by Dani Harper
As they emerged into the sunlit courtyard, Lurien fulfilled his role as llaw dde to the absolute letter by announcing the newest delegate to the gathering. “In the name of Her Grace, Queen Gwenhidw of the Nine Realms, I present Aurddolen o’r Draigddynion.” And just in case any of the delegates were uninformed as to the significance of that name, he couldn’t resist adding, “Recently crowned ruler of all the dragon territories.”
The gasps from most of those assembled were loud and unmistakable this time, but Lurien didn’t hear them. His mind was automatically screaming a warning as the envoy stepped forward to take the welcoming hand of Gwenhidw and . . .
Nothing happened. Yet everything happened. The two rulers embraced for a heart-stopping moment as if they were simply dear friends meeting, then Aurddolen gracefully and graciously assumed the place hastily vacated for her in the circle of astonished diplomats.
“Now that we are all here,” said his queen, “there is no time to lose. We have much to do, and”—she looked directly at Lurien then, and had the audacity to wink at him—“bold moves require bold plans.”
As Caris watched Jay and Dodge disappear over the ridge, Morgan came striding into the barn, plainly exasperated. “Why does every man on the planet think he’s a superhero?” she demanded.
“A what?”
“You know—oh wait, maybe you don’t,” said Morgan, blowing out a breath. “Well, it’s just the way that men think they can do anything, no matter what.”
Caris laughed. “Ah, like a man will say he’s right as rain, even if he has an arm hanging off.”
“That’s it, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. Liam just called back to say he’s coming home right now, instead of waiting until tomorrow. I know that the doctors can’t force him to stay—they’re not allowed to tie the guy to a bed. But if Liam leaves the hospital, there’s no way he’ll take it easy, not with all of this.” She waved a hand at the debris-strewn yard.
“Aye, he doesn’t strike me as the kind of man to sit idle while others are working,” said Caris. “You’re worried he’ll not be resting overmuch.”
“Exactly. I told Liam I just plain didn’t want him here, that it would make my job harder to have to babysit him as well as the animals. I gave him every reason why he should do himself a favor and stay in the hospital. Or in a motel next to the hospital, just for a night, just in case, but no-o-o-o. Nothing worked. And so now I owe you an apology.”
“Me? My heavens, whatever for?”
“After I hung up, I called his doctor’s office. They won’t tell you anything if you’re not family, so I lied my face off and pretended to be Tina so he’d tell me what the tests showed. Liam does have a concussion, but it doesn’t appear to be serious. Still nothing to fool around with of course, and the doc said he’ll have to take it easy, rest a lot, not overdo things.”
“Right-o, everything a man is naturally bent to do,” snorted Caris. “My da was the same once.”
“So Liam needs some help around here, at least for a couple of weeks.”
“Well, of course he does!”
“And I said you’d do it.”
It was a long, speechless moment before Caris recovered herself. “You want me to work here on Liam’s farm? With Liam?” Her voice wobbled a little. Something deep inside was fluttering like a bird—both appalled and excited—at the thought of spending so much time with the blue-eyed man.
“I know it’s a lot to ask, especially when Liam’s such a . . . such a . . . Well, hell, I don’t know what else to call him but a grumpy old hermit. He won’t be easy to be around, I know, but Jay and I have to get back to the clinic tomorrow at the latest.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Look, I’ve watched you today, Caris, and you really know what you’re doing.” Morgan softened her voice. “I know you just got back to being human and all, but maybe this would be good for you while you get your bearings. Familiar surroundings, right? You said you grew up on a farm.”
“It was a long time ago. Jay showed me the machine here that does the milking—I’ve seen them before of course. I know what all the equipment is, and what it’s for, just like I know what all the machines are in the house. As a grim, I walked the human world, and I’ve witnessed all the new ways over the years—but I don’t know how to use a single one of them myself.”
