Chapter 4 Dylan
Dylan
A good night’s sleep was a luxury I seldom had.
Even with the windows wide open, letting the sound of crashing waves into my room, I still struggled to drift off. Gods only knew how long I’d lain staring up at the ceiling.
I was still awake when I reached five hundred sheep. Taking that as my cue that sleep was not blessing me tonight, I threw back the covers and slipped on a pair of thin cotton trousers.
The early hours of the morning were one of the very few times that the kitchens at Plas Ffynone were quiet. I snatched an apple from the overflowing fruit basket on the counter and began peeling it with the edge of my axe.
“Is using Caledfwlch to peel an apple really necessary?”
I jumped out of my skin when Zenn emerged from the shadows. Caledfwlch slipped from my hand, nearly severing a toe.
“For the love of all ten gods and their mother.” I reached down to swipe my axe, but Zenn was quicker. He handed me the weapon handle first.
The way the shadows seemed to cling to Zenn was terrifying. We’d been friends a very long time, but the bastard still had the upper hand when it came to stealth.
Popping the last of the apple in my mouth, I watched as he set a glass of milk on the counter.
I nodded to his glass. “There’s only two kinds of people who drink milk like that.”
Zenn leaned a hip against the counter, crossing his arms over his bare chest as he waited for me to continue.
“You and serial killers.”
Zenn, who only usually laughed at Yule and the occasional birthday, chuckled at my barb. He took a long pull of his milk, before setting it back down on the counter. “Struggling to sleep again?”
“Who, me? Nah, I was sleeping like a baby. I just didn’t want to miss out on watching you drink milk like a psychopath.”
“Did you try opening the window so you could hear—”
The look I shot him told him everything he needed to know about how much I had tried to get to sleep.
“Does your insomnia have anything to do with travelling up North in the morning?”
Was I really that readable?
I leaned my elbows on the wooden countertops, burying my head in my hands. “You know I hate being away from here, miles away from the Coven. If he decides to attack—”
“He won’t.” Zenn placed a hand on my shoulder. “Not to be all doom and gloom, but if he’s going to attack, it will be Llwyn Onn, not here.”
I let out a long sigh. Zenn was right, but an attack at Llwyn Onn didn’t guarantee the West’s safety.
“Have you heard anything from him recently?”
I shook my head. “Add that to the long list of reasons I can’t sleep. He’s been unusually quiet.”
Lifting my hand, I instinctively ran my finger over the pink scar that cut across my palm.
“Have you asked Hefina for something that could help?”
“The old Witch has given me every herb and tincture she knows.”
Zenn moved to grab his glass again but snatched his hand back as if he’d been burnt.
“Did you just feel that?” His eyes were wide with panic.
“Feel what?”
As Zenn picked up the glass, he gripped it so tightly that it shattered into pieces from the force. The shards were strewn across the floor, and milk dripped from his chest.
“Are you okay mate? What—”
Then I felt it, too.
At first it started as no more than goosebumps all over my skin. Then every hair on my arms stood upright. My heart raced as a sweat broke out across my brow.
And then came the tug.
Something pulled me towards it with all its might. I dropped to my knees, the shards of broken glass digging into my skin and mixing blood with the milk on the floor.
Looking up, I could see Zenn was struggling with the sensation as well. He was doubled over, barely hanging on to the edge of the counter. He gritted his teeth as the overwhelming pull took hold.
“Boys! Are you alright?”
I had no idea when Caerwyn had arrived, but the next thing I knew, the old man was on his knees in front of me.
He tried his best to haul me to my feet, but I was hit with another pull towards an unknown location.
The same tug had Zenn sprawled on the floor, his hands gripping the centre of his chest.
Figures and faces of the Western Coven moved around us. Voices spoke, but I couldn’t hear anything over the roaring in my ears.
When the overwhelming feeling of being commanded by some unknown being subsided, Zenn and I had been propped against the kitchen cupboards side by side. We were both still shirtless, and the knees of my trousers were ripped, revealing my already healing skin.
“How you feeling, lad?”
Caerwyn sat in a similar position opposite us. I turned to look at Zenn, who was still glassy eyed. The effects hadn’t quite worn off him quite as quickly as they had for me.
“Did you feel that, too?” My mouth felt like cotton.
Caerwyn shook his head, lifting his wrists. The usually blistered skin around the magically infused iron seemed sorer than ever. “I think these blocked it out.”
“Any idea what the fuck that was?”
Caerwyn dragged a hand down his beard. “I don’t, but you know who you need to ask for that answer.”
I did, but the slash on my palm prevented me from speaking of it any further.
To my left, Zenn let out a groan. His head lolled forward as he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms.
“Good to see your back with us in one piece,” Caerwyn said as he stood, patting the top of Zenn’s head as he made his way out of the kitchen. Caerwyn and I were the only two people who Zenn would allow to touch him like that. Anyone else would be missing a few fingers if they even tried.
“What in the Otherworlds was that?”
I rested my head back against the cupboard. “No idea…but I think it’s time we pay Gwaun a little visit.”