by LJ Rivers
Llewellyn greeted them both with firm handshakes and a couple of nods. “Well, then, I think I’ll have a word with Rhys before I take you all to meet Lili.” He lumbered down to the car with Kit prancing at his heels and engaged in a quiet conversation with Rhys. Another cat snuck across the patio and proceeded to move carefully down the steps. Its reddish fur caught the light of the evening sun as it continued at a leisurely pace, possibly due to either his weight or his age. My money was on both. It meowed, catching Kit’s attention. My cat turned to the sound, spotted the fat furball, and bounced away from Llewellyn to greet the newcomer. Kit made circles around his new friend, then leaned into him, and the two cats disappeared around the corner.
By the car, the men pointed at the barn in turn, and Llewellyn made elaborate gestures with his hands, as if air-painting a picture. Rhys was nearly a head taller than my grandfather, with broader shoulders and a generous belly, but despite Llewellyn’s age and slender build, he held himself with grace and authority. How strange that I had stayed with my grandparents’ friends and not known that they were only a short distance away.
“Your grandfather seems sweet,” Charlie said.
Jen clawed at a chipped nail, out of place among the nine others, which were all manicured and painted in a light purple shade. “He does, though I would have thought he knew better than to send me, an Alpha, to this Hopkins bloke. It’s not like I can just walk into another Alpha’s house unannounced.”
“I’m sure he meant well.”
“I’m sure he did.” Jen sighed, tearing off the edge of her broken nail and inspecting the remains. “Your grandfather does seem like a nice man, Red.”
“Mum said they were both good people,” I said. “A bit set in their ways, but what can one expect, given the life they’ve led?”
Llewellyn waved as Rhys turned the car around and puttered back to the road. My grandfather joined us on the patio once more and showed us inside.
My heart clenched the moment I stepped over the threshold. A bowl full of lemons sat on a dresser in the hallway, providing a fresh and familiar scent to the room. Next to it, in a wooden frame, was a picture of Mum. She wore a sun-coloured dress and was waving at the camera. Her hair was braided over one shoulder, the tip swinging by her waist.
My grandfather pulled at his braces and puffed a heavy sigh. “She was twelve,” he said, “and she had just cast the most marvellous sphere of light across the field. You can see the pride in her face. We had never seen anything like it. While I can produce force fields, I cannot conjure light. She was very special, my Elaine.”
I choked up, unable to breathe another word.
“Let’s leave your luggage here for a moment,” Llewellyn said. “Lili is beside herself. She’s been counting the seconds until you got here.”
We left our belongings and trailed after him through the house and out a double glass door to a back balcony. Surrounded by a massive stone rail, it provided a mesmerising view of the sloping landscape and the fields beyond.
“Lili Helene.” My grandfather kneeled by a wheelchair on one end of the balcony and took my grandmother’s hand. “She’s here.”
The woman in the chair turned her head slowly in my direction, and my heart twisted with recognition, love, and regret. She looked exactly like Mum, apart from the hair and the roundness of her cheeks. She might have been around sixty, but her hair was still red, same as mine, with only a few white strands clawing through it. Her eyes seemed to carry through me, piercing my very soul. And then her lips widened, and a multitude of wrinkles contracted around her mouth, bearing witness to a life lived with a smile on her face. She, too, radiated magic, and again my power ignited to blend with hers.
“Guinevere,” she said. “Oh, how I have dreamt of this moment. Let me look at you, annwyl.”
Guinevere. She had used my middle name, just like in the letters. I took a step closer, and my grandmother frowned.
“Llew, I see your face every minute of every day. Could you move so I can see Fy Wyres. And do put the kettle on. We have guests.”
My grandfather grunted but patted her hand. “Of course, fy cariad, I’ll do that.” He stood and walked past Jen and Charlie, who remained by the doorway.
“Ah, you’re everything my mind could conjure, and more,” Lili said. “The power is strong in you.” She grabbed weakly at my wrists but failed to hold them. “Can you create light?”
