![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seren_ccdTitle: Music Take me Underground - Part Two
Fandom: Teeth, Claws and Guinness
Ship: Various original pairings
Word Count: 5,351
Rating: PG-13, mild violence and language
Disclaimer: They are, well, actually, these guys are mine. All of them. I did borrow a set of characters from Terry Pratchett. However, if you ask them, they’ll say they were their own to begin with and he borrowed them. Either way, no infringement meant! Also the title comes from Evacuate the dance floor by Cascada. Yeah, I know, shut up.
I’ve also taken some (probably) extreme liberties with Latin.
A/N: This has been beta'd by the fabulous![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fringedweller. Diolch en fawr! :D
And a massive, MASSIVE 'Thank you!' to all of you for indulging this little experiment of mine! I hope you like it!
Summary: The Autumn Festival in Cwm Alaw has always been known for food, games, mischief and dancing. However, no one ever expected this.
Part One
The morning of the Festival dawned with a low-lying haze coming down from the mountains. A damp warmth stirred in the breeze and folks were thankful for it as opposed to the usual frosty mornings November was known for. It was the night just before the full moon, so there would be plenty of natural light as the evening wore on.
Evan and Hannah left the house early in the day to help with the set-up. Hannah had plenty of things to do with her own stand and Bryn was there to lend a hand. Evan headed over to see Harry Porter and helped to arrange the straw-bale maze which most of the stalls would be right in front of.
The maze itself was pretty simple and it was only two hay bales high, which meant it was low enough for the parents to keep an eye on their kids, but high enough to give the illusion of a closed in maze.
They’d put the last bale in its place when the first of the festival goers arrived. Harry grinned at Evan.
“Have a good time of it,” Harry said to him. “Keep an eye on Mr. Matthews, though. He tends to overdo it with the ale.”
“Good to know,” Evan said. “Have fun with the woodturning.”
They waved each other on and Evan headed towards the Sheep and Crow stall.
Halfway there, he noticed Annie Thomas having a hard time getting the leg of her display table to lock into place, so he stopped to help.
“Oh, thank you,” she said as he gave it a good whack. “Damn thing never locks when I do it.”
“It’s a pleasure,” Evan said. He moved onto her other table while she set out her velvet throws and placed finely wrought jewellery upon the fabric. Evan finished putting together the last table and stopped to admire some of necklaces.
“Aren’t they lovely?” Mrs. Thomas asked proudly. “My daughter does them. She’s down in Brecon, but always sends some up to me around this time of year.”
She turned away to open another case of jewellery and Evan reached out his hand to get a better look at one of the pendants. As soon as his finger touched the chain, a sharp burst of pain seared the tip of his finger. He hissed and jerked his hand back. A small burn mark was visible on his flesh.
“They’re pure silver,” Mrs. Thomas said turning back around. “Would you like to see this one more closely?”
She made a move to hand him one of the necklaces and Evan said loudly, “No! I mean, no. Thank you.”
Mrs. Thomas looked confused but smiled as he nodded his good-bye to her. She thanked him again for helping as he walked away.
Evan glanced down at his hand, but the mark was already beginning to fade. He gritted his teeth and told himself to worry about his new-found allergy to silver later.
Hannah was already setting out bottles of ales and lagers from all over Wales by the time he got over to the stall. She smiled when she saw him. Bryn gave him a thumbs up and continued to serve the early customers.
“Hey! Get dressed, Mr. Matthews is already on his way over for a second honey beer. I’ve got to go change my clothes,” Hannah said. She grabbed her bag and dashed away.
“Yes ma’am.” Evan ducked under the counter and shucked his jacket for the woollen waistcoat and gave a smile of satisfaction as he pulled the bowler hat out of its bag. He put it on his head and gave it a jaunty tilt off his forehead.
Then he headed out to help Bryn serve and generally chat with the local lads and gents.
A low whistle drew his attention away from carrying the back-up crate of Tomos Watkin’s and he turned his head to see Hannah approaching the stall. Evan felt his jaw drop and the wolf inside him growled in pleasure.
She was wearing a full-length peasant skirt in gold and brown paisley. The skirt swirled around her long, slim legs and he could hear the faintest of jingling sounds and caught a flash of gold adorning her ankle. Her shirt was an off-white, off the shoulder peasant blouse and it cinched in at her waist with a thick leather belt. She was the epitome of a gypsy girl come to sell her drink to the local populace.
She also looked good enough to eat.
Evan knew he was staring. He knew that Hannah could see him staring. He didn’t stop staring. She made it all the way to the stall and stood directly in front of him. A corner of her mouth lifted up.
She reached up and flicked the brim of his hat. “It really does suit you,” she said.
“You look incredible,” he said in a voice much lower than usual.
Hannah smiled and blushed. “Good. Now, keep the locals in line while I sell my wares. And, if you’re very good, I may give you a sample of them later.” She gave him a decidedly arch look as she swept past him to start filling drink orders.
Evan let out a deep breath and moved to stand on the other side of the counter.
A few of the pub regulars gave him grins and he just grinned back and hollered, “Right! All you ne‘er do wells best be mindin’ yourselves as I won’t be hesitatin’ to thrash ever’ last one of ya’s! Now, get lined up all neat like!”
Everyone laughed and obeyed at once. He caught Hannah’s laughing eyes and gave her a wicked wink.
The rest of the afternoon was busy. People from all over the village and surrounding farms had come to dance a little, let their kids run wild in the hay maze, get their faces painted and just have a good time.
Elinor and Portia had a stand just across from Hannah’s and the white rocks Evan and she had collected lined the table in careful patterns where they sold their scones and other cakes.
Harry had his lathe and other woodturning equipment set up and was handing out some gorgeously carved figures and candleholders.
Dr. Carson and Dr. Kelly were both in attendance and wandered about the crowds, lending a hand where they could along with the occasional plaster.
The afternoon went by quickly and Evan only had to break up one skirmish featuring the Hughes brothers. But, considering the two men had been squabbling since their mother gave birth to them, it was nothing out of the ordinary.
Night always fell quick and quiet in the valley, so it had a tendency to sneak up on a person. One moment, the sun was shining low in the sky, the next, people were rushing around turning on large outdoor lamps as the street lights switched on.
Most of the younger set headed inside for dinner and bedtime. Most of the rest hung around as the local band got themselves set up on the small stage just outside the maze.
The band, called Daffydd’s Daffies, started off with a fast-paced jig that had most everyone tapping their toes. A few more adventurous souls took to the dance floor and had the crowd whooping and shouting in approval.
