“Bran! I can’t believe you came here. What are you two doing?”
“Aidan is showing me how humans spend their evenings.” He took a gulp of beer and smacked his lips in appreciation.
“Not so loud! What if someone hears you talking about ‘humans’ like you’re not one?”
“Oh, Gwen. Always worrying. I wish you were here. I tried to find you, but Aidan says you’re over the ocean.”
“Shall we go outside?” Aidan’s disembodied voice emanated from the phone. “It’s hard to hear.”
The screen blurred, chattering voices came and went, and footsteps thumped. Ellie elbowed Gwen.
“Maybe we should go visit England again. I forgot how cute Bran is.”
Finally, the phone went quiet and stabilized.
“You know,” Bran said in an uncharacteristically thoughtful manner. “I wonder…”
“Uh oh,” Gwen said. “I don’t like the sound of that. What are you up to?”
“Give me a moment.” His eyes narrowed in concentration.
“What are you doing?” said Aidan’s voice. Bran waved him away.
A jolt in Gwen’s abdomen made her gasp. Not in her stomach, precisely—if she had had to describe it she would have said her center had shifted an inch to the left and back again. She looked at her hands quickly, expecting to see fire, but smooth skin and short fingernails greeted her eyes, unadorned by the flames she had sometimes seen before she could control her magic.
“Quick, check me over,” she said to Ellie. “Did I do any magic just now? Does anything look out of the ordinary?”
“No, you look fine. What’s up?”
“I felt really strange for a moment.” Gwen had her magic under control these days—what was going on? Why had her core reacted so strongly to nothing at all? She wasn’t feeling any particularly strong emotions that might trigger her magic. A second jolt hit her and she inhaled swiftly.
“There it is again. I don’t understand—”
She looked into Ellie’s wary face, and everything went dark.
Chapter 3
One moment, everything was darkness and confusion around Gwen. The next, she was suspended in a bright, featureless space, with nothing supporting her. She had a momentary feeling of weightlessness, and then collapsed onto solid ground where she hit her bottom hard against stone. Her eyes wouldn’t focus properly. She sat still, trying to reconcile her body to her new surroundings, feeling very strange.
“Gwen!” a strangled voice croaked close by. There was a scrambling and a blurry face swam in her vision. She blinked in confusion, too disoriented to be nervous or jumpy.
“Ellie?” she murmured. “Where are you?”
Her eyes cleared and she recognized the pale, wide-eyed face in front of her.
“Aidan?” She stared at him for a minute, her foggy brain whirling. How was this possible? Had she been hit by a passing car, and was now unconscious? “Am I dreaming?” She looked around. The setting sun cast shadows of houses on a narrow lane lined with cobblestones.
“Uh—” Aidan sat back on his heels. “No, you’re not asleep. You’re in Britain.”
Gwen looked at him, uncomprehending.
“That’s not possible,” she said slowly, her voice thick and difficult to push out. She cleared her throat. “I was in Vancouver a minute ago.”
“Yeah, about that…” Aidan glanced behind Gwen.
Gwen carefully turned to look behind her. Sprawled on the ground as if he had fallen where he stood lay Bran, his features calm and unruffled. She stared for a moment, and glanced down at her hand where Bran’s ring cooled on her thumb. Where the ring touched her skin, red burn marks were forming.
“I think he tried to summon you from Canada with the ring. We were talking before, and he said it was theoretically possible, but that he’d never tried it. He collapsed and you appeared out of nowhere.” Aidan ran his hands through his hair, making it stand on end.
Gwen got to her hands and knees with deliberate care. Her stomach started to turn and grumble. She tried to ignore it as she shuffled over to Bran.
“Is he okay?” She put her fingers on his neck to check for a pulse. Bran’s heartbeat throbbed under her fingers. She could hear his breathing, deep and even. She shook his shoulders gently, then more forcefully. Bran’s head flopped back and forth, but his expression remained serene and his breathing unchanged. She sat back on her feet and looked at Aidan.
“I think he’s just asleep.”
