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  Gwen snorted and Ellie gave a peal of laughter.

  “Hardly! I want something sweet. The fruitier, the better. Anything with a little umbrella,” Ellie added, giggling.

  “You think this is a beach resort, do you?” the bartender said, grinning. “I’m sure I’ll find something to suit. And yourself?” He directed this at Gwen. “Did I also mistake you for an old professor?”

  Gwen blushed at the attention.

  “Whatever you have on tap is fine.”

  He smiled mischievously.

  “My choice? Don’t worry, I won’t pour you a Guinness.” He winked and strode off to the taps at the other end of the bar. Ellie looked at him, and back at Gwen’s profile as she looked out into the pub.

  “That’s so weird. You and the bartender totally have the same look. Maybe he’s from the same part of England your mum is from.” Ellie knew all about Gwen’s unusual birth circumstances.

  Gwen eyed him with renewed interest, and then turned to Ellie. “What do you mean, the same look? I don’t look like I’m on fire, thanks very much.”

  “No, no, you know, your face, your features. You’re both all pointy and sharp. You know how great you look in photos, all cheek-boney and dramatic.”

  “What do you know about sharp, little Miss Apple Cheeks? You and your trustworthy face, all round and innocent.”

  “Little do they know, eh?” Ellie giggled.

  The bartender came back carrying their drinks.

  “There we are, señorita,” he said, placing Ellie’s drink in front of her with a flourish. He’d somehow fashioned a perfect little umbrella out of newsprint and a toothpick, and it rested on top of a ruby red drink. Gwen smiled and Ellie gave a delighted giggle.

  “Oh, it’s perfect!” She beamed at the bartender, who grinned.

  “How on earth did you make that so quickly?” Gwen plucked the umbrella out of Ellie’s drink and examined it, marveling.

  “It’s magic. I’m a magician, of course. Day job. Not that it pays enough to give up my night job, but there you are.” He studied her face as she examined the umbrella. Gwen caught his eye and blushed, putting the umbrella back fussily to cover her embarrassment. The bartender placed another drink in front of her.

  “And for you, our special ale tonight, brewed with bilberries.”

  “Thanks.” To fill the awkwardness, she said, “What’s a bilberry?” She busied herself taking a sip. It was actually quite pleasant.

  “They grow in the forest, they’re small and purple—I think they’re related to blueberries?” He cocked his head to the side in question.

  “Oh! Well, then maybe I should drink more, to help me remember my classes tomorrow. Blueberries are good for the memory, you know. Not that I have problems with my memory, but, you know, never too much of a good thing!” Gwen snapped her mouth shut, horrified at her babbling, and took another sip. The bartender laughed.

  “So you’re telling me we should drink ale for our health? I like the way you think.” Another patron waved him over. He waved back and said to the girls, “My name’s Aidan. What do they call you?”

  “I’m Ellie, and this is Gwen,” Ellie said cheerily. Gwen glanced at her.

  “Call me if you need anything, another drink, another umbrella.” He winked at Ellie. “I’ll make sure to have a swig of the bilberry ale so your names are in my noggin for good.” He tapped his head, grinned at Gwen, and moved to the other customer. Gwen felt a nudge from her right.

  “What did I tell you?” Ellie breathed in her ear, giggling. “British boys!’

  ***

  Ellie was nearing the end of her glass, and getting sillier. Gwen was relaxed, but more from being comfortable in the pub and less from her drink, which she’d only sipped at. Ellie slid off her stool and stumbled a little, laughing.

  “Gah, I’m such a lightweight! I’m just going to the bathroom. Or, as they say here,” she affected a terrible posh British accent, “the loo.”

  Gwen laughed and pushed her in the right direction.

  “Go on, you sodden tart.” She watched Ellie weave her way between tables.

  “Well, at least one of the drinks went down well.” Aidan eyed her half-full glass as he cleared away Ellie’s glass and the slightly damp newspaper umbrella.

  “Oh, I didn’t—I mean, it’s really good. I’m just not a big drinker.” She looked sheepishly at Aidan. He laughed.

  “Sure, but here ‘not a big drinker’ means only three drinks an evening. I think my granny drinks more than you on Sundays. But you’re American, right?” He looked at her expectantly.

