Mari tried to hurry to the front of the workshop, but her head felt like it was being pounded by heavy pillows. At this moment, all she wanted to do was go to bed and sleep. She wasn’t going to let those lads get caught up in whatever was happening, and if there was a landlord liability then she had to make sure she kept on top of it. “Good afternoon Lord Maldwyn, Carwyn. What’s going on?”

It was a reasonable question. The two men looked ready to come to blows. “Hello, Mari,” Carwyn said. “What are you doing up and around? I heard that you had a shock.”

Lord Maldwyn glared at Gryff who was standing next to Mari, ready to offer support. “I believe that you suffered from a shock.”

“If there’s a problem with the wiring then I need to deal with it,” Mari said firmly. “I won’t have these young lads put at risk.”

Both men stared at her incredulously. Carwyn reached out and put a hand on Mari’s shoulder. “You’ve had a shock but you’re more worried about these young lads?” He took a deep breath and turned to Lord Maldwyn. “I won’t see anyone take advantage of Mrs Hewson,” he snapped. “Especially as she’s not fully informed of all the circumstances.”

“I am in control of the situation,” Lord Maldwyn said haughtily.

“You’re an electrician?” Mari asked, bewildered. He didn’t look like any electrician she’d ever met with his elegant suit and polished shoes.

Lord Maldwyn frowned. “I am in charge of what you may call electricians.” He glared again at Carwyn.

“It’s not that straightforward,” Carwyn said.

“It is exactly that straightforward,” Lord Maldwyn said. “Apart from Mrs Hewson, there is nothing that concerns you. It is nothing…” He frowned as he searched for a word. “I have covered it.”

“What is going on?” Mari asked.

“The people who were here before left clothes that were contaminated,” Carwyn said. “It’s nothing poisonous,” he added quickly. “But the clothes need to be washed in an industrial washer.” He glanced at Lord Maldwyn. “With industrial detergent. By specialists.”

“Don’t be silly,” Mari said. “I’ve been washing oil and grease out of my late husband’s overalls since 1974. I’ll sort them out.” She rubbed at her chest where the uncomfortable sensation of being poked seemed to have settled. “Get the lads to bring the boxes around tomorrow and I’ll get them washed straight away.”

“These clothes need particular care,” Lord Maldwyn said.

Mari sniffed. “I don’t make a habit of ruining clothes,” she said. “It won’t be any trouble. I’ll get them nice and clean and then the lads can use them for rags or whatever they need.” She wanted to argue more, but her head was heavy and she felt exhaustion sliding through her.

Carwyn swore as Mari swayed. “Get home and get to bed!” he snapped. “I’ll send my mam around to help you.”

“Don’t you dare send your mother round, Carwyn Knowles,” Mari said as strongly as she could manage. “I’ll manage just fine.” She looked around. The afternoon sun was warm and bright, heating the pavement beneath her feet and gleaming on the corner windows of the workshop. It still seemed dark, like she was wearing sunglasses. She rubbed a hand over her eyes but there was nothing there.

“Mrs Hewson!” Gryff sounded panicked. “Mrs Hewson, we need to get you back to the house.”

“Allow me,” Lord Maldwyn said coolly, as he stepped forward and swept Mari up in his arms.

“Not at my time of life,” Mari murmured. She was dreaming, wasn’t she?

“I’ve got the keys,” Gryff said.

“I’ll get her into bed where she can sleep,” Lord Maldwyn sounded far away. “Sleep won’t harm her. Gryff can stay in the house with her to keep an eye on things.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“I’ll make up the spare bed,” Mari muttered.

“Don’t worry about that,” Gryff said. “I’ll make you soup and keep watch over you.”

“You need more than that,” Carwyn said. “I’m short handed and you know what else is going on tonight. I can’t be here.”

“I know,” Lord Maldwyn said as he calmly carried Mari back to her house. “Which is why I’m taking care of it. Mrs Hewson will be safe in her home. It’s unlikely that she’ll be affected by anything that happens.”

“She’s already affected,” Carwyn snapped, his voice echoing in Mari’s head. “And you’re short handed as well. The whole business has been badly handled. That’s why I got assigned here. And it’s why we can’t delay.”

“Gryff will stay with Mrs Hewson,” Lord Maldwyn repeated. “Alyn and Leo can stay in the workshop. The workshop itself will be watched and warded and the Hobson brothers know to alert my security if anything seems out of place.”

Mari felt herself slipping away as she heard Carwyn’s voice. “How strongly warded?”

