Page 18 of Lady Elinor’s Elf

Unfortunately, Elinor found herself swept up in the confusion caused by the return of her parents, leaving no time at all for her to continue her investigations into the paper.

Of course there were so many boxes to be unpacked, souvenirs to be admired, and one or two gifts that both touched and pleased her.

“Oh, Mama,” she breathed, as she opened the velvet box and stared open-mouthed at the glorious necklace lying inside.

“It’s quite lovely, isn’t it? As soon as your Papa saw it in the window of a jeweller in Vienna, he said it was made for you.”

Elinor stared at the delicate gold setting, so fine as to look almost like thread, and the magnificent bluish green jewels that made up the petals of the flowers trapped within the golden web. “What are these?” she asked, tapping one with her forefinger.

“Diamonds, darling,” replied her mother. “Quite rare, I’m told.”

“Diamonds? Good God…” she nearly dropped the case. “I…I don’t know what to say…”

“Your father told everyone that they are the colour of your eyes, Elinor. He was quite delighted to have found them.”

Elinor sucked in a ragged breath. “Where is he, Mama? I must go and thank him immediately.”

Lady Molliney grinned. “Well, he’s not unpacking his suitcases, so…”

“He’s in the stable?”

“Good guess.”

A good portion of the rest of Elinor’s morning was spent in the stables with her father, trying to thank him for his wonderful gift, but realising she didn’t have all of his attention, since there were several of his favourite horses eager to welcome him home.

“’Tis only a gewgaw, my dear.” He brushed her words aside .

“No, it’s not, Papa.” She stopped him. “It’s something very precious that I will treasure for the rest of my life.”

Lord Molliney shot his daughter a quick glance. “Well, I suppose it’ll make a nice piece to pass along to a daughter,” he said thoughtfully.

“Er…” Elinor fought for composure. “I’m sure it will, should that ever happen.”

Her father took pity on her and hugged her. “I’m happy you like it, dear girl, and I know it will look exquisite on you when you wear it. Give the old busybodies something to gossip about, eh?”

“Yes, Papa. Without a doubt.” She hugged him again. “I love it. Thank you again. And now I’ll leave you to your other family…” she smiled at the horses, who were watching patiently.

“That’s my girl,” he replied, nodding at her. “Off you go now. If you see your mother with her head out of her wardrobe, tell her I’ll be in soon.”

Nodding, Elinor walked out into the sunshine, blinking as the light hit her, and remembering it had been quite some time since there’d been a sky this clear of clouds.

The air smelled clean and fresh, the flowerbeds were blooming, and the gardens beckoned.

It was not a hard decision; a walk would be just the thing for Elinor and give her the chance to reorganise her thoughts.

It was hard to dwell on strange mysteries when one was sorting fans, matching gloves, or advising on which gown was too passé and should be discarded.

Her Mama had returned with a lot of garments from Europe, where fashions were always changing, and being married to a diplomat meant that a level of style and elegance had to be maintained.

Elinor offered up thanks that she was not part of that life. She much preferred this…the soft grass beneath her feet, the sun warming her shoulders, and the birds singing their little heads off.

She realised her steps were taking her to the glade, and perhaps there was a good reason for it. Caleb’s tale of the Tylwyth Teg had stayed with her, and it was natural to think of Bronwen, a Tylwyth Teg herself. Had her people really been treated so horribly?

Reaching the familiar chestnut tree, she drew comfort from sitting beneath it and simply breathing for a bit.

“Hullo, Anwyll . I haven’t seen you very much recently.”

“Bronwen,” laughed Elinor. “I am so happy you’re here. Come sit with me a while. I have so much to relate…”

It must have taken at least half an hour for the two to share their news with each other, and as that conversation wound down, Elinor gently asked Bronwen about the story of Tylwyth Teg.

The elf’s face grew sad, and she glanced away for a moment or two, then turned back to her friend.

“’Tis all true, Elinor,” she sighed. “It happened so very many of your years ago now, of course. And the generations have passed for us as well as mortals. But the core of the tale is real.” Her voice became a whisper. “We try not to even mention the Coblynau, lest we attract their attention.”

