SONS of DON

by Brenda L. Harper

  Blodeuwedd dropped to her knees in front of Gwen and wrapped her hands around the injured ankle. Gwen began to protest, but Blodeuwedd’s touch felt so good that the protest died on her tongue. She found herself staring, not sure what amazed her more, the fact that the swelling and bruising that circled her ankle was slowly disappearing, or the delicate fingers of her mother’s hands that were not unlike her own.

  She’d never been able to look at another human being and say, my hands look like yours.

  Or her nose was the same.

  Or the shape of her face, or the color of her hair, or her height, her mannerisms, or anything else millions of kids take for granted.

  “You will be able to do this,” Blodeuwedd said. “It just takes time.”

  Blodeuwedd began to pull away, but Gwen grabbed her wrist and pressed her hand to her mother’s palm. After a split second of hesitation, Blodeuwedd spread her fingers wide, holding her hand up so that Gwen could see them together.

  “Yours are a little longer,” she said quietly.

  “But they look so much alike.” There was awe in Gwen’s voice.

  “They do.”

  There was pride in Blodeuwedd’s voice.

  Perhaps that was what finally cut through the amazement that had cooled Gwen’s anger. But it came back like a wild fire flashing through her soul. Gwen jerked away and again stood, this time her ankle holding as though nothing had happened to it.

  “I don’t want to speak to you.”

  Blodeuwedd stood slowly, as though it was almost painful for her to move her body. “You don’t have to speak,” she said calmly. “But I need you to listen.”

  “Why? So you can make excuses for what you and Paul did to me?”

  “No. I won’t excuse it. We saved your life.”

  “Saved my life? For what? So that I can save you from this curse that you completely deserved?”

  Blodeuwedd surprised Gwen by smiling. “You are such a bright child,” she said, “but you are still so naive about so many things.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that this is much bigger than you or me. This is bigger than the smacks Dee Nelson gave you, the beating little Billy Collins offered in the fourth grade. It’s bigger than the Mitchells and the Tomlinsons and the Warbys and all the other families that ignored and neglected you.” She stepped back slightly, her skin seeming to take on a sparkling glow as the sun took one last dip down over the edge of the horizon. “It’s even bigger than what Todd Smart did to you those dark nights in your bedroom.”

  Gwen felt the color drain from her face as her mother recited the names of all the foster parents who had hurt her over the years. She crossed her arms over her chest, her stomach really hurting now as she tried to unhear what she had just heard.

  “You know.”

  “Of course I know. I watched over you.” Blodeuwedd reached out to her, but Gwen turned from her touch. She dropped her hand listlessly to her side. “I did what I could to help, but even my powers are limited.”

  Gwen shook her head. “I wouldn’t have been there if you hadn’t put the idea into his head.”

  “I told Bradley he had to protect you. He did what he could.”

  “He abandoned me.”

  “He saved you.” Blodeuwedd grabbed Gwen’s face, held it between both her hands, and forced her to look at her just like Paul had done. “Branwen wants you eliminated, and she will go to whatever lengths necessary to make it happen. She discovered who Bradley was and she learned how to follow him, how to find him no matter how many times he changed his name and how careful he was to keep himself off the public grid. It was he they were tracking, it was his need to make money that made it possible for them to find you. If you had continued to stay with him…”

  “But she has found me.”

  “Only because your gifts began to manifest. And because…” Blodeuwedd stopped, as though there was something she didn’t want Gwen to know just yet. “But you’re strong now. You can fight her.”

  Gwen shook her mother’s hands off of her face and turned away, pacing the short space to the end of the walk. She stared down at the tops of the trees, at the lights in the neighbors’ windows as they went about their nightly routines. She once stood here and thought how nice it must have been to have a forever family, the kind of family that wanted you, a family you knew and understood and didn’t have to worry was going to disappear tomorrow or the next day when some social worker decided it was time for you to move on.

  It never had been Gwen’s destiny to have such a family. She knew that now.

  “Did you love him?”

  The question hung in the air between them for a moment. They both knew it wasn’t really the question Gwen wanted to ask, but it was a good one to start with.

  “I chose him because he had a good heart and I knew he would be a good father to you.”

  “But did you love him?”

  “Love is…complicated.”

  Gwen grunted as tears once again began to run down her cheeks. She reached up and brushed them away.

  “I guess for you it is.”

  Blodeuwedd came up behind her, but she didn’t touch her. “My complicated history has very little to do with the way I feel about your father. Or the way I feel about you.”

  “Did you do it just because of the curse?”

  Again, a heavy silence fell between them. As the heartbeats passed, one after another, Gwen felt the tension fill her shoulders.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she finally said, turning to confront Blodeuwedd. “Just tell me what I need to know to break the curse.”