“Trust me, the wards will be extremely strong,” Lord Maldwyn answered.

*****

Mari found herself sliding slowly out of sleep. Her head still ached and she was stiff from sleeping in her clothes, but she was suddenly wide awake and chillingly aware that she was not alone, even though her eyes were still tightly closed. She tried to make sense of that feeling of a presence. It wasn’t Gryff or any of his brothers. It wasn’t Carwyn or even Lord Maldwyn. It felt more like a dark sense of danger stealing over her.

“I can tell that you’re awake,” a deep voice said.

Mari hunched down under the covers. “Who’s there?”

“You can call me Mesit, or you can call me sir, or master, if you prefer.” There was a rustle as he moved closer. “And your name is Mari Elys Hewson. You own this home and the workshop next to here and you are a recent widow. I know all about you, Mari Hewson, and you do not need to know about me.”

Mari forced her eyes open and pushed back the covers. “What do you want, Mr Mesit?” she said. The unnatural silence around the room seemed to echo in the night filled house. Where was Gryff? And would anyone be able to help?”

“Did you wash the clothes?” he asked.

Mari peered through the dimness of her room. “Why is everyone so obsessed with those bloody clothes?” Mari said. She pushed herself to her feet. “It’s just washing. I’ve got a washing machine. I’ve got the damned detergent. What is the problem?”

“Those clothes should not be washed in a machine,” Metis said softly. “They should be gently swirled in clean, warm water by a gentle maiden who can breathe in the scents.”

“I haven’t been a maiden for over fifty years,” Mari said tartly. “Now I’m going to ask you to leave before I call the police.” She felt behind her for the cricket bat that Toby had left behind for her. “Clear out!”

“I don’t think so,” Mesit said softly. “I can’t find any of those clothes in the house. But I know that you are the first of the mortals to touch them. That mark is on you. You know where they are, so you much fetch them.”

Mari strained through the darkness, bewildered and confused. Her hand brushed against the cricket bat handle and she grasped it with relief. “I said, get out!” She swung wildly and, against all the odds, it connected. Frantically Mari hit the light switch and swung again, blinking in the harsh light and stunned by the shape that fell back under the blow from the cricket bat. She was fighting a tall, cadaverous shape with black, shaggy hair and green, feral eyes. Fear flooded through her and for once it pushed her to fight. She swung again.

Mesit flinched against the light, but easily caught the cricket bat mid swing. His unnaturally slim fingers clenched around the wood, which splintered. “Don’t try me,” he hissed through elongated teeth.

Mari looked around desperately. “Get away!” There was a crash downstairs. “That’s the police!”

Mesit spun around. “I’ll deal with them,” he snarled, bounding through the door.

Mari grabbed the door frame. “Gryff! Gryff! Are you alright!”

Mesit leapt across the landing and over the bannisters with inhuman grace. “Maldwyn!” he roared.

Mari felt a surge of relief. At least some help was here. But where was Gryff? She tried to catch her breath as crashing and shouting echoed from downstairs. “Where’s Gryff?” she called as Carwyn raced up the stairs, closely followed by Alyn and Leo.

“Are you safe?” Carwyn asked, grabbing Mari by the shoulders and looking her over frantically. “Did he bite you?”

“Bite me?” Mari was bewildered. “I think that shock may have affected me, but I’m a little worried about…”

Alyn threw open the door to the spare room. “Gryff!” he yelled and raced in with Leo right behind him. “No!”

Lord Maldwyn ran up the stairs and followed Alyn into the spare room. “Stand back,” he said with authority. “Let me work on him.”

Mari slipped out of Carwyn’s grasp and hurried to the spare room. “What’s happened? Is Gryff hurt?” She peered over Lord Maldwyn’s shoulder as he leaned over the figure on the bed. It didn’t look like Gryff. It didn’t look like anything that Mari had ever seen. The shrunken misshapen figure was moaning slightly as blood oozed from a wound in its shoulder. Alyn stood at the head of the bed, wide eyed and barely keeping his composure as Leo knelt down and sobbed.

Carwyn put a hand on Mari’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But it’s complicated. That’s Gryff on there.”

Mari stared in confusion at the poor creature. Nothing made sense. “Is he badly hurt?” she whispered.

“He should be okay,” Carwyn said. “Goblins heal fast.” He looked far from convinced. “And Lord Maldwyn has a knack with healing. He should be fine.” He patted Mari’s shoulder. “He should definitely be fine.”