by Chrys Cymri
‘Me?’ I laughed. ‘Never.’
‘How old were you when your parents died?’
I blinked at the change in subject. ‘Eighteen. I was eighteen.’
‘Would you say you were a difficult teenager? Before they died.’
‘I was a great daughter.’ I sighed. ‘Top grades, church choir, young leader in the Girl Guides. James had a few health scares the first couple of years. They were both rather busy worrying about him.’
‘So you made sure they didn’t have to worry about you.’
‘Parents shouldn’t have to worry about their children.’ My tone was sharper than I’d intended, and I smiled a quick apology.
‘The good daughter for your parents,’ Gregory mused. ‘Even to raising their son for them.’
‘He’s my little brother,’ I said. ‘It was my responsibility.’
‘So, you were a good daughter as a young teenager so that they could concentrate on James. Then you were an even better young adult, taking on responsibility for your brother. So, Penny, have you ever rebelled?’
‘What, with Social Services breathing down my back?’ I shuddered at the memory. ‘They weren’t happy about an eighteen year old taking on her four year old brother. But it made me the responsible type. Isn’t that a good thing to be, if you’re a priest?’
‘And James? What type is he?’
‘The type whose older sister makes sure he gets his degree in Computer Science without ending up in debt,’ I said promptly. ‘The type who can just decide to go to New Zealand on a work visa. When I was his age, I was working to support him and me and trying to go to uni at the same time. He just doesn’t realise how lucky he is.’
‘Are you jealous of him?’
‘Yes.’
The response startled me, but not Gregory. ‘It must be tiring, sometimes, to always be the responsible one.’
‘Sometimes,’ I admitted. Then I straightened. ‘But it also means I’m seen as trustworthy. That’s why Roy asked me to go see Des. That’s why I was appointed Vicar General. People know I can be trusted.’
‘No secret desire to escape to another country?’
‘None,’ I said steadily. ‘God called me to be here.’ But deep inside me, a small voice said, Maybe not another country, but another world…
<><><><><><>
‘Penny,’ Peter asked, ‘have you heard a word of what I said?’
‘Sorry.’ I sighed, and leaned back in my chair. ‘The music reminds me of when I took James to Italy. I did say I wanted to go to a Chinese tonight.’
‘I know you prefer Italian,’ he said, grinning. ‘That’s why I brought you here instead.’
I dug at my pasta, still wishing that I had chopsticks and a plate of stir fried beef in front of me. ‘Where were we?’’
‘Comparing notes about our familiars.’
‘Associate,’ I corrected automatically.
Peter shrugged. ‘Okay, let the church call them Associates. The rest of the world isn’t scared that people might think we’re witches. Like I was saying, there’s an easy solution to keeping your garden birds safe.’
I shook my head. ‘I’m not keeping rabbits. I’d only get attached to them.’
‘You softy.’ Peter tipped more red wine into my glass, and very little into his. He had offered to drive. ‘Taryn is very good about it. She never leaves a mess in my garden.’
‘I wish Morey would clean up after himself,’ I grumbled. ‘This morning I caught him and Clyde hunting together. The blackbird literally didn’t know what hit her.’ Then a thought struck me. ‘What happens if you’re touching someone from Lloegyr? Like if you’re riding a dragon? Can people see you?’
‘Of course,’ he replied. ‘Think about it. Otherwise we’d disappear when our familiars were on our shoulders. But that’s why we only fly on dragons when in Lloegyr.’
I hid my face behind my wine glass. Raven and I would have to be more careful. Obviously we’d been lucky thus far.
‘What were you thinking about? Earlier?’
‘James,’ I admitted. ‘I was thinking about James.’
‘He’s still with Miranda?’
‘How do you know that?’ I asked.
His lips thinned as he realised that he’d spoken out of turn. ‘We have people watching Miranda,’ he admitted.
‘Why? Is she in danger?’
‘I’ve probably said more than I should.’
‘You know it won’t go any further. You can trust me, I’m a priest.’
‘You’re a civilian.’
