Chapter 5 #2
At first, I wasn’t entirely sure what I was looking at.
The picture was in black and white, which made it hard to see, but I thought we were watching some kind of CCTV footage.
The figures in the image both had their backs to the camera, and there was no sound, but it looked like they were arguing.
The man pushed the woman against the bar and pinned her arms behind her back.
She clearly wanted to be let go, but he continued to manhandle her.
Seemingly out of nowhere, the man stepped away from his victim and left the pub like he was running from something.
Unlike my previous drunk excursions, I didn’t have the faintest memory of anything that happened after seeing Elis at the lake.
Which was unusual because even in my worst alcohol and drug frenzies, I’d always had some recollection of what happened, albeit very fuzzy.
But the woman in the footage must have been me.
Why else would Granny have shown me this interaction?
At some point, I’d managed to acquire some sort of stick, which I had raised above my head, ready to swing at a glass bottle perched at the edge of the bar. The unknown of what I was about to do next did make me a little nervous. But so what if I smashed a glass bottle? Sue me.
Except as the glass shattered, so did the entire pub. When the debris settled and the camera was clear again, all that was left standing was me with my back to a wall and a huge glass shard sticking out of my stomach.
Granny shut the television off with a wave of her hand and cleared her throat, no doubt ready to give me the bollocking of a lifetime. I tried and failed to come up with some explanation of what I had just witnessed on the screen, but my mouth just hung open in shock.
“How am I not dead?”
“Because my Coven worked on healing you throughout the night. Once you were stable and stopped bleeding, they took you home.” Her eyes flicked down to my lower stomach where the glass had stabbed me.
I lifted my t-shirt to see the faintest pink line running just under my belly button. The scar looked like it was years old.
“That’s impossible,” I whispered.
“I want total honesty, Non. Have you ever caused an explosion like that when you’ve gotten angry in the past?”
I might have been the one injured, but it looked like my grandmother had taken a few blows to the head if she thought I’d caused that.
“That explosion had nothing to do with me! Maybe one of the beer kegs exploded?” As soon as the words left my lips, I realized how ridiculous that sounded. “Maybe a gas explosion? We all know Kev pays off the health and safety officer to keep quiet about the state of The Pig!”
“What we just saw on that screen was the use of magic. There’s no doubt.” Granny’s fingers drummed impatiently on the table.
“How can you be so sure that was caused by magic and not just a freak accident?” I pleaded.
“Because you wouldn’t have been able to be healed by my Coven if it was caused by a mortal accident. Magic can only heal magically inflicted wounds,” she said, surprisingly calm for someone talking about supernatural powers.
“The giant piece of glass that stuck me to the wall like a human kebab didn’t look very fucking magical!”
Granny planted both hands on the table and began to rise. Although she was tiny in stature, she had the ability to make anyone feel two feet tall when she was angry.
“This is what’s going to happen,” she said while pushing her claw-tipped finger into the table. “I’m going to give you an hour to pack your things and say your goodbyes. One of the family cars will be waiting outside to bring you up North. You will train to get that power under control, Non.”
“I’m not going anywhere with one of your freaky friends. We established a long time ago that I have no magic. There’s nothing to train.” I tried to hide the shudder that passed over me when I thought about the day of my Cychwyniad.
“To say I’m disappointed that you’ve lied about your powers this long is an understatement, Non.
All I ever wanted was for you to join us at Llwyn Onn and maybe one day accept the blessing of the gods and become a vassal.
I thought that’s what you always wanted, too, but you were defiant from the first day we trained.
I always put it down to you being disheartened that wielding did not come easy for you.
But now I understand why you were always so angry—you were fighting every natural instinct to wield. ”
As Granny’s words landed, I felt a familiar twinge in my chest. I couldn’t recall ever feeling pain there before, but it was like an old injury had reared its head again.
“There’s no way I can disappear up North with you. I have too many responsibilities here. Mum and Glad need me.”
Becoming a full-time caretaker for my mother and Glad hadn’t been in my plans for my twenties, but life was like that sometimes.
I pushed back from the table, grabbed a cloth, and began polishing the mugs on the shelf above the till; anything to distract myself from the tears welling in my eyes, desperate not to let them fall.
Granny narrowed her eyes. “Ah, yes, I’ve heard about the current situation with your mother and…aunt, as you say.” She spat the word like venom. “How unfortunate.”
“Like you care,” I snapped.
Mum had been ill as long as I could remember, and Aunty Glad was diagnosed just over ten years ago. This was the first time she’d ever shown any concern toward either of them.
“That must be a lot of financial strain on you, supporting a family on a barmaid’s wage,” she said in a condescending tone.
I stopped polishing the mug and fixed my eyes on Granny as I waited for what she was about to say next. A small smirk danced on her lips.
“Maybe we could come to an agreement that is mutually beneficial?”
“I really don’t like where this is going.”
“If you agree to come train at Llwyn Onn, I can help you with the little financial predicament you’re in. Take care of all those unpaid bills and debt collectors knocking at your door.”
How the fuck did she know about that?
“They’ll be well looked after. Private carers, cleaners, a cook—whatever they need while you are away.” She smiled wickedly.
“No fucking—”
Granny took a step closer, and I snapped my mouth shut. I flinched as she lifted her hand, but it settled around her own chin as she tapped her clawed finger in the same steady rhythm.
“The Coven is calling, Non. Will you heed the call?”
“Wait! I—”
But Granny disappeared in the same cloud of white mist she’d shown up in.
It took all my willpower to not throw the mug I was holding across the room, although my knuckles ached from how hard I clutched it.
Agreeing to go North with her would inevitably end in disaster, much like my Cychwyniad had.