Hannah and Bryn were slinging pints and cracking open bottles of bitters and lagers as fast as they could. Finally, when it seemed like they’d served nearly every villager at least three times, they took a break. Evan propped himself against the front of the stall as Hannah came to stand next to his side.
She leaned against his side with a sigh and Evan slid an arm around her waist.
“Good day?” he asked.
“Hey, it’s not over yet,” Hannah said elbowing him in the side. “How’s your dancing ability?”
“Painful to watch, I’m afraid,” he said. “Whereas I bet you glide across the floor like Ginger Rogers.”
“More like Martha Graham,” Elinor said with a chuckle as she approached. She made a funny movement with her arms and torso that had Harry behind her ducking to get out of the way and Hannah pinching her side.
“Like you’re the epitome of grace and rhythm, cheeky cow,” Hannah said.
The four leaned against the stall and Elinor and Hannah cheered and whistled when they saw Bryn gallantly ask for Portia’s hand in a dance. The two joined the rest on the dance floor and easily started a waltz, Portia laughing as Bryn beamed.
“Go, Uncle Bryn!” Hannah called out. He threw her a wink as they whirled around with the other couples, including Stev and Grace. Stev looked particularly dashing with his dark hair slicked back and Grace wore a gorgeous dress of royal blue.
A lone older gentleman burst onto the floor jerking about and flailing his arms and legs in every which way.
“Ah, Christ,” Evan said shaking his head. “I thought I took Mr. Matthews’ pint from him. How’d he get another?”
Mr. Matthews continued to writhe about the dance floor, his limbs not appearing to follow any set rhythm. He finally started to bump into a few people. Evan squeezed Hannah’s waist and spoke into her ear, “Best be getting him down from there and on to nursing a cuppa.”
She nodded and Harry joined him as Evan headed towards the dance floor.
Just as they reached the stage, a woman sailed past them, her arms pin-wheeled about as her feet moved far too quickly. She careened into another person and instead of stopping to apologise, continued to dance across the floor.
“Umm, was that Miss Groves?” Harry asked, a frown appearing on his face. “She’s the poster woman for good manners, what the heck was that?”
Evan opened his mouth to comment, but another person came flailing past, this time a young man, his mouth open in horror as his arms and legs jerked about in a parody of dancing.
“Harry, this isn’t looking right,” Evan said, watching Miss Groves, Mr. Matthews and two more people thrash about on the dance floor.
“Not right at all,” Harry said.
“Guys.” Elinor’s voice came from behind them. She and Hannah had followed them and were surveying the crowd on the dance floor. Evan watched and saw a flash of green and pink appear just in front of a woman sitting on the edge of the floor. She jumped to her feet and started to dance, a cry of surprise escaping her.
“Damn those little buggers,” Hannah said. “Ellie, did you see him?”
“Yes, I did,” she said angrily. “They promised me no funny stuff.”
“What do we do?” Harry asked. “Is it some kind of spell? Will it wear off?”
“I don’t know,” Elinor said. “I need to know what he’s doing. Glen!”
The leader of the Glenlings appeared in a snap. “I’m trying to stop him, Miss Ellie-witch. He’s a fast one. Kind of makes you proud, how fast he is.”
“I don’t care how fast he is,” Elinor said, putting her hands on her hips. “He’s going to get someone hurt. Get him to stop.”
“Righty right!” Glen disappeared.
Evan looked back at the dance floor. More people were now moving about erratically and sweat was dripping down poor Mr. Matthews red face.
“Crap. We’ve got to get help him,” Hannah said. “He’s going to have a coronary.”
Portia and Bryn joined them with concerned looks on their faces. “Ellie, what’s going on?” Portia asked.
“One of the Glenlings, apparently,” Elinor said. “Mum, how do we stop it?”
Portia looked at her daughter and took her hands in hers. “You’ve been reading, you know what to do.”
Elinor looked uncertain and opened her mouth to speak, when Glen re-appeared out of breath.
“Can’t pant- quite -gasp- catch -pant- him,” Glen said. “But, I heard him say something like trippy-do demmens.”
Elinor looked stunned. “That’s a hardcore spell! It’ll make anyone dance themselves to death!”
“What?” Evan asked. “It’s what?”
“You’ve heard of St. Vitus? Well, this is that in its magical form,” Elinor said. “We’ve got to stop him and get these people still and calm before it destroys their nervous system.”
“Can you stop them from dancing?” Hannah asked her friend seriously.
Elinor looked dubious and bit her lip. She looked at her mother. Portia nodded, strength and love shining in her eyes as she said, “Of course she can. She can do anything.”
A flash of pink caught Evan’s eye and he turned just in time to see a little Glenling point his finger at Bryn and open his mouth to speak.
Hannah saw the pictsie too, and shouted, “No!”
She pushed Bryn out of the way just as the Glenling said, “Tripudo demens!”
A tiny spark of blue hit Hannah in her mid-section and with a cry, she whirled away from them, Evan and Bryn desperately calling after her.
“I’m fine!” Hannah yelled, as she tried to control her movements and not run into anyone, her skirt swirling around her legs as she spun. “Help the others!”
Evan was horrified as he watched her body spin without grace or direction.
He made a move to go after her, but he was stopped by Bryn’s hand on his arm. The younger man looked at Hannah’s uncle, who had a look of fierce determination on his face.
“She gave you an order, young man,” he said. “I’ll keep an eye on her. Go help Miss Elinor and Mr. Porter.”
Evan made as if to argue, but the look in Bryn’s eyes stopped him. Evan gave Hannah’s dancing form one last look and then turned to follow Elinor, Portia and Harry as they tried to capture the afflicted villagers.
Once Dr. Carson and Yanmei had been located and informed of the situation, they immediately did their best to restrain the people who were dancing uncontrollably.
But, it seemed as they managed to grab one person, another would rush past. Someone ran into a stall selling wind chimes and with a crash, the panels came down with a wave of clanging and ringing.
Evan and Harry managed to snag Miss Groves and the poor woman could barely speak, her breath coming in little gasps as her feet kicked about and her eyes wild with fright.
Elinor studied the woman and still biting her lip, walked around her and pointed her finger at the top of Miss Groves’ spine.
“Subsisto quod sedo,” Elinor said loudly, her voice clear and steady.
Miss Groves stiffened and then slumped with a sigh. Portia stepped in to help the exhausted woman sit down.
Elinor let out a deep sigh. “Right. One down. More to go. Come on, boys.”
Evan and Harry exchanged looks and followed her as she headed back into the fray.
