by Chrys Cymri
We crossed through a number of thin places until we were hovering over my back garden. Raven dropped down, and I waited a moment before sliding off. ‘Don’t worry about Abella,’ I told him. ‘I’ll find a way to release Sasha, and then we’ll find a way to take Tarkik back to the akhlut.’
‘She was the one who helped me after Audrey left,’ Raven said in a low voice. ‘I can’t lose her too.’
‘And you won’t.’ I patted his foreleg. ‘We’ll make sure of that.’
‘As long as the akhlut are patient,’ Bastien warned from his place on my shoulder.
I fought back the impulse to strangle the rat. ‘If anything happens to Abella, they lose their influence over her shoal. And since they’ve obviously decided to force the merpeople to find a way to free Tarkik, rather than risking any of their own kind, I don’t think they’d be that stupid.’
A blur of grey and blue galloped over the grass and up the park bench. Jago perched on the end and lifted his crest as he turned his eyes on us. ‘Auntie Penny, Uncle Raven, where have you been? Have you been on an adventure? I bet you have. Was it a great adventure? What did you see? Will you take me next time?’
Bastien was leaning out from my shoulder, claws digging into my coat. ‘Who is that?’ he asked. His wide eyes and quivering whiskers reminded me of James’ reaction the first time my brother had seen Skylar.
‘Jago.’ I walked over to the small gryphon. ‘We went to Abella’s shoal.’
‘Oh, neat,’ Jago said. ‘I like the merpeople. Did they put on a performance for you?’
‘We had other matters to discuss,’ Bastien replied.
‘Like what?’
The rat extended his wings and flew over to the bench. ‘Like kidnapping.’
‘What an adventure!’
‘It was,’ Bastien agreed. ‘Much better than delivering a message to a back street in Llanbedr. Do you like adventures?’
I decided to leave the two to their discussion and wandered back to the still tense dragon. ‘I’ll contact Sue now. I’m certain she’ll help us out, particularly as I’ll emphasise that it’ll bring us closer to liberating the Themis.’
‘Then I’ll wait here.’ Raven shifted his weight back onto his haunches and curled his tail around his feet.
Clyde emerged from the bushes, his body pulsing orange and green. I shared his concern. Between a dragon and a rabble of snail sharks, the back garden felt over-crowded. ‘I can send for you.’
‘I’ll wait here.’
‘That’s fine.’ The voice of my neighbour made me stumble back in surprise. Albert peered over the fence, his eyes obviously moving between Raven, Bastien, Jago, and Clyde. ‘When you’re finished talking to the dragon, could you come over for a cuppa? It’s about time we had a chat.’
Chapter Eighteen
My heart was thudding in my chest as I hurried through the house and to the front door. Night had fallen, but despite the late hour I was fully awake. I paused only to shrug off my coat before going out the front door.
Albert was waiting for me just inside his own house. My fingers fumbled on my bootlaces as I shed my footwear in the storm porch. Then I followed my neighbour through the hallway into his kitchen. He patted down the wisps of grey hair which lined his nearly bald head before pouring tea into two cups. ‘Sugar?’
‘Just milk,’ I managed to answer. His kitchen was very similar in design to my own, with the same long counters and a table to one side. The smell of fish and chips hung in the air, reminding me that it was long past my dinner time. I took a seat on a pine chair.
‘Now, Reverend, don’t deny it,’ he said as he plonked my drink onto the table and lowered himself into a chair of his own. ‘You have fanged snails in your back garden, small gryphons flying in and out of a bedroom window, and a dragon who pays you regular visits. And despite your clever web TV series, I know I’m not seeing things.’
I studied his broad face for a moment. ‘Okay. Yes. You’re not seeing things. When did you realise?’
‘It’s been sort of growing on me.’ Albert’s chair creaked as he leaned back. ‘All sorts of weird things have been happening around your house. I had to decide whether I was going mad or if you kept a menagerie of fantasy creatures. I decided on the latter, though I don’t know where on Earth you’ve been finding them.’
‘They don’t come from Earth,’ I said. ‘There’s a world parallel to our own, called Daear. The country which touches our own is Lloegyr. All the beings you mentioned actually come from there. They come over using thin places, which are crossings which are usually formed where something terrible has happened.’