“They’re still here?” Elinor’s eyes grew wide at the thought.

“I hope not,” answered Bronwen. “And honestly, they may well be just legends from our past now. But there is truth in the fact that we were driven out of Tylwyth Teg all those centuries ago. And that is a dark and ugly stain on our past.”

“Could you not return? Now that the ground is safe and secure?”

Bronwen sighed. “There are still many who would. I am amongst them, to tell the truth.” She touched Elinor’s arm. “And partly because of you, my friend. I would love to live so near to you.”

“But?”

“But our dwellings beneath the ground were sealed by the…you-know-who. They cast a heavy and dark spell when they left, and nobody has been able to break it.” She sighed. “Eventually we stopped trying, since failure often meant death.”

“Oh no,” Elinor frowned. “That is truly terrible.”

“I know, but…” Bronwen spread her hands, her long and elegant fingers expressing her helplessness.

“There must be a way. Is there nothing to be done?”

“It is unlikely…time has passed, and our powers have changed. Our spells are very different from those of that time.”

Silence fell, and for a few minutes both were silent.

Then Elinor leant back against the tree trunk, and a slight crackle from her pocket reminded her of the paper she’d tucked away there, fully intending to look at it more closely.

Hoping it would distract Bronwen from the sad tales of the past, she made a decision.

“Bronwen,” she said, pulling it out and unfolding it. “I have a mystery here from a strange book that we found in Caleb’s library.”

“Caleb?” Bronwen’s eyebrows rose, and she grinned. “That’s quite informal, isn’t it? My, my.”

“Stop whatever it is you’re thinking.” Elinor fought a blush. “What I want to show you is this…”

She smoothed out the paper and rested it in her lap, watching as her elfin friend pushed her blonde hair away from her face and leant over.

“I think the first words may be some kind of Latin, but the rest? It’s a language I don’t recognise.

I intend to spend time in our library soon and see if I can find some way of translating it, but I thought you might like to see it, since it fell from that book.

Which happened to be glowing at the time. ”

“Truly?” Bronwen flashed a surprised look at Elinor, then returned to her study. Silence fell for a few minutes, then she looked up, her face as serious as her friend had ever seen it.

“This is…this is astounding, Elinor. Truly astounding.”

“It is? How? Why…”

“Firstly, there’s this…” She tapped the illustrated crest that decorated the first page. Flowers and vines surrounding what had been drawn to look like a shield. Ryhddid a Adref . I think it means Freedom and Home .”

“You know, it could be the Howell motto or something, perhaps. I’m almost positive I have seen a carving like it here somewhere at Tylwyth Teg.”

Bronwen stopped her with a raised hand and a very serious look. “If I’m correct, this is something that has not been seen for a very long time.” She pointed at a word. “See this word here? Celata ?”

Elinor grimaced. “Yes, I know, it’s…”

“It means secret , Elinor. In your Latin.”

“Really?”

“Yes indeed. It’s a word my people have used a lot over the years, as you can imagine.”

“Um….” Elinor’s mind reeled as she considered the implications. Celata was the Latin word for secret. Lady Secret .

Of course—that would be a perfect pen name, and was probably why the author had chosen it.

She sighed, realising that the word had nothing to do with those books at all, except for being chosen to hide the identity of the writer. It was sheer coincidence. Heaving a sigh of relief, she looked at Bronwen, who was now holding the paper cautiously with both hands.

“Here. Look.” Her finger traced a few strange symbols. “ Elthun en domos . The words are Elvish.”

Elinor’s skin chilled as the very air around them fell silent, as if holding its breath.

Bronwen’s eyes met hers. “It means Here is Home , in our language.”

“I don’t see how…”

The elf raised her head, the look in her eyes freezing Elinor into stillness. “You have it here. This is the secret. The first step…” Her eyes were filling with tears. “This will tell you…”

Deeply concerned now, Elinor reached out to touch Bronwen’s shoulder. “What, dear friend? What will it tell me?”

