He felt a better man for his current strategy, worthier of laying claim to Grace’s love, and his intent to destroy the dark entity never wavered. In fact, he did not even need to pull power from Farfur, for they worked in conjunction, with his hound willingly feeding him. When they won, and they would win, his connection to Farfur would be responsible for saving all those whom he loved, including his mother. His father would have been proud.
The dark entity continued to surge up and swoop down, feasting on itself, its appetite stirred into a fervor by Dewer’s magical influence. Screaming cries accompanied his zig-zag flight and then suddenly all went silent. Below, a tiny black sparkling puddle continued to heave up and down until it winked out of existence.
Dewer had been waiting for that sign. He shut down his connection to Farfur so it could no longer act as a constant homing beacon to Lucifer. Dewer landed on the ground and with Farfur still in his arms, he raced after Alfred. The legion of flying demons swooped after him but a check back showed those on his trail soon scattered, no longer able to trace their prey. Lucifer had lost his scent. Dewer chuckled, envisioning the dark angel’s fury at his loss.
Time to enact the second part of this plan.
He cringed at what he would be asking of his innocent lover. In essence, to turn a shade darker. Up to you now, Grace. Can you deceive as effectively as my mother?
Chapter 16
ONCE DEWER CAUGHT UP to Alfred, he transported himself and Farfur physically into Kemp. The staff was surprisingly dark so he brightened it and instantly spotted Lleland and his mother in a compromising position on a high bed, limbs and tentacles flailing. The air reeked of their enthusiastic lovemaking.
On seeing him, his mother hurried to make herself presentable. Too late!
Dewer turned his back to them, nose twitching in rejection of the love-scented room. Gently, he laid Farfur on the ground. “Kemp, open a window!”
Fresh air blew in, cooling his hot skin. This was what had been distracting the water god.
“Next time knock,” Lleland said.
“There will be no next time,” his mother snapped.
“Oh, there will be many next times,” the water god replied with confidence.
Farfur’s soft cry held Dewer’s undivided attention. Without his familiar’s magic bolstering him, he was exhausted but he used the vestiges of his energy to lay a healing balm over the hound’s wounded side. Farfur’s skin began to knit, his fur lost that horrific burning stench and the hound returned to his former scraggly form.
The effort left Dewer shaking but relieved. Farfur would live. Good thing he was kneeling or his mother would discover just how close he had come to failing.
Farfur licked his hand in thanks.
“You may turn around now,” his mother said. “Tell me how you fared. Why did you not call for help?”
As if they would have heard. “The entity is no more.”
Farfur rose, tail wagging. He offered his help with his master’s wound, but Dewer raised a warning hand. Sweet of him to offer to help when he himself was recovering but Dewer was not about to risk using even a hint of his familiar’s magic until after they had all safely departed the underworld.
Girding his strength, he stood to face his mother. He adjusted his waistcoat and aimed for a calm confident demeanor. His left sleeve was ruined and his hand throbbed, looking red and inflamed. He hid it behind his back. “The creature consumed itself.”
“You did that? By yourself?” His mother sounded impressed. “What about Lucifer?”
Did she finally understand that he was more than capable of handling his own affairs? “The dark angel is busy convincing his legion that he was not truly willing to sacrifice them to the dark entity just to get me.”
“Excellent,” his mother said, but one of her eyebrows rose as if in awe. “So, now we can escape from this prison.”
“I have asked a friend to deliver Kemp to Grace.”
“That was extremely foolish, Devil. Just when I begin to think you have grown up, you prove me wrong. She abandoned you in the underworld, after incapacitating me.”
“Grace went to the upper world to chase the dark entity my way so I could end it once and for all. We both succeeded. Do not underestimate her. It would be a grave mistake. One Lucifer has already made.”
“How?”
“Ask her yourself, once we are home.”
“I have no home up there,” his mother said.
“You may stay with me,” Lleland said with a leer.
