“It is good to see you again. I have missed you.”
Gwyn frowned at my words. I was not usually so plainspoken. I had forgotten the art of speaking with the fae, the constant verbal fencing. If the Hunt had been here they would have seen it as weakness to be exploited, but Gwyn was an old enough comrade to give me a little grace.
“Indeed it has been a while,” I continued. “But I cannot tell you the tale yet. I come here to ask a favour.”
“If it is in my power to grant,” Gwyn spread his hands expansively, “and if you can pay for it, then it is yours.”
“I want to turn a human into one of the high fae,” I said, and as the words left my mouth I wondered if it was even possible. “Immortal, strong. Able to navigate the Wild Roads.”
Gwyn’s eyes widened and he laughed, the sound echoing around the hillside like distant thunder.
“Well, that is not what I was expecting you to say, Mallt. There is a better story here than I had thought! You’ve lost your heart to a mortal? I never thought that you of all the folk would do something so wonderfully foolish. Tell me their name.”
“Her name is Belis,” I whispered, and even her name brought icy tears to my eyes. Gwyn’s smile dropped and he moved closer.
“Love’s a terrible burden, Mallt,” he said, laying a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Even for ones as strong as us. There is little I would not do for it, would burn the world to bloody ashes if I had to.”
“Can you help me?” I asked.
Gwyn filtered through the charms and pendants that hung from his neck on chains of gold and silver. He picked one, snapping the chain as if it were a blade of grass, and held it out to me. It was a fishhook, carved from a splinter of bone. He rummaged in a pouch at his side and withdrew a tiny glass bottle before extending one arm.
“Cut my skin with the hook and catch a few drops of blood. If your girl drinks of it then she will become one of my people.Immortal life, inhuman strength and speed. If she wants a place of her own she can try for the Hunt, or if you would rather keep her to yourself she can wander the wilds with you.”
I looked at the bronze skin of his wrist and then back up at him.
“And the price?”
His lip curled. “You would pay anything, why stoop to bargain with me?” He shrugged his shoulders. “For this there is no price, no payment. This is not a favour or a bargain. I give it to you freely, by right of the years we have known each other.”
I picked up the hook and he held up one finger.
“This thing, once done, cannot be undone. It will cut her off from the mortal world, both in life and death. The high fae are not humans and neither will she be.”
“I understand.” I paused. Gwyn looked as if he had more to say, but the words were not coming easily to him. “Anything else?”
“You know my nature, Mallt. You know what happens when one of the fae gives a gift or grants a wish. There is always a sting in the tail, a thorn on the rose. This is not a warning I would give a mortal. It is difficult for me to say, but you are an old comrade and you should know what you are getting.”
I nodded and dug the hook into the flesh and pressed the lip of the bottle into the skin to catch the hot blood. When I was done Gwyn raised his wrist to his mouth and licked at the wound, sealing it shut.
“Come and see the Hunt soon, Mallt,” he said. “Creiddylad misses you. It does not do well to walk always alone.”
Gwyn stamped on the crest of the barrow and the ground split open beneath him. He waved a hand at me and walked into the earth, the scent of the Wild Roads lingering even after the soil had slid back into place.
Belis reined in her horse as we reached the path, the beast’s hooves clattering on the cobblestones. Below us the murkybrown sea stretched to the eastern horizon, strafed with thin lines of white waves.
“Wait here,” she said, dismounting, her boots slapping on the stones of the road. “I’ll go and try and find us passage.”
“Let me,” Cati said eagerly. “Please, it’ll be safe enough.”
Belis hesitated for a moment then nodded. We watched as her sister rode down the road to the fishing village. I sniffed the air, enjoying the taste of salt on my tongue. The glass bottle sat in my pocket, heavy as a menhir.
“Gods, I hope she doesn’t find a captain to take us,” said Belis suddenly. “Not today at least. Just one more day, please one more day.”
I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. She leaned back against me, tucking her head under my chin. I thought of all the things we had been to each other, all that we could be. I wondered whether it was fair to ask her to stay with me. I was a goddess again now; we weren’t supposed to be selfish. Maybe one last human act would be all right.
“I have an offer for you, Belis,” I said, at last. She turned back to me, her hair wild around her shoulders. I tucked a curl behind her ear and tried for a smile.
“That sounds intriguing,” Belis said, grinning up at me. I was taller than her now and her face seemed different from above, softer, younger, but it wasn’t too late, we could still be as we were.