‘And you’re involved because...?’
‘The diocese appointed me.’ I rubbed my forehead. ‘I help out people who’ve crossed over. There’s a Christian Church over there. And other religions, of course.’
‘And their own, presumably.’
‘I’ve not asked,’ I admitted. ‘Anyway, beings we’d consider to be mythical live there. Dragons, unicorns, gryphons, weres, vampires, the lot.’
‘Weres?’
‘Like in were-wolves. But there’s also were-badgers, foxes, rabbits, you name it. Naked when they change into human form, of course.’
Albert sipped at his tea. ‘So, that naked gentleman who appeared at your house awhile back, that one with something of the night about him, here’s a were?’ He flushed. ‘Sorry, that’s probably not politically correct.’
‘He’s a vampire.’ I winced. ‘But don’t call them were-bats. A colony of them live in St Wulfram’s. They’re refugees from Lloegyr.’
‘And the Church gives you a dragon as transport?’
‘Raven emerged separately, actually.’
Albert studied me for a long moment. ‘So, you’re telling me that there’s this parallel world, and regular comings and goings, but somehow most of us don’t know about it?’
‘Our minds dismiss them,’ I explained. ‘Only if it’s made very obvious can you see them, and then the Sight wears off after a week or so. That’s why I have Morey, one of those gryphons you’ve been seeing, with me. He helps me to retain the Sight.’
‘Does our government know? The Prime Minister?’
‘Definitely.’
‘Then why is all this being kept a secret?’ Albert demanded. ‘Why hasn’t everyone been told about this?’
‘We’re trying to keep Lloegyr safe--’
‘From what?’
‘From people who would take advantage of that country,’ I said. ‘Lloegyr is far behind us in technological terms. They’re only now having a small industrial revolution, so they still have huge tracts of forest and meadowland. The worry is that companies over here might try to take over what they have. Only six months ago, an agricultural firm wanted to grab land from a unicorn herd. Keeping Lloegyr secret keeps its citizens safe.’
‘And that’s where you’re wrong.’ Albert leaned forward. ‘Keeping secrets protects the strong, not the weak. I’m a union man, I was a shop steward for many years. The management always wants to keep you in the dark, because that’s how they keep power over you.’
I stared at him. ‘What are you suggesting? That we tell everyone about Lloegyr?
‘My daughter loves unicorns,’ Albert said. ‘Started collecting them when she was seven. She’s thirty now, and she has cuddly toys and posters all around her house. If she’d been told that some corporation was going to remove unicorns from their land, Mary would have been the first to arrange a protest. She would’ve been on Facebook and Twitter and Tumblr, arranging petitions and marches on Parliament. And she wouldn’t have been the only one.’
‘It’s not up to me to decide to tell the British public,’ I said unsteadily. ‘It’s up to the government, or the Church. Besides, I’m not certain how you’d convince people that Lloegyr is real. For most of us, something major has to happen before we gain the Sight.’ But even as I spoke, I suddenly thought of a winged black unicorn who seemed to possess exactly that power.
‘You trust the powers-that-be much more than I do,’ Albert said. ‘I’ve learned to adopt a healthy level of suspicion. It’s something you might want to develop, too.’
To my embarrassment, I suddenly yawned. ‘Sorry. Long day.’
‘Then I’ll not be keeping you.’ He rose from the table, and I followed suit. ‘Just remember, if you need any help with a petition, I have contacts.’
When I was back in my own kitchen, I checked the time and decided that 10pm was far too late to do any major cooking. I poured myself a glass of red wine, dumped some slices of bread in the toaster, and opened a small tin of baked beans.
Morey landed on the counter as I was spooning hot beans from pot to plate. I paused to fill a second glass with Malbec before I carried my dinner to the table. ‘A full day?’ the gryphon asked.
‘More than full.’ As I cut up toast and beans, I felt my shoulders slump at the thought that I still needed to contact Sue about Sasha. ‘Since you last saw me, I’ve given baptism instruction to a child, visited a shoal of merpeople, and talked to a dragon about love and loss.’