By this point too many people, even those not afflicted, were panicking. Many were trying to help the ones who couldn’t stop dancing. Dr. Carson and Yanmei did what they could to start a sort of triage, with Portia, Grace and Stev assisting.
As soon as one person was restrained, Elinor would rush over and cast her calming spell on their spine. Most people responded well and simply stopped to sit in a bewildered and exhausted daze.
Other had extremely elevated heart rates and were gasping so desperately for air they had to be given oxygen that Dr. Carson had brought from his office.
Evan and Harry went after the bigger fellows and often had to duck and weave to avoid getting decked in the face. Harry took a good blow to the diaphragm and wheezed for a full minute while holding down a gent from the neighbouring village.
One man who clerked at the bank tore himself away from his mates and violently threw himself across the dance floor. His mates yelled and rushed after him, but the man simply could not stop.
“Oh, shite,” Harry said from his position of holding Mr. Matthews’ upper body while Evan tried to restrain the man’s moving legs.
Evan glanced in the direction Harry was staring in and echoed the sentiment, “Oh, buggering shite.”
The man’s feet dragged him towards a free-standing outdoor lamp situated next to the haybale maze and he crashed directly into it. The lamp hit the ground with a smash and sparks flew out in a frightening starburst. Several landed on an edge of the maze and, as Evan and Harry watched, the dry hay immediately caught on fire and swiftly spread.
“Shit, shit, shit!” Elinor said as soon as she saw the fire. “Subsisto quod sedo!”
The spell hit Mr. Matthews and he crumpled to the ground, Dr. Carson already next to him with a canister of oxygen.
“We’ve got to get these folks away from the fire,” he said briskly. “I’ll get the ones you’ve cured out of here while you all try to get the others still afflicted.”
Elinor nodded sharply and grabbed at Harry’s hand and pulled him towards two more people being held by friends and family and struggling in their grasp.
Brenley stopped next to a streetlamp and watched as people rushed to help put out the fire and hold down people that he’d only wanted to make dance and have a bit of fun.
They didn’t look like they were having fun. They looked like they were having the total opposite of fun.
The flames of the fire made him flinch.
This hadn’t been part of the plan.
Brenley felt a queasiness begin in his stomach and travel up to tug at his heart and settle in his head.
He swallowed hard and disappeared.
They had managed to get one more person under control and ‘sedated’ when Evan heard Bryn calling his name. “Evan!”
He turned and his heart stuttered at the look of fear and despair on Bryn’s face. Hannah.
“Oh, god. What happened? Where is she?” Evan shouted, barely noticing Elinor and Harry right behind him.
Bryn’s face was red and his hands looked raw and had blisters forming on them. He could hardly speak, just gesture towards the maze and the blaze surrounding it.
Fear latched onto Evan’s spine and sent dark chills into his body. “No.”
“She couldn’t stop it,” Bryn said shaking his head as his entire body trembled. “And I couldn’t hold on to her. She slipped out of my hands.”
“Oh, god, your hands,” Elinor cried, then she turned her head to get Portia over. “Mum! Get over here! See to Bryn’s hands. Hannah’s in the maze!”
Evan raced towards the maze. “Hannah! Hannah! Answer me, for Christ’s sake!”
“Evan!” Hannah’s voice was faint, but he could just see her through the smoke, her red hair nearly the same shade as the flames that danced in front of her.
“Stay put! I’m coming through,” he said knowing his words were rather futile as he saw her do her best to her ‘dancing’ confined to one patch between the fiery haybales.
She shouted something at him that might have been of the ‘no, save yourself’ variety and he certainly heard Harry yelling something at him, but all Evan could hear was the blood pumping through his veins as the adrenalin surged in his body.
The wolf in him shied away from the fire and whined.
The man in him simply said, “Fuck it.”
Evan took a few steps back, paused, then hunching his shoulders ran towards the flames. With a leap that was probably far more lupine than human, he cleared the haybales and landed on the ground on the other side, falling into a quick roll and crouch.
He remained in that crouch while his eyes adjusted to the smoke and the glare of the flames. Hannah was only a few feet away, her arms arcing up and down to some internal rhythm, her feet spun her in circles that alternated between tight and small and loose and wide. Her cheeks were red from the heat and sweat ran in rivulets down the side of her face. He could see soot on her skirt and her blouse.
She had tears of exertion streaming from her eyes and it was the sight of her tears that had him springing up from his crouch and enfolding her in his arms.
Her body jerked and writhed in his grasp. He opened his mouth to speak and coughed as smoke surged in.
Hannah managed a gaspy chuckle and said, “Smooth moves, wolf-boy.”
“Only for you, MacNeil,” he said tightening his hold on her. “Elinor can fix you.”
“Sure hope so,” she said fighting to stop her head from tossing. “I love a good dance, but not quite like this.”
Evan grinned in spite of himself and adjusted his hold on her, putting an arm around her waist and the other around her upper back.
“Any time now, Elinor!” he shouted over his shoulder.
“You have to hold her head still!” Elinor yelled.
Evan tightened his hold on her waist and tears streamed down Hannah’s face and her mouth was open as she gasped in breaths. He firmly cupped the back of her head and tried to hold her in place, but she was too caught up in the spell and her head jerked out of his hand.
“No!” he shouted. “Stay with me!”
“Can’t!” she said through clenched teeth. “Evan, let-- me go--.”
Her eyes were rimmed with red from the smoke and he felt his own eyes start to water.
“Evan! Hold her still, damn it!” Elinor yelled again.
Evan gritted his teeth and pulled Hannah even tighter to him and cupped the back of her head once more and in an act of desperation, he pressed his mouth to hers.
It wasn’t a kiss.
It wasn’t kind or sweet or gentle.
It was an assault. A possession.
His lips pressed hard against hers and when she gasped, he pressed even harder, swallowing the sound. His tongue invaded her mouth and as it tangled with hers he tasted salt from her tears, copper from where she must have bitten her tongue and fear. It was the fear that made him kiss her even harder. She made a sound like a whimper and it tore at his heart, but he kept his mouth on hers, just as she tried to kiss him back. The jerking of her body next to his was painful and he could feel her heart pounding far too fast in her chest.
Distantly he heard Elinor shout something and Hannah froze, her fingers digging into his arms, and her mouth went slack.
Evan pulled back, mouth open and smoke stinging his eyes and scratching at his throat. Her face was pale under the flush from the heat, and slowly her hands loosened their grip and fell from his arms.
“Hi,” she said weakly, the smoke coming in thicker and faster around their entwined bodies.