Aidan glanced around. No one stood in the lane, so he bent down and heaved Bran onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry, staggering under the weight.
“It’s not far,” he said, his breath coming in short gusts. “Can you walk? Let’s go to my flat.”
Gwen wobbled to her feet and followed Aidan’s weaving footsteps. She felt disoriented, and her surroundings appeared remote, unreal. Her feet hardly seemed attached to her body as they stepped one after the other down the lane.
Aidan was panting by the time they arrived at a two-storey brick house on the corner. Gwen gripped the handrail tightly as she navigated a set of rickety stairs inside the main door. Aidan jiggled the doorknob of the first door on their left, then kicked it open.
“The lock doesn’t work anymore. Sticky.”
Gwen entered the small apartment, half-open boxes scattered haphazardly on the floor. A single lamp kept the darkness beyond the window at bay.
Her stomach gave a nasty flop, and she was suddenly sure she was going to be sick. She must have turned green, because Aidan looked at her warily. “Where’s your bathroom?” she forced out.
He pointed to a door across from her and she stumbled to her feet. She reached the toilet just in time to deposit her breakfast there. She sat shaking on the floor to let her stomach slowly calm. What had happened? How had she been transported halfway around the world? And what was she going to do now?
When she came out, Aidan was waiting for her with a mug of water. She sank onto the couch gratefully. Aidan pulled a box over and perched nearby, searching her face with a worried expression. She sighed.
“So, Bran brought me across the world and helpfully fell unconscious so he can’t undo it. Now I’m stuck in England with no plane ticket home, and—oh no, no passport. How am I going to get home?” She looked at Aidan, panic filling her mind. “And Ellie—she must be worried out of her mind.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket, and saw with dismay that she had no signal. “Dammit, my phone doesn’t work here.”
Aidan dug into his own pocket.
“Here, use mine.”
Gwen quickly dialed Ellie’s number. Ellie picked up halfway through the first ring.
“Hello?”
“Ellie? It’s Gwen.”
“Gwen? Thank goodness! Where did you go? One second we were talking, and the next you blipped out of existence!”
“I know. Bran pulled me to England using magic.”
“What? You mean you’re in England right now? No way!”
“Way. Just when I thought I’d figured out this magic thing, something else bites me in the butt.”
“What are you going to do?”
Gwen sighed.
“I don’t know yet. I’ll call my dad in a bit and figure it out. I’ll get him to let you know what’s happening.” Gwen paused, then said, “Sorry about missing dance class tonight.”
“Yeah, you’d better be sorry.” Ellie gave a tiny laugh which didn’t hide the worry in her voice. “Call your dad soon, okay? And be careful.”
“Okay. I’ll see you soon.”
“You too.”
She leaned back into the couch, her worries temporarily alleviated by hearing Ellie’s voice. Gwen and Aidan were quiet for a moment. Gwen let her head rest against the couch.
“It’s really good to see you.” Aidan’s voice broke the silence. Gwen turned her head to look at him. His expressive face was equal parts hopeful, nervous, and happy. Her heart squeezed a little. She hadn’t realized how muc
h she had missed him. They’d talked at odd hours, the delay in the video both funny and frustrating, and they’d texted back and forth, but it was different seeing him in front of her—solid and reassuring and so real. She felt her cheeks lift as her smile grew wider and wider.
“I missed you too.”
He leaned forward to tentatively brush her hair back from her face, letting his hand linger on her cheek. She brought her arms up and wrapped them around him in a hug which he quickly reciprocated. Her face nestled into the crook of his neck where she breathed in his warmth and relaxed into him. She was enjoying the sensation so much that she was shocked into cold wakefulness when a dart of anxiety pierced through the euphoria.
She pulled back, the good feelings wormed through with anxiousness. Was it right to lead him on, to let him put all his faith in their blossoming relationship? Dread and guilt weighed her down at the thought of him moving all the way to Vancouver to be with her.
Aidan seemed to sense none of this as he smiled into her eyes. She tried to smile back convincingly. To cover her confusion she glanced at Bran, and remembered how she had arrived.
“What are we going to do with him?”
