“Is there any extra power source a member of your family could’ve drawn from? An ancestor buried here, something like that.” Elaine nodded, pushing her glasses up her nose. “One, yes. An Aelwyd Jones. She came over at the same time as your vaunted Gryffud Penhallow. But as far as we’ve always known, there was nothing special about her. Just another witch who emigrated here, and died of some random sickness, like so many of them did.” Something flickered in Simon’s face, but it was there and gone too quickly for Rhys to know what it was.
