The Case of the Fairy Lord

by Victoria DeLuis

  I groaned.

  “Is that a yes or a no?”

  I thought about it for a second. “It’s a yes,” I said. “But, I’ll make it. You rest.”

  “For the last time, I’m fine. You’ve healed every last part of me that hurts.”

  “I know, I know.” I jumped out of bed and flung on a T-shirt. “I want to make it, okay?”

  “Okay,” Thomas sighed. “But while you make tea, I’ll make breakfast. I’m starving.”

  “Deal.”

  The day had been a blur since leaving the warehouse. Thomas’s oath to Dureth was fulfilled, although Dureth didn’t seem too pleased with the outcome. Shame that. Although, I don’t suppose my ten thousand pound bet on Thomas to win did anything to improve his mood. Though, I must say, the feeling of taking a million from Dureth had improved my mood no end.

  I walked over to the window and squealed at the sight of a slight blanket of snow on the ground outside. “We’ve might have our white Christmas after all,” I said excitedly.

  “We’ll see. There’s still a day to go.”

  “Speaking of which, what time are your parents coming around tonight?

  “If the weather stays like this, I’ll pick them up around eight,” Thomas answered.

  “Your mother’s bringing all the food for tomorrow, right? We don’t have to pop out and get some last minute supplies.”

  “Yes and No. Yes to the mum bringing food. No to the popping out.”

  I opened the duffel-bag we’d stashed in the corner and pulled out a wad of cash. “What are we going to do with this?” I waved the money at Thomas.

  Thomas sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. “What would you say to giving it to Lee Page’s mum?”

  “What?”

  “I just... I know it won’t bring her son back. The thing is, the police are never going to catch his killer, and we sure as hell can’t tell them the full truth.”

  It broke my heart, but Thomas was right. The magical world was secret for a reason. For hundreds of years, witches were tortured, burned, or hanged. I’d like to think humanity had changed, but in my heart, I knew we hadn’t. We still feared the unknown. For every bad witch, goblin, or troll, there’s a hundred good, and history has shown that it is always the good who suffer.

  We’d told Owens about Adam being a recruiter for an underground fighting ring. We’d even given him the location of the fights without any details on who was running them, but we’d also had to warn Dureth that the human police were on their way. He’d shut up shop and sent Adam packing. All Owens found was a warehouse, decked out for fights. He’d never catch the killer and never bring Dureth to justice. There was nothing Joe and the Council could do, either. Lee had been a willing participant in his fate.

  “You definitely want to give it away?” I asked to double check, even though I was already on board with the answer.

  “It seems wrong to keep it.”

  I snaked my hands around his waist and kissed him again. “You are awesome, you know that?”

  “It’s why you love me.”

  I laughed. “It’s one of the reasons.”

  “And the others?”

  I pretended to think for a while. “You make a mean fry-up,” I said.

  “Aw, stop, you’ll make me blush. Besides, that’s just your stomach talking.”

  Before we could say any more, Thomas’s mobile rang on the bedside table. “Ignore it,” he said. “It’s probably Gwen. She won’t mind if I call her back later.”

  I stepped back and lightly hit Thomas on the arm.

  “Oww,” he said, faking pain and rubbing his arm. “What was that for?”

  “You and Gwen. I had completely forgotten the two of you were up to something.” I put my hands on my hips and gave Thomas a stern look. “It’s about time you told me what was going on.”

  “Okay, okay, stop pouting.” Thomas walked over and opened his wardrobe before pulling something out of a shoe and hiding it behind his back. “Gwen was helping me with something. I was going to wait, but today’s as good a day as ever.”

  “What something?” I asked.

  “Maybe, a little something with ivy and a whole lot of heather.”

  Ivy for creating healthy bonds and heather for strengthening the bonds of soul mates. “A proposal wreath?” I asked, a wide smile spreading on my face.

  Thomas nodded, pulled a ring box from behind his back, and presented the emerald ring inside. “I haven’t got the wreath yet, but I do have this.”

