Midsummer's Magic

Kerensa cringed a little at the mention of her title. She never wanted to be treated any different from the rest of the Piskie population. She even took steps to avoid being associated with the royal family. But she brushed it aside as she was, in fact, using that connection at that moment to save her friend. "As you are aware, the Stones have been calling for some time now." There were murmurs of agreement at her statement. "Yes I'm aware of that fact, and I have plans to address it," the queen replied. "Well, I think this is the ideal situation for Jory to prove what he can do. Let me go with him and help fulfil the Prophecy of Lost Souls." There was stunned silence for a few seconds followed by a low rumbling that eventually became a roar of laughter from the queen. "You expect me to trust him," she pointed a gnarled finger at Jory, "to bring together two lost souls before Midsummer's Eve? You do realise that the two people the Stones picked locked their hearts away, don't you? Both have sworn to never look for love." Jory scowled at her words because he was made a fool. But his face lightened slightly as Kerensa stepped towards him, took hold of one of his hands, and grasped gently. "I believe in him, and I know with my help he can do it." The queen sat in silence, her eyes moving between the two Piskies in front of her. Blowing out a breath, she slammed her hands on her knees. "Fine, why not? What's the worst that can happen?" She paused for a millisecond before adding, "No, don't answer that." Picking up her staff, she stood up stiffly and thumped it against the floor. "Jory an Gwyn and Kerensa an Gel, it is your duty to fulfil the Prophecy of the Stones and bring together these two lost souls by midnight of Midsummer's Eve. If you fail, not only will they never find love, but you will both be banished to live above ground forever."

Chapter 1

Beth slumped down onto a cardboard box full of books, the growl of the Removals Lorry fading into the background as it disappeared down the lane. She looked around at the chaos filling the living room of the small cottage and sighed, "Here we go again, why do I put myself through this time after time?" She ran a hand through her long red hair, sighed again and decided a cup of tea was in order. So she set about the task of finding not only the kettle but tea bags and ... "Shit! I forgot to pick up any milk." Resigned to a cup of black tea, possibly without sugar if she couldn't find the box she'd packed that in, Beth filled the kettle and wandered out the back door while she waited for it to boil.

Looking around at the overgrown garden, feeling the warmth of the sun on her shoulders, she watched butterflies flitting around the colourful flowers. (None of which she knew the name of or whether they were actual plants or weeds.) She started to feel the stress of the move begin to lift. She sat down on the small garden wall, raised her head closed her eyes and let her mind drift. She decided there was plenty of time to start unpacking later. She was home. Well at least for the time being, until what ever it was that made her itchy feet pick up and move on again. She never seemed to be able to settle anywhere for too long, maybe one, two years? Perhaps this time she could really settle, make a real home in this sleepy Cornish village, maybe...

The loud roar of a tractor in the lane, and then an incessant tooting of a horn abruptly cut her daydreams short. She jumped up and looked over the garden fence to the road below. There was the huge, red machine inches behind her Fiesta, and inside sat a large, dark haired man scowling in the cab. She opened the gate and ran down the path. Smiling she started to make apologetic noises that dried in her throat as he jumped out of the cab and roared at her. "What the fuck do you think you are doing parking in the middle of the lane?"

If he had not put her back up with his foul-mouthed tirade, she may have had time to notice how his lean muscular body was bursting from the open shirt roughly tucked into fading jeans that covered strong, long legs. She would have admired his square jaw and high cheekbones covered by skin tanned from years working outside, or the way he tossed his unruly dark hair away from his deep blue eyes with a flick of his head.