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ELIZABETH
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A SLENDER, FAIR WOMAN stood at the front door, holding Rosie in her arms. The little girl was dressed in a pink gown and tiny shoes in a matching color. Her soft, light brown hair was tied up in a small, bouncy ponytail at the top of her head.
Even from a distance, I could see the woman’s stunning eyes were sea blue like Brian’s.
“My mother,” Brian said as we pulled into the driveway.
Would I ever get used to the werewolf discrepancy between age and appearance? Brian’s mother, Jack’s grandmother and Rosie’s great-grandmother looked my age.
I took in a deep breath to steady my frantic heart. Brian squeezed my hand, walked around the car to open my door and helped me out.
I remembered to smile as Anwen Canagan approached us. She lowered Rosie to the ground and hugged her son. “Oh, Brian. You look good, son! How’s your leg?”
“Khaliii,” Rosie called him, her arms outstretched.
“Much better, Mom,” he said and kissed her cheek, then lifted Rosie. “Mom, this is Elizabeth Chatwin. Elizabeth, this is my mother ... Hey, sweetie. How’s Grandpa’s favorite girl?”
Rosie giggled and gave her grandpa a wet smack on his cheek.
Anwen greeted me with a hug. “I’m so glad to finally meet you. Brian refused to show you to us, you know.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Canagan.”
Two green-blue eyes, so much like Brian’s, smiled at me. “Please call me Annie. Come inside, Rob’s so impatient to see you.”
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PINK AND WHITE BALLOONS, ribbons and fresh roses adorned the Canagan’s spacious living room. The buffet was served on the big dining room table, pushed toward the wall.
A formidable black-haired man with sharp facial features and dark eyes approached me, taking both of my hands in his. “I’m Robert Canagan, Brian’s father. I’m so happy to meet you, Elizabeth.”
“Likewise, Mr. Canagan,” I said in a small voice. Brian had his mother’s eyes, but he definitely took after his father.
“Call me Robert, honey. Or Rob.”
“I’m James Mohegan,” said another big, strong man with a broad smile. “I’m honored to meet you.”
I smiled, took his hand and shook it. If there was such a thing as fondness at first sight, it had just happened between James Mohegan and me.
Then a gracious, blond-haired and blue-eyed woman drew near. “Hello, Elizabeth. I’m Ella, Astrid’s grandmother,” she said with a smile.
Ella, the asanni.
One by one, the family and guests introduce themselves to me: Ella’s husband, Gottfried, Morgaine, the ellida of Gelltydd Coch. Beautiful, powerful and regal.
Winston’s ellida, Ariel looked ethereal, as if she was made of some higher substance. Her hair was the palest shade of blond, very long and arranged into elaborate braids. Her light amber eyes were striking. She was twenty-one, I’d heard, but looked younger. Lily had told me once that Ariel had been her clan’s ellida since she was twelve, the youngest ellida of the werewolf realm.
Livia Blake. Lani. Harriet, Lily, Peyton. Eve Mohegan, who looked way younger than the first time we’d met, waved at me. The upward tug of her lips couldn’t be called a smile, but I appreciated the effort.
Lots of female power in one room.
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AFTER A QUICK COFFEE, all the men dispatched to do various last-minute tasks. I’d attracted lots of attention, naturally. It didn’t bother me, at least not too much, for the women gathered in the Canagans’ grand sitting room hadn’t forgotten the reason why we all were there—Rosie’s birthday.
As Brian had predicted, his mother hovered over me. She seemed to like me. Or, more likely, she appreciated the fact that there was a woman in her son’s life. Brian was becoming his old self, and she was ready to love me for that.
I was aware of Eve’s subtle tension. I felt the same about her. After all, we were responsible for each other’s emotional mess. Our eyes would meet every once in a while. The semblance of a smile with a hint of challenge stayed on her lovely, young face. Maybe I wore it, too.
It’d take time for the two of us to feel comfortable in each other’s presence.
Fortunately, the room started filling with more relatives and friends and Eve and I had to end our little power contest.
And then I heard another car stopping in front of the house. I glanced through the window and saw Jacob and Lottie get out of Ahmed’s minivan.
In a few steps, I was in the hallway.
The door opened and Jacob rushed in. I bent and opened my arms. “Jacob!”