  I turned and paced the room, pretending to think. “How many times have you asked me now, six, seven?”

  “Seven.”

  “And what makes you think I’d say yes this time?”

  Thomas shrugged. “You’ll say yes, eventually.”

  “Well, I do love you.”

  “You also can’t get enough of this rocking hard body.” Thomas danced in a circle and waggled his eyebrows at me again.

  “True, true, and there is that incredible ability to produce a fry-up we mentioned.”

  “Got to think with your stomach as well as your heart.”

  I laughed. I felt like singing or dancing on air. Thomas was my whole world, and for too long, I’d resisted his desire to marry. In my experience, marriages didn’t end well — my father hadn’t stuck around long enough for me to be born — but Thomas was my soul mate. He gave me my greatest joy and also caused me my greatest worry. For the first time, I realised that marriage wouldn’t change our relationship, it would strengthen our union. Although, some change was definitely needed. Thomas needed more protection and possibly some strengthening wards, who knew when he’d have to fight a goblin again, but they could wait for a few days.

  I looked into Thomas’s deep blue eyes. My smile was so wide, it felt like my face might burst. “I would love to marry you,” I said.

  After sliding the ring on my finger, Thomas lifted me up, laid me on the bed and began tracing kisses down my neck. “You still want tea?” he asked.

  “Maybe a little later,” I said as his warm breath caressed my skin.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Thomas, his parents: Emma and Paul, and I ate an awesome Christmas dinner. Emma, as always, had gone overboard and prepared not just turkey, but beef and ham as well. Not to mention almost fifty pigs in blankets. I had to change straight into a snuggly jumper and some slacks as soon as we’d finished my stomach was that full.

  Thomas’s mum and dad had been buzzing about our engagement all day. You could almost hear the cogs turning in Emma’s head as she went through ideas for the wedding. I think she may have secretly wanted a girl. I guess, with boys, you don’t get to do all the fun planning or picking out a dress. I wish my mum had shared the same enthusiasm. As seems to be her new modas operandi, she hung up on me as soon as I told her the news.

  I poured myself a lemonade and joined Emma on the couch, while Paul and Thomas sat in the two armchairs. We talked for hours. Paul was super happy when Thomas shared a beer with him. It was only half a can, and it was light beer, but it was the first alcoholic drink they’d shared in as long as I could remember. Thomas even indulged his father in a little talk about the footie before Paul asked to watch the Queen’s speech on TV and then promptly fell asleep.

  “You can’t do that!” Emma shouted when I suggested getting married in the forest.

  “Why not?”

  “Well, for starters, it’s the venue that holds the licence not a person, and to get a licence that venue has to be a permanent structure with a roof.”

  “Not that she’s looked into the details or anything,” Thomas said, chuckling.

  I kept my smile in place, but something about my manner must have belied my disappointment as he soon sobered. “You know what we could do, though,” he said as he topped up my lemonade and handed his mother another glass of white wine.

  “What?” I asked.

  “We could have one ceremony for legal purposes and another in the forest for us.”
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br />   “Two ceremonies,” his mother said. “Won’t that be a lot to plan?”

  “Not really.” There was wisdom in Thomas’s idea. “You could take control of the legal ceremony,” I said to Emma.

  “I wouldn’t want to overstep my bounds,” she said, although her eyes lit up at the suggestion.

  “Not at all. Go nuts, as big and grand as you want. I’m sure it will be fabulous. That will leave me plenty of time to plan a smaller forest ceremony.”

  I could already picture Thomas and I standing beneath a magnificent hawthorn tree, with rush candles and coloured fabric in amongst its branches. The hawthorn had given us our first heart connection, introduced Thomas to the world of magic, and showed me that he would accept me for who I was. I couldn’t think of a more fitting place for a ceremony.

  “We’ll have to think of the guest list,” Emma said.