“Uhm, no,” I said. “It’s really nice to meet you, though.”
Her smile faded for a moment when her eyes drifted to my friends. “You brought company, I see.”
“They knew Mum.”
“Here for the Hanfod Chario, then. It gives me great joy to know she was loved.”
“Very much so. Mum touched many people through her work, and she was an amazing mother.”
“I have no doubt.” The words fell like molasses from her mouth. “She was always running around helping anyone in her path. We had a fire in the church back when she was about seven or eight. It was packed with Magicals, and there were a lot of injured among them. My Elaine had wrapped herself in a force field when the fire broke out and was unharmed, but she took it upon herself to heal everyone she could lay her hands on. She went from one person to the next for the longest time, spending her energy freely. So much so that she eventually ran her young Magical well dry. She wasn’t able to heal again for the entirety of the next day.” Lili drew a ragged breath. “That day, she was playing with her best friend, Alys. They had ventured far up the treeline you see in the horizon. Her friend had a terrible accident. She fell from a tree and hit her head, the poor thing. Elaine tried, but couldn’t heal her. Instead, she dragged her friend all the way back to the house, but by the time she returned, Alys was already dead.”
A tear rolled down my cheek. That was how Mum had learned how important it was to preserve energy. I put my hands on Lili’s. She twitched a little at my touch, but kept smiling. Her gaze, however, drifted, suddenly unable to hold mine. Next to her chair was an all too familiar object. A wooden tripod on wheels, as opposed to the metal equipment I was used to. A nearly empty bag of nutrition was hooked on the tripod, just next to a clear bag half full with water. IV tubes hung in hoops from the bags and disappeared down the collar of Lili’s maroon blouse. Her legs were too thin for her body, limp and lifeless. Something was terribly wrong with her.
“Tea, anyone?” Llewellyn asked, re-entering the balcony. He set the tray he was holding down on a round table at the other end of the balcony, inviting us all to sit.
I hesitated, still holding Lili’s hands, though she didn’t respond to my touch.
“It’s all right, Guinevere. Go now.” My grandmother slowly turned her head to stare out over the landscape yet again.
Reluctantly, I rose and went to sit with the girls and my grandfather.
“What’s wrong with her?” I asked quietly.
Llewellyn took a deep breath and poured tea into our cups. “I wish I knew. She’s fading away from me, and despite my healing power, I cannot restore her. Iwan, Mari’s second cousin that is, has never seen anything like it. And he’s our iachau dyn, like a doctor, you might say. He says it’s not common for Mags to get this sort of disease. He has concluded that she has some sort of muscle deterioration. About a month ago, she stopped being able to eat or drink on her own, save for some soup or broth now and then, and at times she has trouble speaking. If it wasn’t for her magic, Iwan says she would likely be dead by now. Her blood, however, is strong, and it fuels her with energy.”
“I—I’m so sorry.”
Charlie drummed her fingers lightly on the table. She opened and closed her mouth a few times.
“Yes? Charlie, is it?” Llewellyn said.
“That’s right.”
“You look like there’s something on your tongue.”
Charlie adjusted her glasses. “Well, if you don’t mind me weighing in, it sounds a lot like she has ALS.”
“She doesn’t,”
Llewellyn said firmly.
“Has the iachau dyn mentioned ALS at all?”
“I don’t think he is familiar with modern terms and medicine, Charlie. We deal in herbs and natural remedies.”
“But—”
Llewellyn held a hand up, silencing my friend. “I understand you think the world has moved on, and that modern somehow means better. Technology somehow means superior, and anyone who chooses to live as we do is in the wrong. We have lived this way ever since we first stepped foot in this world, and we take care of each other and our own. We have several Magical healers, and we have yet to come across a disease like this. It’s simply unheard of in Perllanafal, until my Lili. It was, however, inevitable. As the world evolves, nature changes, we change. This is part of the evolution bound to happen, even to us. We have kept the Magicals of this town safe because we refuse to adhere to the so-called advancements of science and technology. If there is a cure for my Lili, it does not lie outside our borders.”