“You might want to consider his offer,” Dewer said. “You will not receive a welcome back in the underworld.”
His dark tower would be Grace’s new home, leaving no room there for his mother to interfere. He absently scratched Farfur behind his ears as he gazed at a false view of Wales out a window. He imagined strolling hand-in-hand with Grace along that craggy mountain crest. Pictured their children race up the black tower’s magical stairs playing hide and seek. Once they were old enough, perhaps his children could partner for a chess match with their parents on his backyard board.
“What are we waiting for then?” his mother asked. “I want out of this confounded staff, Devil. Now!”
Kemp shook violently then, flinging them to the floor. The room went dark. Once the shaking stopped, Dewer stood as Kemp lit lamps around the room. “We have arrived. By the way, I asked Alfred not to mention to Grace that I am in here.”
“Why would you do that?” his mother asked. “If she thinks I’m here, even if Lleland is with me, she will never let me out!”
“I have requested her to do so.”
“You lovesick fool!” his mother railed. “You have doomed us to an eternity of isolation.” She slumped back onto the bed, for once looking defeated.
“The boy wants the girl to choose him,” Lleland said in a soft soothing tone. The bed creaked as he sat beside her.
The sound was shockingly intimate, more so than him intruding on them on it together. When in public, his mother never allowed anyone to act so familiar in her presence.
“How will staying trapped in here gain him that?” she asked with scorn. “He has never even attempted to seduce her. I know. I have been watching them.”
Her astute words shocked Dewer. She was right. He had never truly courted Grace. On the other hand, since the moment they met in her mother’s drawing room, she had been after him. She had flirted outrageously. Teased him by withholding his hellhounds. Even kissed him in his mother’s house and offered herself body and soul.
“What the boy wants,” Lleland said, “is for the healing witch to value not just him, but those whom he cares for.”
Dewer’s brand heated, making his right arm ache as much as his abused left. Was it through this link that the water god gained his startling insight? He hoped Lleland did not delve too deep or he might ruin the game.
“Your son waits for the healing witch to release you into her world, whatever the consequence,” Lleland finished, proving even if he had read Dewer’s deepest thoughts, he was not a spoiler. He might make a decent father yet.
“She will never do that,” his mother said, sitting up. “Her vile family wouldn’t allow it. The sanctimonious Coven Protectress would forbid it.”
“Precisely,” Lleland said.
“Then we will remain trapped,” she said in a harsh whisper. “Is that what you want, Devil? To bind us forever?”
He faced her. “Grace cares about me, mother, and by extension, she will care about you.”
“If she does not,” Lleland said, “at least you will have your precious son all to yourself.” The fact he did not call Dewer an idiot proved the water god was all in on this play. Or was his aim to win his mother’s affection by eliminating Dewer’s draw on her attention? Either way, Dewer was glad the water god was on his side and not against him.
“Not having to compete for your son’s affections with another woman, would that not suffice as adequate recompense for losing your freedom?�
�� Lleland asked, driving home the point. “What matter if he is miserable?”
To his surprise, his mother did not look pleased by the bargain the water god presented. Her gaze slid away, a frown marring her beautiful forehead. Then she glanced back his way with a suspicious frown. “As this pertains to my future, I want to see and hear what they discuss outside.”
With a wave, Dewer dispersed with Kemp’s walls until they appeared to be underwater, held by a dark robed figure.
“Death carries us?” his mother asked with a laugh. “How appropriate.”
GRACE TURNED TO SHOW her family that the river wall no longer sported a hole to the underworld, and spotted Alfred, Death’s envoy, hovering by a tall billowing plant. He held aloft Dewar’s staff. Fear streaked through her as he pointed upward and then vanished.
Grace shot to the surface.
“Is everything all right?” Jonas scrambled up from where he had been reclining on the riverbank.
“Yes, we won,” she said and raced past him shouting, “Dewer! Are you back?”
