I thought he was the main character. I thought I was one too. But the truth is, I’m a nothing and a nobody. And Llywelyn is only ever going to be a footnote in the history books.
I’m truly nothing now. No longer in the game. I guess that means I’m never going to have my strings pulled again. I’m no longer a puppet. I have no use. There is no need to manipulate me, control me. I’m no one’s enemy. No one’s ally.
Does this mean I’m free? For the first time in my life?
I’m not sure how I feel about that. So I just drive. And drive.
Slowly, it dawns on me that I’m going somewhere. I’m not simply aimlessly travelling. While most of me has been numb, part of my mind has been working and it has given me somewhere to go, something to try.
A sob escapes me. This doesn’t feel like hope. It feels like further torment.
I have one destination in mind. After that… I can’t even think about it. I’m nowhere ready to process that.
There is the destination, and nothing else.
The necklace around my necks seems to grow heavier. As if it is aware of the weight of expectation I am putting on it. Maybe it is. Who knows? It is a fey piece of jewellery, it could be capable of anything.
I draw in a jagged breath and fight the urge to pray for the necklace to be capable of the one thing I want it to be.
Let it be true. Let the words Llywelyn spoke be really a riddle that I didn’t fathom until Dyfri gave me that look as he removed my collar.
Please don’t let me be clutching at straws.
Please don’t let me be foolishly clinging to fragments and misinterpreting what Llywelyn said to me. I really don’t think I could cope with another loss. I’m pretty sure I’m already shattered, it’s just taking a while for all my pieces to fall apart.
I drive and drive. I don’t dare to hope.
The tiny car park is empty, and the sun is setting when I arrive at my destination. I get out of the car and start walking. I don’t even bother to shut the car door behind me. The car pings at me as I walk away.
I follow the path across a field and into the woods. The dirt path twists into a clearing and I stop.
The stone circle isn’t a very impressive one. A dozen stones, around my height. It’s a public monument and gets some tourists, but nothing like Stonehenge or Avebury.
But this is the name Llywelyn whispered to me as he placed gold around my neck. I thought it was a poem. I hope it was a riddle.
My hand wraps around my necklace. If I don’t move now, I never will.
My feet step forward. One step, two steps, three.
I’m in the stone circle. My lungs freeze. My heart pauses.
Nothing happens.
A choking noise sticks in my throat. My head spins. My heart breaks.
And the world shifts. A bright swirl of colour and a defying of gravity, and from one blink to the next, I’m somewhere else.
The stone circle is exactly the same. Exactly. The same stones with the same pock marks. Standing in the exact same configuration. Still surrounded by trees. Still in a clearing in the woods.
But these are different woods. And it is morning here. And it appears to be midsummer, instead of the late spring I left behind on Earth.
Dazedly, I look around. The sky is achingly blue. The grass verdant green. Soft and lush. A cacophony of bird song is filling the fresh, sweet smelling air. I can see flashes of brightly coloured feathers darting between the majestic trees.
The sun is warm, as well as bright. A glorious summer day. Somewhere nearby, a stream is babbling merrily.
There is no distant roar of traffic. No hum of industry. The blue sky is free from airplane trails.
I breathe in a deep lungful of clean, crisp air and my heart starts to beat properly for the first time since I watched Llywelyn disappear.