“Anyone can learn to use technology, but you already know the animals, and that’s the most important part. I know animals too, and I can see when someone is gifted with them. Please give Liam a hand for a little while, a few days maybe. Just until I can find someone else? You’d be paid fairly for it, of course. And then I’d love it if you’d consider taking on a position at my clinic. I’d like you to work for me.”
Caris was grateful she wasn’t the crying sort—she’d be in tears for certain at Morgan’s kind offer. “And here I was wondering where on earth to begin, how to find a place for myself in this new life.”
“You’ll have more support than you know, I promise you that. Like I mentioned before, my husband, Rhys, was a grim once. And my friend Aidan, too. So you won’t be alone.”
“Fer certain ya won’t be alone!” The familiar voice made Caris look down. Ranyon had his spindly hands planted on his hips—or where his hips probably were. “I’m not fer leaving ya here on yer own, even with Liam. I’m thinking you need a little backbone on yer side.”
“A little what?” asked Morgan.
“You know, like in the TV shows that my friend Leo likes to watch. The police always call fer backbone when they fall into a tight spot.”
Caris didn’t know what on earth he meant, but she could see Morgan trying her best not to laugh.
“Backup,” the woman explained. “They call for backup. It means—”
He waved a hand at her. “I know well enough what it means. It’s when someone has yer back, right? Well, I’m not fer going anywhere until I know fer certain that llygru prince is gone fer good—and if he’s not gone, I’m wantin’ to know what he’s up to! Seems to me, as well, that this good lady might need a bit of a friend while she’s getting used to being human again.”
“I’m sure Liam won’t be that miserable to be around,” began Morgan, but she trailed off when Caris shook her head.
“Liam won’t be mistreating me, I’m sure, but he doesn’t believe me one bit. I made the mistake of telling him what I was, so he already thinks I’m touched in the head,” she explained. “As much as he needs help around the farm, he won’t be trusting me, and he might not even want me here at all.”
“Ha!” the ellyll snorted. “I’m thinking that Liam would like fer ya to be here far more than Liam himself knows.”
Caris wasn’t sure that was true, but she solemnly clasped one of the ellyll’s twiggy hands and shook it gently. “I’m very glad of your offer, dear Ranyon. You’re right about things being a mite strange right now, and a bit of understanding company would be welcome.”
“Aye, well that’s settled then,” he declared, then charged off in the direction of the house.
“Wait—where are you going?” asked Morgan.
Ranyon didn’t slow down a bit but called back over his shoulder: “We’ve got some planning to do afore Liam comes home, but surely we don’t need to be doing it on empty stomachs, do we? I’m fair to fade away here!”
“He always is,” Morgan whispered to Caris. “But for once, I can feel myself fading too. Breakfast was an awfully long time ago. Let’s go see if we can scrounge up some kind of meal for the three of us, and then we’ll put our heads together.”
“He’s hungry?” Caris was perplexed. “But he’s fae—he could conjure a banquet for himself right here and now if he wished.”
“Of course he could, but he won’t. In fact, Ranyon could have done all the work for us today with just a few charms, but he didn’t. He uses magic only where it’s needed—at
least, most of the time. He reminds me a lot of my friend Brooke that way. She’s a very powerful witch, but she follows a strict code. She respects her gift by using it sparingly, and only to help others. You won’t find her snapping her fingers to fold the laundry or wash the dishes for herself.” Morgan hurried to catch up to the ellyll.
Caris followed, but slower, as she turned over the woman’s words in her mind. It seemed respectful, felt right, that magic should be reserved for need. How different from the faery realm, from everything she’d experienced there. And how unlike the Tylwyth Teg, who used magic for everything and anything. Can any of them so much as comb their hair with their own hands? Small wonder that their hearts were cold, their emotions faded, and their desires forever unsatisfied. They never touch anything that’s real.
Right now, Caris had never felt more thankful for her ability to work. She was dirty, hot, tired, and hungry—and it was sheer glory.