“Betty!” He flew into my embrace. I lifted him and spun him around. “I missed you, young man! Look at you! You grew so much!”
He hugged me with all his might. “Can I sleep at your place tonight?”
“Jacob, we agreed you wouldn’t ask about that, didn’t we?” I heard Lottie behind him. “Better give Elizabeth what you have for her.”
“Of course he can,” I mouthed over Jacob’s shoulder.
He unclasped his arms from my neck and took out a miniature chocolate bar from his pocket. A part of his flight meal, obviously. It was all squished and softened, but my eyes filled with tears when he said, “I saved it for you. I know you like chocolate. And I made lots of pictures for you. They’re in my suitcase.”
I showered him with kisses. “My favorite chocolate! Thank you so much, Jacob!” I opened the wrapper, took a bite of the bar and pushed the rest of it into his little mouth. “Mmm, delicious. So, what did you draw for me?”
“A dinosaur, a train, a truck and a helicopter. And me and you when we were camping in your room.”
My heart melted. He remembered. “And I have something for you, but I can’t tell you right now what it is. It’s a surprise.”
He beamed. “A toy? Tell me the first letter.”
“T.”
“Truck? Or train? T-Rex? Can I see it?”
“Ah, you’re so smart. It’s a train set.”
His small fist punched the air. “Yippee! I’m staying here for many days.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Jacob,” I said glancing at Lottie and wondering if something was wrong.
After greeting her numerous Red Cliffs and Copper Ridge friends, Lottie made it to me. I put Jacob down and hugged her. “Lottie! It’s good to see you again.”
She took a step back to give me a once-over. “Look at you! You look fantastic! I told you you’d like it here.”
“That you did. Only you neglected to tell me why. Not that I would believe you anyway. I paused. “You know that I know, do you?”
“Of course.” She turned to Astrid. “I told you she’d figure you out in no time.”
“It was still faster than we expected,” Astrid said, smiling.
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AZEM’S PARENTS AND his sister, Nabila, were last to arrive. The meeting between Nabila and Brian was tender. It was obvious the two of them were close, but not in a way that would make me worried.
By now everyone and his brother had heard that I was a vardanni. Warm, open and prone to gossiping, the people of Red Cliffs and Copper Ridge were curious about me and made a poor job of hiding it. I was not less fascinated with them, only a little bit more discreet.
My newly discovered sensibilities picked up the vibes I’d been oblivious to only weeks before. Some traction between James and Eve. His hurt. Her sorrow. Both of them worried.
Brian couldn’t loosen up either, making me feel wound up in return.
Dr. Falkenstein’s blue eyes often rested on Lani. She’d feel it and glance at him, only to see him turn away. Then her gaze would follow him until he caught it. Then she’d look away. He was shy. She was cautious. They both were intrigued.
People were becoming an open book for me. Or perhaps I understood them better.
I watched the ellidas. They had a silent language of their own, spoken only with raised eyebrows, glances and subtle movements of their heads and hands. Ariel’s golden eyes, for example, followed Jack’s brother Eamon. Astrid and Morgaine both caught it and smiled. Then Astrid glanced first at me and Brian, and then looked at Ariel, her left eyebrow arching ever so slightly. Ariel made a slight nod with her head.
Whatever Astrid had asked her, the answer was affirmative.
Azem and Lily were always within arm’s reach of each other as if they were connected with some invisible string.
Lottie was happy and excited to be among her friends, yet not completely relaxed. Why had Jacob said he would stay here for many days?
I scanned the room looking for her. She was engaged in a lively conversation with Azem’s sister. And then she pulled out her phone and showed Nabila some photos.
Poor David. Unless he took care of his love life, Lottie wouldn’t rest until she saw her son married.
I glanced at Brian, who stood with Rob, Jack, Astrid and a few others. His father waved to me to join them.
They were recollecting anecdotes about Brian when he was a little boy. He’d loved climbing trees, riding horses, swimming in a lake on their estate, fishing with his father. Treasured memories that all parents liked to share, the testimonies of a happy childhood.