“Hiya,” he said just as weakly.
Hannah attempted a smile before her eyes rolled back in her head and her body went limp.
Evan let out a hoarse cry as she slumped in his arms, but his hold never faltered.
“Evan! Evan! How is she? Is she out?” Elinor cried.
“Yeah!” he yelled back, starting to cough and never taking his eyes off Hannah’s face. “Get the fire out!”
“Hang on!” Harry shouted.
Evan closed his eyes and pulling Hannah fully up into his arms and sinking to the ground, he did just that.
In the end, twenty people had been struck with ‘dancing fever’, as Harry had taken to calling it. Ten of those people were fine, tired and sporting a few blisters on their heels, but fine.
Two had severe bruising from running into things and another four had sprained ankles.
Mr. Matthews was awake, but under supervision as his heart rate was still elevated and he continued to need oxygen.
Miss Groves pulled a muscle in her and was also being watched closely.
The clerk from the bank had a gash in his arm from running into the lamp as well as a concussion.
Hannah had a small burn on her leg and one on her arm from the fire, as well as several blisters on her feet.
All in all? They had been pretty damn lucky. Considering.
The fire had finally been put out with a good hour of hosing down from the volunteer firemen and most of the stalls had sustained some damage.
A number of people gathered in the Sheep and Crow to discuss the situation.
“We’ll be refunding portions of the stand fees to people,” Grace said from where she sat at one of the tables, her husband Stev beside her, his arm stretched out across the back of her chair. She shook her head. “I’ve never seen anything like that before. Has anyone?”
“Elinor is quite correct in mentioning the similarity to St. Vitus disease,” Yanmei said, “but I’ve never come across it outside of medical journals. It was...horribly fascinating.” She blushed a little and ducked her head. “And that sounded awfully callous.”
“Hardly,” Portia said as others made the same noises. “It was fascinating. And horrible. Have we heard from the little blighter, yet?”
Elinor made a face and shook her head from her spot on the floor where she leaned against Harry’s chest. “Glen said he’d find the one who was doing it and bring him to us.”
She shuddered slightly with exhaustion and Harry rubbed at her arms.
Evan raised his head as Hannah came into the room, wearing a loose fitting pair of trousers and a baggy shirt that left her burns exposed to the air. He stood up and helped her ease into a chair, then took his place next to her.
“You alright?” he asked her.
“She’d be a lot better if she’d go to bed and get some rest,” Dr. Carson said. “But, she insisted on coming down.”
Hannah waved her hand in the air. “My pub, my rules, I get to be here.”
Dr. Carson raised his hands in submission and Hannah sighed, adjusting her body closer to Evan.
Bryn came around on her other side and sat down heavily in the chair next to her. His hands were bandaged as the burns he’d sustained had been very serious. Hannah looked at him and gave him a little smile.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t hold on to you,” he said softly enough so that only she and Evan heard him.
“Oh, Uncle Bryn,” Hannah said, putting her hand on the bit of his arm that was free from burns. “Please tell me you’re not beating yourself up over this?”
“If you hadn’t pushed me out of the way--” he said.
“If I hadn’t pushed you out of the way, who knows what might have happened,” Hannah said. “And I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Make no mistake.”
“Why’d you do it, love?” he asked, meeting her eyes.
Hannah gave him a fond look. “Silly man. You’re my family.”
Bryn’s eyes watered and he smiled as he said, “Hannah bach.”
He leaned forward and reverently pressed a kiss to her forehead. Then he pulled away. “Well, I’m going to talk Stev into helping me get a round of coffee going.”
“You do that,” she said. “And don’t be stingy with the whiskey I know you’re going to be putting into it.”
Bryn gave her a wink and then gave Evan a serious nod, which Evan returned. Bryn headed over to Stev and then two headed into the back room. Portia and Grace talked quietly, while Elinor dozed in Harry’s arms. Yanmei and Dr. Carson sat at another table making notes and setting up appointments to see everyone afflicted the following day.
Hannah sighed and leaned more into Evan. He turned his head and breathed in the still smoky scent of her hair.
“You smell like a campfire,” she said, the vibration of her voice tickling his lips.
“You don’t exactly smell like a field of daisies yourself.” he retorted.
“Hmmph,” she said. Then she dislodged his head by craning hers to look into his eyes. “You kissed me.”
“Aye, I did,’” he said simply.
Hannah stared into his eyes for a few moments, before nodding and moving back to her original positions. “We’ll have to try that again sometime,” she said casually.
Evan smiled and pressed his lips to the top of her head again. “Lookin’ forward to it,” he murmured.
His eyes had just begun to close, when Glen and several other Glenlings appeared in the middle of the pub, right in from of Elinor. They had in the midst of them one smaller Glenling whose coveralls were dirty and torn and wearing such a look of terror and woe upon his face.
Elinor sat up straight and looked at Glen. “Is this the one?”
“Yes, Miss Ellie-witch. This here’s Brenley. And he’s copped to it, no question. But, it weren’t all his fault,” the leader said.
“Oh?” Elinor said, tilting her head and looking every inch the powerful witch she was slowly becoming. “And whose fault was it?”
Brenley let out a wail that shook the windows and made every human wince. He fell to his knees in front of Elinor and cried, “I didn’t know, Miss Witch! He didn’t say anything about people’s hurting themselves. Or not stopping. Ohhhhhh.”
He buried his face in his hands while his Glenling brothers looked uncomfortable.
“So, someone gave you the words?” Elinor asked gently. “Who was this, Brenley?”
Brenley lifted his head and wiped his nose. “It was a man. Well, male. He wasn’t a human. At least, not quite.”
Evan’s eye was caught by the movement of Portia pressing a hand to her breastbone.
“Where did you meet him?” Elinor asked also noticing her mother’s distress.
“In the forest, near the old oaks, off the path,” Brenley said. He furrowed his brow. “He had such dark brows and eyelashes. But his eyes? They were as light as the sky.”
“Oh,” Portia said as she closed her eyes. “Oh, damn him.”
“Mum?” Elinor said, sounding unsure. “Mum, who is he?”
“He said he’d come back one day.” Portia said almost to herself as she hunched over in her chair. “When the balance had to be restored. When things got too good, too safe. He swore he’d return. Oh, damn, damn, damn him.”
Hannah sat up and reached for Evan’s hand.
Elinor quickly crawled to grab her mother’s hands and ducked her head to meet her mother’s eyes. “Mum. Who is he?”
Portia raised her head, her eyes bright with tears. “His name is Corbellot. He’s the Trickster.” She sucked in a shaky breath. “And he’s your father.”