Aidan tightened his lips as he looked at Bran’s unconscious form. He frowned.
“Wait. Did he move?”
Gwen dropped to her knees and scuttled over to Bran on the floor. Bran was unmistakably twitching. His face contorted with spasms and his limbs shook.
“Oh no, oh no,” Gwen said frantically as she put a hand on Bran’s shoulder to stop the twitching, without effect. “What’s happening to him?”
“Should I call an ambulance?” Aidan’s face was white. He reached for his phone on the table. Gwen thought quickly.
“I don’t know—what if it’s some sort of Breenan sickness? Can the doctors even do anything?”
“We can’t let him die on us.”
They stared at Bran’s spasming form, paralyzed with indecision. Before Gwen could reach any conclusions, Bran’s eyes flew open.
“Bran!” Gwen said. “Are you okay?”
Bran breathed heavily for a moment and stared at the ceiling. His face was white with an unusually serious expression. Eventually, he turned his head to focus on Gwen.
“Hi, Gwen.” He tried for a smile, but it was strained and only a ghost of his usual flippant grin. “The spell worked.”
“Yes, it did, you meddling Breenan.” Gwen squeezed his shoulder lightly. “How are you feeling?”
Bran closed his eyes as if the effort of keeping them open was too much.
“I’ve been better.” His face twisted and his chest shook with unreleased coughs. He struggled to sit and Aidan swooped down to prop up Bran’s torso. Bran finally opened his mouth. Instead of a barking cough, sparks flew out from between Bran’s lips. Flashes of blue and green shot out as far as Bran’s knees before they sizzled into nothing. When the fit was over, Bran leaned back into Gwen’s and Aidan’s arms.
Gwen looked at Aidan. He was as pale as Bran.
“Okay, that was weird,” she said shakily.
“I suppose calling the ambulance isn’t the brightest idea.”
“Bran, do you know what’s wrong? How can we help?”
“I think I did too much magic.”
“You don’t say,” Aidan said under his breath.
“It doesn’t happen very often, back in my world. Our training—they warn us about it. It’s not easy to overextend yourself, so it’s not usually a problem.” Bran gave a weak smile. “What can I say? I’m an extraordinary person.” His body shook and sparks flew out of his mouth. Gwen flinched. Bran leaned back again. “It’s not good. I need to get back to my father. He might be able to heal me.”
“Might?” Gwen said. “What do you mean, might?”
“I haven’t heard of anyone who’s actually recovered from overuse of magic. It interferes with your core, and everything in your body is connected to your core. Your body starts going out of control, until…”
“Until what?” Gwen said, her jaw clenched unpleasantly in anticipation of his answer.
“Like I said, I haven’t heard of anyone recovering.” Bran closed his eyes and rested his head on Gwen’s shoulder. “But I’m sure someone somewhere has. And if anyone can heal me, my father can. He has a lot of power.”
Gwen sighed.
“Oh, Bran. You couldn’t have let the locket be.” She looked at Aidan. He shrugged in resignation.
“I suppose we have to take him back to the Otherworld. To his father. Maybe he’ll know what to do.”
Gwen’s heart leaped unexpectedly. Back to the Otherworld—fear filled her, but a thread of something else wove through the fear. Could it be excitement?
“Okay,” Gwen said, hiding her conflicting feelings. “I guess we’re going back.”
***
“Ugh, this bag is about to burst like a piñata.” Aidan hoisted his backpack more securely onto his shoulders. They had left Bran tucked up in Aidan’s bed in order to stock up on food and supplies for their journey to the Otherworld, or as much “stocking up” as could be done at the local corner store. Gwen thought nervously of their packets of chips and day-old buns, and felt woefully underprepared for the perils of the Otherworld. She pulled the oversized raincoat she’d borrowed from Aidan more closely to herself over her tank top and shorts, wondering how she could find some Breenan-style clothes once they passed through a portal.
“You’re sure your mum won’t mind us borrowing her backpack and sleeping bags?” Gwen bit her lip as she thought of meeting Aidan’s mother for the first time. Aidan hadn’t said much about her, beyond her disapproval of his musical aspirations. What was she like? What would she think of Gwen?
