“Well,” said Aidan at last. “Time for a pint?”
***
It was lunchtime, and the warm pub was full and buzzing pleasantly with contented people anticipating the holidays. Exposed beams hung low over patrons’ heads, and a warm glow shone through numerous stained-glass lamps over tables. Gwen shifted from foot to foot as she scanned the crowd.
“I can’t tell if he’s here,” she said.
“Let’s walk around. There are more rooms over here.” Aidan led the way, then stopped. “Do you suppose we’d recognize him? What if he had makeup on for the telly?”
Gwen grabbed Aidan’s arm.
“Look, at the bar,” she whispered loudly to be heard over the din. “That man with black hair. He’s alone.”
“It could be,” said Aidan doubtfully. “We’ll have to get closer to truly know.” He strode toward two empty bar stools beside the man.
“Aidan!” Gwen squeaked, but she scurried after him.
They slid into the seats, and Gwen sneaked a glance at the man’s profile. A sharp nose and a narrow, almost gaunt face convinced her immediately that they had found Finn Sayward. He stared morosely into his pint, his plate of chips largely untouched before him. His quiet melancholy was a striking contrast to the happy crowd behind him.
Aidan glanced at Gwen, and she nodded once. He turned to Finn.
“Hello, mate.”
Finn glanced up briefly with disinterest.
“Hello.”
“What’s good on the menu? We’re passing through.”
Finn waved at his plate.
“The chips are good.” He picked one up and took a resolute bite, perhaps more to stop the conversation than because he was hungry. Aidan glanced at Gwen in mute appeal.
“I think I saw you on Dance Till You Drop,” Gwen blurted out. “You’re Finn Sayward, right?”
“That’s me.” He took a swig of his pint with a practiced grace. Gwen wondered how many he’d had already. “Fans, are you?”
“Oh, yes, big fans,” Gwen said. She dithered for a moment, then said, “I noticed your tattoo last episode. I really liked it. Where did you have it done?”
“Nowhere nearby.”
“Can I see it?”
“What, now?” Finn said. When Gwen nodded, he shrugged. “Whatever, all right.”
He started to unbutton his shirt. The bartender bustled over.
“Oi! No shirt, no service. Do I have to cut you off, Sayward?”
Finn waved him away and rebuttoned his shirt. A frown crossed his face.
“Why did you want to see it?”
Gwen looked him in the eye.
“Because I have one just like it.”
Chapter 2
Gwen watched as the meaning of her words slowly sunk into Finn’s drink-befuddled brain. First, confusion; then, suspicion; finally, a blossoming of disbelieving hope, like the sun peeking through a rent in storm clouds. He looked at Aidan.
“You too?” he asked hoarsely. Aidan nodded. Finn stood abruptly, grabbed his coat, and pulled Aidan’s arm up roughly. “Come. Let’s find somewhere quiet.”
Gwen trotted after Finn, who walked to the back of the pub with purposeful strides. A snug tucked into a corner had a cozy group of four on inset benches, drinking happily amid wood paneled walls hung with prints of hunting scenes.
“Snug’s reserved now,” Finn said abruptly. The other patrons looked affronted, and one of the men stood up and opened his mouth. Finn raised a hand and waved him off. Every one of the four took on a dazed expression and toddled out of the snug.
Gwen slid onto the bench. Finn was already seated and staring at them.
“Well?” he demanded. “What’s your story?”
Gwen glanced at Aidan, who nodded at her.
“I have a Breenan mother, who left me on my human father’s doorstep as a baby. Aidan’s father is Breenan. We fell into the Otherworld last spring, by accident.” Gwen pulled at the collar of her shirt to expose the edge of her tattoo. “That’s where we got our marks.”
“Let’s see.” Finn gestured to Aidan, who glanced around before he pulled off his sweater. Finn leaned in to examine the mark under his shirt, then sat back with an exhalation of amazement.
“Declan’s son. What do you know? I’m the reason you exist, Aidan. I’m the half-blood who dragged Declan on my forays to the human world.”
