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“So am I.” No matter what had happened between us or what I personally felt about her actions, she’d been family. Her death not only brought our direct line that much closer to extinction, but also ended any chance of us patching things up.

Mom would have wanted me to at leasttryto do that, even if a few years down the track, once the dust had settled.

Of course, Mom was something of an optimist at the best of times. My aunt, on the other hand, could definitely hold a grudge.

“I take it that’s not the reason you’re ringing though?” he said.

“No.” I quickly explained what we were intending. “We were wondering if—”

“Absolutely,” he said, without waiting for me to finish. “Where shall I meet you?”

I gave him the directions, and our conversation flowed easily onto more inconsequential stuff. We were still talking when Lugh finally arrived home, one small shopping bag in hand.

I bid Cynwrig goodnight and hung up. “No luck with caving gear?”

“Plenty of luck, but I couldn’t see the sense of hauling it all up here. It’s in the car.”

“Ah. Good idea.”

“I’m full of them today.”

I grinned. “Full of something, that’s for sure.”

He rolled his eyes and pushed a bottle of red at me. “Make yourself useful while I cook our dinner.”

I poured our wine and then sat on a kitchen stool while he fussed about in the kitchen. Aside from the steak and chips, he’d also bought eggs, which really topped off what was one of our favorite meals.

Once I’d done the dishes—it was an old rule in our house that the cook never cleaned up—he did some more research while I scrolled through the multitude of TV channels, looking for something to watch. I gave up at about nine and headed to bed.

And really wished I hadn’t been so pragmatic about conserving my strength for tomorrow. I had an unsettling feeling that the shit was well and truly about to hit the fan, and it would have been nice to have Cynwrig take me in his arms and tell me everything would be all right.

Even if we both knew the lie.

Trefil was located near the Brecon Beacons National Park and was reputedly one of the highest villages in the UK. Which meant, of course, it was damnably cold in winter, although at least there wasn’t a whole lot of snow on the ground at the moment. Maybe the bitter wind was sweeping it away.

The pub was a cute, white-washed building with a slate roof and a big old chimney on one side, behind which lay an obviously later extension. There was a small courtyard out the front that held six tables and a smattering of chairs. Cynwrig sat at one of them, a coffee mug in one hand and his phone in the other. At his feet lay several backpacks.

As we pulled up, he slid his long legs free from the bench seating, gathered his packs, and then walked over to the car.

After throwing his gear into the trunk, he climbed into the back seat. “Asked the proprietor about the cave. He said to stop at the roadside car park at the junction of B4560 and Llangattock mountain road, and head in from there. He also said the cave can be difficult to spot.”

Lugh nodded. “I have a map and a compass. We won’t get lost.”

That wasn’t in any way said in a boastful manner. Lugh had used a simple map and a compass most of his relic-hunting life, and his ability to navigate with them rather than relying on apps had gotten him out of several sticky situations.

The parking area wasn’t that far out of town and, once we’d all put on our weather gear and claimed our backpacks, we headed through the gate.

The moor was rough and wild, the fields dotted with lumps, bumps, and grasses. We came across the occasional memorial stone and some very old cairns, but for the most part, there was nothing but emptiness for as far as the eye could see. It was rather glorious.

We climbed steadily toward a rocky slope, eventually reaching the semi-domed entrance into the cave. The front of it was strewn with boulders and loose rocks, and the way appeared steep and rather wet. Once we’d donned our caving suits, Lugh handed us headlamps, and then, with a warning to be careful, led the way in.

I cautiously picked my way through to the entrance, then half slid down the narrow path leading into the main chamber. It was surprisingly large—at least a few dozen people could have fit in here—but despite the small pool of water gathering at its center, it wasn’t what we were looking for.Thatlay far deeper and would undoubtedly be far more dangerous to reach if the two narrow tunnels I could see were anything to go by.

Lugh glanced at Cynwrig. “I don’t suppose you can tell which one might be our target?”

Cynwrig smiled. “Well, you didn’t bring me here for my good looks now, did you?”

“I did,” I said lightly. “I might as well have a nice bit of ass to stare at as we’re crawling through creepy tunnels. Keeps the mind off the dangers involved.”