The mugs carefully stacked on the shelf began to rattle and shake.
Dropping the one I was holding, I lunged for the stacks, but before I could reach them, they exploded into a million tiny pieces.
Shards covered the floor and counter; my hand was shredded with pieces of flying china that seeped blood down my arm.
The bell over the doorway rang, and I expected to see my grandmother’s furious face. Instead, I was met with a very confused Kev.
“Shit a brick, Non, what have you done?”
My little outburst gave me the perfect excuse to leave my shift early. Kev had taken one look at the blood and sent me home.
Our conversation was brief, and he hadn’t said a thing about The Pig or any kind of damage.
I found it strange that he’d not mentioned anything—surely, if emergency services had been called, Kev would’ve been notified as the pub’s owner.
But the fact that my grandmother admitted her Coven, as she called it, had visited the village after the explosion made me think that they might have been able to hold off anyone discovering the damage until the following morning.
On my way back home, I passed the street The Pig was on.
The end of the road was taped off, and dozens of police cars and fire engines were parked outside.
Kev was certainly in for a surprise when he got to work.
I just prayed to whoever was up there that Granny didn’t hate me enough to turn over the CCTV footage over to the police.
After a short walk back to our bungalow, I quickly checked in on Mum and Aunty Glad before packing.
Aunty Glad was napping, something she did frequently since becoming less lucid.
To my surprise, when I popped my head around Mum’s bedroom door, she was awake and had managed to prop herself up on some pillows.
Her light blue eyes were fixed on the bay windows on the far side of her bedroom, which was by far the largest room in our house.
When Mum’s condition had started to worsen, Glad and I had insisted that she move her bed to the living room.
After weeks of arguing, we decided to move the rooms around while she was at a doctor’s appointment.
Since then, she hadn’t left her room—or her bed—very often.
Unlike Aunty Glad, whose symptoms were a product of her old age, Mum always seemed to struggle with her mysterious sickness.
After moving in with Glad when I was five, Mum had finally been convinced to go see a doctor.
Although they’d never been able to pinpoint what exactly had made her so ill over the years, she’d always been heavily medicated to manage the symptoms. The extreme fatigue meant she tired easily.
When I was younger, she used to be able to spend more time out of bed, but now it was only a few minutes a day.
“Don’t linger in the door, love,” Mum said, pulling my attention back to her.
Considering how often she was in pain, my mother’s smile had never wavered.
Always bright and beautiful, complemented by the mass of blonde ringlets that framed her face and fell just below her jawline.
I had tried my best to work my way through each curl meticulously to keep it tangle-free.
Unlike me, her frame had always been small, even before sickness made her frail.
She patted the small space beside her on the bed, and I ungracefully plopped down next to her.
The sweet floral smell of her perfume filled my nose as I bundled her into my arms for a cuddle.
Sometimes, as a child, I used to wonder if she sprayed the whole garden with her perfume.
The foxgloves carried the same delicate smell.
We sat like that in silence for a while, until finally, she wriggled free of my arms and grabbed a large brown envelope from her nightstand.
“This was hand-delivered while you were out.” She passed me the thick wad of papers. As my hand brushed against hers, I snatched it back quickly, scared I’d cause bruising to her too-thin skin. When I turned my palm over, I noticed the cuts from earlier had already healed.
From the envelope, I slid out a pamphlet and flicked through the pages. It was a brochure for private in-home care, one that looked insanely expensive.
“I think you know as well as I do who delivered this,” Mum said softly, no malice in her voice.
“Mum, I…” I started to explain, but she shushed me with a bony finger to her lips.
She drew in a long, deep breath, gathering her words and composing herself, which was unusual because my mother was the definition of composed. I’d always assumed I got my hot temper from my father.
“Today is the day you need to make a big decision, Non, although I suspect fate has already made it for you.” Her blue eyes, which held a hint of gold, flicked to my stomach as if she knew what scar lay beneath.
“Did Granny deliver that, too?” I said, nodding to the brown envelope.
“She did. I can’t believe I am actually saying this, but it was nice to catch up with her.”
“You let her in?”
“Look, my warnings about your grandmother still stand. You can’t trust her as far as you can throw her, but for all her flaws, she is a good ally to have on your side right now.”
Why was my mother talking like she knew about last night’s explosion?
It seemed that Granny had explained her proposition to Mum, that I would move up North with her for a while to ‘study,’ as she put it. And Granny would help with the financial support while I was gone.
Mum seemed fine with the idea, encouraging if anything. And when the black car pulled into our driveway, Mum helped me pack the few clothes I had and walked me to the door.
“It kinda feels like you want me to go,” I said as I pressed a kiss to her cheek.
As she gripped my hand, I felt the weight of something drop into my palm.
I uncurled my fingers to see the quartz pendant Catrin had gifted me for my sixteenth birthday.
The last time I’d seen it was the day of my Cychwyniad.
After returning home from such a disaster, my memories were spotty.
I put it down to being exhausted from hours of trying to summon my non-existent power like an idiot.
When I’d woken the next morning, the necklace was missing from around my neck.
I’d searched high and low but only managed to find the broken rope it was fastened to in my pocket.
“Where did you find it?”
Mum pressed our clasped hands to my chest. “Forgotten things have a way of finding their way home.”
She leaned in close and dropped her voice to a whisper.
“I only ever want what’s best for you. For you to be safe, protected.
I’ve dedicated my life to making sure that happens, sacrificing everything I had for you, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
But there comes a time when not even the most cunning of us can outsmart fate. ”
The screech of a horn interrupted our goodbyes. Mum took a step back and nodded towards the black car that pulled up outside.
“Don’t keep your grandmother waiting.”