Bartos was at her heel. She called his beloved name again and again into the misty air. Her throat was raw by the time her mother pulled her into a comforting hold. “Enough child.”
Grace turned into her embrace, sobbing, unable to contain her wild thoughts. Why had Alfred been holding Dewer’s staff? “Oh, Mama, we were going to have a Wyhcan wedding.”
Mistress Grace, Alfred mind spoke, Come here.
Grace tore out of her mother’s hold and magically sped toward the tree line that Alfred showed her. Bartos barked as he followed, with Ifan galloping behind.
Alfred’s dark robe allowed him to meld into the shadows. She blinked a few times to discern his features. This time, flesh covered his tall slender frame. Bartos sniffed at the scythe resting by a nearby tree and then growled at it. Even without holding his weapon of trade, Alfred made a darkly striking impact, but he was not whom she sought.
“Why could Dewer not bring that himself?” she asked, pointing to Kemp.
He said to tell you, the game is on.
What did that mean? What was she supposed to do? Then she recalled Dewer’s parting words. Grace, when this is over, be prepared to match my mother’s deviousness.
Before she could ask for more details, Llyn was beside them. She pointed to the staff. “Is my father still in there?”
Alfred stared at the goddess wide-eyed. Llyn’s presence had rendered him speechless. Grace could almost see the angles of his eye sockets.
She grabbed hold of his robe. “Alfred, where is Dewer?” For her audience’s sake, she added a quiver to her tone, though it came easier than it should have. She was still afraid. Though now she suspected that Dewer was safe, she wanted to see him, to verify that fact.
“Yes, the water god is inside the staff,” Alfred said. Then quickly added, “Do not fear, he is safe. Unfortunately, the dark angel has sealed all doorways to the upperworld to prevent Mr. Dewer from escaping.”
“Oh, no!” Grace’s shaky confidence faltered. If he could not leave, she must go and fetch him. How, if all the doorways were sealed shut?
“He asked me to transport his staff to you,” Alfred shoved Dewer’s staff into her hand, “so you can awaken his mother and then set her free.” He then whispered the words of the spell to release the queen in her ear.
Grace’s racing thoughts settled, for Alfred had told her exactly what she needed to hear. She had told Dewer she would wake his mother before she left the underworld, in case he needed her help. Asking her to do so now was a ruse.
She gazed at Kemp. If all the doors out of the underworld were shut, and only Alfred and this staff could get out... Ah! The game is on, indeed.
Her first impulse was to free his mother then and there. She squashed that idea, considering what would the queen of the underworld do in this circumstance? Like an expert chess player, Eolonde would canvas the landscape and consider all possible moves and countermoves.
This was how it felt to act deceptively. To lie. To be part of the world in which Dewer had grown up. She should feel ashamed, for in pretending that she believed Dewer was lost to her, she was about to upset all her family and friends. Instead, Grace was shocked at how thrilling being bad felt.
“After he and I separated,” Alfred continued, “he went to fight the dark entity, while I, with this staff, led the monsters in danger of being consumed toward safety.”
Dewer did that for me. Grace was certain of it. As he had when he saved those hornets. She bent her head as if in grief, but her chest swelled with love, not sorrow.
“His mother can never return to my world,” Alfred added. “Lucifer will not allow it. Which is why Dewer wanted you to release her here.”
“What about my father?” Llyn added.
“Is he not a deity?” Merryn asked, hurrying over with the rest of Grace’s party. “He can release himself. If Dewer’s mother is in there, we cannot allow her to roam free in our world again.”
“If my father could escape, he would have done so already,” Llyn said in high dudgeon. “He imprisoned himself to help all of you. I demand you release him now.”
Grace cringed inwardly at upsetting Llyn. Lleland was not as selfless as his daughter made out but neither did she wish him ill.
Llyr touched his sister’s hand. “This is a land matter.” Though his gaze, too, pleaded for mercy for his father.
