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Bob, however, was openly crying. I thought for a moment that he was going to throw himself on the coffin and weep, but luckily he managed to restrain himself at the last moment. He stroked the oak lid and whispered something before returning to his own seat, where Aveta gently patted his knee and murmured something to him. If they were words of comfort they didn’t seem to work, as his shoulders shook, and he buried his face in a large, white handkerchief.
‘He was very fond of Zephyr,’ Iliana explained from the bench in front of me, dabbing at her own eyes with a lace hanky. ‘This is all very upsetting.’
With that, the soaring, melancholy music of the merfolk began, just as it had at Meri’s funeral. Keely squeezed my hand and I put my arm around her, seeing the distress in her face. Anyone who hadn’t been moved before that moment couldn’t fail to be now. There was something so completely gut-wrenching, and yet so stunningly beautiful about that song, no one could remain untouched. People openly wept. Even the mighty O’Briens were clearly overcome with emotion.
It had only been a couple of weeks since we were all here celebrating the wedding of Harley and Killian. It had been such a joyous occasion. None of us could have foreseen what lay ahead.
I hastily wiped my own eyes, thinking of Zephyr, and the price he’d paid to protect my sister. I couldn’t cry. The Great Guardian had to be strong. A leader. I forced myself to remain stony-faced. I had to get through this and prove I was fit to wield the Sword of Feidhlim. So much depended on me.
The song of the merfolk finally died away and all around me people struggled to compose themselves. Well, all except Bob, who blew his nose with such force it’s a wonder he didn’t put a hole in his handkerchief.
Aveta seemed to have been elected to say a few words, which she did. She spoke movingly of Zephyr’s dedication and loyalty to the High Council, and of his bravery in making difficult choices that many would shy away from.
She told of his courage and selflessness in his final act.
‘Despite knowing he could be in danger, he chose to put himself in harm’s way to protect the Pendragon child,’ she said, her tone a mixture of grief and pride. ‘His final great act was one of sacrifice, and the magical community will be forever grateful.’
She reached out and gently stroked the coffin lid. ‘My old friend, the world is a poorer place without you, but we will strive to continue the good work you made it your life’s mission to carry out. Rest well.’
She turned back to face us all and managed a faint smile. ‘And now I invite Zephyr’s widow, Titania Ambrose, to say a few words.’
My gaze slid towards Benedict, who swallowed hard but kept his face impassive. I had to admire him. Maybe he could teach me a thing or two about hiding emotion.
Titania rose from her seat with dignity and moved purposefully to stand at the spot Aveta had just vacated. It crossed my mind fleetingly that she was shorter than I’d realised, which I supposed she got from Mrs Greenwood. Titania, however, had none of her mother’s nervous, fluttery gestures. She seemed cool and confident.
She gave the coffin a long, hard stare, then turned slowly to face us all. I had no idea who she was looking at, because the veil was too thick to see her face. It didn’t prevent her from speaking loudly and clearly enough for us all to hear her, though.
‘I would like to say thank you to Her Majesty for allowing us to use this chapel and island for the burial of my husband,’ she said, nodding vaguely in the direction of Ewella, who inclined her head in return.
Titania cleared her throat and paused a moment before continuing. ‘I can’t pretend it was my first choice. I believe Zephyr deserves the sort of funeral that previous leaders of the High Council were given. He should have been buried with honours in Glastonbury with them. However, circumstances dictate that tradition must be ignored. Aveta tells me that the very first leader of the High Council, Phoenix Tremayne, was buried here on this island. I take comfort from knowing that the two greatest leaders the High Council has ever had will now lie in the same graveyard.’
There was some shuffling, and meaningful looks were exchanged between the elder witches, who clearly thought that Zephyr’s level of greatness was up for debate.
‘Zephyr was a good man, a dutiful husband, and a loving father,’ Titania continued. ‘I was lucky to meet him, after an exceptionally traumatic childhood which could have emotionally scarred me for life.’
‘What?’ I heard Star gasp indignantly and saw Benedict’s knuckles whiten as he gripped her hand.
‘Zephyr gave me the chance to heal and recover, to make a new life for myself with someone who saw the real me and loved me for who I was, rather than with people who tried to force me into their own small, sad little world, and did their best to crush my spirit.’
‘Is she talking about Nan?’ Star said fiercely.
‘Shh, darling,’ Iliana urged. ‘Let her say what she likes. No one will believe a word of it.’
‘They will,’ Star said, nodding at the younger witches who were clearly hanging on every word.
‘Hush,’ Raiden said. ‘Please, Star, don’t make a scene. For Aurora’s sake at least.’
Star bit her lip but said nothing more, as Titania continued to discuss her wonderful marriage and the happiness the arrival of hers and Zephyr’s two children, Elvira and Easton, had given them both. She made little mention of Aurora and none at all of Benedict, which didn’t surprise us, but still infuriated us all on their behalf.
‘Aveta spoke of my husband’s final act of bravery and sacrifice,’ Titania said. ‘She said the magical community would be forever grateful.’
She finally lifted her veil and stared round at us all. She had dyed red hair, scraped back from her face which was pale and pinched looking. Her lips were thin and her eyes like flint, and I thought she had none of Mrs Greenwood’s softness and roundness, and that Benedict must have got his good looks from his father.
‘Well,’ she continued at last, ‘I’m not grateful. I’m not proud. I’m not going to stand here today and tell you how wonderful Zephyr was to throw his life away for that Pendragon child.’
Her eyes scanned the chapel, clearly looking for Trinity. She had no idea who Trinity was, but since she knew the O’Briens, most of the St Clairs, and probably most of the other witches, that only left me, Trinity, Romy, Keely, and Harley as candidates for Pendragon children. No doubt she knew that the child in question was a woman, and it was possible she’d heard she was a redhead. That narrowed it down to Trinity and Romy. I guess she quickly figured out that we three were the Pendragons in the chapel.
Her lip curled. ‘No Pendragon was worth that sacrifice,’ she said coldly. ‘We all know what that particular family is capable of.’
