Ruby Morgan Box Set: Books 6-10

by LJ Rivers

  “Ah, that.” Rivulets of smoke clouded my grandfather as he went over to the far end of the bookcase. I had half a mind to tell him smoking was bad for him, but I expected he already knew. He took a careful grip around the book and returned to sit opposite me. Stroking it, he leaned back and inhaled deeply. “Want to look at it?”

  “Please.”

  He handed me the book, and I gently flipped it open. The trinity symbol from Avalon was painted on the first page.

  “Lili was an excellent painter,” Llewellyn said. “This here contains my research on Avalonians on Earth. It’s extensive, though fairly limited in accuracy, I’m afraid.”

  “I’ve seen this symbol before,” I said quietly. “The Trinity symbol, right?”

  “The well, the chalice, and the key.” The smell of tobacco was oddly sweet as he blew a series of smoke rings out. “We here in Perllanafal do not refer to it as the trinity symbol. Here, it is the symbol of the Lady of the Lake. The people here once believed that Nimue would one day come and save us all.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  “I believe there is a chance we might one day return to Avalon. If by Nimue’s doing … or someone else’s. For the longest time, I’ve thought that the key might lie in the Morgana bloodline, though Lili was never able to open the porth.”

  “The portal?”

  His eyes lit up. “Oh, yes. How else did we arrive here in the first place? There has to be a porth, and I believe I know exactly where it is. Or where it was, at least.”

  I frowned, as I had started to have suspicions of my own. “Why do you want to open it?”

  “It used to be a mere curiosity. Now, however, with Lili Helene as poorly as she is, I would like to take her home. Our real home. She might not survive in this world, but if we could only get to the fountain and the water of life, I’m confident she would pull through.”

  Aqua Vitae. I didn’t have the chalice anymore, but I remembered the words on the box I had found it in.

  “The fountain of youth? That’s a legend, though, don’t you think?”

  “It may have changed somewhat over the years, but it is there. Our people have told the stories through generations since we first settled here, and though the years may have altered the stories, they are all based on facts.”

  My visit to the cave on Bardsey Island with my father flashed in my mind. Had Auberon known where we were? Did he believe, as my grandfather did, that the portal could somehow be opened again? If one only had the key?

  I opened my mouth to speak when someone rapped on the door. It slid open and Jen stuck her head inside. “Sorry to interrupt. The lanterns are all lit, but we were wondering where we might rest our heads for the night.”

  “Of course.” Llewellyn put his pipe down on a holder on the table. “I suppose it’s bedtime for the lot of us. Come with me.”

  I placed the leather-bound book back on the shelf, my eyes lingering on the symbol for a moment. The chalice, the well … and the key.

  Chapter Ten

  The hint of salt from the sea joined the sweet scent of roses as I stepped out on the patio. I guessed the temperature hadn’t quite reached double figures yet, but that only added to the freshness of the morning. My Fitbit told me it was only 6.07. An indistinct voice came from the stables. If I went to talk to my grandfather, I might disrupt some morning feeding routine he had with the horses. Instead, I stretched my arms above my head and felt the joints in my body almost snap into place. Four hours of sleep, and still I felt relaxed. The sorrow in my heart was still present, like a numbing pain that would never quite let go, but one I was getting used to.

  Alone.

  And yet, I wasn’t. I had my grandparents now, and I wanted to get to know them as much as I could during my stay here in Perllanafal. Lili didn’t have many years left, at least not if Charlie’s layman’s diagnosis of ALS was correct. She might live, but I had heard and read enough about the disease to know she would soon be unable to speak at all. It was only a few months back that Jen, Char, and I had watched Eddie Redmayne portray Stephen Hawking’s deterioration. Based on my grandfather’s views on modern technology, it wasn’t likely that my grandmother would be controlling her speech-generator with her cheeks. Instead, she would simply wither and die.

