Betrayals
Page 63

“Unwise. Not stupid.”
I smiled for him. “Okay, will you keep me from doing anything unwise?”
“I will.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“They’re going to give you the house,” Gabriel said.
Gabriel and I were sitting in the garden behind the Carew place. That’s where the elders wanted to hold our meeting. They’d be here shortly. Until then, I was poking around the garden, tugging vines from statuary, saying, “Oooh, a dryad. And a baby griffin.” Gabriel sat on the bench, watching me, saying nothing until …
“They’re going to give you the house.”
I glanced over. “Hmm?”
“Why do you think they asked you to meet them here?”
I straightened. “It’s a reminder of my roots. Yet another way for them to tell me I belong in Cainsville.” I sat beside him on the bench. “Should I fight that?”
“Not if you agree.”
“I could argue, just to be contrary, but they know it’s bullshit. I moved back to Cainsville because this is where I want to be. For now it’s home. If I don’t do what they want and they kick me out …” I shrugged. “It’ll hurt, but I’m not going to choose their side just to stay.”
“They won’t force you out. No matter what you decide. They’ll want to retain some influence over you, and in return, if you choose to make Cainsville your permanent home, it will be. Which is why they’re going to give you this house.”
“That would be quite the bribe.”
“Perhaps ‘give’ is the wrong word. They would do so, if necessary, but you have your trust fund coming due shortly and accepting the house as a gift puts you too far in their debt. So they will make you a very reasonable offer.”
When I didn’t reply, he said, “It’s what you want, isn’t it? This?”
I looked around, imagining what I’d do with the gardens, with the house, how I’d make it mine, this magical perfect place.
Six months ago, I’d been living in my family home. Now I was on my own, having started a career I’d never imagined, living a life I’d never imagined, and considering buying a house, putting down roots in a town where I already had deep ones. Embracing this new life. Making it mine. Was I ready for that?
After a minute of silence, he said, “What’s that one?”
I followed his finger and could see the barest sliver of gray through a thick tangle of undergrowth. I hunkered down and began pulling back a branch, but he said, “Careful,” just as a thorn pricked my finger.
“Wild roses,” he said as he came up beside me.
“Not cranky gargoyle babies?”
I got a quarter smile for that. “No, not this time.” He crouched beside me and reached to untangle the rosebush from whatever statuary it hid, working carefully so as not to break the branch, saying, “Now the trick is to pull it like …” As I watched him, the scene hitched, and I was crouching in a meadow, beside a rabbit hole, Gwynn beside me, no more than ten or eleven, whispering, “Now the trick is to wait very quietly, until they think the coast is clear and …” A baby rabbit popped its head out and Gwynn scooped it up as Matilda laughed, and he held it out for her.
The scene faded, and Gabriel was tugging back the last of the branches. “There. Now let’s see what …” He glanced over at me and frowned. “Olivia?”
I could feel the trickle of a tear on my cheek. I wiped it away and smiled. “Just the thorn. It startled me.” I inched up beside him, being careful not to get too close and make him jump away. “Oh, it’s …” I stopped. “I have no idea what it is.”
“It’s certainly odd. Let me clear away the rest of this.”
The statue looked like a tiny man, somewhere between a dwarf and a gnome, exceedingly ugly, wearing a helmet and carrying a lantern.
“Is it … a tommy knocker?” I said.
“Close,” said a voice behind us. “It’s a coblynau.”
I turned so abruptly I tottered. Gabriel put his hand to my back to steady me. Ida walked into the garden, followed by Walter and Veronica, and Gabriel’s lips tightened, as if he was annoyed at the interruption.
“We’ll wait inside,” Veronica said. “You can finish exploring the garden.”
“No, it’s fine,” Gabriel said curtly as we rose. He led me toward the house, his hand still against my back. Then he glanced back at the garden, and his voice softened a little as he said to Veronica, “You said a coblynau?”
“Yes. A Welsh version of the tommy knocker. In folklore, if miners are kind and feed them, they’ll help by tapping at particularly rich areas. In truth, they were originally mountain-dwelling fae. Now they live urban lives, like most. They are hardworking, generally kind-hearted. If you are good to them, they will be good to you in return. That’s true of most fae, but coblynau are more inclined to see goodness and return it. They are not particularly given to tricks.”
“Are there any in Cainsville?” I asked.
She smiled. “Perhaps,” she said, and her eyes glinted in a way that made me say, “Wait, are you—?” but she was already through the back door.
We followed her. The house was quiet and still, as it was whenever I visited. It had been empty for years and even thinking of that made me ache, just a little. I could feel the history here. My history. For such a beautiful old house to sit empty …