This choice: Meanwhile back at home... • Go Back... Meanwhile, back at home, James Tanner stood in front of the fire place staring at the small painting of his late wife. Dead two years now, taken by who knew what. Rumour abounded that it was the beast in the forest but James wasn't so sure. They'd found no trace of his wife, of a struggle or anything that might indicate the wolf.
And deep down in his heart, where he went in his greatest need for peace, he was sure the wolf wasn't involved in Morgana's death. A vicious death hung around, like a sliver in a heart that couldn't heal. James didn't feel that; he just felt a void as if his wife had simply vanished.
They said she was dead because she'd never been found but James was sure he'd still feel something even in her death. There was nothing inside to connect him now, just the sense of her being missing. Sabrina was always going on about fairies and how her mother had been turned into one. James always pooh-poohed that nonsense, for Sabrina's sake. Other folk already looked at her slightly askew - they had before Morgana's death and they hadn't stopped.
It wasn't because James was raising her on his own, it was because Sabrina would happily tell her friends about her fairy mother or how she saw a fairy yesterday or two fairies the day before. Some of the townsfolk thought she wasn't quite right in the head, but - for god's sake - she was only a child. Children believed in fairies.
Sabrina believed in them more than most, which was the problem.
And James... well, behind his daughter's back he had a little bit of belief too. Maybe not quite to the point of believing Morgana was now a fairy, but he was aware of magical auras and a few charms and spells. For example, the brass bands criss-crossing the stiff wooden door carried an old charm that prevented witches from crossing the threshold. Witches hadn't been seen in years but the charm held strong (at least, he expected it did.)
And the black ring he wore on a leather thong around his neck kept him abreast of when anyone was nearing the house - magic or otherwise. The door knocker heralded visitors remarkably well but the ring would start to vibrate faintly whenever any one passed the fence boundary.
James sighed at the portrait. Sabrina carried her mother's beautiful features and dark hair, was going to be an absolute beauty when she hit her teens. As long as she'd stopped talking so much about fairies by then, she would probably make a wonderful love match with someone. He ran a finger over Morgana's hair as if he could run a finger through it like he used to. 'If you are out there, Morgana,' he whispered, 'please keep watch over her.'
A log collapsed in the fire, sending out a rush of heat and shower of sparks and ash. James' heart leapt and for a split second he saw that as a sign from his lost wife. Then he chuckled to himself, got down on his knees and sorted the fire out. The log had burned through and collapsed of its own accord.
When James straightened, he moved to the front door to double check the bolts were in place. The lock held no key but that hung safely on the hook just under the window latch. He didn't lock the door at night because the bolts were better strength in keeping the door closed. As he did most nights before he headed up to bed, he bent down and peered through the lock, down the path to the picket fence.
It glowed abnormally in the dark, until James realised that the glow came from an upper window and there was only one window on that side of the house.
She's probably reading still, James thought, and shook his head.
Sabrina read everything she could get her hands on, which James was very proud of, but not tonight. Sabrina had a big day dawning tomorrow and if she didn't get enough sleep tonight, tomorrow was going to be a disaster!
(699 words) 
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