  My heart sank and I stiffened. To have the ceremony I wanted, I’d have to keep the guests to a very strict list for my woodland wedding. “Would it be okay if we invite everyone to the legal ceremony, but just keep the forest ceremony to a few select guests?” I asked.

  “It’s your wedding,” Emma said. “But why wouldn't you want to share both days with everyone.”

  Thomas sat on the edge of the chair next to his mother. “You know why, Mum.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  Paul lifted his head. “Magic,” he said, and waved his hands hypnotically through the air. “You know, all the weird hippy stuff these two are in to. They might not want to share it with everyone.”

  “I thought you were asleep.” Emma shook her head.

  “Just resting my eyes.”

  “Hmm,” Emma said before turning back to me. “People know you’re a little eccentric, dear, that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  I laughed and Thomas rolled his eyes. It was a standing joke between us that no matter how many times we’d told his mum magic was real, she always seemed to forget, or more than likely, had a mental block in believing it. I wasn’t one for doing parlour tricks, but Emma and Paul would have to be at the forest wedding — we couldn’t have it without them — so, they’d have to learn to accept the idea that magic existed. I wouldn’t want Emma to faint at anything she saw during the ceremony.

  “Okay,” I said, standing and removing my jumper. “Are you ready for this?”

  Paul opened his eyes again, and Emma looked at me as though I’d gone slightly mad, as I stood there in my vest.

  “Let me hold this.” Thomas took the wine glass from his mother’s hand in case she dropped it. “This is top secret, mind,” he reminded them when I nodded to him and took a deep breath.

  We’d discussed the possibility of showing them my magic a million times when words had proven insufficient, but the opportune time had never arisen. I bit my inner lip. If they were ever going to look at me as a member of their family, they needed to see and believe the truth.

  “Okay,” I said and tried to ignore the thumping of my heart. I opened myself to my magic, allowing it to course through my body. All twenty of my tattoos blazed to life on my arms, bathing me in a blue light. I stood there shrouded in energy and lit up brighter than the Christmas tree.

  Emma gasped.

  “See, told you she wasn’t a loony,” Paul said.

  I raised my eyebrows at that and Thomas laughed.

  “I never... ever said that,” Emma blustered.

  “No, no, it’s fine,” I said. “I’d think I was a loony, too, if I didn’t know magic was one-hundred percent real.”

  “Well, I know magic is real and I still think she’s a loony,” Thomas said, walking over and giving me a kiss. “It’s why I love her.”

  I released my magic and gave him a stern look. “I think you’ve called me both a loony and unhinged in the last couple of days. You want to watch your manners before I turn you into a frog.”

  Thomas laughed, but his mum looked petrified.

  “Just kidding,” I said sheepishly.

  “It’s okay, Mum.” Thomas handed his mother her wine glass back. “Take a swig. Summer can’t really turn me into a frog, can you?”

  I thought about it for a moment. “Maybe with some aspen for transformation, birch for renewal, and willow to give me the vision. Oh, and we’d need a frog, of course. We could give it a try.”

  Emma giggled slightly madly.

  “Don’t wind her up,” Thomas warned, tutting and shaking his head.

  “Okay, okay. I’m sorry,” I said, although I was mentally running through the spell in my head and wondering if it would work. Just because I’d never done it before, doesn’t mean I couldn’t. The pwca can change shape at will, so the magic is out there to be done, I would just need to figure out a way to tap into it.

  “I think you’re right,” Emma said at last. “A small select ceremony in the forest would be best. I think you’re Great-Aunt Betty would have a heart attack if she saw anything like that.”

  We were still laughing when we heard a car pull up outside. Thomas walked to the door to see who could be calling, while I went to the kitchen to fetch another bottle of wine.

  “Summer,” Thomas called. “You’d better come here.”

  “Who is—” The bottle fell from hands and shattered, spraying glass and wine all over the floor. My hand flew to my mouth and tears flooded my eyes.

  “Mam,” I said, not believing it to be truly her.

  She hadn’t changed. Not one bit in eight years. She was a classic beauty with high cheekbones and rich auburn hair. Green eyes a mirror of my own looked back at me.