Aidan looked windblown by this pronouncement. He shrugged on his sweater. Finn took a long drink from the nearest glass.
“You’re not full Breenan?” Gwen said. “Did you grow up here or in the Otherworld?”
“Otherworld. Human father whom I’ve never met. I tried to find him while I was here, of course, but a picture with no name isn’t much to go on. I grew up with the forest people, although my mother was a queen. She visited occasionally.” He took another drink, then gestured to Gwen. “Let’s see yours.”
Gwen pulled the collar of her shirt over her shoulder, stretching the fabric enough for Finn to see the mark. Finn leaned forward to look.
“Will wonders never cease,” he said at last. He peered at Gwen’s face for long enough that Gwen wriggled in discomfort. She let her collar spring back into place.
“What?”
“Well met, niece of mine.” He took a drink while Gwen sat in stunned confusion. “Your grandmother, bless her flinty, overbearing, hypocritical heart, was my mother. Your mother Isolde is my sister. Not that I’ve ever met her, but there it is.” He began to laugh, and even though there was little happiness in the sound, he suited a smile.
“That’s crazy,” Gwen said. She stared at her new-found uncle. Isolde had mentioned a half-human brother, but Gwen hadn’t given him much thought. She could hardly think of what question to ask first. “Why did your mother keep you in the Otherworld and visit you? She made Isolde send me to my dad here.”
“As I said, hypocritical.” Finn stared moodily into his almost-empty drink.
“Why are you here?” said Aidan. “In the human world, I mean? If you grew up in the Otherworld?”
“Not by choice, that’s for certain. Years ago, I came through on a lark, then my mother died unexpectedly and now I’m stuck here. You know, I left behind a beautiful wife, and a baby daughter too.” He stared at his drink, and his eyes were moist. Gwen put a hand to her mouth.
“I’m so sorry.”
“She’s ten years old today. I should be there, in our little cottage in the valley of the Forbidden Lands. My wife Nialla would make apple tarts and Ione—well, I don’t even know what she would like to do, I don’t know her.”
He looked so morose and heartbroken that Gwen cast about for a change of topic to distract him.
“What are the Forbidden Lands like?” All Gwen knew was that they were where the tribeless ones went, those who received unusual marks in the Breenan coming-of-age ceremony.
“It’s pretty there,” he said vaguely. “Very pastoral.”
Something seemed to click then, and Finn’s eyes sharpened. He glanced between the two of them.
“You’re both human-world born, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not thinking straight. Too much drink. I assumed you were stuck here, but you’re in the human world by choice.” Finn shook his head in wonderment with a hopeful glint in his eyes. His hands gripped the edge of the table. “Your anchors, are they still alive? Isolde, Declan?”
“Yes,” Gwen said. “I was going to ask if you’d like to go back. I know how to make portals.”
Finn’s breathing grew fast.
“Yes,” he croaked. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.” He slid along the bench until he sat next to Gwen. “Make it here, right now. It’s the snug, no one will see.”
“You want to leave right now?” Gwen glanced at Aidan, who shrugged. “Don’t you need anything at your house?”
“The only things I care about are in the Otherworld. The rest can burn, as far as I’m concerned.” He gripped Gwen’s hand tightly. “P
lease, don’t make me wait. Nine years is long enough.”
“Okay, okay. Of course. But not here. And at least take some food. Aidan, go get the quickest food the kitchen has.”
“Here.” Finn passed Aidan his wallet. “Get a cold meat pie. And meet us behind the pub. Thanks, mate.”
Aidan left, and Finn stood unsteadily.
“Are you sure you should go in this state?” Gwen said.
“The Otherworld is my home.” He graced Gwen with a serene, blissful smile. “I’m going home.”
Gwen smiled back and gave Finn her arm. She took his coat and pressed it into his hand.
“Here, you’ll need this. It’s snowing on the other side.” Gwen frowned in thought. “If you have a daughter, could you have used her as an anchor? Does it work that way?”
“It might,” said Finn. “I did try, but she lives in the Forbidden Lands, which is a place without magic. Nothing came of my attempts.”