  Tears veiled my eyes as I jogged down the gravel road to the gate. I wiped them off, opened the gate and started towards the town centre. As I ran along the fence, a few grazing sheep bid me a good morning with their baaing and jingling bells. Rain clouds were gathering to the west, just as Llewellyn had predicted. If his forecast was to be believed, there would be showers in the early afternoon, followed by more sunshine for the remainder of the weekend.

  The small, picturesque town was slowly waking up. I passed the hotel where Auberon and I had enjoyed our pancakes. A woman and a little girl crossed the street, the girl shielding her eyes from the first rays of sun that had managed to penetrate the morning mist. Their auras were so strong that they might as well have been wearing large badges with ‘Pixies’ stamped on them. I had learned to distinguish between Pure Mags’ auras and those of mixed origins. And although these looked brighter than any I had seen before, even on Pure Mags like Tabitha and Gemma, I knew it was more because I had honed my skills.

  As I passed the last house on the left, I stole a glance or two through the windows, but couldn’t tell if Mari and Rhys were awake yet. As I would see them for dinner later, I kept running.

  The street turned into a gravel road a hundred yards after the Wogans’ house, and it went uphill towards a small forest. I figured I could take a detour off the road before I entered the trees and cut through the fields above the town. It might take some crisscrossing, but the general direction pointed back to the main road and my grandparents’ house. I started to have regrets about running down to the town first, as my legs would have to pay the price of going uphill. Usually, I’d welcome the burning sensation in my muscles, but I didn’t have that energy today.

  Positive thoughts, Ru.

  That was easier said than done. A therapist might say that I had made progress, and that I was coping with Mum’s death better now than only a week ago. And maybe they’d be right. I’d still break down and cry at the most minute detail. Anything could remind me of her. The night before I left for Perllanafal, I’d been sitting on the swing, looking at the symbols in William’s book, when a duck alighted on our pond. There was nothing connecting the scene directly with Mum, but watching the bird ruffling its feathers and settling calmly on the surface had pushed me over the edge. I assumed it was the association with Mum’s not so gentle descent into the Thames, but that wasn’t the point. It could just as easily have been a magpie landing in a tree or Kit chasing a butterfly.

  I had to think positive, focus on the fact that I was able to run at all. My feet didn’t pound the gravel, and I didn’t keep a quick pace as I ran uphill. But I was running. Mum would have wanted me to live my life and not wallow in my misery. Easier said than done, but I had to try.

  Something was off.

  I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. It was quiet, but that was to be expected at this early hour. Most likely that would change in a couple of weeks, when the tourists arrived. According to the Visit Wales website, which Charlie had perused, of course, Perllanafal would open up for a few weeks in July and August.

  But it wasn’t the silence itself that gave me unease. Besides, there were sounds. A seagull squealing in the distance, and the morning breeze caressing the golden barley on the field to my left.

  That was it. There were sounds.

  Sounds that would normally be lost to me, as my ears would be filled with music from one of my exercise playlists. Somehow—perhaps my subconscious had played a part—I had left my earbuds in the side pocket of my bag, without thinking about it. Instead of Pink drowning the sounds of the world, my brain was experiencing the sensory overload of the humming engine from a fishing boat leaving the small harbour behind me, the porcupine r
ustling in the grass by the road, and the low, familiar growl of a wolf up ahead.

  Where I had planned to turn left across the fields, I entered the forest instead, following the sound of the wolf’s growl.

  “Jen?” I called, my feet silently thanking me for slowing to a walk.

  My voice worked as a mute button. Grinding to a halt, my muscles tensed, and I formed two tiny orbs in my palms. My ears were prickling, searching for any hint of the wolf, which I now feared wasn’t Jen after all. Even the leaves on the trees seemed to have stopped swaying. I held my breath.

  An ear-shattering roar travelled through the woods behind me. I turned and expanded the orb in my left hand to a large force field, encapsulating me from top to bottom. In my right palm, a fireball the size of an apple lay ready.

  A silver-grey wolf sauntered out from between two tree trunks, ten yards up the road. Sunbeams fell through the leaves and played on its magnificent fur. Jen was the biggest wolf I had ever seen, but this one was at least half a foot taller from paw to shoulders.