  “Canadian, actually. Vancouver, on the West Coast.” She fiddled with Ellie’s empty beer mat.

  “Oh, Canada! Have you ever seen a bear, then?” Aidan’s face lit up with excitement. “The closest we’ve got to wildlife here are badgers. Oh, or a wolf?”

  “I’ve seen a few bears. My dad and I go hiking sometimes. No wolves, though. They’re not quite as reckless as bears are.” She relaxed into conversation, the strained embarrassment of earlier drifting away in the face of Aidan’s interest in her world. “We were hiking high in the mountains at Whistler, once, and a huge black bear started stalking us and…”

  A customer hailed Aidan. “Thirsty men over here while you’re chatting with pretty girls, Aidan!”

  “I’ll be right back. Keep your bear story ready.” Aidan pushed off from the counter. “All right, who’s first?” he asked the waiting men.

  Ellie slid into the stool beside Gwen.

  “So, what’d I miss? Were you chatting with Aidan? I think he likes you.”

  “Ellie!” Gwen’s face grew warm and she shoved her shoulder against Ellie’s. “I only just met him. We’ve exchanged maybe three sentences.”

  “Oh, let me have some fun. You’ve got to loosen up a little, Gwen. You’re so on edge sometimes, you worry me.” Ellie looked seriously into Gwen’s eyes, but ruined the effect by hiccupping. They collapsed into giggles.

  Aidan passed by behind the counter, eyeing them curiously.

  “Aidan. What do you do for fun around here?” Ellie suppressed another hiccup behind her hand as Gwen tried not to laugh. Aidan thought for a moment, then his expression cleared.

  “Come by the pub Friday night. We’re getting in a live band and having a bit of a dance.”

  “Dancing!” Ellie said. “Excellent. I adore dancing. Are you working that night or are you coming with your girlfriend?” Ellie looked expectantly at Aidan.

  Gwen gasped and kicked Ellie.

  “Ellie!” she hissed, half appalled and half admiring of Ellie’s initiative. Aidan threw back his head and gave a shout of laughter.

  “Your friend doesn’t beat around the bush, does she?” he said to Gwen, chuckling. “Yeah, I’ll be working. And no, my non-existent girlfriend won’t be there.”

  “Good.” Ellie nodded smugly. “We’ll see you then.” She checked her watch and grabbed Gwen’s arm.

  “Gwen!” she said. “Dinner! In the great hall! We’re going to miss it if we don’t go now!” She clutched Gwen’s shoulders and leveled her gaze into Gwen’s eyes. “We can’t miss it.”

  “Okay, okay.” She opened her wallet and looked at the strange bills inside. “One of these?” she asked Aidan. He grinned.

  “That’ll about do it. But I suggest you learn our money before someone less honest than me swindles you.”

  Gwen gathered her coat.

  “Well, bye then.” She gave a little wave to Aidan. “Nice to meet you.”

  “I still need to hear the end of your story,” he said. “See you Friday.”

  Gwen smiled shyly as Ellie pulled her to the door.

  “See you later, then.”

  Aidan gazed at her as she left, a half-smile relaxing his face.

  “Say,” said a customer sitting nearby who had been watching their exchange. “Do I get half-price beer if I pretend not to know what money looks like?”

  ***

  Gwen flipped thr
ough her English literature textbook as classmates zipped open backpacks and pulled out pens. The chattering of students and scraping of chairs echoed off the vaulted ceilings of the grand guest bedroom-turned-classroom. Ellie gazed enraptured at a tapestry hanging on the wall to Gwen’s right that depicted a hunting scene. Gwen wondered idly why the lions in medieval art always looked so bizarre, with strange curling manes and grotesque humanoid faces. The angry eyes of the lion seemed to bore straight into her own. Strangely unsettled by the tapestry, Gwen turned away with a twinge of unease.

  The professor stood up and the class fell silent in response. He smiled, and said, “Good morning. I hope you’ve all had a chance to do your pre-reading. Today we’ll be discussing the Faerie Queene by Edmund Spenser. Can anyone tell me how the first book begins?”