I heard other interesting childhood stories: Red Cliffs’ Deputy Sheriff Adam Mackenzie told us about his and Jack’s friendship, like when they had both been five and dared each other to taste soapsuds. With humor in his eyes, Tristan described Astrid’s tumultuous teenage years when she’d faked her and Ingmar’s birth dates and registered them for an auto rally in Cairo. Ahmed mentioned his pampered childhood in Smyrna and the day he’d fallen from the top of an apple tree, only to be caught, before he hit the ground, by his asyr grandfather.
“He materialized out of nowhere,” Ahmed said. “Much later I learned that he was a wizard.”
And the best friend of Piri Reis, I remembered, the cartographer over whose maps my father and I had spent hours? I didn’t dare to ask.
“Your childhood must be interesting, Elizabeth,” Astrid said, interrupting my thoughts. “You lived in different places, and you traveled a lot, didn’t you?”
How did they know? “It was, but was not nearly as eventful as yours,” I said.
“Of course it was eventful,” Brian said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “You saw the world, you mastered several languages, you were a junior fencing champion, a swimmer, an archer, an accomplished horseback rider.”
When had I told him all these things? Or perhaps Lottie had.
I blushed. “I was an athletic child, yes,” I said. “I managed to pass that stage uninjured, though. A remarkable achievement, given how daring I was.” I rummaged through my memory for an event appropriate for the occasion. Something unusual, in a human way. Drat. Lots of trees climbed, but no spectacular falls. Years of riding, but no broken bones. No memorable mischiefs. Ah, there was something. “The only serious thing happened when I was very young. I barely remember it. I woke up one morning, at dawn, screaming in pain, quite out of myself. I didn’t stop for hours. My parents rushed me to the hospital, but the doctors never figured out the cause. All the tests came back negative, and it never happened again.” I smiled and shrugged. “It isn’t much of a story, but at least there is a touch of mystery in it.”
“And how old did you say you were, Elizabeth?” Ellida Morgaine’s voice came from behind, startling me. The last time I’d noticed her, a few short seconds ago, she was on the other side of the room. She’d been deep in talk with a flushed Lani and a smiling Dr. Falkenstein. Who, by the way, with his noble posture and in his formal attire—blue jacket and beige pants—resembled his Holy Roman Emperor grandfather to the point of absurdity.
“I’d just turned three,” I said, turning toward her. “It happened one day after my birthday.”
“When is your birthday?” she asked.
“October tenth.”
“How interesting,” Ellida Morgaine said.
Was it? Was I imagining things, or did she and the two other ellidas exchange a look? Why would that obscure but otherwise unimportant episode be of any interest to them?
And then they smiled, all three of them, as if sharing an intimate joke.
“And now,” Astrid said, and clapped her hands, “time for the cake!”
We all gathered around the table brought in from the kitchen, with an amazing castle cake in different shades of pink. A white candle was inserted in the tallest turret. The tiny flame burned not upward, but horizontally, resembling a flag blowing in the wind, and it was brilliant pink. A touch of wizard magic, I guessed.
Astrid and Jack held Rosie between them, and we sang her the birthday song. Jack lowered her closer to the cake and she blew the candle out with great skill, laughing and clapping happily.
And then—the most exciting part: the present opening. The children sat on the floor in a semi-circle around Astrid with Rosie in her lap. Jack was passing the gifts wrapped in colorful papers and ribbons to his little daughter and helping her open them.
I didn’t expect to see department store toys and clothes, yet I was still amazed by their originality: from Brian’s handcrafted carousel to Eve and James’s wooden medieval castle, with the lord, the lady, their children, servants, horses, furniture and accessories. It was so beautifully detailed that it could serve as a crash course in middle age history. A pair of tiny, custom-made cowboy boots and a white Stetson from Peyton and Ingmar, and a delicate pink and white art deco lamp from the Blakes, an embroidered blanket from Lottie. Each present was a statement of love and affection.
Rosie’s parents gave her a silver necklace with an exclusive pendant—a smiling she-wolf head with topaz eyes—and put it around Rosie’s neck. I’d noticed that Astrid wore a similar necklace, only her wolf was bigger and had green eyes. I suspected important symbolism in it and made a mental note to later ask Brian about it.
When Astrid opened my present, Rosie’s eyes went round and she let out a long, “Oooh!”