  Blodeuwedd smiled. “That, my child, is the simplest thing about this whole ordeal. You will know when you face the entrance to Annwn.”

  “I was told that,” Gwen said with some level of frustration, “but I still feel like I’m missing something.”

  “It is the journey to the entrance that you must worry about. There are people around you who are kind and gentle, people who want nothing more than to aid you. But there are others who have their own agenda.”

  “Who?”

  Blodeuwedd started to speak, but only the chirp of a bird slipped from between her lips. She reached up and touched her own lips, attempting to speak again, but again only a chirp slipped out of her mouth.

  “What is this?” Gwen asked. “Is this part of your curse?”

  Blodeuwedd nodded. “There are rules,” she said quietly, tears in her eyes. She clearly wanted to say more, but when she opened her mouth, the chirps were all that came out.

  “What do the rules have to do with the curse I’m supposed to break?”

  Blodeuwedd chirped again.

  Gwen shook her head. Frustration had tied a knot right between her shoulders. She flexed her shoulders as she continued to study Blodeuwedd.

  “Do you know where the entrance is? Tony is trying to find it, but he’s not sure.”

  “It is near the River Conwy.”

  Gwen nodded. “Tony thinks it might be under a hospital near the river.”

  “Possible.”

  “But you don’t know what the ritual I’m supposed to perform is?”

  “Do not worry about that,” Blodeuwedd said, touching her arm. “Concentrate on staying alive and reaching the gate.”

  “The gate? Is it an actual gate?”

  Blodeuwedd nodded. “You will know it when you see it.”

  Gwen shook her head. “I don’t understand any of this,” she said. “I don’t understand how I can be this important person in some game that happened thousands of years ago.”

  “It is complicated,” Blodeuwedd agreed. “But it will all make sense when you arrive at the gate. I promise you that.”

  Gwen studied her mother’s pale skin, her hazel eyes, and thought about what Tony had told her about Blodeuwedd’s tragic past. She had felt sympathy for her then. She wasn’t sure what it was she felt now. It wasn’t anger, but it wasn’t affection, either.


  Bodeuwedd touched Gwen’s face. “It’s time for me to go now,” she said. “Please promise me you will be careful. And understand that Bradley—Paul—is someone you can trust. Tony, too. But the others…please, be careful, my child.”

  Tear welled in Gwen’s eyes when her mother said those last two words. No one had ever called her that and meant it. As hurt and as confused as she was, it did mean something—even if she wasn’t quite ready to admit it to herself.

  Gwen had to shake herself as she watched her mother walk toward the other end of the widow’s walk, her gown billowing out behind her. There was one more thing she needed to know.

  “Is Rhein the traitor? Is he the one who led Gwydion and the others to the gate?”

  Blodeuwedd turned. In the pale moonlight, her skin sparkled—it wasn’t just Gwen’s imagination—and her eyes seemed to glow with an eerie light. She opened her mouth and spoke, but the words were lost in the chirp of a small, dwarf owl as her human form disappeared and the owl returned.

  “Thanks…” Gwen muttered as she watched her mother take flight.

  Chapter 20

  Laughter rang out around Gwen, almost like it was mocking her mood. Not that she thought Cei and his friends were being insensitive to her—they were, after all, being teenagers—but it felt wrong, just the same.

  She leaned back into him where they stood at the front of the school and felt his arm slip a little tighter around her waist. He was aware that something was bothering her, but he didn’t push when she told him she didn’t want to talk about it. He probably already knew. Gwen was pretty sure Paul—Bradley, or whatever he was calling himself now—had called Tony the moment Gwen left his apartment the night before because no one asked her why she hadn’t shown up at Tony’s office as she was supposed to. And they all seemed perfectly happy to give her space, even though they never would have done it before.

  So, she couldn’t blame Cei for doing what he thought she wanted.

  But it still felt suffocating.

  Gwen slipped out of Cei’s arms, but he followed, turning her around to face him.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I need to get something out of my locker,” she said. “I’ll be back.”

  He studied her face for a second, almost like he knew it was a lie. “Theresa and Melanie should be here in a few minutes.”

  “I know. It won’t take long.”

  He hesitated still, but only until one of his friends called out to him:

  “Hey, Cei, come kick the ball around for a minute!”

  He glanced back at the kid—he sure enjoyed his role as a high school student. She could see the eagerness on his face—before he looked at her again. “Don’t be long,” he said, kissing her lightly, much to the joy of his friends, who hooted their appreciation with cat calls.

  Gwen blushed, but she didn’t think Cei noticed. He was already running out onto the lawn before his friends were done with their cries for an encore.

