Betrayals (Cainsville 4)

"Thank you. In the meantime, I know enough about the samhail for now, so instead I want to cash in my research chit and look up Cwn Annwn bargains."

"You have a chit?"

"You said I was free to use your books to research samhail. Instead, I want to know more about Cwn Annwn deals. How do people get them? What kind do they offer? Why do they offer them?"

"Bargains with Cwn Annwn are rare, but not unheard of. When you came to me about your parents' deal, I did some preliminary research, which you didn't end up needing. It does make for entertaining reading, though."

"Not if you're the subject of one of those deals."

"Which you can't really regret, under the circumstances."

"Um, mother turned murderer? Father in jail twenty years for crimes he didn't commit? Yeah, I can regret it."

"Despite the fact your adopted family gave you every advantage? Love plus money? It doesn't get better than that."

"My birth parents might disagree. And if they hadn't done the deal? I wouldn't be Matilda, which would have saved me a whole lotta grief."

"Grief, perhaps. Excitement, definitely. Your life, Liv, will be nothing if not interesting. To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all. Also, there is no guarantee that a disability would have lessened the interest in you as Matilda." He turned to Gabriel. "You recognize the sacrifice her parents made to provide her with the life she has. Imperfect but wondrous."

"And dangerous," Gabriel said. "I could live without that part."

"Without that, her life would not be nearly as much fun for her. Cwn Annwn live for the adrenaline rush. We all do, in our way."

"Which takes us back on topic," I said. "Cwn Annwn and deals."

He waved at the bookshelf. "I suppose you'd like that route. It gets the adrenaline racing more than dry explanation." He glanced at Gabriel. "Liv prefers a life fully lived. Fully experienced. That's the lesson she's teaching you, and I'm glad to see you're such an apt pupil." When Gabriel gave him a look of complete incomprehension, Patrick only sighed and waved his hand. "As long as you take the lessons to heart, you don't need to recite them. Do I dare ask if you want to read one of my books?"

"What?" Gabriel's composure and formality fell away in almost comical surprise.

"That would be a no," Patrick said. "Liv dives in. You still need to test the waters. Ah well, it's a start."

Patrick handed me a book that was newer than most on the shelf. I've done enough work with Victorian original texts to recognize the binding style. It was a cloth cover, embossed in gold, simpler than many of the books I've worked with, with only a Celtic moon on the front.

It felt oddly light for the size. When I opened the cover, I saw why. Entire sheaves of pages were missing and others were burned, as if someone had set fire to the book.

"It's in rough shape," Patrick said. "That's the problem with handwritten texts. I can't just run out and replace it. That is one of a kind."

I flipped through it. The pages that had been removed had been done so surgically. Even on some undamaged ones, entire paragraphs had been blacked out.

"Redacted material?" I said.

"Apparently."

I lifted the book to examine it more closely. "It was intentionally mutilated, then."

"So it seems. My theory is that the owners really would have liked to destroy it before it got into the wrong hands, but they couldn't quite bring themselves to obliterate decades of work. The fire damage suggests one owner even got so far as to toss it into the fire before changing his mind."

"Dark, arcane knowledge?" I said. "Unfit for the hands of fae or mortal?"

Patrick chuckled. "I wish. No, the contents are much more prosaic."

Before he could continue, I began skimming, picking up what Welsh I knew. Two words, repeated many times, made it very clear what this was.

"It's a history of the Cwn Annwn," I said.

"Yes."

Patrick sat beside me, nudging Gabriel away, which was rather like nudging a stone block. He got a cool look for his efforts and, with a sigh, Patrick pulled up the ottoman and perched on it instead. Then he reached over and flipped through pages while the book lay on my lap.