Chapter One

Will drove along the familiar road with the towering mountains of Wales all around him. There was a light dusting of snow on the higher peaks but lower down everything just looked damp and dull in the grey December light. Slowing down Will stopped by a wall, beyond which stood a shepherd's cottage tumbling into ruins. Leaning on the steering wheel Will gazed at it, images flitting across his mind. Some of these were memories, but as an Old One Will knew that others were images of things that had happened before he came into his power as an Old One on his eleventh birthday. A drenched woman carrying a baby, the door of the cottage being opened by an ordinary looking Welshman. The same woman fleeing the cottage with empty arms, tears streaming down her cheeks. The Welshman holding the baby, a child devoid of colour apart from eyes that were the same tawny gold as an owl's. The same child on the cusp of adolescence, a silver-eyed white collie at his heels. Will sighed, he could never think of Bran as a child without Cafall by his side. On impulse he got out of the car and made his way through a gap in the wall which had once been covered by a gate. Leaning against the doorpost Will looked at the rubbish of years covering the floor of the cottage. His eye was caught by the white gleam of a piece of quartz in one corner of the room. Crossing the room, he picked it up and studied it. "The last time I saw you I was a boy of eleven and you were a warestone," he said, aloud, "Now the Brenin Llwyd is long defeated, and the great Lords of the Dark are beyond time. The Old Ones may have retreated to the land at the back of the North Wind, but they have left their Watchman to guard the land against the agents of the Dark who are still trying to overpower the Light to take control of the world," he tossed the stone into a heap of rubble and turned back to his car. He looked at the cottage again, "I may be the only one of the Old Ones left," he said to the blank façade, "But I have strong allies of my own," With that he turned the engine on and carried on down the road. He was on his way to spend Christmas with Bran and Jane Davies who lived on Clwyd farm; owned by Will's uncle, David Evans, though it was now run by his son, Will's cousin Rhys. Bran's music and Jane's jewellery design for film and TV involved travel and extended periods away from home and they both felt that their children stood a better chance of a normal life with a stable background and settled schooling. Bran had been brought up on the farm and had a strong pull to the land and, though Jane was born and bred in London, she too preferred Clwyd, near Cader Idris, where she and Bran had first met when they were both twelve years old, thanks to their mutual friend, Will Stanton.

The three of them had been through so much together, along with Jane's brothers Simon and Barney. Events that had had a lasting effect on their lives. Events that they could never discuss or explain to anybody else. Though the five of them had a close bond, it was tighter between Jane, Bran and Will. Will and Bran shared a unique connection and had done so since they first met as children. The devotion that Jane and Bran shared went deeper than ordinary human love, it was a joining that had been foretold from the time the Light and the Dark had first come into being. Because of these ties Jane and Will had developed a relationship like that of the closest siblings. Though Jane would never tell Simon or Barney, she was more likely to go to Will with her troubles than either of her brothers. Will usually loved his visits to Clwyd, but this time he was feeling apprehensive. There was something that he needed to do, something that involved a very big ask from Jane and Bran and, knowing Jane's protective nature and Bran's sense of right that was even stronger than Jane's, he wasn't looking forward to having to ask it of them.

As he approached the farm Will could see two figures hanging over the gate. He waved as he recognised the two eldest Davies children; Gwen and Morgan. Twins: they had inherited their mother's rich chestnut hair and their father's facial features and tawny gold eyes but that was as far as the resemblance between them went. Gwen, her long hair in a neat plait, was dressed in spotless jeans and jumper, looking as if she had just stepped out of the bath. Morgan, on the other hand looked as if she (and, Will reflected, she probably had) been rolling in the mud and her hair hung in unruly tangles over her eyes. He parked the car next to the house on the far side of the farmyard and had barely switched off the engine when the door was yanked open and two excited twelve-year-olds, both talking at once, began to tell him all their news. "Hey, one at a time," laughed Will, getting out of the car. Barely pausing for breath, they moderated their excitement to speak one at a time.

"You've been ages, Uncle Will," said Morgan, reproachfully.

"Is everything okay?" asked Gwen, anxiously.