  Gwen stepped into the school, which was empty even though the final bell had rung less than five minutes before, and listened to the echo of her footsteps as she walked toward the library. She had no destination in mind, really. She just—she was the genuine teenager, but she couldn’t stand the constant stares, the impertinent questions, and the crude humor of the kids Cei liked to surround himself with. She was pretty much convinced he was going through a second childhood, or something, and that was why he liked those kids. She didn’t want to be rude, but it seemed so odd that someone like him—someone who was clearly intelligent, charming, and older than dirt—would think those kids were remotely funny.

  She stepped into the library because there were other kids there, kids who were more interested in their studies than their RBIs or whatever. Her kind of kids. She wandered to the history section, her new favorite place in any library, and absently began scanning the shelves. She wasn’t looking for anything in particular…just wasting time.

  “You didn’t come to my place yesterday.”

  Gwen jumped, nearly dropping the heavy tome on the history of the American Indian she had been perusing.

  “I didn’t realize it was a date.”

  Rhein moved up close behind her, taking the book from her hand and pushing it back into its slot on the shelf. “It was important. I believe I said that.”

  “I had something else I needed to do.”

  “Is something wrong, Gwen?”

  She didn’t answer right away. She also didn’t turn around, afraid to look him in the eye. Did he know that Tony knew about the traitor theory? Did he know that Tony had told her? Did he know she suspected him?

  “Gwen.”

  He grabbed her shoulder and made her turn. She dropped her gaze, stared at a stain on the carpet, her mind running down a list of possible causes even as she became acutely aware of his breath in her hair.

  “Did Cei say something?”

  “He was at a track meet yesterday. So I went to Tony’s office.”

  “Why? Because Tony didn’t want you alone with me? Or was it Cei?”

  “What makes you think it had anything to do with you?”

  Rhein cupped her chin and made her look up. At first she fought him, but it seemed ridiculous, as though she was a child fighting her mother’s attempts to clean her face. She stepped back, nearly hitting her hip on the bookshelf behind her, and stared up at him defiantly.

  “What was it that you wanted?”

  “I have something to show you,” he said. “Something important.”

  “Can’t you just tell me?”

  “No.” He moved closer to her to lower the risk of someone overhearing, but it also caused his scent to envelop her, to make it nearly impossible for her brain to form easily comprehensible thoughts. “It has to do with the ritual. I think I’ve figured out something about it.”

  “Do you know what it is?”

  “Not exactly,” he said. “But I think I’m close to figuring out other things. And since the time is coming close—”

  “What time?”

  He frowned as he pulled back just slightly, enough so that he was looking her directly in the eye. “They haven’t told you?”

  “Told me what?”

  “There’s a window on this thing. If we don’t do it soon, they chance will disappear for another four months…maybe even a year.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Rhein cursed under his breath as he looked away, the words followed by a deep sigh. When he focused on her again, there was anger in his eyes.

  “Has anyone told you about the Druid Wheel of the Year? Of their celebration days?”

  Gwen shrugged. “No. Should they have?”

  Rhein sighed again. “There are eight sacred days on the wheel. Each with its own special significance to Druid beliefs. November first…or thereabouts, is the Druid New Year, the Samhuinn celebration. It is the ideal day for us to perform the ritual and have the results we’re hoping for.”

  “November first? But that’s just a few weeks away.”

  “Yeah.”

  Gwen shook her head. “We’re never going to make it. Tony still has no idea what the ritual is…they keep telling me I’ll know when I see the gate, but I really don’t think—”

  “Who tells you?”

  Gwen caught herself too late, a blush rising on her cheeks as she focused on the curiosity in Rhein’s face. “It’s…complicated.”

  “Everything is complicated.” He set his hands on the shelf behind her and stepped into her so that she was essentially trapped between his body and the long shelf of history books. It seemed poetic somehow. “Tell me who told you this.”

  “Blodeuwedd.”

  His eyebrows rose. “You spoke to your mother?”

  She nodded, a defiant tilt to her head. “She came to me last night.”

  “Does anyone else know?”

  “Why?”

  Rhein started to say something, but stopped. He glanced over his
shoulder, the tension in his shoulders increasing. She could see his muscles actually bunch up as he focused on her again.

  “Promise me you will come to my place tonight.”

  “Rhein—”

  “And don’t say anything to Cei. There’s something I need to tell you, and this is not the place to do it. There are too many ears here.”

  “Do you really think one of these students is a spy for Branwen?”

  “Branwen. Bran. One of their loyal minions…you can’t trust anyone, Gwen. I thought you’d figured that out by now.”

  “Can I trust you?”

  “Maybe not even me,” he said quietly. “Everyone has their own agenda, their own reason for helping or hindering you.”

  “And what is your agenda?”

  His breath seemed to hitch in his throat even as he flexed his jaw to answer. His eyes darkened, that blue become a deep cobalt, a blue that was bordering on black. She could see his pulse in his throat, could see how it thundered just under his flesh. She wondered if that was because of her, or if it had more to do with the secrets he was keeping.