Charlie clamped her mouth shut, even though I knew she wanted to protest.
“Can she walk at all?” Jen asked.
“She did take a step now and then up until about three months ago. Her legs no longer hold her.”
“Let us know if there’s anything we can do to help while we’re here.” I squeezed Charlie’s knee under the table. “I’ve worked some summers on a farm in Chester, and my friends here are both pretty resourceful.”
“I appreciate the offer,” Llewellyn said, “and I’ll let you know. Another great thing about this town is that everyone pitches in. Hopkins’ pack usually comes by to help with the heavy lifting, but I must say I’m honoured to have another wolf at my table. I could certainly use her strength.”
“Oh, I’ll lift,” Jen said. “Just don’t ask me to milk a cow or herd the sheep.”
Chapter Nine
“That was the best stew I’ve ever had.” Charlie patted her stomach and gave Llewellyn a contented grin.
The candles flickered slightly from the draught by the window, but the crackling fire gave the room plenty of warmth.
“I’m glad you think so.” Llewellyn stroked Lili’s cheek, and she beamed at him with the kind of smile that, despite her tired face, gave her eyes life. “The kitchen used to be Lili’s domain, and I’m afraid I could never quite match her cooking skills. However, the ingredients are courtesy of the farmers in Perllanafal. We grow potatoes and many of the herbs ourselves and trade for whatever else we need. For instance, the beef comes from the Griffith’s farm, whereas the carrots and leeks are from the Thomas’.”
I got up and began clearing the table. “Thank you for a lovely meal.”
The girls followed my lead. My grandparents didn’t have a dishwasher, so we had to do it all by hand. Jen rinsed the plates and soaked everything in water. I cleaned it and handed it to Charlie, who dried each item and set them back where they belonged. There was something simple but soothing about the process, and though I would have liked my phone to work, a life without technology had a certain appeal.
“It’s growing dark.” Llewellyn glanced out the window, then turned to my grandmother. “Would you mind if I went outside to light the lanterns?”
“Could you leave it tonight?” Lili asked in a shaky voice.
Charlie placed the last spoon into a crooked drawer next to the sink. “Why don’t you let Jen and me do it?”
“Oh, I’m not sure that’s wise.” Llewellyn regarded her with a tilt of his head. “It’s dark out, and you don’t know my land.”
Jen stretched on her toes. “We’re happy to help, and my eyes work just fine in the dark.”
“Say yes, Llew,” Lili said.
My grandfather nodded. “Well, then, if it’s not too much trouble.”
The girls followed my grandfather to the hallway where he gave them instructions. The door clicked shut and my grandfather returned to the kitchen.
“Would you like to come with me, please?” he asked me. “And bring Lili with you.”
“Sure.” I grabbed hold of Lili’s wheelchair and followed Llewellyn through the hall and into a dark room in the far end of the house. He lit a match, and a lantern above a small coffee table came to life.
A trembling hand folded over mine. “Would you place me by the window, Guinevere?” my grandmother asked.
“Of course.”
A light flared into existence just outside, and the lantern cast a gloomy light across the pathway. I caught a glimpse of my friends as they continued down the path to the barn. In the corner of the room, my grandfather fed the fireplace. Lili sighed heavily and stared out the window while I went to sit by the coffee table.
As the fire and light danced across the walls, the room revealed itself. A wooden desk stood across from me, scrolls littering the top of it. Bookcases lined the walls. I smiled and inhaled the scents of ink, ash, and leather. This had to be my grandfather’s study. My grandmother jerked once, then closed her eyes and fell into a faint, rhythmic snore. Shadows deepened her furrowed skin, and she seemed so fragile with the steel-blue light of the evening painting her face.
“She used to be full of life,” Llewellyn said as he sat across from me. “She was always so strong, my Lili. Always on her feet. She went out of her way to help our neighbours, and she even sat on the town council. The Morgana name used to mean something to the people of Perllanafal.” He squared his jaw and retrieved a pipe from the coffee table between us with trembling hands.
