M O R G A N

I have this reoccurring nightmare where I'm free-falling through the air, and I see the ground below. I tumble through the air, knowing I will hit the frozen ground and die in a few seconds. I spread my arms open, quietly accepting my fate. Then as I'm about to hit the ground, an angel appears above me with bright golden wings. He is reaching for me, and just as I'm about to reach back, my alarm goes off.

I sit up and rub an imaginary pain in the back of my head. There's a twenty-centimetre scar hidden beneath my waves of red hair from my head surgery. The back of my skull had been badly smashed up, so the surgeon removed part of it and replaced it with a metal plate.

I always wondered if that dream had some connection with what happened that night four years ago. I wondered if an angel really did try to rescue me.

I got out of bed and threw on my fluffy rainbow onesie. The downside of living in a three-hundred-year-old pub was no insulation or central heating. The building was heated with a few electric heaters (that were too far expensive to run all the time) and fires.

The main fireplace was located in the bar area downstairs. It was a beautiful stone fireplace that had warmed the patrons of the Fox & Dragon for the past three centuries. It was my job every morning to go downstairs, sweep out the ash from the previous fire, and then build a new fire for today.

I crept down the stairs and switched the lights on in the main bar. It was still pitch black outside as the sun wasn't due to rise for another three hours. So I set to work on the fire gathering the newspaper and kindling that I needed.

I padded across the freezing flagstones with a bucket and brush in hand. There was a mountain of ash that would need to be swept away before I could start building the new fire. However, when I got to the fireplace, something small and feathery lay dead on top of the ash.

It was a dead raven, lying beak up, with its feet curled into its body.

A shiver ran down my spine. I've never known a bird to drop dead down our chimney. I poked the bird with the tip of my brush to see if it had any apparent injury.

There was no visible injury.

I knocked the dead bird into the bucket and continued to sweep out the fireplace. I would take the bird out later and throw it in the compost pile. Unfortunately, it was too cold to bury it.

I built a fire up and dragged a chair in front of it. There was so much to be done before tonight's events. I couldn't be worrying about dead ravens or golden-winged angels.

I started peeling the vegetables for tonight's dinner and wondered how Poppy would react when Eli was mated to another girl.

Truthfully, I was relieved that Poppy would not be chosen as Eli's mate. Poppy was sunshine and energy, while Eli was cold and distant. I was sure that they would make each other miserable.

I was distracted from my train of thought when India came down the stairs draped in a fluffy blanket and wearing a bobble hat.

She made a beeline to the fireplace and pulled up a chair next to me.

"Have you looked outside?" She asked, warming hands by the fire.

"No," I replied, peeling a potato.

India got up and crossed the floor to the nearest window. She pulled back the heavy curtain, revealing a snow-covered landscape.

"It's been snowing since midnight. The weather forecast said that we would miss the snow, but it looks like the bad weather swung south overnight," India said, staring across the snowy crossroads just in front of the pub.

I rose up from my chair and headed to the window. I peered out into the falling snow and said, "I haven't seen snow like this since, since-"

"Your accident?" India said, finishing my sentence for me.

I nodded my head. "It looks so beautiful."

India reached out and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. I smiled back at her, suddenly grateful for everything her family had done for me.

"You know," India smiled, "There is an old saying that when it snows on the year's first new moon, the wisps will bring a new dragon to the village."

"A new dragon? Has that ever happened before?" I asked.

"No," India said, then quickly added, "But I don't think we've had snow on the year's first new moon."

We both stared out into the dark swirling storm. The crossroad the pub faced had disappeared under a thick layer of snow.

I could just make out the distant shape of the Craving Stone, jutting upwards. But, beyond that, I could see something next to it. A dark figure moves around the stone.

"That person is mad going out in this weather," India commented, seeing the figure too.

"Maybe, it's a dog walker?" I suggested.

The figure moved closer and closer and slowly started to take the shape of a man.

"I think he's looking at us," India whispered. "Maybe he's the new dragon?"

Suddenly, the phone behind the bar let out a loud shrill ring. India and I both screamed, then burst out laughing.

"This is ridiculous. It's clearly a dog walker," I said, pulling the curtain across the window.

I walked over to the bar and picked up the phone. It was too early for a customer to call, so I guessed this was one of our suppliers.

"Good morning, Fox & Dragon pub and restaurant," I answered.

"Morgan, thank goodness. Have you looked outside? It's a code white!" The panicked voice of a young man replied.

It was Rupert Greeves, the village's apprentice butcher and Poppy's unrequited love. He was eight months younger than Poppy but completely smitten with her.

"It's terrible, Morgan. I've not seen it this bad since 2008," he declared.

I wanted to point out that I didn't remember the winter of 2008 but agreed with, "Yes, it looks pretty bad."

"I have all the meat you ordered for tonight's feast, but I cannot deliver it. The cold weather has killed the battery in my van."

This was terrible news. We needed the delivery for the feast tonight. Thankfully, Rupert's shop was located half a mile away at the top of the village.