Aidan met them behind the pub. Gwen looked at Finn.
“It was nice to meet you, Uncle Finn.” She grinned at the familiar title. Finn laughed.
“And you, niece of mine. You are always welcome at my home, but you’ll have to visit me—I will never venture to the human world again.” He took her hand with a sober expression. “Always travel together. I would hate to think of you stranded in a world you don’t wish to be in.”
Gwen nodded fervently.
“We will.”
She squeezed his hand, then withdrew her own to hold it out in front of her. Her core warmed, and magic poured up her arm. The air fluttered as if in a breeze, then ripped. A large portal appeared before her.
“I hope you find your family,” Gwen said. Finn stepped through the portal and turned with a hand raised.
“Thank you, Gwen and Aidan. And farewell.”
Finn disappeared but the portal remained. Gwen frowned, then grabbed the edges of the world-fabric and pulled. The ragged edges slowly wove themselves together over the course of a minute, far slower than usual.
“I didn’t think you’d have a family reunion today,” Aidan said at last.
“No. Relatives keep popping out of the woodwork. I can’t believe he’s been away from his wife and daughter for so long. I’m glad I saw that TV show.”
“I, for one, feel pretty good about our act of Christmas charity. Fancy trying that meat pie before we leave?”
“Lead the way.”
***
Gwen carried her coat into the living room, where her father and Ada sat with cups of tea in their laps.
“Ready for that walk, Dad?”
“Sure. Let me grab my coat. Thanks for the tea, Aunty Ada.”
“You’re welcome, love. You two be careful out there. I don’t suppose you’ve seen the news. Terrible weather blowing up suddenly, more so than usual. And don’t forget those animals.” Ada twisted her floral-patterned teacup in its saucer absentmindedly.
“Oh, yes, the wolves. Probably a big dog,” Alan said with a chuckle. “Don’t worry about us. We’re from Canada. We can manage animals and weather.”
“Look, I’ll bring my toque,” said Gwen, brandishing her knitted hat at Ada. “We’re prepared. Come on, Dad.”
They followed a path near Ada’s house that led across a partially flooded field. They crossed a paved bicycle trail and then walked between two stiff-branched hedges. Beside the path in the middle of the next field was a cluster of white tents and tall lighting on poles with police tape draped around the whole collection. A hum of voices came from the tents, but no one was in sight. Gwen exchanged raised eyebrows with her father. When they walked closer, a security guard emerged from behind the closest tent. He held coffee in a Styrofoam cup and looked bored.
“Afternoon,” said Alan. “What’s the occasion? The weather’s a bit grim for a campout.”
“Don’t I know it,” he said glumly. “The sodding weather will be the death of me.”
“It’s nice out now,” said Gwen. The sun shone over green fields from low in the sky.
“Yeah, it is now.” The guard put emphasis on the last word. “From one minute to the next, I don’t know if it will be snowing or hailing or raining.”
“Sounds rough,” Alan agreed. “What needs to be guarded so well in a cold December field?”
“Some sort of disturbance in the air. The experts called it a localized weather event—I call it bloody odd.” The guard sniffed loudly and tucked his free hand under his arm. “It might be unsafe, so I’m here to stop people wandering into it by accident.”
Gwen frowned, then her eyes widened. Disturbance in the air? Could it be a portal? She dismissed the idea almost immediately. Just because her thoughts jumped to otherworldly portals didn’t mean that natural phenomenon weren’t more likely.
“This disturbance,” she said. “Does it come and go?”
“Might be a little smaller than when it was first discovered. It’s going nowhere fast, though.”
“Stay warm on your vigil,” said Alan. He raised a hand with a cheery wave and they continued down the path. At the edge of the field, Gwen ducked behind the hedgerow. The chance of the disturbance being a portal was slim at best, but Gwen couldn’t rest until she had ruled the possibility out.
“Make sure no one’s coming, Dad,” Gwen said. She brought her magic out from her core, envisioning Isolde as she did so. “I want to check if it’s a portal in that tent.”
“You’re going through right now?” Alan said, staring at the portal with wariness and fascination.