The quilt was astounding indeed. Light, soft, not too thick, not too thin. The pale pink surface was covered with dozens of butterflies in white, rose, red, purple and peach colors with dots and tiny flowers on their wings.
“Wow! This is so beautiful!” Astrid said. “Look, Rosie, so many butterflies there are here.” She looked up at me. “Thank you so much, Elizabeth. This is a handmade quilt; I can tell. And it’s the perfect size for her bed. Where did you get it?”
“My friend Alain’s mom made it,” I said. “Quilting is her hobby.”
Rosie lowered her little head and buried it in the quilt. “Butte-flies! Butte-flies,” she repeated, excitedly.
“Rosie loves it!” Astrid said warmly. “Thank you again, Elizabeth.”
The last hour of the party I spent sitting on the floor in the “playground zone” with Rosie in my lap, surrounded by Jacob, Zana, baby Aydan, several other kids, a dog and a cat. Perfect.
When Rosie reached for her stuffed ladybug and called it “Betty,” I felt such a rush of love for the little girl that I had to fight tears.
I kissed her soft light brown curls, swallowing a lump in my throat. She sighed and pressed her little head against my shoulder. It was coming closer to her bedtime and she was sleepy.
Zana jumped onto her feet. “I want another piece of cake,” she said and dashed toward the side table filled with desserts.
Jacob moved closer until our sides touched and showed me the drawing he was working on. “Do you like my dragon? I made it for Mom and Dad. Molly’s my mom now, do you know that? Mom bought lots of frames and put all my pictures in them and hanged them on the wall all over the house. She calls it modern art.”
“Oh, I love it, Jacob,” I said, looking at his picture. “You’re so talented. I’m looking forward to seeing the rest of your artwork.”
Without lifting his eyes from the book he was reading, Henry Radford, a dark-haired and green-eyed boy of seven or eight, said, “You have your own exhibition, Jacob, even though it’s in your home. Cool.”
“I do?” Jacob said, impressed. “What’s an exhibition?”
“It’s an organized display, usually of art, and it could be permanent or temporary,” Henry said. “Yours seems like a permanent one since your mom invested money in picture frames.”
“What are you reading, Henry?” I asked him, smiling at the smudged yellowish face paint on his cheek. When Jacob and I arrived at the Canagans’ house earlier that day, Ingmar asked the older kids if they wanted to have face painting before the magic show. Zana had chosen a butterfly, Rosie got a tiny pink flower, Jacob couldn’t decide between a T-Rex and a Batman sign. Henry Radford had opted for a white blood cell. Fortunately, Ingmar was a doctor, so painting a giant white blood cell on Henry’s cheek hadn’t been a problem.
“It’s about famous chess games,” he said, lifting his eyes from the book. “Is it the truth that your parents were famous scientists?”
“Maybe ‘famous’ isn’t the most accurate word. They were great scientists.”
“You’re famous here.”
Well, it certainly wasn’t something I had wished for, so I could only hope my celebrity status would eventually fade out.
Zana came back with a Florentine biscuit on a plate and resumed her seat on the floor. She glanced at Henry’s book. “Elizabeth, do you know that Henry is the best chess player in Red Cliffs and Copper Ridge? Jack says so.”
“I believe you’ve mentioned it,” I said.
“We don’t know that, Zana,” Henry said, brushing a lock of dark hair from his forehead. “I haven’t played chess with every single person here who plays it, so we can’t be sure.” He looked at me with his smart green eyes. “Do you perhaps play chess, Miss Chatwin?”
He was so sweet with his grown-up language and perfect gentlemanly manners. “I do. I used to play it a lot with my father. It would be my pleasure to have a match with you, Mr. Radford.”
“Please call me Henry.”
“Okay, Henry. And you call me Elizabeth.”
“So maybe next week, Elizabeth?” he asked, his green eyes shining with anticipation.
“Next week it is.”
Zana clapped her hands. “This is going to be freaking awesome!” Then her face fell. “Aw, dang. I won’t be here.” She picked up the remaining piece of Florentine and shoved it in her mouth. “Darned luck!”
“Watch your language, young lady,” her mother warned her from the other side of the room.
Eve was standing beside us for a while, waiting for us to conclude our chess discussion, and said, “I’ll take Rosie now. She’s ready for bed.”
My eyes scanned the room. The guests were getting ready to leave.