‘I saw Raven curled up outside.’ Morey cocked his head. ‘Was it wise to pull him out of the monastery?’
‘No idea. But I didn’t feel I had any other option.’ The wine was excellent, and it felt like a waste to have paired it with beans on toast. ‘Bastien’s come with him. That’s the flying rat who’s been helping Raven.’
‘At the moment,’ Morey said, ‘the only person Bastien seems interested in is my son. I don’t think they’ve stopped swapping stories with each other all evening.’
‘It’ll be good for Jago to have another friend.’ I finished my dinner, loaded the plate into the dishwasher, and topped up my wine glass. ‘Albert, the neighbour next door, he’s developed the Sight.’
‘I suppose that’s not surprising, since his is the only house which overlooks your back garden.’
I nodded. ‘And he thinks Lloegyr would be better protected if everyone knew about it.’
‘Really?’ Morey’s tail drummed against the kitchen counter. ‘Why?’
‘He thinks public opinion would stop the government and companies from exploiting your country.’
Morey said drily, ‘It’s obvious that Albert has a high opinion of human nature. It’s one which I fail to share.’
For a moment I felt vaguely insulted. Then I yawned, and realised I was too tired to care. ‘Anyway, that sort of decision is above my pay grade. I’ll see you in the morning.’ And I took myself and my glass of wine up the stairs.
<><><><><><>
The Yes, Minister theme chimed from my iPhone. I rolled over in bed and opened my eyes to confirm that nothing more than pre-dawn light touched my curtains. So I burrowed my head into my pillows and ignored the ministerial summons. Whatever Sue wanted would have to wait for at least another hour and until I’d had at least two cups of coffee.
The mobile stopped. I tried to drift back off to sleep. Then the landline began to shriek. I could sense the entire household stirring at the unwelcome sound. Biting back a curse, I rolled oven and picked up the handset. ‘Penny White speaking.’
‘Ah, Penny, you’re at home.’ Sue sounded far too awake at 5.30am. ‘I tried your mobile, but it must have been switched off.’
I made a noncommittal grunt. ‘You got my message. Could Sasha be brought to my house? I’d be happy to take her to Midlands WaterWorld to speak to Tarkik.’
‘That was put to Sasha. But she refuses to leave the detention centre. And the guards won’t drag her out. They say it’ll only end in a riot. You’ll have to meet her in Stillbrook. The governor’s expecting you at ten. Will you make your own way there, or shall I send a driver?’
‘I can make my own way.’ I unlocked my iPhone and stared at my on-line calendar. ‘Tell the governor I’ll arrive when I can.’
‘And what do you mean by that?’
‘I have every concern for the crew on the HMS Themis, and I have a meeting in the parish this morning.’ I took a deep breath. ‘I’ll come by dragon, so it’ll be quicker than by car.’
‘Even by air it’ll take at least an hour.’
I decided not to correct her. The idea of the government learning about the short-cuts offered by air thin places made me shudder. Who knew what they would do with such knowledge? ‘I’ll leave as soon as I finish my meeting. The dragon can take both of us to Tarkik, and we’ll work out a way to transport him to Lloegyr.’
‘The dragon walks you through a crossing place?’
‘We use a thin place, yes.’
‘Still quite a flight to the merpeople, though?’
I wasn’t awake enough for this sort of probing. ‘I’ll let you know when I’ve arrived at Stillbrook.’
‘And when you’ve left, please, with Sasha.’
I hung up, put my mobile phone on to charge, and stumbled downstairs in search of caffeine and sustenance. After Morning Prayer, I compared diaries with Skylar while Morey and Clyde looked on. ‘No, I don’t know why Mr Somersby wants to see me,’ I admitted. ‘But he sounded very upset when he phoned. I’ve promised to drop by this morning. Skylar, can you drive us over?’
My curate gave me a puzzled look. ‘Won’t you be using your new car?’
‘What new car?’
‘The Golf parked on the drive.’
I hurried from the study. A thick envelope rested just inside the front door, obviously pushed through the letterbox at some point in the early morning. Inside was vehicle documentation and two sets of keys. When I opened the door, I was somehow unsurprised to see a red Volkswagen Golf parked outside.