“How to return the Tylwyth Teg to their rightful home.”

*~~*~~*

Caleb, strolling outside in the sunshine with Carrádog, was quite surprised to see a horse and rider galloping up his drive, and nearly skidding to a halt.

He was even more surprised when he realised that it was Elinor who had been riding ventre à terre to his front door.

Something must be wrong.

The two of them ran to where she had pulled up, and was sliding out of her saddle to the ground.

“Elinor, what is it? Are you all right?”

Frantic, Caleb nearly tripped over the dog in his hurry to reach her, but thankfully he saw no blood or broken bones.

“I’m fine. Really. More than fine, actually. Oh, Caleb, I have such news …”

“Well, it must be something really exciting to bring you here in such a hurry,” he glanced around, “and with no groom in sight.”

“Don’t scold me. Not about this. It’s too important.” She glanced down to where a black furry face was woofing at her, quite insistently. “Yes, Carrádog. I know. You’re a good boy, but I don’t have time to play now…”

“He’s not playing, I don’t think,” frowned Caleb, shooting a worried look at the dog. “Elinor, what is going on?”

She grabbed his arm. “We must go to your library and that book. At once, Caleb. It is really, really important. I cannot tell you how important.”

“All right then. Let’s go.”

They hurried across the lawns, surprising Deryn, who was walking past the French windows as they rushed inside.

“Good heavens, Lady Elinor…is all well?” He glanced at Caleb.

“Don’t look at me. I haven’t a clue. But you might send a message to Molliney Park that she’s here? I’ll wager she took off in such a hurry she forgot to tell anyone.”

“Very good sir,” then he turned. “What shall I say, sir?”

Elinor and Caleb were halfway through the other door. “Whatever you think works, Deryn.”

“Hurry,” Elinor still had hold of his coat.

“Look, the book is still there. I checked this morning.” He almost missed a step, but caught himself up and just managed to avoid crashing into her as she stopped in front of the library door.

“That’s good, Caleb. Very good. Because it’s the most important book in your library.” She dragged him inside and shut the door behind him.

“Elinor, what the devil is this all about?”

She took a breath. “It’s about Tylwyth Teg, Caleb. It’s about the hundreds of years it has lain sealed and empty right beneath this house.”

Caleb frowned. “Dear girl, you can’t know that?

There has been much construction, walls built and toppled, designs changed…

it must be close to a thousand years since that story was told.

And besides,” he tugged her down onto the couch beside him, “it’s a legend, darling.

A tale told by parents to children. Did it have any basis in truth? Probably. But even so…”

She nodded. “I understand all that, Caleb. I really do. But just think for a moment. What if it was true? What if that community, all the homes that the Tylwyth Teg used to live in, play in, govern from…their entire world, I suppose…what if it was real? And still there, right now, beneath our feet?”

“I’d be astonished,” he replied mildly. “At the very least, I’d be astonished…”

“All right then.” Elinor produced the piece of paper he’d looked for. “Yes, I had it. I was curious, as you know, and wondered if this might be some sort of clue or note or something to the mystery of the book.”

“A fair question.”

Caleb’s skin was beginning to tingle. Elinor was so sincere, so believable, so convincing. He wasn’t as sure, but knowing her honesty, he stayed still and listened intently.

She took a breath. “I recognised the first words—they were in Latin. Libertas Est Omnia . And I’ll come back to those in a minute. Unfortunately, I had no luck with the rest of it, though, until in desperation I showed it to Bronwen. You remember her…”

“Your elf friend?”

She nodded. “Yes. We talked about the story of Tylwyth Teg.” She leant forward and put her hand on his knee. “It was real, Caleb. According to Bronwen, everything you told me about actually happened.”

He blinked. Carrádog made an odd whining sound and laid his head on Caleb’s knee, staring at Elinor, just like his master.

“It actually happened?”

“That’s what I was told.”

Caleb swallowed. “By an elf.”

“Who better to tell the tale?”

He didn’t need to interpret Carrádog’s soft woof. “Yes, lad, she does have a point.”