  A few people raised their hands. Gwen tuned out and looked at her phone, out of sight of the professor in her lap. She’d done the readings and already knew that the knight and the lady were riding their horses through some forest. She’d found the language pretty thick, but had better luck understanding when she’d read the text out loud. She searched for ‘faerie’ on her phone, curious about the title. The first link was simply entitled ‘Fairy.’ She skimmed down the article, reading about characteristics (‘appearing human with magic powers’) and origins (‘spirits of the dead, or demon-figures, or a race separate from either humans or angels’). She kept skimming, and paused at the words ‘sidhe (fairy mounds).’ She clicked on the hyperlinked ‘sidhe,’ frowning slightly.

  The aes sidhe (lit. the people of the mounds) are a mythological race similar to fairies or elves. Legend has them dwelling underground in fairy mounds (sidhe), in a world parallel to our own.

  On a hunch Gwen searched for the word ‘barrow.’ Her heartbeat increased slightly.

  In Great Britain, earthen mounds or barrows were commonly built to bury the dead from the Neolithic to the Bronze Age.

  Gwen shut off her phone, her palms clammy. What did this have to do with the overwhelming sensations she’d felt at the barrow? And why did she get the sense that the barrows had something to do with her long-lost mother? She started paying attention to the professor again.

  “… and you’ll notice the shift in setting. The Red Cross Knight and Una are traveling across an open plain initially. But when the storm comes, they are driven into the dark forest where the monster Error dwells. This is a very common theme throughout literature, not only in the Faerie Queene. The forest is symbolic of wilderness, wildness. It is untamable, chaotic, a manifestation of our primal sides, where everything is not as it seems. The forest is often seen as separate from reason and intellect, the antithesis of the orderly pastures and tamed fields of civilization. The forest is where the Red Cross Knight truly begins his quest to conquer the base vices personified by the monsters and magicians in the forest.”

  Ellie passed a note to Gwen.

  I always knew I was a ‘wild’ one. Guess it’s from all our Canadian forests.

  Gwen suppressed a smile.

  ***

  “Are you sure this looks okay?” Gwen tugged at her emerald green mini-dress. The stratospheric hemline exposed far too much leg for Gwen’s liking, and the color was very striking. Although it wasn’t as conspicuous as Ellie’s outfit—Ellie had paired a short black skirt with a hot pink sequined shirt, and topped the ensemble off with dangly earrings. The earrings winked at Gwen in the setting sun, and brushed against Ellie’s neck with trailing feathers as they walked.

  “Stop fussing,” Ellie said. “You look gorgeous, and green makes your eyes pop. Honestly, you look great, in a demure sort of way.”

  “I only look ‘demure’ because I’m standing next to you,” Gwen said. Ellie rolled her eyes.

  “One day I’ll get you to let your hair down—metaphorically speaking,” Ellie added as Gwen swished her hair at her. “Oh look. They put out streamers.”

  Friday night in Amberlaine was livelier than during the week. Shops were still open, and light spilled out from most store windows. Shoppers and restaurant-goers mingled and wandered down the main avenue. The Green Man pub was on the shadowy side of the sunset-lit street, but cheerily festooned with haphazard streamers. The door was open and drums punctuated the still air. Ellie grinned at Gwen.

  “Ready? Promise me you’ll dance lots?”

  Gwen sighed. She wasn’t fond of dancing, and had hoped to just enjoy the music. She always felt so awkward and wrong-footed dancing. She knew she looked like a fool next to Ellie, whose years of dancing lessons paid off with smooth, sure moves. She gave a wry smile.

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “That’s my girl.” Ellie beamed at her. “Come on, the music waits for no woman.”

  Inside, someone had strung up white twinkle lights around the windows and bar, lending a soft glow to the scene. Tables were shuffled to one side to create a dance floor in front of the band, which included a guitar, an electric bass, a drum kit, and a fiddle. The dance floor had five people bravely twirling and swaying, but the tables were filling fast. Three more people squeezed by Gwen and Ellie as they stood at the door.

  “We’d better get a table, pronto,” Gwen said as she eyed the last two available. Aidan weaved between crowded tables, delivering drinks. As he turned, he saw them and grinned at Gwen. She gave a small wave back, smiling.