FIN
Fandom: Teeth, Claws and Guinness
Ship: Various original pairings
Word Count: 5,351
Rating: PG-13, mild violence and language
Disclaimer: They are, well, actually, these guys are mine. All of them. I did borrow a set of characters from Terry Pratchett. However, if you ask them, they’ll say they were their own to begin with and he borrowed them. Either way, no infringement meant! Also the title comes from Evacuate the dance floor by Cascada. Yeah, I know, shut up.
I’ve also taken some (probably) extreme liberties with Latin.
A/N: This has been beta'd by the fabulous
fringedweller. Diolch en fawr! :D And a massive, MASSIVE 'Thank you!' to all of you for indulging this little experiment of mine! I hope you like it!
Summary: The Autumn Festival in Cwm Alaw has always been known for food, games, mischief and dancing. However, no one ever expected this.
Part One
The morning of the Festival dawned with a low-lying haze coming down from the mountains. A damp warmth stirred in the breeze and folks were thankful for it as opposed to the usual frosty mornings November was known for. It was the night just before the full moon, so there would be plenty of natural light as the evening wore on.
Evan and Hannah left the house early in the day to help with the set-up. Hannah had plenty of things to do with her own stand and Bryn was there to lend a hand. Evan headed over to see Harry Porter and helped to arrange the straw-bale maze which most of the stalls would be right in front of.
The maze itself was pretty simple and it was only two hay bales high, which meant it was low enough for the parents to keep an eye on their kids, but high enough to give the illusion of a closed in maze.
They’d put the last bale in its place when the first of the festival goers arrived. Harry grinned at Evan.
“Have a good time of it,” Harry said to him. “Keep an eye on Mr. Matthews, though. He tends to overdo it with the ale.”
“Good to know,” Evan said. “Have fun with the woodturning.”
They waved each other on and Evan headed towards the Sheep and Crow stall.
Halfway there, he noticed Annie Thomas having a hard time getting the leg of her display table to lock into place, so he stopped to help.
“Oh, thank you,” she said as he gave it a good whack. “Damn thing never locks when I do it.”
“It’s a pleasure,” Evan said. He moved onto her other table while she set out her velvet throws and placed finely wrought jewellery upon the fabric. Evan finished putting together the last table and stopped to admire some of necklaces.
“Aren’t they lovely?” Mrs. Thomas asked proudly. “My daughter does them. She’s down in Brecon, but always sends some up to me around this time of year.”
She turned away to open another case of jewellery and Evan reached out his hand to get a better look at one of the pendants. As soon as his finger touched the chain, a sharp burst of pain seared the tip of his finger. He hissed and jerked his hand back. A small burn mark was visible on his flesh.
“They’re pure silver,” Mrs. Thomas said turning back around. “Would you like to see this one more closely?”
She made a move to hand him one of the necklaces and Evan said loudly, “No! I mean, no. Thank you.”
Mrs. Thomas looked confused but smiled as he nodded his good-bye to her. She thanked him again for helping as he walked away.
Evan glanced down at his hand, but the mark was already beginning to fade. He gritted his teeth and told himself to worry about his new-found allergy to silver later.
Hannah was already setting out bottles of ales and lagers from all over Wales by the time he got over to the stall. She smiled when she saw him. Bryn gave him a thumbs up and continued to serve the early customers.
“Hey! Get dressed, Mr. Matthews is already on his way over for a second honey beer. I’ve got to go change my clothes,” Hannah said. She grabbed her bag and dashed away.
“Yes ma’am.” Evan ducked under the counter and shucked his jacket for the woollen waistcoat and gave a smile of satisfaction as he pulled the bowler hat out of its bag. He put it on his head and gave it a jaunty tilt off his forehead.
Then he headed out to help Bryn serve and generally chat with the local lads and gents.
A low whistle drew his attention away from carrying the back-up crate of Tomos Watkin’s and he turned his head to see Hannah approaching the stall. Evan felt his jaw drop and the wolf inside him growled in pleasure.
She was wearing a full-length peasant skirt in gold and brown paisley. The skirt swirled around her long, slim legs and he could hear the faintest of jingling sounds and caught a flash of gold adorning her ankle. Her shirt was an off-white, off the shoulder peasant blouse and it cinched in at her waist with a thick leather belt. She was the epitome of a gypsy girl come to sell her drink to the local populace.
She also looked good enough to eat.
Evan knew he was staring. He knew that Hannah could see him staring. He didn’t stop staring. She made it all the way to the stall and stood directly in front of him. A corner of her mouth lifted up.
She reached up and flicked the brim of his hat. “It really does suit you,” she said.
“You look incredible,” he said in a voice much lower than usual.
Hannah smiled and blushed. “Good. Now, keep the locals in line while I sell my wares. And, if you’re very good, I may give you a sample of them later.” She gave him a decidedly arch look as she swept past him to start filling drink orders.
Evan let out a deep breath and moved to stand on the other side of the counter.
A few of the pub regulars gave him grins and he just grinned back and hollered, “Right! All you ne‘er do wells best be mindin’ yourselves as I won’t be hesitatin’ to thrash ever’ last one of ya’s! Now, get lined up all neat like!”
Everyone laughed and obeyed at once. He caught Hannah’s laughing eyes and gave her a wicked wink.
The rest of the afternoon was busy. People from all over the village and surrounding farms had come to dance a little, let their kids run wild in the hay maze, get their faces painted and just have a good time.
Elinor and Portia had a stand just across from Hannah’s and the white rocks Evan and she had collected lined the table in careful patterns where they sold their scones and other cakes.
Harry had his lathe and other woodturning equipment set up and was handing out some gorgeously carved figures and candleholders.
Dr. Carson and Dr. Kelly were both in attendance and wandered about the crowds, lending a hand where they could along with the occasional plaster.
The afternoon went by quickly and Evan only had to break up one skirmish featuring the Hughes brothers. But, considering the two men had been squabbling since their mother gave birth to them, it was nothing out of the ordinary.
Night always fell quick and quiet in the valley, so it had a tendency to sneak up on a person. One moment, the sun was shining low in the sky, the next, people were rushing around turning on large outdoor lamps as the street lights switched on.
Most of the younger set headed inside for dinner and bedtime. Most of the rest hung around as the local band got themselves set up on the small stage just outside the maze.
The band, called Daffydd’s Daffies, started off with a fast-paced jig that had most everyone tapping their toes. A few more adventurous souls took to the dance floor and had the crowd whooping and shouting in approval.