"Don't worry, India and I can walk to your shop and carry the meat back to the pub," I replied calmly and then quickly asked, "Remind me again what we ordered?"

"Two pigs for the spit roast, eight haunches of wild venison, twelve pheasants, and two hundred of my award-winning Thorsbury pork sausages," he said cheerfully.

Oh boy, that was a lot of meat to carry.

But we would have to find a way to carry the meat, as no meat meant no feast. No feast meant hangry villagers.

We needed to get that delivery somehow. A little light bulb went off in my head. The last time we had snow, Poppy and India had taken me to the Devil's Punch Bowl with a couple of sledges and spent the whole day slipping and sliding down the slopes.

I was pretty sure those sledges were still about in the back shed.

"Okay, here's the plan," I said calmly. "I will meet you outside your shop in thirty minutes. Please have the meat double bagged and ready to go."

I grabbed the sledge and began the half-mile trudge to the end of the village. The walk was pretty easy as the snow was fresh. I found Rupert waiting for me at the top of Puddle Duck Hill.

"I've double-bagged everything as you asked," he said, taking the sledge from my hand. "I dug out the old sledge me and Poppy used to ride when we were younger. I thought I'd help you return the meat to the pub."

"Thanks, that would be a big help," I replied.

"I heard Poppy will join the others around the Craving Stone tonight. I heard she has her sights set on Eli," Rupert said flatly.

I patted his arm sympathetically. "Eli has no interest in Poppy. I doubt the wisps will choose her as his mate."

Rupert stared sadly at his feet. "I asked her to wait another year. I'm too young to join her around the Craving Stone. I long for the wisps to pick me as her mate. I would be a far better mate to her than Eli."

"I know you would. Don't let this worry you. I expect the wisps will choose Aisling as Eli's mate," I said, hoping to offer some comfort to Rupert.

He arched an eyebrow and said, "I hope you don't mind me saying, but I heard that you might be putting yourself forward tonight."

"Who did you hear that from?" I asked

"Eli has been hinting that you might join him around the stone this evening," he said.

Anger flared up inside me. Damn Eli for that. He had confronted me two days ago about joining him around the stones.

I had been carrying a tray of clean pint glasses up the cellar steps when he had blocked my way. He had stood at the top of the cellar trapdoor and refused to move until I'd heard him out.

"Are you planning on joining the other girls around the Craving Stone?" he asked.

"No. I'm not a dragon," I sighed irritably.

"I disagree," Eli replied in a clipped voice. "You came to this village four years ago when Charlie found you half-dead in a field. And whilst I appreciate you don't remember anything before that night, Charlie saw a golden-winged dragon flying over the mill."

"I know all about the golden-winged dragon. It's one of the many origin stories villagers have concocted about me," I replied dryly.

"Morgan, do you realise what this would mean if it were true? You could be a member of the royal family from our homeland. You would be the first new dragon to come to the village in four hundred years," he explains.

"It's true. I could be a long-lost princess. But then, I also might be a long-lost hooker that a serial killer failed to murder. So, unfortunately, the mystery will remain unsolved because I do not remember," I snapped.

Eli studied me for a few seconds and said, "If you are a dragon, your DNA is invaluable to this village. We've been breeding from a limited pool these last few centuries. Your DNA would help diversify and strengthen our clans. I can't force you to join the mating ceremony tonight, but I hope you will carefully reconsider my words. I promise that while there may not be any love between us now, I could learn to be fond of you with time and patience."

I remember staring at him opened-mouthed.

"Okay, thanks for that. I need to go and cool down after all that naughty talk about DNA and diversifying the village gene pool," I said and slid past Eli.

The conversation had been revolting, and I'd tried to push it far from my mind for the past two days. But the fact that Rupert knew worried me.

I couldn't risk this information getting back to Poppy.

"Eli must have been joking. Everyone, even the wisps, knows that the Corvells would never mate with a Button," I said dismissively.

"Oh," Rupert replied, sounding a little disappointed. "I was hoping that you would put yourself forward. The wisps might choose you instead of Poppy."

"That's not going to happen," I replied.

We walked to the shop and loaded the meat onto the sledges. We used parcel string to tie the meat to the sledge and stop it from falling off.

"Thank goodness, no one is here to see their dinner being pushed down the hill," Rupert joked.

I would've agreed, but then I remembered the dog walker by the Craving Stone.

"Did you see a dog walker pass by this way earlier?" I asked.

"No," Rupert replied. "But I did see a tall, strange fellow that I've never seen before. He walked past the shop holding a crow or a raven in his hands. The poor thing was making a terrible racket. It looked like he was squeezing it."

I thought about the dead bird in the fireplace and shook my head. That was impossible.

"Someone posted on the village's Facebook page that a vagrant had moved into the abandoned cottage outside the village. I wondered if the man I saw was the vagrant. Perhaps, he's mad," Rupert said.

A wave of sickness bubbled up inside me.

"Where was this man heading?" I asked.

"Toward your pub," Rupert replied.