"The motorway was a nightmare," replied Will, wondering why Gwen's expression gave him such a jolt, "I thought I was going to have to abandon the car and walk!"

Gwen returned his smile and took hold of his hand, "It's your birthday tomorrow" she said, enthusiasm returning to her tones.

Morgan grabbed his other hand, "We've been making plans," she added, "They're a secret though so you'll have to wait until tomorrow!"

Bouncing at the thought of their secret plans the twins pulled him towards the door which led straight into the warm farmhouse kitchen. "Mam! Uncle Will's here!" shrieked Morgan.

"Mam, where are you? Mam!" Gwen's volume was only slightly less than her sister's.

Morgan clucked with annoyance, "She knows Uncle Will was coming today,"

"Maybe she can't hear us?" suggested Gwen.

A fair-haired eight-year-old was seated at the kitchen table, writing something carefully, the tip of his tongue sticking out in concentration. He looked up. "I should think they can hear you halfway to Aberdyfi!" he said, placidly, "Mam's at Uncle John Rowland's house. Hello, Uncle Will, have a sit down and I'll make you a cup of tea,"

"Hello Tal," Will ruffled the hair of his youngest nephew, who looked more like his Uncle Barney than either of his parents; it was a standing joke within the family, "Gareth is out with Taid," said Taliesin, as he filled the kettle at the sink, "and Da is practicing upstairs. I'll get him,"

Tal went to the door leading into the house, opened it and yelled at full pitch of healthy lungs, "Da! Uncle Will's here!"

"Da's not deaf, Taliesin, I'm sure he would hear you if you called normally," said Gwen, very much the elder sister and conveniently forgetting her own shrieks of minutes before.

Tal scowled, "You need talk, Gwenhwyfar, you came in screeching like a banshee!" he said, "He might not hear if he's in the middle of a piece,"

"Luckily for all our ears Da did hear," Bran came into the room at this point. "And if you hadn't been so busy making sure that Will's mother could also hear you in Buckinghamshire, then you would have heard me reply! Hello, Will bach, when did you arrive?"

"About two minutes ago," replied Will, greeting Bran warmly, "How are you doing?"

"I'm well," Bran half turned and raised an eyebrow at his daughters, "Dare I ask, Morgan cyw?"

Morgan looked sheepish, "I overbalanced when I was walking along the top of the hedge," she admitted, then looked hopeful, "but I didn't hurt myself!"

"Well, that's something, I suppose. Go and get changed," Morgan shot off, thankful to have escaped a scolding, "and brush your hair," called Bran, as she thumped up the stairs followed by the other two. Will hid a smile. It was a phrase he heard several times a day whenever he was with the Davies family. Bran switched the kettle off and asked "D'you fancy a beer instead?"

Will agreed and watched as Bran opened two bottles. Like Will he did not look his age; new acquaintances were often surprised to hear that he had been in his late twenties when his eldest two were born. They hadn't seen one another for almost a year and were busy catching up when the back door burst open and Jane came in, a red and white collie pushing past her, wagging its tail at Will. "Will!" cried Jane, hugging him, "I thought it was your car outside. How are you?"

"Oh, you know, same old Will," replied Will, fondling the dog's ears, "Hello, Meg." They were old friends too.

Jane dropped a kiss on Bran's white head and went to fill the dog's water bowl, Will let their domestic chit chat flow over him, feeling contented. This was one of the few places that he felt that he could truly be himself and he decided to put his worries to the back of his mind for now and just enjoy his holiday.

Jane rested a hand on Will's shoulder, "Are you okay, Will?" she asked, anxiously. With a start Will realised that he had seen the same motherly concern in Gwen's expression barely half an hour before. Jane had always been the one in the Six that was the most sensitive to the feelings of others, but Will hadn't expected to see that same concern in her daughter. He remembered Gwen as only slightly less harum scarum as Morgan in spite of her natural ability to stay neat and clean, while Morgan usually looked as if she had been dragged through a hedge backwards.

Realising that Jane was waiting for an answer, Will smiled up at her, "I'm fine, just glad to be here," he said, "It's been a tough couple of months at work, I've barely stayed in one place for more than a few days,"

"Are you sure? You can stay as long as you need to here, you know that."