Hannah and Bryn were slinging pints and cracking open bottles of bitters and lagers as fast as they could. Finally, when it seemed like they’d served nearly every villager at least three times, they took a break. Evan propped himself against the front of the stall as Hannah came to stand next to his side.
She leaned against his side with a sigh and Evan slid an arm around her waist.
“Good day?” he asked.
“Hey, it’s not over yet,” Hannah said elbowing him in the side. “How’s your dancing ability?”
“Painful to watch, I’m afraid,” he said. “Whereas I bet you glide across the floor like Ginger Rogers.”
“More like Martha Graham,” Elinor said with a chuckle as she approached. She made a funny movement with her arms and torso that had Harry behind her ducking to get out of the way and Hannah pinching her side.
“Like you’re the epitome of grace and rhythm, cheeky cow,” Hannah said.
The four leaned against the stall and Elinor and Hannah cheered and whistled when they saw Bryn gallantly ask for Portia’s hand in a dance. The two joined the rest on the dance floor and easily started a waltz, Portia laughing as Bryn beamed.
“Go, Uncle Bryn!” Hannah called out. He threw her a wink as they whirled around with the other couples, including Stev and Grace. Stev looked particularly dashing with his dark hair slicked back and Grace wore a gorgeous dress of royal blue.
A lone older gentleman burst onto the floor jerking about and flailing his arms and legs in every which way.
“Ah, Christ,” Evan said shaking his head. “I thought I took Mr. Matthews’ pint from him. How’d he get another?”
Mr. Matthews continued to writhe about the dance floor, his limbs not appearing to follow any set rhythm. He finally started to bump into a few people. Evan squeezed Hannah’s waist and spoke into her ear, “Best be getting him down from there and on to nursing a cuppa.”
She nodded and Harry joined him as Evan headed towards the dance floor.
Just as they reached the stage, a woman sailed past them, her arms pin-wheeled about as her feet moved far too quickly. She careened into another person and instead of stopping to apologise, continued to dance across the floor.
“Umm, was that Miss Groves?” Harry asked, a frown appearing on his face. “She’s the poster woman for good manners, what the heck was that?”
Evan opened his mouth to comment, but another person came flailing past, this time a young man, his mouth open in horror as his arms and legs jerked about in a parody of dancing.
“Harry, this isn’t looking right,” Evan said, watching Miss Groves, Mr. Matthews and two more people thrash about on the dance floor.
“Not right at all,” Harry said.
“Guys.” Elinor’s voice came from behind them. She and Hannah had followed them and were surveying the crowd on the dance floor. Evan watched and saw a flash of green and pink appear just in front of a woman sitting on the edge of the floor. She jumped to her feet and started to dance, a cry of surprise escaping her.
“Damn those little buggers,” Hannah said. “Ellie, did you see him?”
“Yes, I did,” she said angrily. “They promised me no funny stuff.”
“What do we do?” Harry asked. “Is it some kind of spell? Will it wear off?”
“I don’t know,” Elinor said. “I need to know what he’s doing. Glen!”
The leader of the Glenlings appeared in a snap. “I’m trying to stop him, Miss Ellie-witch. He’s a fast one. Kind of makes you proud, how fast he is.”
“I don’t care how fast he is,” Elinor said, putting her hands on her hips. “He’s going to get someone hurt. Get him to stop.”
“Righty right!” Glen disappeared.
Evan looked back at the dance floor. More people were now moving about erratically and sweat was dripping down poor Mr. Matthews red face.
“Crap. We’ve got to get help him,” Hannah said. “He’s going to have a coronary.”
Portia and Bryn joined them with concerned looks on their faces. “Ellie, what’s going on?” Portia asked.
“One of the Glenlings, apparently,” Elinor said. “Mum, how do we stop it?”
Portia looked at her daughter and took her hands in hers. “You’ve been reading, you know what to do.”
Elinor looked uncertain and opened her mouth to speak, when Glen re-appeared out of breath.
“Can’t pant- quite -gasp- catch -pant- him,” Glen said. “But, I heard him say something like trippy-do demmens.”
Elinor looked stunned. “That’s a hardcore spell! It’ll make anyone dance themselves to death!”
“What?” Evan asked. “It’s what?”
“You’ve heard of St. Vitus? Well, this is that in its magical form,” Elinor said. “We’ve got to stop him and get these people still and calm before it destroys their nervous system.”
“Can you stop them from dancing?” Hannah asked her friend seriously.
Elinor looked dubious and bit her lip. She looked at her mother. Portia nodded, strength and love shining in her eyes as she said, “Of course she can. She can do anything.”
A flash of pink caught Evan’s eye and he turned just in time to see a little Glenling point his finger at Bryn and open his mouth to speak.
Hannah saw the pictsie too, and shouted, “No!”
She pushed Bryn out of the way just as the Glenling said, “Tripudo demens!”
A tiny spark of blue hit Hannah in her mid-section and with a cry, she whirled away from them, Evan and Bryn desperately calling after her.
“I’m fine!” Hannah yelled, as she tried to control her movements and not run into anyone, her skirt swirling around her legs as she spun. “Help the others!”
Evan was horrified as he watched her body spin without grace or direction.
He made a move to go after her, but he was stopped by Bryn’s hand on his arm. The younger man looked at Hannah’s uncle, who had a look of fierce determination on his face.
“She gave you an order, young man,” he said. “I’ll keep an eye on her. Go help Miss Elinor and Mr. Porter.”
Evan made as if to argue, but the look in Bryn’s eyes stopped him. Evan gave Hannah’s dancing form one last look and then turned to follow Elinor, Portia and Harry as they tried to capture the afflicted villagers.
Once Dr. Carson and Yanmei had been located and informed of the situation, they immediately did their best to restrain the people who were dancing uncontrollably.
But, it seemed as they managed to grab one person, another would rush past. Someone ran into a stall selling wind chimes and with a crash, the panels came down with a wave of clanging and ringing.
Evan and Harry managed to snag Miss Groves and the poor woman could barely speak, her breath coming in little gasps as her feet kicked about and her eyes wild with fright.
Elinor studied the woman and still biting her lip, walked around her and pointed her finger at the top of Miss Groves’ spine.
“Subsisto quod sedo,” Elinor said loudly, her voice clear and steady.
Miss Groves stiffened and then slumped with a sigh. Portia stepped in to help the exhausted woman sit down.
Elinor let out a deep sigh. “Right. One down. More to go. Come on, boys.”
Evan and Harry exchanged looks and followed her as she headed back into the fray.
