“Still. The Spear of Longinus is out there. Somewhere.”
“It is,” Charles said, the notion sobering. “The witch had other intentions, of that we can be sure. Perhaps Merle will have an answer. Until we locate the Holy Lance, we must be vigilant and look for it whenever we tread Annwn. It is too important—and powerful—of a relic to remain in the hands of such a creature. The witch sent Lazarus into the Vatican to secure it for her own reasons. Few could have crossed into Rome and bested its portal knight, especially one as strong as Bruno Ricci. Fewer still would have enough knowledge of our world and that of the Bible’s history to make his way to the Vatican Library and eventually gain the staff from the pontiff. No, it was a bold move and well orchestrated. We will hear from the witch again.”
Berrytrill grunted. “It never ends.”
“I just hope we are up to the task,” Charles added. “The witch has been alive a very long time and has learned patience. We will have to do the same.”
“We will,” Berrytrill said, before looking off toward the Snowdon. “There are good qualities, like patience, learned by the passage of time—but darker qualities too.” The fairy paused. “Humans are fascinating. There are Tuatha de Dannan who live for centuries but who never succumb to the madness that clearly had taken hold of Lazarus. Why did the vampire choose death?”
“Humans aren’t meant to be long lived, I guess,” Charles reflected. “Besides, life is much more than longevity. Quality of years is more important than quantity. Lazarus learned that all too well. No quality could be gained from his continued existence—at least that’s how he felt. He therefore decided to end it on his terms.”
“What does quality mean to you?”
Charles did not answer immediately.
“A loving wife,” he said finally. “Looking into her eyes and knowing peace as I’ve never known. Sunlight on my face in spring, when the world is escaping winter in Seattle. A kind gesture from a stranger. Traveling to Annwn and seeing what this world has to offer. Having a baby on the way and all the anticipation that brings.” He smiled and looked to the fairy. “Enjoying friendship like ours at every possible moment.”
“And Lazarus no longer had those things?”
“I suspect he did. He just could no longer see them.”
Berrytrill hovered in the air quietly, thinking on that.
“There are souls who fight to live,” Charles added, also mulling it over. “And there are those who give up all too easily.”
“Do you think he has found peace with his God?” Berrytrill asked. “Or is he in that place of fire and brimstone you mention all too often when you curse?”
“Hell,” Charles said. “We won’t know until our reckoning day, I suppose.”
“Your reckoning,” the fairy admonished.
“Oh?”
“I plan to live forever.”
“You just may,” Charles said, smiling. “But you’ll miss me if you do.”
Berrytrill looked toward the horizon, frowning deeper, as if trying to see that day and not liking what he saw. Charles grinned inwardly at his private joke and followed his guide’s gaze. Several ravens swirled in the distance, upon currents of air from Annwn’s ocean in the south. They settled back to one of the sentinel trees outside of the Forest of Dean before taking flight again. The dark birds were free, much like Lazarus. They had no reason to fear the world around them. They were unfettered but, unlike the vampire, they were enjoying the life they had been given.
“Bran,” Charles whispered.
“What?” Berrytrill questioned.
“Bran means ‘raven’ in Welsh,” the knight said and continued to watch the birds. “It’s a good, strong name for the baby.”
“Bran Ardall,” the guide tested. “I like it.”
Charles nodded.
“How do you know you are having a boy child?”
“Whether he knew it or not,” Charles said, smiling sadly. “Lazarus shared with me a gift before his death.”
“A boy child. You should name him Trill instead. A more regal name the boy child could not have,” Berrytrill mused with a sarcastic sniff before becoming smiling bits of leaves. “Where do we travel now?”
“Home,” he said. “And, if he has returned, for a long discussion with Merle.”
The Heliwr of the Yn Saith took a step down the steep trail that led to the plains below the granite outcropping, already removing the light cloak from his pack that would hide his world’s odd attire in the foreign territory. With Berrytrill flying ahead to keep their passage safe, Charles strode west toward Dryvyd Wood where the Seattle portal thrummed entrance to a city that held his heart.
Home to his expecting wife and their forthcoming baby boy.
And a life worth living.