Upon hearing her grandmother’s voice, Rosie, who was almost asleep, lifted her head and smiled. “Bibi,” she said softly.
“Come, my love,” Eve said and opened her arms.
I stood up and passed Rosie to her, almost gasping from the sudden, aching emptiness.
“Let’s give all your four teeth a nice brush,” Eve carried on. “Then Bibi will tuck you into your bed and read you a story. Mommy and Daddy need a good rest, so you’re staying with Grandpa James and me tonight.” She looked down at me with a stiff smile. “If you leave before I come back, have a good night, Elizabeth.”
“You too, Eve,” I said.
Soon after, the guests started departing. Lottie and Jacob were lodged at Rowena and Ahmed’s, but tonight Brian and I would take Jacob with us.
It had been a long day for my little friend. On our way back to Copper Ridge, he sat in the back seat along with Zana and her mother. I thought he’d fallen asleep, but then I heard his slow, drowsy voice from behind me.
“Betty, can you make ebelskiver for breakfast?” he asked as we approached Copper Ridge.
I turned in my seat. “I’m not sure if Mrs. Killian has an ebelskiver pan in her pantry Jacob.”
“Then I’ll go to town tomorrow morning and buy it,” Brian said, glancing in the rear mirror at Jacob. “Then perhaps you, Zana and I can help Elizabeth make them. What do you think?”
“Yes!” Jacob exclaimed with renewed enthusiasm.
“Yes!” Zana said readily. “What’s ebelskiver?”
“Round pancakes,” Brian explained, “like little balls, filled with ... hmm, what are we going to fill them with, Jacob? Zana?”
“Strawberry jam!” Jacob said.
“Hazelnut spread!” Zana chimed in.
“Sweet baked cheese with vanilla bean and lemon rind!” Nabila added.
“Apricot jam!”
“Rosehip jam!”
It seemed I was going to spend all morning making ebelskiver.
Brian leaned in and whispered to me “Remember when you made them for Jacob the first time? We were on the phone when he and his father came. You and Jacob had a very interesting conversation.”
I smirked. “I don’t remember.”
“Liar.”
“You shouldn’t have eavesdropped.”
“You shouldn’t have been naughty and told me your date had arrived. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“It was hard to resist. You shouldn’t have heard the rest of our conversation, though.”
“I wouldn’t have if you’d pressed the mute button. Instead, I heard not only,” here he lowered his voice even more, “Jacob’s marriage proposal, but your breathing and your heartbeats.”
I’d been an open book for him from the very beginning. I smiled at my belated realization. He could hear every time my heart quickened and my breath hitched. I felt exposed and, at the same time, strangely liberated. He must have known how I felt about him. No need to hide it.
“We can have ebelskiver every morning because I’m staying here for many days,” Jacob said from the back seat, bringing me back to reality.
This was the second time he’d mentioned it. I glanced at Brian, the vulnerability of my feelings and possible implications temporarily forgotten. “Problems?”
Brian shook his head. “Only precaution. I’ll tell you later.” He addressed Jacob once more. “Then you and I should go fishing one of these days. I hear you’re a great fisherman.”
“I’ll show you how to catch a big fish,” Jacob said. “Ned and I caught a very big pike with sharp teeth.”
“Then we have a deal, young man.”
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BY THE TIME I TOOK Jacob to the bathroom to do his business and brush his teeth, he could barely keep his eyes open.
I tucked him into my bed. “May I see my presents,” he said, yawning.
I stroked his hair. “First thing tomorrow morning, I promise.”
“Can you stay with me? Just for a bit?”
“Of course,” I said and took off my shoes and stretched out on the bed. “Now close your eyes and sail your ship straight toward Dreamland, Captain Wakefield.”
“I like your room,” he said and yawned. “I’ll ask Dad to paint my room green.” The next moment he was asleep.
Brian had asked me earlier to join him and Nabila in the library once I’d put Jacob to bed, but I didn’t feel like going. The two of them hadn’t seen each other for a while and had lots to catch up on.
I’d stay here just a bit longer, I thought, and then I’d take a shower and move to Brian’s room. Just a few more minutes, and then I’d go. Just two minutes.
My own ship floated to Dreamland right behind Jacob’s.