"I know, Jane, thank you. I'm sure you'll think I'm mad when I say this, but I find being in the middle of your family more relaxing than anything I know,"

Before Jane could reply, the door opened again and ten-year-old Gareth came in, accompanied by a handsome merle Welsh collie. This dog was barely out of puppyhood, and he leapt up excitedly at Will. "Lleu, get down. Sit!" said Gareth, sternly in Welsh, and the dog dropped to the floor, looking at Gareth with his tongue hanging out. Will thought he looked as if he were laughing. Gareth rubbed the dog's head, "Good boy," he said, in English this time, "Da, Lleu is getting better,"

"You're doing a good job with him, son," said Bran, smiling, "How was he with the sheep,"

"Okay, better than last week. Tain said he might turn out to be a good sheepdog after all," Gareth turned to Will and threw his arms around him affectionately, "Hello, Uncle Will. I'm starting to train my own dog, see. He's getting good now,"

"He looks a very clever dog," agreed Will, returning the hug. Sitting on a kitchen chair Gareth began to take off his coat and boots, "Mam, Tain says to remind you that he's going to Uncle John Rowlands for tea tonight. I did tell him that it was okay for them both to come here but he said there were enough extra people with Uncle Will coming today and he would come tomorrow,"

"Thank you for the reminder, Gareth, I had forgotten," said Jane.

"What I don't understand, Mam," said Gareth, "Why is there too many people here tonight when there will be the same amount of people here tomorrow?"

"It's a long drive from London, darling," said Jane, "Maybe Tain thinks that Uncle Will would prefer to see him tomorrow after he's had a rest,"

"You mean," Gareth fixed his mother with a look that reminded Will of Jane at a similar age, "Tain thinks it would be unsuitable to be here when you and Da and Uncle Will are all gossiping about things,"

"Well, there is that as well," said Jane, rather feebly.

Bran chuckled, "You're so sharp you'll cut yourself one day, boyo,"

"No I'm not, I just think people should say what they mean, that's all," Gareth stood up, "May I go and play on my PlayStation please?"

"Just for half an hour, tea won't be long,"

Will grinned at Jane, "Gareth is you all over again!" he said, "I seem to remember you demanding that we all stopped edging round the subject of the Dark and say things as they are!"

"Oh, shush you, Will Stanton!" laughed Jane, giving him a friendly punch, "You knew I was right!"

Will leaned his elbows on the table, "It's a shame that Simon and Barney aren't here. How long is it since we were all together?"

"We did ask them," said Bran, "but Simon is spending Christmas with his in-laws and Barney said that Sam only had Christmas Day off so it wouldn't be worth coming,"

Jane looked thoughtful, "It must be eight years," she said, in response to Will's question, "I'd just had Tal, and Barney had just got together with Sam,"

"Tal was a baby; I didn't think it was as long as that! Where does time go? How long have you two been married then?"

"Fifteen long years," replied Bran, gloomily, with a wink at his wife. Jane grinned back at him, "I deserve a medal!" she replied, teasingly. Will caught the look that Jane and Bran gave one another and swallowed. He had deliberately stayed away from close relationships, apart from family and the other members of the Six, as he felt that he couldn't bear to get close to somebody and then lose them while he grew no older. Usually, it didn't bother him but when he saw the closeness of such bonds it made him feel a little lonely. As if he understood Will's feelings, Bran got to his feet, "Well, all this reminiscing won't get things done. Shall I help you bring your things in, Will bach?"

"Oh, yes please, if you don't mind. As Simon and Barney aren't here, I'll have to take the role of favourite uncle, and to help with that I do have a few little Christmas presents in the boot. Shall I leave them there or is there somewhere I can hide them?"

The two of them left the warm, bright kitchen and Jane took the opportunity to run upstairs to check that the spare room was all ready for Will. She interrupted Morgan and Tal making Will an apple pie bed, but their horrified expressions soon turned to ones of joy as she gave them a mischievous grin and held a finger to her lips before she left them to it.