I wondered what he’d say if he knew that I had ordered a folding knife with a three inch blade. During yesterday’s visit to Lloegyr, Raven had taken me to a dwarf settlement. At the knife market he had tried to convince me to purchase a full length dagger. I had insisted on something which was still legal in England. Well, should be legal. Just. Raven said he would source the metal for the blade.
‘James lives with her now,’ I reminded him. ‘I’d like to know if my brother’s in any sort of danger.’
His fork toyed with the remains of his steak. ‘Not from anyone else, he isn’t.’ Peter’s eyes met mine. ‘Miranda has history. She stalked one boyfriend and we think she slashed the tyres of his wife’s car after he got married. No proof, so there wasn’t much we could do. She’s just a bit unhinged.’
‘A lifetime of being told you’re imagining things would probably do that to you,’ I said, trying to dredge up some sympathy.
‘Probably.’
‘And James? Is he safe?’
‘As long as he doesn’t try to leave her. Or until she does something stupid.’
‘James,’ I said despairingly, ‘has always had a poor choice in women.’
‘He’s only twenty-two,’ Peter reminded me. His lips quirked into a smile. ‘I wasn’t that much different when I was his age. I like to think that I’ve learned from my mistakes.’
‘Sorry.’ I returned his smile. ‘Going on about James.’
‘Oh, no, I don’t mind. You care about other people.’ He leaned forward, and took my hand in his. ‘It’s one of the things I really like about you.’
My smile broadened. ‘And what else do you like about me?’
He was about to answer when his phone rang. ‘That you remember to turn off your mobile on an evening off,’ he said drily. Then he walked outside to take the call.
I finished my pasta and the glass of wine. Peter returned as I was investigating the pudding menu. ‘Sorry, Penny. Urgent case. Look, I’ll order you a taxi. I need to go to Northampton, so I don’t have time to drop you home. I’ll pay.’
‘I can afford a taxi home.’
‘I said I’d drive you, and now I’m not. It’s only right that I pay.’ He waved at a waiter. ‘And I’ll leave you enough for dinner as well. You can give me the change later.’
‘Why not take me with you?’ I asked. The evening was still young and all I could look forward to was an Elementary episode.
Peter shook his head. ‘Sorry, no. I only involved you with the Dominic situation because, well, you were involved. This is different.’
I bit down on my frustration. ‘Okay. I know you’re not blowing me off.’
He leaned in close. I took a deep breath of his attractive mixture of aftershave, soap, and leather. ‘Penny, no man with an ounce of sense would blow you off.’
‘Not a bad sentence,’ I conceded. But I wondered why, every time this attractive man came near, I found myself thinking of a green-black dragon.
He winced. ‘It was the ounce of sense bit, wasn’t it? A bit too Dickens.’
‘You like Dickens?’
‘Nicholas Nickleby,’ he replied. ‘Have you seen the stage version with Roger Rees?’
‘I have it on DVD,’ I told him. ‘It’s fantastic. I’d love to compare notes.’
‘So would I. And now, to quote the Tenth Doctor, I really don’t want to go.’ But he was shrugging into his coat even as he spoke. ‘I’ll give you a ca
ll.’
I paid the bill with Peter’s notes, and did the same with the taxi. The vicarage was dark and quiet as I let myself in. There was no light from Morey’s room as I changed in my own bedroom. I went down to the office. Clyde was curled up in his shell, no doubt digesting his first meal of blackbird. With a loud sigh, I dropped into my chair and wondered how I should fill the rest of my Friday evening.
A rap on the window brought my head up. An eye was shoved up against the glass, blue-green iris gleaming in the light cast from my desk lamp. The head turned, and I saw spines, teeth, and nostrils. Raven’s snort left mist against the glass.
I was immediately on my feet, retrieving my coat and shoving on boots before going to the kitchen and out through the back door. He was disentangling claws from overgrown grass as I locked the door behind me. ‘Penny the Indomitable.’
‘You’re going to run out of titles for me.’
‘I don’t think there’s any danger of that happening.’ His breath was warm in the cold night. ‘There’s something I want to show you.’
‘Tonight?’