‘I can’t accept it,’ I said to Morey as he landed on my shoulder. ‘It must have come from the Consortium, and I don’t want to owe anything to a rat king.’
‘You don’t know for certain that the Consortium’s sent it to you.’
‘Come on, Morey, who else could it be?’ I jiggled the keys in my hands. ‘They must have picked what I said when we left their room.’
‘Well, if it is from them, I’m not certain upsetting the Consortium is a good idea,’ Morey continued. ‘Besides, you do need a car. You could at least use it until you’ve sorted something else out. Then just sell it quietly and give the money to charity, if that makes you feel better.’
All sensible advice. I returned to the study with the paperwork to quickly arrange road tax and insurance. Raven stared at me through the window, so I popped outside to let him know that we’d probably be flying off after an early lunch. Afterwards, Skylar and Morey accompanied me outside for the first trip in the new motor.
The sheer amount of kit inside the car amazed me. Built-in SatNav, all sorts of functions scattered across the steering wheel and dashboard, sensors which beeped as I reversed off the drive. The engine purred and the rich smell from the leather seats was intoxicating. I kept trying to assure myself that my ownership was only temporary.
Mr Somersby lived in a bungalow near the edge of Beckeridge. I stalled the car while reversing into a spot on the road. Neither of my companions made a comment as I restarted the engine and finished my manoeuvre. Considering how different the Golf felt after thirteen years with my Ford, I was quite pleased to have only stalled the once.
Morey assumed his usual position on my shoulder as we strode up the path through the immaculate front garden. A moment after I’d rung the doorbell, a man opened the door. He looked to be in his late fifties, wearing an old blue sweatshirt and in need of a shave. ‘Mr Somersby?’ I asked. ‘I’m Penny White, the vicar, and this is my colleague, Skylar Grey. You asked me to call?’
The man rubbed his chin, fingers rasping against the dark hairs. ‘Thank you, Reverend. We were at our wits’ end not knowing what to do.’
‘I’m certain we can help,’ Skylar said in a soothing tone.
‘Come on in. It’s this way.’ Mr Somersby led us through the entrance hall to the lounge. And there, resting on a coffee table, was a small oak box bearing a brass pla
que.
‘What is that?’ Morey demanded, and my other Lloegyr citizen looked equally perplexed.
I walked over and read out the name. ‘Edna Field. The casket must contain her ashes.’
Mr Somersby’s face paled. Both Skylar and Morey drew back. ‘Her ashes weren’t left on the funeral pyre?’ my curate demanded.
‘Her culture has some interesting customs,’ I quickly explained to the only other human in the room. ‘Many people do choose to be cremated, Skylar. What happens to the ashes is up to the next of kin. Some people arrange for them to be buried, others scatter the ashes at a place of significance to the deceased. At other times, the family can’t decide, and the casket is stored somewhere, often for years.’
‘Myself and the wife bought this house a few months ago,’ Mr Somersby said. ‘I was doing some work on the storm porch, and when I tried to enlarge the area around the outside light, this nearly fell on me. I think the previous chap must have put the box in the loft, and it fell down thorough the floorboards.’
‘Mr and Mrs Field lived here before you,’ I mused. ‘But Mrs Field’s name is Margaret. I took Fred Field’s funeral about a year ago, just before Margaret put this house up for sale.’ I peered at the dates listed below her name. ‘She was born too early to be a daughter.’
‘I’ve spoken to Margaret,’ Mr Somersby said. ‘Edna was Fred’s first wife, and they had no children together. He must have forgotten all about the ashes. I asked Margaret if she wanted them, and she doesn’t.’
‘And he’s surprised about that?’ Morey asked, sounding amused. ‘Her husband’s first wife’s ashes?’
‘It must be a bit unsettling for her,’ Skylar said. ‘The idea that Edna was around during their marriage in such a physical way.’
‘It’s upset me and the wife,’ Mr Somersby admitted. ‘It’s like, well, digging up a body in the back garden, isn’t it? She was never laid to rest. Not properly.’
I picked my words carefully. ‘Have you felt any disturbances in the house?’
He shook his head. ‘No. Just before all this, Alison and I were saying how peaceful it all felt, living in this village and everything.’