By this point too many people, even those not afflicted, were panicking. Many were trying to help the ones who couldn’t stop dancing. Dr. Carson and Yanmei did what they could to start a sort of triage, with Portia, Grace and Stev assisting.
As soon as one person was restrained, Elinor would rush over and cast her calming spell on their spine. Most people responded well and simply stopped to sit in a bewildered and exhausted daze.
Other had extremely elevated heart rates and were gasping so desperately for air they had to be given oxygen that Dr. Carson had brought from his office.
Evan and Harry went after the bigger fellows and often had to duck and weave to avoid getting decked in the face. Harry took a good blow to the diaphragm and wheezed for a full minute while holding down a gent from the neighbouring village.
One man who clerked at the bank tore himself away from his mates and violently threw himself across the dance floor. His mates yelled and rushed after him, but the man simply could not stop.
“Oh, shite,” Harry said from his position of holding Mr. Matthews’ upper body while Evan tried to restrain the man’s moving legs.
Evan glanced in the direction Harry was staring in and echoed the sentiment, “Oh, buggering shite.”
The man’s feet dragged him towards a free-standing outdoor lamp situated next to the haybale maze and he crashed directly into it. The lamp hit the ground with a smash and sparks flew out in a frightening starburst. Several landed on an edge of the maze and, as Evan and Harry watched, the dry hay immediately caught on fire and swiftly spread.
“Shit, shit, shit!” Elinor said as soon as she saw the fire. “Subsisto quod sedo!”
The spell hit Mr. Matthews and he crumpled to the ground, Dr. Carson already next to him with a canister of oxygen.
“We’ve got to get these folks away from the fire,” he said briskly. “I’ll get the ones you’ve cured out of here while you all try to get the others still afflicted.”
Elinor nodded sharply and grabbed at Harry’s hand and pulled him towards two more people being held by friends and family and struggling in their grasp.
Brenley stopped next to a streetlamp and watched as people rushed to help put out the fire and hold down people that he’d only wanted to make dance and have a bit of fun.
They didn’t look like they were having fun. They looked like they were having the total opposite of fun.
The flames of the fire made him flinch.
This hadn’t been part of the plan.
Brenley felt a queasiness begin in his stomach and travel up to tug at his heart and settle in his head.
He swallowed hard and disappeared.
They had managed to get one more person under control and ‘sedated’ when Evan heard Bryn calling his name. “Evan!”
He turned and his heart stuttered at the look of fear and despair on Bryn’s face. Hannah.
“Oh, god. What happened? Where is she?” Evan shouted, barely noticing Elinor and Harry right behind him.
Bryn’s face was red and his hands looked raw and had blisters forming on them. He could hardly speak, just gesture towards the maze and the blaze surrounding it.
Fear latched onto Evan’s spine and sent dark chills into his body. “No.”
“She couldn’t stop it,” Bryn said shaking his head as his entire body trembled. “And I couldn’t hold on to her. She slipped out of my hands.”
“Oh, god, your hands,” Elinor cried, then she turned her head to get Portia over. “Mum! Get over here! See to Bryn’s hands. Hannah’s in the maze!”
Evan raced towards the maze. “Hannah! Hannah! Answer me, for Christ’s sake!”
“Evan!” Hannah’s voice was faint, but he could just see her through the smoke, her red hair nearly the same shade as the flames that danced in front of her.
“Stay put! I’m coming through,” he said knowing his words were rather futile as he saw her do her best to her ‘dancing’ confined to one patch between the fiery haybales.
She shouted something at him that might have been of the ‘no, save yourself’ variety and he certainly heard Harry yelling something at him, but all Evan could hear was the blood pumping through his veins as the adrenalin surged in his body.
The wolf in him shied away from the fire and whined.
The man in him simply said, “Fuck it.”
Evan took a few steps back, paused, then hunching his shoulders ran towards the flames. With a leap that was probably far more lupine than human, he cleared the haybales and landed on the ground on the other side, falling into a quick roll and crouch.
He remained in that crouch while his eyes adjusted to the smoke and the glare of the flames. Hannah was only a few feet away, her arms arcing up and down to some internal rhythm, her feet spun her in circles that alternated between tight and small and loose and wide. Her cheeks were red from the heat and sweat ran in rivulets down the side of her face. He could see soot on her skirt and her blouse.
She had tears of exertion streaming from her eyes and it was the sight of her tears that had him springing up from his crouch and enfolding her in his arms.
Her body jerked and writhed in his grasp. He opened his mouth to speak and coughed as smoke surged in.
Hannah managed a gaspy chuckle and said, “Smooth moves, wolf-boy.”
“Only for you, MacNeil,” he said tightening his hold on her. “Elinor can fix you.”
“Sure hope so,” she said fighting to stop her head from tossing. “I love a good dance, but not quite like this.”
Evan grinned in spite of himself and adjusted his hold on her, putting an arm around her waist and the other around her upper back.
“Any time now, Elinor!” he shouted over his shoulder.
“You have to hold her head still!” Elinor yelled.
Evan tightened his hold on her waist and tears streamed down Hannah’s face and her mouth was open as she gasped in breaths. He firmly cupped the back of her head and tried to hold her in place, but she was too caught up in the spell and her head jerked out of his hand.
“No!” he shouted. “Stay with me!”
“Can’t!” she said through clenched teeth. “Evan, let-- me go--.”
Her eyes were rimmed with red from the smoke and he felt his own eyes start to water.
“Evan! Hold her still, damn it!” Elinor yelled again.
Evan gritted his teeth and pulled Hannah even tighter to him and cupped the back of her head once more and in an act of desperation, he pressed his mouth to hers.
It wasn’t a kiss.
It wasn’t kind or sweet or gentle.
It was an assault. A possession.
His lips pressed hard against hers and when she gasped, he pressed even harder, swallowing the sound. His tongue invaded her mouth and as it tangled with hers he tasted salt from her tears, copper from where she must have bitten her tongue and fear. It was the fear that made him kiss her even harder. She made a sound like a whimper and it tore at his heart, but he kept his mouth on hers, just as she tried to kiss him back. The jerking of her body next to his was painful and he could feel her heart pounding far too fast in her chest.
Distantly he heard Elinor shout something and Hannah froze, her fingers digging into his arms, and her mouth went slack.
Evan pulled back, mouth open and smoke stinging his eyes and scratching at his throat. Her face was pale under the flush from the heat, and slowly her hands loosened their grip and fell from his arms.
“Hi,” she said weakly, the smoke coming in thicker and faster around their entwined bodies.
“Hiya,” he said just as weakly.