‘Yes. Tonight is a good night.’ I’d left the office lights on, and even in their dim glow his scales still sparkled as he snaked his neck. ‘Are you ready for another flight?’
The Elementary episode could wait. Suddenly my Friday evening had improved. And dragon mounting was becoming easier with practice. I bounced off his foreleg and pulled myself up onto his back. I drew my coat around me, and then grabbed his spine as he kicked us upwards.
Street lamps shone on the roads and houses below. The moon was half full, and she cast her own silvery light onto the monochromatic world. Then the usual shiver as we passed through a thin place and into another world.
I only had the briefest glimpse of starlit fields before Raven angled his wings, plunging us through another crossover point. For a moment I couldn’t work out the strange movements below us. Then, just as I realised that we were flying over an ocean, moonlight glancing across the waves, we went through another thin place in the sky.
Cold struck me. My legs immediately chilled. I risked removing one hand from Raven’s spine to clumsily button up my coat. Only when my grip was once again secure did I dare to look around.
Or, to be precise, to look up. And what I saw made me lean back in amazement. Ribbons of green light were swirling across the star studded sky, hovering over the nearby mountains and glinting over the snow-filled peaks.
Raven swooped into a long descent. My eyes were tearing and my nose beginning to run by the time his feet touched earth. He trotted then walked, bringing us to an easy halt. I might be getting better at flying, but he was definitely becoming better at carrying a passenger.
I glanced down. The ground looked dark, so I assumed we weren’t on snow. Raven lowered himself and extended his left foreleg, easing my dismount. Even so, I nearly bent a foot under me as I touched earth. My hiking boots helped me to catch myself.
Then I dared to take in the spectacle unfolding in front of us. We were standing at the shore of a lake. Pieces of ice bobbed in the surface, a grey-white contrast to the green and red light reflected on the water. I looked up as purple suddenly joined the dance. The ribbons marched across the sky, and I could understand why some Inuit believed that the Northern Lights were the spirits of the departed.
‘Na Fir Chlis,’ said Raven. ‘Scots dragons call the lights “the nimble men” or “the merry dancers.”’
‘I’ve never seen them before.’ Then I shivered. ‘Where are we?’
‘Gwlad yr Iâ. Those who live here call their country Ísland.’
‘Iceland. No wonder it’s so cold.’
Raven moved closer. Then his left wing was spread over me, the skin folds wrapping around my shoulders and pulling me in close. His hide was wonderfully soft, and I pressed against the warmth. ‘Search dragons don’t mind cold. Sorry.’
‘You don’t need to apologise. I’m glad to be here.’ And I meant it. The lights were becoming ever more creative, and my gaze was torn between watching the ribbons swirl across the sky and how ripples in the lake water created new patterns against the floating icebergs. I was suddenly very happy that Peter had been called away. Dinner in a restaurant, no matter how good the food, couldn’t compare to this.
A streak of white cut across the sky. ‘Good,’ Raven said. ‘A meteorite. I was hoping for one. Let’s see where it landed.’
‘Won’t it still be hot?’
He snorted. ‘I’ve collected over a dozen, and none of them have been more than warm.’
I re-mounted, and leaned back as his powerful hindlegs kicked against the ground. The warmth which had been provided by his wing and side was stripped away as we flew through the frost-chilled air. My fingers were beginning to numb, and I glanced down to make sure that I was still holding Raven’s spine.
The lake slid by beneath us, and then we were flying over snow-flecked earth. Raven rose as trees gathered ahead of us, pines which stabbed their pointed branches at the stars. I tried to ignore the cold and enjoy the ride, sandwiched between icy ground and colourful sky.
There was another lake on the other side of the forest, and then flat ground. Raven’s snout was weaving, side to side, as if he were a dog searching for a particular scent. He rose to clear a small hill. Then his wings tipped, and his body rose at an angle. I felt myself slide down onto the spine behind me. Then we were landing, his hindfeet touching down a moment before his forefeet.
‘Here it is.’ His voice rumbled between my legs. ‘Come and get it.’
