Tamsyn’s hand still in his, Bowen started running in that direction, coming out just by the drive.
The front door was still open, light spilling out, and the wailing was louder now, the whole house shaking with it.
He and Tamsyn made their way up the slick stone steps into the castle, and Bowen nearly had to cover his ears against the incessant howling, the shrieking, the clattering of suits of armor from somewhere deeper within the house.
“It’s like it was before,” Tamsyn said, raising her voice over the cacophony. “When we first got to Tywyll House.”
She turned to Bowen, her face pale, her eyes huge and stricken.
“It’s Emerald, Bowen. Emerald’s the ghost.”
Chapter 23
Tamsyn had thought it was awful before, hearing those unearthly wails echoing through Tywyll House, but that had been before she knew the source of those wails was a too-smart teenage girl with big hazel eyes and a love for adventure and the forbidden, a friend who had wanted to help them.
“Don’t cry, love, we’ll fix this,” Bowen said.
Tamsyn hadn’t realized she was crying until now, but her cheeks were wet with tears, her eyes stinging.
Emerald.
Oh, Emerald.
“How?” she asked Bowen. “You can’t do magic, there’s nothing magic in the damn brooch, and we don’t even know what kind of bullshit spell Emerald did out of that book because the book has vanished, too. We can’t fix this just because we want to, Bowen. We need . . . I don’t know. We need you to be a witch right now, but you’re not.”
“Who’s not a witch?”
Tamsyn looked up to see Elspeth standing on the stairs, wrapped in a cream silk dressing gown, her long auburn hair loose down her back. Harri was just behind her in a pair of pajamas not unlike those Bowen had worn his first night here, pushing up his glasses with one finger as he studied the scene before him.
“I’m not,” Bowen told her. “Or I’m not right now. I’m . . . ah, fuck it. I’m from the future. I was sent back here for Goddess knows why. Thought it was to get you two to realize you should get hitched, but that clearly wasn’t it because you’re hitched as hitched can be, and I’m still bloody here, aren’t I? And Emerald isn’t. Or she is, but—”
Another horrible wail filled the air, and Tamsyn saw Bowen slam his eyes shut, a muscle in his jaw twitching.
“She’s here, but she’s this. And it’s my fault. Just like it was with Declan.”
“Don’t say that,” Tamsyn said, taking his hand, but it was no use. The guilt in his face made her stomach hurt, made her wish there were something—anything—she could do to make him stop looking like that.
“Why did you need us to get married?” Elspeth asked, coming down the stairs on bare feet, and then she stopped just on the last step, her eyes searching Bowen’s face.
“Oh,” she said softly. “You’re a Penhallow. You’re . . .”
“Your grandson,” Bowen said, his voice quiet. “In three years, you’ll have a son. You’ll call him Simon, and he’ll be a right prick most of the time, if I’m being honest. He’ll have three sons. Llewellyn, me, and Rhys.”
“Not a Henry, then?” Harri asked, and Elspeth shot him a look over her shoulder that had him holding up both hands. “I’m just saying! It’s a fine name! Certainly better than Llewellyn. Christ, almost feel sorry for the little bugger. How did I not manage to talk my son out of that?”
He was smiling as he said it, but the longer he looked at Bowen’s face, the more that smile faded.
“Because he was born after I died,” Harri finally surmised, and Bowen didn’t bother to nod.
“And me?” Elspeth asked, her tone light but her eyes sad. “Suppose I wasn’t around to talk this Simon out of such a mouthful of a name?”
Again, Bowen didn’t answer, and Tamsyn slipped her arm through his, holding him tight.
“If it’s any consolation,” he said at last, “it’s been good getting to know the pair of ye now. I mean, you’re both bigger pains in the arse than Da ever let on, but I’m glad I got to know that.”
Elspeth laughed at that, but there were tears in her eyes, and when she reached behind her, Harri took her hand and clasped it tightly.
“Well, a good thing we got to meet you, too,” Elspeth said, and then she shook her head, brushing away the tears she hadn’t let fall. “And a good thing your grandmother—Goddess, that will take some getting used to—is a very powerful witch. Tell me, what has Emerald done?”
Bowen explained the stupid booklet as best he could and Y Seren as well.
“Let me see it,” Elspeth said when he was done, and he handed over the brooch. It felt heavier now, colder, and he saw Elspeth shudder as she touched it.
“Ellie,” Harri said in a warning tone, but his new wife held up her free hand and said, “This is what you married me for, Harri, so let me do it.”
“I actually married you for your amazing tits, but continue.”
Elspeth barked out a laugh even as Bowen gritted his teeth and looked briefly heavenward, but Tamsyn just tucked in closer to him and said, “I’m glad you got to see them like this. Young and in love. No matter what happens, Bowen. I’m glad we were here.”
He held her hand, looked down at her, and said, simply, “So am I.”
She heard everything he was really saying with those three words, and hoped he’d understood what she’d been saying, too. Just in case he hadn’t, she raised up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“There is one thing,” Elspeth said, studying Y Seren. “I can make this into a very powerful artifact indeed. Powerful enough to bring Emerald back from whatever shadow realm her foolish spell has banished her to. Powerful enough to one day bring the two of you back in time and, one hopes, powerful enough to send you back to where you belong. But there’s a chance that a spell this powerful will take just as much as it gives. Harri and I will be safe because of our magic, but the two of you?” She shook her head. “You without your powers, Bowen; you a human, Tamsyn. I am about to infuse this gem with an all-powerful spell, and there is a better than average chance it may drain the life force from one of you. So. Since I’ll need to know before I focus my magic, which of you will it be?”
Chapter 24
“Me,” Bowen said so quickly Elspeth had barely finished her sentence.