  “Who needs a table? We’re here to dance.” Ellie shrugged off her coat, shimmied Gwen out of hers, and threw them over an empty chair beside the door. “There. Now let’s go.”

  Ellie made a beeline for the dance floor, Gwen reluctantly following. Ellie turned, walking backward, and took Gwen’s hands in her own.

  “Let’s show these Brits how dancing’s really done,” Ellie said. Gwen groaned as Ellie whirled her around.

  “There aren’t enough people dancing yet,” Gwen hissed as Ellie wriggled her hips vigorously to the beat. Gwen tried to imitate her, but knew she was failing miserably. “I like it better when there are more people. Then no one looks at me.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” Ellie said as she twirled, her arms in the air. Gwen sighed and contented herself with gently swaying her hips to the beat. She envied Ellie’s complete disregard for the opinions of others, how she did what she wanted without worrying if she looked foolish or extraordinary. Gwen wished she didn’t care, but being ordinary was paramount. She didn’t want to think what might happen if anyone found out exactly how unordinary she really was. No one knew except her father, and keeping a low profile kept it that way. She watched Ellie moving rhythmically, anticipating changes in the music and accompanying them with twirls and shakes, managing to look flowing and exacting and sensual all at once. Gwen concentrated on matching her own shuffling to the beat.

  After a particularly exotic move involving a lot of hand movements across Ellie’s body, Gwen said, “Now you’re just making stuff up.”

  “Of course I am!” Ellie said merrily. “Just do what the music tells you!”

  Their appearance on the dance floor seemed create a critical mass, and people flocked to the floor in droves. The song ended and everyone cheered. Gwen turned in relief to go to a table, but Ellie grabbed her hand.

  “Oh no you don’t,” she said. “Lots more dancing to do yet.”

  “But perhaps you’ll have this dance with me?” A voice spoke from beside them as the music started up again.

  Gwen and Ellie turned to look at the newcomer. Bright green eyes in a narrow pale face gazed steadily at Ellie from below smooth black hair. Gwen raised her eyebrows. He was very handsome, in a strange, exotic way that Gwen couldn’t place. He made such a sharp contrast to Ellie’s apple-cheeked curviness that Gwen would have laughed, except for the way he looked at her friend. There was intensity in his gaze that was more than admiration. A thrill of disquiet snaked down her back.

  Ellie appeared oblivious to this, as she quite readily accepted his offered hand.

  “If you can keep up.” She arched an eyebrow at the s
tranger, who gave a confident smile and twirled her away, his arm around her waist. Ellie shrieked with delight.

  Gwen took the opportunity to exit the dance floor and head for the bar, dropping onto a stool with a sigh. Aidan came up behind the counter looking flustered, a bar towel draped across one shoulder.

  “Hi Gwen. Glad you could make it, you and your very enthusiastic dancing friend.” He pulled a glass out from under the counter. “What’ll it be tonight?”

  “Do you have ginger ale, or some kind of pop? Soft drink?” she asked, feeling lame. She was already on edge and felt exposed without Ellie by her side. She didn’t want to risk losing control of herself.

  “How about a ginger beer?” he said, reaching into the cooler behind him. “I promise there’s no actual beer in it.” He cracked the bottle open and poured a glass for her. “It’s got double the ginger, though, since I poured it.”

  Gwen laughed as she caught his wink. She took the proffered glass and said, “Is it just you working tonight? It’s awfully busy here for just one.”

  “Tell me about it.” Aidan ran his hands through his hair, leaving it standing on end and even wilder than before. His head distinctly looked like a flaming bush. “The person I hired cancelled at the last minute, and the owner’s out of town.” He looked toward the dancing crowd and the band. “The live music night was my idea, and I really want it to go well. I love music.” He gazed at the band, his eyes wistful.

  “Do you play?” Gwen asked, interested. She had played the clarinet briefly in high school, but had sold her instrument immediately after graduation.

  “Yeah, lots of things. Guitar and harp and piano and flute—I wanted to study further, but my mum didn’t think music was a real career.” He laughed without much humor. “So you can imagine how proud of me she is now.”

  A group of dancers peeled out of the throng and headed to the bar.