The water goddess shook off his hold and turned to Alfred. “You brought back the staff. Can you not help? Please? I will do anything to free my father. Do you want my soul?”
“Llyn, no!” her brother and Grace shouted in unison.
“My lady,” Alfred said, “I do not want your soul. If I could have released your father, I would have done so already. I cannot.”
Grace breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief.
“I have already broken every rule I hold dear, simply by transporting the staff into the upper world,” Alfred said.
“Why?” Llyn asked, looking concerned. “What will happen to you?”
He shook his head and pulled out a tablet. “I suspect my days of collecting souls of the dead are over. This has not worked since I left the underworld.”
“I will speak on your behalf,” Llyn said. “Even if you cannot release my father, you brought him home. I owe you for that alone. Tell me who your supervisor is, and once my father is free, I will stand up for you. You have my word.”
Alfred’s boney hand came up to gently stroke her cheek. “For that offer, they can throw me into the lake of fire and I will still die a happy reaper.”
“We must decide what we are going to do with Burns,” her mother said, “and then we will know what to do about the water god.”
Grace turned around, her grip on Dewer’s staff tight. “This is my decision. Alfred gave me this staff.”
“Then consider your action carefully, cousin,” Merryn said. “For what you do now could result in the death of many humans. The dark fae queen free in this realm again? Think of the destruction she will rain on us.”
“Grace,” her mother said. “You always act in the best interest of others. Follow that counsel and I am certain you will know the right thing to do.”
“I do not want to disappoint you, Mama,” Grace said, knowing that was exactly what she was about to do.
“Never,” her mother said. “Do you not know that you are the light I hold up to all my daughters?”
“Thank you.” Her thoughts in turmoil, Grace hugged her mother. She then walked away; her heart heavy. Did she trust Dewer and his belief that his mother would not harm any of them once she accepted Grace into her family?
The answer was an unqualified, Yes. She alone would be responsible for any repercussions from her decision.
At the center of the clearing, she held out her free hand and summoned her staff in preparation for casting the spell to release those trapped within Kemp. “Joy!”
Her staff immediately filled her grip, but the wood was
covered in vines again. “Why are you constantly sprouting leaves and flowers?”
Joy trembled within her hold and then her staff filled Grace’s troubled mind with visions of animals mating and people coupling. Anywhere that rain fell on alleyways and side streets, back gardens and flower pots, flowers sprouted and imbued the air with an enticing, sweet-scented, lusty perfume.
Instead of getting angry at her grandmother – she could just imagine the population explosion about to hit London – Grace could have kissed the old witch. This was exactly the answer she needed. A grim smile twitched at her mouth.
Shall I break the love-spell? Joy asked with concern.
“Not yet.” Grace gestured for the water goddess to approach. “Llyn, can you make it rain in this meadow?”
The goddess raised an eyebrow in surprise and then, mouthing, thank you, she nodded and ran to her brother’s side.
There, she and Llyr held hands and together pointed to the clouds. A joint bolt of energy shot upwards and struck the clouds. Thunder rumbled overhead and rain peppered Grace’s cheeks. Then it began to pour in earnest.
Her family, and even Alfred, hurried under the cover of trees. Grace stood in the downpour and held up Dewer’s staff, and spun the spell Alfred gave her to release those trapped within.
Kemp whirled, turning faster until rays of light speared out all along the wood. Two figures appeared within that blinding blur of light. Once they were fully formed, within a heartbeat, the rain drenched them both.
Eolonde, once Queen of the Underworld, shook herself until droplets flung away, leaving her and her clothing completely dry and pristine. A swiftly enacted shield kept further raindrops from soiling her.
Lleland, water god of Britain, seemed to relish the downpour. He held his arms wide and turned his face up, eyes closed as if in adulation. “Clean! My waters are clean again.” He licked his lips with a thoughtful look. “Has an odd little sweet tone. Reminds me of the Creator’s work. Has a terrible sweet tooth, that one.”
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