A little of the shine rubbed off that glory about halfway to the house. It was further than it looked to be, and as she trailed her companions, dodging wreckage and rubbish, Caris found herself wishing for a steaming pot of tea. How strange to want anything, to feel need after decades of nothingness. It was like being numb, she decided. Her body had continued to exist, certainly. But in its canine form, it was as if her human senses had been suspended, hibernating like dormice under an endless snow.
Now her body was making demands. It was bad enough that she’d had to adopt an enormous old pair of barn boots that surely were too big even for Liam, but at least Morgan and Ranyon had managed not to laugh. They couldn’t help but chuckle, though, when her stomach growled like an angry bear.
They were most of the way across the ruined yard, stepping over and around a myriad of things so shredded and shattered that Caris couldn’t even identify what they had once been, when she thought she saw movement from the corner of her eye. She paused and looked hard at a long, low-roofed building filled with old machines and tools. It was shaded and dark, but she discerned an immense shadow pooled beneath it all, blacker than the rest . . .
“Don’t be looking at it!” hissed Ranyon, seizing her hand and tugging her along with surprising strength. “Pretend nothing’s amiss.”
She obeyed at once, clasping his twiggy fingers and swinging his arm lightly as if they were simply dear friends out for a stroll. It made sense to defer to the little ellyll. Goodness only knew just how old he was, but for certain he was far more experienced than she was in most matters, magical or otherwise. Just ahead of them, Morgan was completely unaware, explaining to them how the house had once belonged to Liam’s aunt and uncle, and he hadn’t changed a single thing since he moved in, and wasn’t that just like a man . . .
Caris leaned down and whispered to her small protector. “You saw it too. What was it?” The ellyll just shook his head emphatically, saying nothing.
The roofed porch of the big old house was welcoming, partly because of its cool shade, but mostly for its sense of shelter, however slight. Still talking, Morgan opened the door and walked in—and she was startled as Ranyon abruptly shoved her out of the way and yanked Caris in after her. In a flash he’d turned the lock (an odd move, considering every window was already shattered), then planted his long thin hands against the thick wooden panels, as he chanted a brief but emphatic spell.
“What the . . .” began Morgan, but she got no further.
ELEVEN
A dull thud, like the fall of a giant’s mallet, reverberated through the floorboards, and Caris could feel the vibrations in her bones and teeth. She peered through a broken pane as the charm’s power spread out from the house in all directions like ripples on a pond. The magic itself wasn’t visible, but its effects were. Every blade of grass flattened before it, and each fallen branch and scrap of debris arranged itself outward until the expanding circle reached the building.
The shed collapsed in an immense cloud of dust, both roof and walls, burying the machinery inside in a tangle of broken boards and twisted beams.
“Ha! ’Twas just as I thought,” declared Ranyon, folding his thin, branchlike arms across his bright blue shirt.
“What the hell happened?” demanded Morgan. “Did I just see you wreck Liam’s machine shed?”
“We had a bit o’ company,” he said. “And it was hiding in there.”
“The fae are still here?” She fisted her hands in apparent frustration. “Dammit, I have the knowing, but I can’t feel anything except that a whole parade of Tylwyth Teg trampled through here. Why didn’t I sense that one of them was still within spitting distance?” Morgan pointed at Caris then. “For that matter, why didn’t I know right off that you were a grim? If Ranyon hadn’t found the collar, I might not have guessed.”
The ellyll fanned his spindly hand in a calming gesture, encouraging Morgan to sit down. “Yer not losing yer touch, good lady. She wasn’t a fae creature when ya met her, but as mortal as you are. I thought she was a human meself, dontcha know.
“But as for that great creeping anghenfil out there”—he pointed out the window in the direction of the ruined building—“’Tis neither mortal nor fae, and a danger to both.”
Anghenfil. Monster. Caris found a kitchen chair and sat quickly before her legs refused to hold her. There were many kinds of faery beings, as she had witnessed for herself at the queen’s gathering. But there were other things that lived in the worlds above and below, things dwelling in the Inbetween, predatory things that even the Fair Ones feared. She’d never seen an anghenfil herself, even when she’d traveled with Maelgwn’s hunt to this land, but several of the riders had been very much afraid . . . “Jay’s out there by himself,” she breathed. “He won’t know to beware.”