  “Stay back!” I said, displaying the fireball.

  The orange and yellow flames reflected in the wolf’s eyes, enhancing the fire that was already there. It canted its head, regarding me, sniffing the air to get my scent’s signature.

  Two more wolves emerged behind it, both significantly smaller, but clearly of the same heritage, judging by their furs’ silver hue.

  Crap!

  I could handle all of them, if push came to shove, but I had no desire to hurt them.

  “My name is Ruby,” I said. “Llewellyn and Lili Helene are my grand—”

  “It’s OK, Red.”

  I jumped at the sound of Jen’s voice.

  “They’re with me.”

  I spun around. Jen stood there, buck naked and donning a feral grin that could easily fit her in her animal form too. “You scared me,” I said, breathing heavily.

  “Sorry. I had to shift so I could talk to you, and I didn’t want them to see me like this quite yet.”

  Only now did I notice she kept moving to stay behind me, covering her most intimate parts with her arms and hands.

  “We’ve been out roaming, getting to know each other,” she continued. “They’re going to your grandparents’ house to help with some of the heavier labour. See you there?”

  “S-sure.” I shifted my head from side to side to look at the lupine trio up the road.

  The smaller of them had positioned herself next to the big one, her tail wagging slowly from side to side. I retracted my force field and the fireball, keeping both close to the surface of my skin in case I had to recall them.

  “If you don’t mind, I’ll slip into something more appropriate,” Jen said. “Later, Red.”

  I would never tire of watching her shift. The first time I had seen it, I was a bit repulsed by it all. Now, however, I enjoyed every second of it. Her eyes held my gaze as they changed into the almond shape of the wolf’s. Her classic Hollywood features of high cheekbones and lush lips vanished, only to be replaced by the equally beautiful face of a white wolf. She trotted past me, rubbing against my legs and allowing me to caress the fur behind her ears, before letting out a short, dog-like bark. The other wolves responded in kind, and within a few seconds, they all bolted into the woods, leaving me to once again pick up the various sounds of nature.

  The farm had sprung to life during my absence, which didn’t come as a surprise. I had worked my share at Mr Durham’s farm back home in Chester to know how early farmers get up. I closed the gate behind me and gave in to my legs’ pleas for mercy, walking the last steps up to the house. Kit came running to me, and I scooped him up. He purred as I nestled my nose into his fur.

  “I thought you would be out and about, you little beauty,” I said. “Checking out the area and maybe catching some breakfast.”

  I put him back on the ground and waved at my grandfather, who was standing outside the stables. He was holding one of his horses while a young man was fastening some straps to it. Jen held the other horse, waiting for its turn to be strapped.

  “What’s that?” I pointed at the contraption to which the horses were being fastened.

  A long, red metal bar stretched between them, hanging two feet off the ground by a series of chains that were connected to the harnesses on the horses. At the back of the bar, about six feet behind the animals, was a seat, raised between two wheels. On the side, just in front of the right wheel, was another metal bar, this one pointing straight up. It had to be at least eight feet tall, with jagged edges.

  “It looks like something out of a medieval chamber of horrors,” I said.

  My grandfather laughed. “I’m sorry to disappoint you. This is a sickle mower, and I’ve finally got it back in shape. Well, thanks to young Rhod here, that is.” He nodded at the boy who was busy connecting the final links of chain to Jen’s horse. “And his cousin, Osian.”

  “No bother, Mr Morgana,” said a voice to my right. “You want us to start at the north field? Might make it easier to gather the hay later.”

  “That sounds about right,” my grandfather said. “Hang on a second, and I’ll get you some water.” He wandered past me and went inside the main house.

  Jen whispered in the horse’s ear, then turned to me with a smile. “She knows what I am, but she’s not afraid. I guess these guys have shown her that they won’t harm her or her foal.”

  Rhod and Osian nodded at me. “We don’t touch any of the farm animals,” said Rhod and pointed behind me. “Or pets.”