Hannah attempted a smile before her eyes rolled back in her head and her body went limp.
Evan let out a hoarse cry as she slumped in his arms, but his hold never faltered.
“Evan! Evan! How is she? Is she out?” Elinor cried.
“Yeah!” he yelled back, starting to cough and never taking his eyes off Hannah’s face. “Get the fire out!”
“Hang on!” Harry shouted.
Evan closed his eyes and pulling Hannah fully up into his arms and sinking to the ground, he did just that.
In the end, twenty people had been struck with ‘dancing fever’, as Harry had taken to calling it. Ten of those people were fine, tired and sporting a few blisters on their heels, but fine.
Two had severe bruising from running into things and another four had sprained ankles.
Mr. Matthews was awake, but under supervision as his heart rate was still elevated and he continued to need oxygen.
Miss Groves pulled a muscle in her and was also being watched closely.
The clerk from the bank had a gash in his arm from running into the lamp as well as a concussion.
Hannah had a small burn on her leg and one on her arm from the fire, as well as several blisters on her feet.
All in all? They had been pretty damn lucky. Considering.
The fire had finally been put out with a good hour of hosing down from the volunteer firemen and most of the stalls had sustained some damage.
A number of people gathered in the Sheep and Crow to discuss the situation.
“We’ll be refunding portions of the stand fees to people,” Grace said from where she sat at one of the tables, her husband Stev beside her, his arm stretched out across the back of her chair. She shook her head. “I’ve never seen anything like that before. Has anyone?”
“Elinor is quite correct in mentioning the similarity to St. Vitus disease,” Yanmei said, “but I’ve never come across it outside of medical journals. It was...horribly fascinating.” She blushed a little and ducked her head. “And that sounded awfully callous.”
“Hardly,” Portia said as others made the same noises. “It was fascinating. And horrible. Have we heard from the little blighter, yet?”
Elinor made a face and shook her head from her spot on the floor where she leaned against Harry’s chest. “Glen said he’d find the one who was doing it and bring him to us.”
She shuddered slightly with exhaustion and Harry rubbed at her arms.
Evan raised his head as Hannah came into the room, wearing a loose fitting pair of trousers and a baggy shirt that left her burns exposed to the air. He stood up and helped her ease into a chair, then took his place next to her.
“You alright?” he asked her.
“She’d be a lot better if she’d go to bed and get some rest,” Dr. Carson said. “But, she insisted on coming down.”
Hannah waved her hand in the air. “My pub, my rules, I get to be here.”
Dr. Carson raised his hands in submission and Hannah sighed, adjusting her body closer to Evan.
Bryn came around on her other side and sat down heavily in the chair next to her. His hands were bandaged as the burns he’d sustained had been very serious. Hannah looked at him and gave him a little smile.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t hold on to you,” he said softly enough so that only she and Evan heard him.
“Oh, Uncle Bryn,” Hannah said, putting her hand on the bit of his arm that was free from burns. “Please tell me you’re not beating yourself up over this?”
“If you hadn’t pushed me out of the way--” he said.
“If I hadn’t pushed you out of the way, who knows what might have happened,” Hannah said. “And I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Make no mistake.”
“Why’d you do it, love?” he asked, meeting her eyes.
Hannah gave him a fond look. “Silly man. You’re my family.”
Bryn’s eyes watered and he smiled as he said, “Hannah bach.”
He leaned forward and reverently pressed a kiss to her forehead. Then he pulled away. “Well, I’m going to talk Stev into helping me get a round of coffee going.”
“You do that,” she said. “And don’t be stingy with the whiskey I know you’re going to be putting into it.”
Bryn gave her a wink and then gave Evan a serious nod, which Evan returned. Bryn headed over to Stev and then two headed into the back room. Portia and Grace talked quietly, while Elinor dozed in Harry’s arms. Yanmei and Dr. Carson sat at another table making notes and setting up appointments to see everyone afflicted the following day.
Hannah sighed and leaned more into Evan. He turned his head and breathed in the still smoky scent of her hair.
“You smell like a campfire,” she said, the vibration of her voice tickling his lips.
“You don’t exactly smell like a field of daisies yourself.” he retorted.
“Hmmph,” she said. Then she dislodged his head by craning hers to look into his eyes. “You kissed me.”
“Aye, I did,’” he said simply.
Hannah stared into his eyes for a few moments, before nodding and moving back to her original positions. “We’ll have to try that again sometime,” she said casually.
Evan smiled and pressed his lips to the top of her head again. “Lookin’ forward to it,” he murmured.
His eyes had just begun to close, when Glen and several other Glenlings appeared in the middle of the pub, right in from of Elinor. They had in the midst of them one smaller Glenling whose coveralls were dirty and torn and wearing such a look of terror and woe upon his face.
Elinor sat up straight and looked at Glen. “Is this the one?”
“Yes, Miss Ellie-witch. This here’s Brenley. And he’s copped to it, no question. But, it weren’t all his fault,” the leader said.
“Oh?” Elinor said, tilting her head and looking every inch the powerful witch she was slowly becoming. “And whose fault was it?”
Brenley let out a wail that shook the windows and made every human wince. He fell to his knees in front of Elinor and cried, “I didn’t know, Miss Witch! He didn’t say anything about people’s hurting themselves. Or not stopping. Ohhhhhh.”
He buried his face in his hands while his Glenling brothers looked uncomfortable.
“So, someone gave you the words?” Elinor asked gently. “Who was this, Brenley?”
Brenley lifted his head and wiped his nose. “It was a man. Well, male. He wasn’t a human. At least, not quite.”
Evan’s eye was caught by the movement of Portia pressing a hand to her breastbone.
“Where did you meet him?” Elinor asked also noticing her mother’s distress.
“In the forest, near the old oaks, off the path,” Brenley said. He furrowed his brow. “He had such dark brows and eyelashes. But his eyes? They were as light as the sky.”
“Oh,” Portia said as she closed her eyes. “Oh, damn him.”
“Mum?” Elinor said, sounding unsure. “Mum, who is he?”
“He said he’d come back one day.” Portia said almost to herself as she hunched over in her chair. “When the balance had to be restored. When things got too good, too safe. He swore he’d return. Oh, damn, damn, damn him.”
Hannah sat up and reached for Evan’s hand.
Elinor quickly crawled to grab her mother’s hands and ducked her head to meet her mother’s eyes. “Mum. Who is he?”
Portia raised her head, her eyes bright with tears. “His name is Corbellot. He’s the Trickster.” She sucked in a shaky breath. “And he’s your father.”
FIN
