Free The Bwy Hir Complete Trilogy by Lowri Thomas

sketchbook.
    ‘Good god, Anwen, what is this?’ His finger pointed to the fanciful creature drawn at the bottom of the page. It was a tall, muscled black hound with penetrating eyes and pointy ears, its thick tongue protruding from its mouth, licking a sharp pointy fang.
    Anwen laughed . ‘Calm down dad, he’s just a drawing of my imagination. I think I’ll call him Gwyn.’ Her brother ignored her.
    ‘And this?’ He pointed to the sketch at the top the page. This drawing was much finer in detail, every feather illustrated to perfection, a gleaming beak and a beady eye almost jumped from the page.
    ‘It’s a raven ,’ Anwen pointed out mordantly, ‘can’t you tell a raven when you see one?’
    Dafydd shook his head as the telephone rang. He knew a raven when he saw one, he also knew a Helgi when he saw one too. Feeling rattled he grabbed the phone and pressed it to his ear. ‘Hello?’
    Once he’d hung up, he popped his head back into the living room . ‘Gwyn, give me a hand with the tea.’
    ‘Get Anwen to do it ,’ Gwyn whined.
    ‘ Anwen’s done enough today and I asked you.’
    Huffing and grumbling Gwyn followed his father to the kitchen. Anwen could hear her father’s muffled voice from where she sat. Gwyn’s in trouble, she thought. She heard the door to the front room open and for a moment her curiosity was piqued. The door was closed again so she resumed her sketching unbothered.
    All respectable homes in the valleys had a front room. No-one ever used it, it was there purely for show. This room held all the best furniture and all the best ornaments and fine china sitting on lace doilies, showed off in display cabinets and sideboards. All the front rooms throughout the valley were almost identical, right down to the oak framed full height mirror taking pride of place. Anwen presumed it was a long lost tradition, perhaps people used to receive a mirror as a wedding gift along with the other pieces of furniture and ornaments stuffed away in a redundant room at the front of the house. The room was hardly ever entered, not even for regular dusting, that’s what had piqued her curiosity.
    A few moments later they reappeared with a tray full of mugs, biscuits and a teapot. Gwyn had already put the milk and sugar in the mugs and was brandishing the teaspoon like a club.
    Passing Anwen a brimming mug Gwyn announced he was going to bed and took his mug with him. Dafydd picked up his book and continued reading.
    ‘Everything alright, Dad?’ she inquired suspiciously.
    ‘Course,’ he replied, ‘why wouldn’t it be?’
    ‘No reason.’ Anwen shrugged her shoulders. She half watched the television while she finished her tea, and feeling sleepy she decided it was her bedtime too. Giving her father a kiss on the top of his head, they wished each other goodnight and off she went, she was already sleeping soundly when Gwyn sneaked back downstairs ten minutes later.
    ‘It worked then?’ Gwyn smiled nervously as he sat down and rubbed the palms of his hands down the thighs of his jeans. Dafydd had explained the phone call to Gwyn while they were in the kitchen, slipping a small sleeping draught into Anwen’s tea as he spoke. Gwyn’s initiation was tonight.
    The moment seemed to take forever to arrive. Gwyn couldn’t keep still as h is father calmly read his book until the lights dimmed and the television lost power and turned black.
    Gwyn nearly jumped out of his seat . ‘Dad?’ his voice whispered in panic.
    ‘Calm down, Gwyn .’ His father’s voice was low. ‘Remember what you’ve learned. Now find your backbone boy, and follow me.’ The door to the front room opened to reveal the shadowy form of a Druid. Silently he led Gwyn and Dafydd out of the house and into the yard.
    They walked shoulder to shoulder behind the Druid to meet the group of hooded figures gathered in the yard with only moonlight to guide their way. Gwyn was shaking and breathing fast, his father battling down an urge to grab