“I’ll just be a minute.”
Before he could protest further, Gwen ducked through the waist-high opening and entered the Otherworld.
It was bitingly cold in the snowy woods, and Gwen pulled the zipper of her coat higher. The crunch of snow under her feet was muffled by the drifts piled high beside each tree trunk.
Gwen peered behind her through the silent forest. A strange glimmer shifted in the distance. Gwen looked around quickly. Nothing stirred, so she pushed through the snow toward the glimmer.
Her feet were wet and cold by the time she reached the portal. There was no mistaking that strange tear in the fabric of the world. The white canvas of the police tent was visible through the opening. A voice spoke from the other side and Gwen froze.
“Come on, it’s time for a cuppa. This thing isn’t going anywhere fast.”
Gwen danced away from the portal until she heard footsteps, then the swish of the tent flap closing behind someone. She waited for a few moments, but when only silence greeted her ears she risked a peek. From what she could see, the tent was empty.
Gwen reached out to the edge of the portal with a frown. Shreds of material, ragged and frayed, fluttered between her fingers. Why wasn’t the portal closing? They scarcely lasted ten seconds for Gwen. Except for the one she had opened for Finn Sayward…
How would one go about closing a portal? Gwen held up the ragged strips and brought out some of her core’s magic. She thought of a mending spell she and Aidan had invented last month and applied it, to no avail. Nothing happened when she concentrated on her father or Isolde, except a slight widening of the opening.
Gwen stepped back, flummoxed. This was beyond her abilities. She trudged back through the woods, following her own footsteps. When they stopped abruptly beside a large oak, she peered around the other side.
Her father’s face appeared in the still-open portal, wearing an expression of strained relief. He held out an arm and Gwen steadied herself as she climbed through.
“Well?” Alan said. “What did you find?”
“Definitely a portal. I have no idea why it’s not closing. I tried a few things, but no luck. I just don’t know enough.”
“Gwen. You don’t think―” Alan frowned. “Those wolves on the news.”
Gwen gasped.
“Oh, no. That’s exactly what happened. They came through that portal.”
“Or another one.” Alan bent down behind Gwen. “Is this still suppo
sed to be open?”
Gwen whirled around. The edges of her portal shimmered innocently at her. Instead of waist-height, it was only up to her knees, but it was still there.
“It should have closed fully by now. What is going on?” She touched the edges of the portal and tried to pull them together. Magic poured through her hands as she desperately tried to close the opening.
Slowly, reluctantly, the hole in the fabric of the world shrank until nothing was left but air and a view of the hedgerow behind. She exchanged a worried glance with her father.
“That’s not typical, I take it?” he said.
“No. And I have no idea what to do about it.”
“Presumably the inhabitants of the Otherworld are onto it. After all, magic is their bag.” Alan pulled his gloves on tighter, then put his arm around Gwen. “Come on, let’s get back to Ada’s and warm up.”
Gwen let herself be steered away, but her mind roiled uneasily. As far as she understood, freely open portals hadn’t existed for hundreds of years. Would the Breenan want them shut again? The wild man Loniel had closed the portals initially. Was he behind their reopening? Gwen resolved to text Aidan when they arrived back at Ada’s.
***
Once Gwen and Alan passed through the willow gate leading to Ada’s snug cottage, Gwen stopped.
“Aren’t you coming in for lunch?” Alan asked.
“Give me ten minutes? I want to try something, portal-wise.” Gwen waved to the corner of the cottage, where a path led out of sight. “I’ll be in the back garden—it’s more private there.”
Alan sighed.
“You really feel the need to delve into this mystery?”
“I just want to have another quick look. I’ll be careful, I promise.” Gwen gave her father a reassuring smile, which he countered with a raised eyebrow. “Ten minutes.”
“All right, you know your business. I’ll have lunch ready when you’re done. Don’t let any wolves through, hey?”
Gwen spontaneously kissed her father on the cheek. He grumbled incoherently but gave her shoulder a squeeze on his way to the front door.
Breenan Series Box Set Page 47