  I turned to look. Kit was chasing a butterfly, jumping impressively high into the air, but still missing his prey.

  “So, where’s the third?” I asked. “I assume it was you I met in the forest?”

  “You mean Lowri?” Osian, the younger of the two boys asked. “She’s inside, helping Mrs Morgana with her breakfast.”

  “Oh.” I felt a sudden pang of guilt. That should have been me, but I hadn’t thought she would be up this early. “That’s very kind of her.”

  Osian shrugged. “Think nothing of it. Wee one don’t fancy the heavy lifting much. Not that she’ll have to, once we’re married.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “You’re getting married? That’s … nice.” Albeit a bit young. He couldn’t be more than eighteen, and who knew how old wee one was?

  “Not until she’s of age, of course,” said the young Shifter. “In a couple of years.”

  “Is Charlie up yet?” I asked Jen, wanting to change the subject.

  She showed me her palms. “I don’t know. Haven’t been inside since I went out at around four o’clock.”

  I inclined my head at the boys. “But you’ve been busy already. Made new friends, and all.”

  The two Shifters were both at least six feet tall, with Rhod maybe a year or two older than Osian. Both muscular, but not bulky. More like what I would expect from someone working long hours at a farm, lifting, pushing and carrying fence poles, equipment and whatnot.

  “Something like that.” A hint of a smile played on her lips.

  It seemed she had added more wolves to her pack. I wondered if they knew she wasn’t a Pure.

  “Who’s Charlie?” Osian asked. “And why is he still in bed? The day is already here, and there’s lots to be done.”

  The big sister in me awoke with a start. “She’s just not used to this lifestyle.”

  “Charlie’s a she?” Rhod laughed. “Well, I guess that’s how it is in the big cities. What is she?”

  “The smartest person I know.” My voice was clipped, not wanting to engage in what he was really asking.

  He moved so close his breath plastered to my skin. “Is she the Donnal I’ve been smelling ever since I came here?”

  Jen let out a low, rumbling warning sound. “Back off,” she hissed.

  Rhod grinned, his pointy corner teeth glinting in the morning sun. “Just asking. The Fae can answer, can’t she?” His eyes seemed to pierce through mine, prodding my thoughts.

&nb
sp; “So what?” I said. “Got anything against humans?”

  “Not at all.” It sounded like a lie. “In fact, we’re more than happy to have them visit us in the tourist season. Other times of year, we only see a few of them.” His grin turned feral. “They’re fun at parties.”

  “Rhod!” Osian elbowed Rhod in his side. “Shut it!”

  Rhod held his hands out. “What? I’m just telling this supposed descendant of Avalon about our ways. She might learn something while visiting our small town.”

  “She wouldn’t understand,” Osian continued. He came up next to his cousin. “They never do, the outsiders.”

  “Outsider?” I huffed. “You do know my roots are here, in this very land.” I tapped my foot on the ground. “And I’m here to pay my respects to those very roots.” My fire was bubbling under my skin.

  “Leave her alone,” Jen snapped. “Aren’t you supposed to work the fields?”

  The Shifter boys glared at me. “You know nothing about our ways of life, no matter your roots,” said Rhod. “I’m sorry you lost your mam, but she ran away from here. She cut the ties to our world to go and live among the humans. That’s not right. Nimue would never allow—”

  What an eejit. If Brendan were here, he would have smacked the boys for their ignorance. I snorted. “Are you going to lecture me about Nimue?” I wanted to explain about her being my grandmother, but that would mean I also had to tell them about Auberon. Still, I had no intention of letting this tosser get away with the other part of what he had said. “And don’t you dare speak ill about my mum. She gave her life while protecting Mags. She had more right in her than you can ever dream of.”

  “Red!”

  I turned to Jen. “What?”

  “Your hands,” she said, motioning with her eyes.

  “Whoa, take it easy with that.” A hint of fear flickered across Osian’s face. The Shifter boys backed away.

  Two burning spheres were hovering an inch above my palms. I guessed I should have retracted them, but I kept them instead, raising my hands in front of me.