“Sounds like you’ve had a good life here.”
He ground tobacco between his coarse fingers and proceeded to stuff it into the pipe. “As good as an earthly life can get for those of our kind, I suppose.”
I glanced at the bookcases, squinting to read the spines on the books closest to me. Charlie would go mental in here. She loved books, and though most of these seemed to be written in Welsh, there were a fair few in English, and I even spotted some Spanish titles. Mostly, though, the books looked old and rare. There were no contemporary titles on the shelves, no Stephen King or Margaret Atwood, although both Shakespeare and Hemingway made an appearance. Mostly, it looked like history books.
“You like to read, I gather. Charlie studies history, even though she’s signed up for more tech courses next year. I’m sure the two of you would find some common ground,” I commented.
“Tech courses?” He snorted. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about that, and my interest with history lies mainly in ours, that of Magicals on Earth, rather than the history of Earth itself.” He lit his pipe and smacked his lips on the end piece. He would have been all over the book hiding in my suitcase upstairs. I almost went to get it, but William’s words cautioned me. I wasn’t supposed to show it to anyone, and that included Llewellyn.
“I wish Mum was here,” I said instead.
“So do I, annwyl. But, alas, she did not believe in our ways. Elaine was always headstrong and stubborn. A common trait for any Morgana, that is true, but she was never truly satisfied with the simple life we lead here. She wanted to go to university to become a doctor. We always said she could stay right here and be the healer she was, yet it was never good enough for her. So, we allowed her to leave to see the outside world for herself and to decide if it was truly better, as she thought it would be. Then, of course, she met Dennis. Even after those horrific Harvesters tried to drain her dry, she still wanted to live outside our borders. She was with child—with you—when she came to see us last.”
“And you turned her away.” I couldn’t hide the accusation in my voice.
“We told her she was welcome to stay here with you.”
My throat constricted. “You—you did?”
“Yes, but we also told her that Dennis could not.” He shook his head and a stream of smoke drifted out of his nostrils. “That was on us, but a human in this town does not fare well. We keep to ourselves, and we do not wish to be bothered by the outside world. Half or not, however, you are a Morgana, and we wanted to raise you as one. To teac
h you the full weight and meaning of your name. Your mother disagreed. She made the choice to have a child with a human, knowing how it would hurt your grandmother, and how a human could never stay in Perllanafal for long.”
“They loved each other,” I said.
“I suppose they did. We loved her too, and she knew exactly how important it was to us that she kept the Morgana line pure.”
I stared at my grandfather. He seemed sincere, even if his views were rigid and belonged to a different age. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see why. What does it matter if the Morgana line is pure or not?” My grandfather and I might have different views on what it meant to be a Pure, but I wasn’t about to get into an argument when we had just met.
“Oh, it matters a great deal. The key, you see, has to be in the Morgana blood. Though Lili couldn’t open the porth, it is believed that only a Morgana can, and that only one of pure blood may take us home. Your bloodline has been the ruling force in our town ever since we first stepped foot on this land, treated with respect and reverence. One day, it is told, a child would be born who could take us all back. Without a Pure Morgana, that hope was crushed.”
If he only knew. “It’s superstition. There is no saviour who will bring you to the promised land. This is it.”
“So you think.”
I clenched my jaw, as I didn’t wish to get into an argument with my grandfather. “Charlie was right, you know. Modern medicine might help Lili heal.”
He shook his head. “And what do you think would happen to her once they tested her blood? We get the newspaper delivered here once a month, and I’ve seen the destruction and the hatred against our kind.”
He had me there. One look at Lili’s blood and Harvesters would be all over her. I let the subject be and turned my eyes to the books. My gaze locked on an old, leather-bound spine, and my eyes rounded. “What is that one?” I pointed.
“Which one?”
“The leather-bound book with the gold symbol on it.”
