Chapter 12: Frost and Stone

"Wake up!" Pwyll said and shook her.

"What are-" his hand covered her mouth and blocked the rest of what she was going to shout at him.

"Shhhh," he said, "don't want to wake your parents."

She decided that if he was going to muzzle her that she'd bite him. She caught a bit of his flesh in her teeth and bore down.

"Please," he said, "I won't hurt you, but you can't scream."

Siobhan gave up trying to chew through his hand and nodded. He let go of her and she punched him in the gut, then kicked him over as he crouched in pain. The window was open and snow was drifting across the remains of her desk. She closed the window, then she closed the door.

"So," she said, "what is going on? Did you decide that one kiss meant you could climb into my room and take the rest of me?"

"That's the last thing I want," Pwyll said.

Siobhan felt her face form that expression, the one that had sent Riordan out of control.

"Really," she said.

"Look," he said, "I enjoyed the kiss and all, but it was just a kiss. There's a long path from a kiss on the road to a kiss between the sheets." He sat up and groaned softly. "It's something my grandfather used to say. I wish it was something my Ma had listened to, but that's not important."

"What is important enough to break into my room in the middle of the night?"

"The stone," Pwyll said, "do you still have it?"

"How do you know about the stone?"

"Do you still have it?"

"No, Riordan took it. How do you know about the stone?"

"Your aunt's letter," Pwyll pulled the crumple of papers from his pocket.

Siobhan snatched them and smoothed them out.

"That's mine!" she said, "You've been reading my mail?" She ignored whatever he was trying to say as an excuse and bent over the letter. It was too dark to see. Then a white glow illuminated the letter. Well, at least he was a little useful. As long as he holds the flashlight and keeps his mouth shut.

"Siobhan?" her door swung open and her father put his head into the room.

"It's Ok, Dad," she said, "I can explain."

"Not only the Whore of Babylon," he said, "but a witch." He stepped into the room and raised his hand to strike her.

"Not now," Siobhan said. "I don't have time for this, just go away and forget you ever saw me." A twinge ran from her shoulder to her hand and a spark jumped to strike her father's heart. He put his hand out in supplication, but then dropped it. He walked out of the room leaving the door open. She heard him go down the stairs and open the front door.

"What is he doing?"

"What you told him to do," Pwyll said. "Read the letter, it will explain."

"Where's the flashlight?"

"What flashlight?"

"The one you were shining on the letter for me."

"That wasn't me, Siobhan." He pointed at her hand.

There was a tiny star shaped scar where the little grey man had stabbed her. It shone with a soft white light.