Storm Warrior (The Grim Series) Read Free Page A

only the rolling green hills and the silent ruins.

    Wales had plenty of large modern motels, but this tour featured smaller historic lodgings. Part of the tour group was booked into the Three Salmon Inn, and the rest, including Morgan and Gwen, in the smaller Cross Keys Hotel. Morgan thought the centuries-old building was charming and comfortable, but to Gwen it was downright exciting.
    “They have a ghost here, you know. Some say it’s a serving girl, and others say it’s a monk.”
    Morgan’s eyebrows went up as she perused the menu in the hotel dining room. “Isn’t there a big difference between the two?”
    “Well, a mysterious figure in a long gown could be either one, now couldn’t it? It says in the pamphlet that’s all that anyone has seen of it. I wish
I
could see it.”
    “You’d really like to see a ghost, wouldn’t you? Most people would run the other way.”
    “Most people would rather not have proof that other worlds exist,” said Gwen. “But I prefer to be open to all possibilities.”
    “My grandmother used to say something very similar.”
    Gwen smiled as if the remark pleased her immensely. “I think the roast beef sounds good, don’t you?”
    “Hmm? Oh, yes. I like those little Yorkshire puddings that come with it. Although I’ve never understood why they call them puddings—they’re much more like a crispy little bun.”
    The waiter collected their menus and their orders, and Gwen pulled a book from her handbag. “Look what I found in the gift shop here.”
    Morgan took the proffered book—
A Field Guide to the Ghosts of Wales
—and thumbed through it. The older woman had collected several paranormal writings along the tour and probably had enough to fill a suitcase by now. Morgan had never met anyone who was so enthralled by supernatural topics. Well, there
was
her veterinary partner Jay…He seemed to be enthralled with anything that was strange or unusual. She was certain she’d never get a word in edgewise if Jay and Gwen should ever meet.
    “Every single castle, hotel, pub, and crossroads we’ve seen so far has allegedly been haunted,” Morgan said. “I’m starting to wonder if the locals make up ghost stories on purpose to attract tourists.”
    Gwen laughed heartily, her voice like a cheerful cadence of bells. “Well, now, child, they’ve certainly attracted me!” Still chuckling, she took the book back and began reading a passage aloud.
    Morgan didn’t have to wonder what her Welsh grandmother would have said. Nainie Jones had been certain of the existence of spirits, just as she had firmly believed in the Tylwyth Teg, the Fair Ones. As a child, Morgan had listened for hours to her grandma’s faery stories, hanging on every word. Believing. But by the time Morgan reached her early teens, her belief had naturally faded. More than that, she’d discovered the fascinating world of science and already knew she wanted a career in veterinary medicine. She still loved to hear Nainie’s stories, of course, but had mentally filed them with Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. Her grandmother had sensed the change.
    “Some people don’t believe because they’re afraid to, or they believe and hope they’re never proved right. There are many things all around us that are old and powerful,” Nainie had explained one day. “Magics and mysterious realms, strange peoples not of this world. They’re not to be feared but to be respected, and it’s long been a gift in our family to know them. If you keep your heart and your mind open, one day
a leap of knowing
will come to you too.” Nainie had pulled the shiny silver necklace from inside her dress and looped the long, cool chain around her granddaughter’s neck. She pointed to the carved medallion with the smooth, polished stones surrounding it. “This has been in our family for generations, and it’s time it came to you. Keep it with you until your heart calls for it, my darling one. It’ll help you to have faith, and