“Yeah, it’ll be fine. But, I wanted to remind you—I haven’t told her about what happened in May. About the Otherworld, my father, or anything.”
“Why not?” Gwen was astounded. She had poured out the whole story to her father as soon as she had arrived home.
“She’s not interested in that part of me,” Aidan said dismissively. “She’s always told me to hide my magic, and never wanted to hear about it. So it’s better if she doesn’t know.” He kept his eyes straight ahead. Gwen wondered what it would have been like to grow up without her father’s support of her strangeness. She decided it would be incredibly lonely. Her hand slipped into Aidan’s, fingers interlocking. He glanced down, startled, then grinned shyly at her.
They walked that way for a minute, Aidan’s hand warm in hers and the evening air cool against her bare legs. Gwen felt strangely calm and happy, despite her niggling undefined anxieties about Aidan, her worries about getting home again, and her fears about their future path. Aidan cleared his throat.
“Ah—there’s something else I haven’t told her.” He snuck a glance at Gwen and quickly looked away. Gwen raised her eyebrows.
“What else is there to tell?” Surely their journey to the Otherworld was secret enough.
“I haven’t told her about you,” he said in a rush.
Gwen felt her stomach flop.
“What?” She dropped his hand immediately and he let it fall. “You mean I’m going to turn up on her doorstep without any warning?” She let out a breath in disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell her?”
They stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Gwen felt her hands rise to sit on her hips. It was clichéd but she was too annoyed to change her position. Aidan stuck his hands in his pockets defensively.
“I—I just…” he said to the ground, then squared his shoulders and looked into Gwen’s eyes. “I didn’t want her to think that I was going to university and Vancouver only for you.”
“Well, you are coming to Vancouver for me.”
“Well, yes, but the music.” His breath whooshed out. “That’s my decision, that’s what I want to do, and I was afraid she’d—I don’t know, blame you for making me choose an impractical career.” He hunched his shoulders and looked at the ground again. “I was going to tell her e
ventually. Once I’d moved.”
Gwen looked at his miserable form and sighed. It was hard to stay angry at him when she heard why he’d done it. She hoped she wasn’t making a mistake dragging him to Canada.
“Come on, then. Let’s get this over with.” She tucked her arm through his and they started to walk again. Aidan continued to sneak nervous peeks at her face.
Finally, he said, “We’re here, at the great estate of Amberlaine. I call it Mum’s Manor.” They stopped in front of a tiny cottage, steps from the main road. The cottage’s miniscule front garden put on a valiant show of flowers and foliage despite limpness from lack of watering and seedpods in need of deadheading. Checkered curtains covered the windows against the fading daylight.
Aidan knocked briefly and pushed open the door.
“Mum?” he said, poking his head through the gap.
“Aidan? You’re back!” a voice called from another room. Gwen could hear the scraping of a chair and soft footfalls. She tensed and tried to compose her face into a pleasant, upstanding-citizen expression. She felt unequal to the task, and pulled Aidan’s raincoat higher up her neck to cover her tattoo. There was little she could do about the blue stripe in her hair, and she nervously patted it smooth.
“I brought someone with me,” Aidan said. His mother padded through an entryway at the end of the corridor, her smile bright at the sight of Aidan. Gwen could immediately see their resemblance in her smile and in the shape of her eyes, but there the similarities ended. Aidan’s mother had chestnut-brown hair liberally salted with gray, and her features were soft and rounded. Age and worry had taken their toll, but Gwen could see the pretty, apple-cheeked young woman she must have been when Declan had met her.
His mother’s smile turned quizzical at Aidan’s words and her gaze fell upon Gwen. Her eyes widened. Gwen tried for a friendly smile.
“Hello. I’m Gwen.” She stepped forward and stuck out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Aidan’s mother blinked a few times, then slowly shook Gwen’s outstretched hand. “Hello, Gwen. I’m Aidan’s mother, Deirdre.”
Breenan Series Box Set Page 25