happy family photograph, at the man it contained. I studied his caring face and admitted to myself that Rhys wasn’t at all the man I’d been expecting. I’d expected one of two types of men: either a disdainful businessman in the vein of Mr Platt, the cold-hearted goblin who’d sooner cut your throat than play nice, or a slimy weasel, who liked to wriggle his way out of situations. Although, now that I thought about it, Mr Platt covered both those scenarios. I should have known better. Mam would never have dated either sort of man.

  Nana may not have perceived Rhys Roberts as ideal boyfriend material for Mam, but it was clear that he’d proved himself as such for Leah. I’d been around her for less than ten minutes and knew how much she cared for him. Even without the need to find him for my own benefit, I’d take the case to bring him home, no matter the risks involved to myself, but what of the risks to Thomas?

  I pushed the thought from my head. We were a team, ‘in this together,’ that’s what he’d tell me. I had to stop trying to protect him and let us both do our jobs.

  I leaned across the breakfast bar and locked eye to eye with Leah. “Firstly, I do not hate your husband. It’s becoming more and more clear he’s as much a victim of the machinations of the Tylwyth Teg as I am.” I looked to Thomas for agreement and saw it.

  “The Tylwyth Teg?” Leah said before I had any chance to continue with my second point. “Rhys works for one of the fair folk.”