“He won’t be having to.” Ranyon shook his narrow knotted fist at the closest window. “I might not be able to best a creature like that toe-to-toe, but I’ve given it a headache it won’t soon be rid of.”
“Are you certain it’s gone?” asked Caris.
“Fer now. It’s fled to whatever hole it crawled through to get here. And I’m hoping it’s tellin’ all its friends to steer clear o’ this place.”
“Great, it has friends too!” Morgan was punching numbers into her phone. “I’m warning Jay.” Frustrated, she tried twice more. “Crap! The stupid thing says he’s out of range. I should have thought about the hill behind the farm—Finger Ridge is practically solid basalt under the soil.”
“Pfft, basalt!” The ellyll acted as if they were talking about mere paper instead of stone and abruptly plucked the phone from her hand with his long, twiggy fingers. He didn’t press a single button but simply put the bright little rectangle to his ear. “Are ya there, Jay? Aye, it’s Ranyon.” They chatted as if nothing in the world was wrong, as if something huge and menacing had never been lurking nearby.
No doubt to channel her anxiety over Jay, Morgan started clearing broken glass from the countertops with a will. Caris followed suit, seizing a broom and attacking the shards that littered the floor. She was working on her second glittering pile when the ellyll finally revealed the existence of the otherworldly creature to their friend.
“A what?” Jay’s voice through the phone could be clearly heard.
“Now, then, there’s no cause fer alarm,” soothed Ranyon, and after a short but vigorous conversation, Jay must have believed him. A moment later, the ellyll handed the cell back to Morgan. “I had a good look through the phone while Jay was talking,” he said as he began piling books and magazines onto a kitchen chair. “Our boy’s found most of yer friend’s cows, and t’other horse as well. He’s bringing them back to us. And you’ll be pleased to know there’s no anghenfilod anywhere near him.”
Caris was relieved but also fascinated. “You can see through the little machines, too?”
“No, not the way he means,” explained Morgan. “He used it like a scrying tool, like Brooke does sometimes.”
> “I’m glad to know we have a witch on our side,” said Caris, and she saw that she’d surprised Morgan.
“I wasn’t sure you’d feel that way,” she said. “It’s still not a popular occupation, and it makes some people uncomfortable.”
Caris laughed then. “We have faeries and monsters all about us, and I should find myself concerned about a witch? Our preacher would be horrified of course, but people in my village were appalled by many things that have since proved to be without harm. As for myself, I’m thinking we need all the magical help we can get.”
“Good answer,” Morgan said, and smiled.
As Ranyon brought more books for his chair, Caris helped him stack them, then put a gentle hand on his spindly arm. “Are you certain Jay will be safe?” she asked.
“As sure as little fishes,” he declared. “Anghenfilod are big, and deadly dangerous if you blunder too close to them, but most are shortsighted. It’ll think our friend’s just part of his horse. But since the good beast has plenty o’ spots, there was never anything to be worrying yourselves over.”
Caris waited in vain for an explanation and finally Morgan ventured: “Okay, I’ll bite. How are Dodge’s spots going to help the situation?”
The little ellyll looked surprised. “Why, a pied creature repels faery sight, dontcha know. ’Tis the mix of light and dark that does it, and even scrying will not reveal it. Few creatures outside the human realm can see such an animal unless they happen to touch it, because only touch can break the illusion.
“And as fer yer good Dodge, a horse as speckled as that one is a powerful shield against magic as well. Brooke told me that the peoples who once lived in these hills were wise about such things, and treasured their applesauces.”
Morgan’s mouth twitched. “Appaloosas,” she corrected.
“Aye, those are the very ones,” said Ranyon, heaving one last book on top of the pile on the chair.
“But . . . But you didn’t have any trouble seeing Dodge, did you?” she asked.
