The Dream Weavers by Barbara Erskine (books you have to read txt) 📕

a bend of the River Vyrnwy. There was no sign of Emma there and no one to ask. Simon had found the castle on his phone. ‘This is the wrong date. After our period.’ He sat down on a fallen tree. ‘Who are we kidding? She could be anywhere. Why didn’t she wait for us by the pillar? She asked us to go there!’

‘Your expert from Cadw said there was a second castle round here, Simon.’ Bea put her hand on his shoulder. ‘Let’s go and find the other one. We can’t give up yet.’

The Mathrafal Castle they wanted, the seat of the ancient kings of Powys, had originated as another Iron Age fort, this one in the centre of a wood only minutes away from the first, but it too was deserted. Without any idea of where to go next, they retreated to the nearest village. Meifod was only a mile away and it was there, outside the church, that at last they met someone who had seen Emma. The woman had greeted them with a smile as they made their way towards the church door. She was middle-aged, wearing a tweed skirt and waterproof jacket, a pair of secateurs in her hand, gardening gloves tucked under her arm.

‘It was early this morning,’ she said as Simon showed her the photo. ‘She told me she had walked all the way from Llangollen yesterday. She spent the night at a B & B on the outskirts of the village. She said she came here because it was the burial place of the ancient kings.’ She looked from Simon to Bea anxiously. ‘It never occurred to me there was anything wrong. She seemed fine: confident, a bit intense perhaps, but not unhappy.’

‘Where is she now?’ Simon’s mouth had gone dry.

‘I don’t know. She asked me if I knew where the burial place was. To be honest, I don’t know much about it. She went into the church to look for a guidebook, and I went home. She had gone when I came back after lunch. Look,’ she felt in her pocket for a notebook, ‘I’ll give you the number of the B & B where she was staying. It belongs to a friend of mine. It might be worth you speaking to her. Your daughter might have told her where she was headed. I’m so sorry I can’t help any more. I hope you find her.’

As the woman left them to themselves, they stood by the door of the church, helplessly staring round. ‘I’ve found something about this church.’ Simon was staring at the phone in his hand. ‘It was an ancient ecclesiastical centre, a clas, founded by a saint in the sixth century, and is traditionally the burial place of the kings whose seat was at Mathrafal,’ he looked up triumphantly.

‘So, is this the place where she saw Elisedd in her dream,’ Bea murmured. ‘He was an abbot here. Although she said there was a river nearby.’

‘There seems to be a stream down here.’ Simon wandered off the path a little way. ‘And the river can’t be far. Oh Bea. What are we going to do? Where is she?’

‘Simon, we’ve so nearly found her and we know she’s safe.’ She tried to reassure him. ‘She’s being sensible and her detective work seems to be pretty good. Why don’t you ring that number?’

Ten minutes later they were parked in the driveway of the B & B. The owner appeared at the door. ‘I was bit surprised she was on her own, I must admit; she seemed so young, but she was very composed and we get so many walkers up here, I didn’t think it suspicious.’ She seemed anxious. ‘I asked her to have supper with us as she was on her own and she chatted quite normally. She told us her brother was doing his exams and she was on a trip to research some material for her degree.’

Simon snorted. ‘Degree! She’s seventeen!’

‘I didn’t ask her age.’ The woman stood her ground. ‘She talked about her research and my husband got some local history books out for her to look at. She was going up to the church today to see the burial ground. It’s huge, with some lovely old trees, and there’s an ancient cross which is now inside the church.’

‘Did she say where she was going after she had been there?’

‘Mathrafal. It’s only up the road. We told her there was nothing to see.’

‘We’ve already checked there,’ Simon said despondently.

‘Is there any chance she said she was coming back here tonight?’ Bea put in.

‘I’m afraid not. She didn’t say where she was going after that. I hope you find her.’ Her last words echoed those of her neighbour.

‘At least she’s safe, we know where she is and we know what she’s doing,’ Bea said as they climbed back into the car. She’s being sensible and staying in proper accommodation. You’d better ring Val again, Simon. She’ll be going out of her mind back in London.’

‘And she’ll come rushing up here or tell the police.’

‘Then you must reassure her. See if you can persuade her to stay with Felix. After all, he needs her too.’ She engaged gear and headed back down the gravel drive. ‘Now, I’m driving back to the church. I’m going to have a go at connecting with her. See if I can learn anything that way. I have tried, but ironically I’ve trained her too well. She’s protecting herself, but you never know, in the church she might have let her guard down a bit. It’s worth a try. Why don’t you go into the pub and get us both a drink and a sandwich and I’ll join you there.’

The girl was open, easy prey. Sandra smiled as she sat with the cards before her on the table.

‘Emma? Can you see me? I’ve come to find you. Where are you?’

Closing her eyes, Sandra emptied her mind, allowing the scene to appear. It was wild country,