I gritted my teeth and dismounted. My cold legs meant that I landed awkwardly, and I grabbed warm hide to help me stay upright. ‘What am I looking for?’ I asked, trying to stamp warmth back into my feet.
‘Just beyond my left foot. In the small hole.’
The ground was simply dark to my eyes. I fished the iPhone out of my pocket and pressed it on. Light shone across the green fingertoes, the golden claws, and onto a long score across the earth. A fist sized piece of rock rested in a pit. I knelt down and stretched out a hand to pick it up. It was heavier than I’d expected, and the metal was cold on my palm. ‘Congratulations. You found it. What do you want it for?’
‘It’s for you. For your dagger.’
‘Folding knife,’ I corrected. ‘Three inch blade. Maximum.’
He snorted. ‘This is what I’ll take to the dwarves. They do wonders with sky metal.’
I slid the rock into a coat pocket. ‘Why are you determined that I carry a knife?’
‘Lloegyr can be a dangerous place.’
As I had tried to tell James. ‘But I have a dragon to protect me. You.’
‘I am not your protector,’ he retorted. ‘You must be able to protect yourself.’
‘Then why hire dwarves to forge a knife for me?’
His eyes glittered in the shifting light. ‘Because you will be a magnificent knifebearer.’
Raven returned me to my own back garden, and I deposited the meteorite into his forefoot. ‘I was just wondering,’ I asked as he prepared to leave. ‘If you dragons are only attracted to strong women, why was Endre interested in Miranda?’
‘What makes you think she’s not strong?’
‘I haven’t seen much sign of it.’
‘Then doubt yourself. Not Endre.’
And he was gone. I hurried back into the house, desperate for a hot bath. Or should it be a cold shower?
Chapter Twenty Three
The Yoda figure and I eyed each other with mutual loathing. The black base of the statue was a dark contrast to the white coffin on which he rested. I had been assured that the motion sensor had been switched off, but when I had walked past him to the lectern to deliver the tribute to his dead owner, the grey robed figure had come to life. The lightsaber had lit up, and his green head had moved as he warned me, ‘Only cowards follow the dark side.’
There had been a mixture of gasps and nervous laughter from the mourners in the church. The decease
d, Gill Thompson, had loved Star Wars, and her funeral plans had insisted that Yoda would sit on her coffin for the service. I wasn’t sure which family member, when touching the coffin at the start of the funeral, had flicked Yoda on, but I had my suspicions. I glared at the middle son. He merely grinned back at me, looking suddenly much younger than his forty odd years of age.
Yoda held his peace during the readings and hymns, but I’d been able to announce those from my usual place in the church. The lack of movement had kept him quiet. Now we were coming to the end, when I would normally go to the coffin and commend the departed to the love and care of God. I longed to have a moment to grab the irritating creature and find his off switch, but I could think of no way of doing so in a dignified fashion.
The last hymn finished. I turned to the congregation. ‘Please remain standing as we pay our last respects.’
I stepped down from my stall and approached the coffin. The congregation held their breaths. There was a flurry of murmurs which, I strongly suspected, were a few people making quick bets. I kept on the left side of the coffin, hoping to avoid the motion sensor. ‘Let us commend our sister Gill to the mercy of God, our maker and redeemer.’
Yoda remained silent as I finished. I bowed to the coffin, then stepped to one side to allow the bearers to walk up the aisle past me. Yoda’s lightsabre lit as they moved into place. ‘Luminous beings are we… not this crude matter,’ he announced.
‘Exactly what the Vicar said!’ someone shouted from the back of the church.
To my relief, the family were grinning through their tears. ‘Exactly as Mum would have wanted it,’ the middle son told me as I walked past.
The grave was only a hundred feet from the door of the church. Yoda was removed before the coffin was lowered. The grandchildren threw in roses. Yoda, to my great regret, did not follow the flowers, but was instead scooped up by a young girl. She flipped him over and turned him off, and I nodded my gratitude.
The mourners began to wander past. The wake was in the local pub. Although the family had invited me to join them, my diary didn’t allow it. In thirty minutes I had to be at the school to do a talk about baptism.