  Mam laid her bag at her feet and ran over to wrap me in a hug.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked. “You... you never said you were coming.”

  Mam smoothed the hair from my face and wiped the tears from my eyes even though she was crying, too. “Oh, my baby girl,” she said. “I’m so, so sorry I left. Sorry for everything. You are in so much trouble.” She turned to Thomas. “You both are, but I’m here to help.”

  “Help,” I muttered.

  “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be okay.” She said the words, but even to my confused ears, they sounded hollow

  *

  Continue reading The Case of the Family Curse, the full-length conclusion to the Rune Witch Mysteries

  Chapter One

  An air of mystique hung around the medieval ruins as thick as the shrouding fog.

  “You sure about this?” Thomas asked when I reached out to take his hand.

  I nodded, although I was anything but and Thomas knew it.

  Set amongst rolling meadows, Raglan Castle may not have stood as proud as it once did — the ravages of war and time having taken their toll — but its presence and majesty could never be called into question. As we walked over the stone bridge leading to the castle, I became transfixed by the massive Yellow Tower of Gwent. Even with the sandstone pitted and scarred, the walls missing and the battlements destroyed, it cut a striking image.

  Hand in hand, we entered the main castle through the double-towered gatehouse. Moonlight speckled the craggy, tumble down walls in a silver sheen and added to the sense that we were stepping back in time... entering another world.

  As we stood in the pitched stone court, the hair on the back of my neck stood up. Beside me, Thomas stiffened, ready to fight if the need arose. The castle may be a tourist attraction by day, but by night, the coraniaid roamed the battlements. Once described as a demon plague, the remnants of their society now lurked in the shadows, forgotten by the world.

  “Where are they?” Thomas asked.

  “Everywhere.”

  I took a deep breath and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach. In the courtyard, we were surrounded... vulnerable. We had to be to entice the creatures out.

  A strange scampering sound accompanied the howl of the wind — to the right; another behind. My scalp prickled and my skin crawled.

  “Damn it. I’ve had enough of playing games.
” I called my magic, igniting the power in each of my twenty tattoos, and allowed them to turn me into a human light bulb. The glow from my body bathed the castle in an indigo light.

  A chorus of hoots and shrieks echoed around the courtyard, but the coraniaid stayed hidden.

  “There!” Thomas pointed to a bardic figure in the corner.

  The apparition beckoned us before fading from sight. “The guardian spirit of the castle library.” I’d read about the famous librarian ghost during my research. “He watches over his cache of precious scrolls and tomes. He won’t bother us.”

  Thomas shook his head at another everyday spectral visitation. “You sure we want to deal with these guys?” he asked for the umpteenth time. “There are plenty of other ways we can get what we need.”

  Before I had the chance to respond, a creature leapt from its unknown hiding place and landed silently on the floor in front of us. A coraniaid: small, pointed creatures, no bigger than a bwchachod or five-year-old child.

  “Whatss do you needs, little witchess?” the creature hissed as it stared at me with eyes that looked as though they might pop out of its head.

  I glanced around the ruins. None of the other coraniaid showed themselves, but they were there, watching and listening.

  “I’m Summer Daniels. Rune Witch of the Ogham faith, and I have need of your magic.”

  Mocking laughter sounded from every direction. The coraniaid before us bobbed and shook his head.

  “We knowss who you are, little witchess. Knowss what you are.” He tilted his head to the side and squinted his eyes, as though assessing me. “I am Moryss,” he said after a moment. “Whyss do you needs our magicss?”

  “You can hear any word the wind touches. I need to use your power to hear words spoken long ago. Will you give it to me?”

  “Whyss should we?” Morys asked.

  My whole plan hinged on the hatred the coraniaid held for the Tylwyth Teg. They may be evil, malevolent beings, who were far more dangerous to deal with than any of the fair folk, but I wasn’t here to make a deal. I was here to offer them something they craved.