Queen of Sea and Stars

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Queen of Sea and Stars Page 5

by Anna McKerrow

This was the first night she’d come into the busier part of the city. It was a Friday night; the pavements teemed with people, and Faye found that, in places, she had to step into the road to get around them. The traffic was heavy and the air was full of food smells, underlying which was a grittier, smokier presence she was unused to. It put her on edge. She jumped when people nudged her, brushed past her or hurtled by unexpectedly.

  Since being in the realm of faerie, she’d noticed something different about the way she related to the human world around her. She’d always felt connected to the natural world, and felt dissonant and lost if she didn’t go outside every day, feel the earth under her feet and the air on her skin. But, after those first few times being in Murias, Faye felt more deeply connected to the trees, the grass and the sky, as if threads made of each element brushed her skin and tangled in her hair, held her, whispering their magic.

  Coming out of the tube and into this chaos was more than dissonance: even in Hampstead she’d been able to feel some kind of connection to the natural world, but here, there was nothing. Faye felt turned upside down, as if all her usual compass points were missing. She was adrift. And being inside the bar, being ignored, made it worse. She felt panic rise up in her throat like acid and knew she had to get out of there.

  She was angry now, too: furious that these trendy intellectuals dismissed her magic so quickly. To them, her witch shop and talk of tarot was an entertaining novelty, but they weren’t able to understand anything deeper. They didn’t have the language, the frame of reference, so they rejected her.

  Faye got up, grabbed her coat from the back of the chair and made her way towards the exit, pushing past people queueing to be served by the glamorous bar staff. Outside, she gulped in the air, desperate for peace, but the air was grey and full of the heavy smell of fatty food. No, London wasn’t a dog: it was something else, a fogged dragon, a thick cacophonous mire of other people’s thoughts and energies that caught at her clothes, at her hair. That snaked through wet, echoing alleys and hazed the stars from the night sky with its orange breath.

  ‘Hey. Faye! What’s wrong?’ Rav was on his phone, standing outside, but held out his hand for her. She knew she must look wild, like a cornered animal, because that was how she felt.

  ‘Nothing. I… didn’t feel well. Inside. I needed some air.’ She tried breathing it in again and coughed.

  ‘Not much air to be had out here. It’s no Abercolme.’ A haunted look flitted across Rav’s face momentarily, then was gone; Sumi and the rest of them had seen this same look. Had seen the dark circles under his eyes.

  ‘It isn’t.’ She wondered whether to tell him what Sumi had asked her. Whether to ask him if he wanted her to lie; to say that Murias had been a dream, a fantasy, a mutual high. Would that make it easier for him to recover?

  Her instinct was to tell the truth: in that moment, she also wanted to tell Rav about the promise she’d made, to give a human baby – her future child, perhaps their future child together – to Glitonea, the faerie queen.

  She wanted to go back into the bar with him, hand in hand, and tell his friends exactly what had happened in Abercolme. About Murias; tell them categorically, explain in detail once and for all what was real and what wasn’t. Faye yearned for the release of that pressure; she didn’t want to be the only one that knew what she knew any more. But she’d told the truth to Sumi, and Sumi hadn’t believed her.

  And Rav would believe her about the baby, because he had been in faerie and he knew the bargains they demanded; but he wouldn’t want to hear it. And she was afraid he’d hate her for the choice she’d had to make to save him.

  London was a beautiful city; its people were intelligent, cultured, varied and full of wisdom and wonder. But London had, for the most part, forgotten magic; it was too far from the remote places where it could still happen. The dragon was a forgetfulness. It was a confusion, a blanketing of disbelief, that Faye felt was hostile to her. She didn’t belong here.

  ‘Sorry it’s so loud in there. Is it too much?’ Rav was solicitous, as always. He frowned at her expression, which must have belied her anger and frustration. ‘We can go somewhere else, or go home if you’re not having a good time.’

  ‘No, it’s all right,’ she lied, saving his feelings. ‘I just… needed a moment, I suppose.’

  ‘I wanted you to meet my friends. People from the business. So you could… I dunno. Know something else about me that wasn’t being abducted by a jealous faerie king. You know? Although that is a pretty standard relationship milestone, obviously.’ He half-smiled, looking away shyly. ‘There’s still so much we don’t know about each other, Faye. I know I love you, but… dunno. You’re a pretty closed book at times.’

  ‘I know,’ she said, feeling guilty.

  ‘I know we need to talk more about… what happened. I know. But I’m not ready, okay? I’ll tell you when I am. But I’m only just back on my feet, and…’ he trailed off, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. ‘God. I can’t get rid of these bloody headaches, either,’ he sighed.

  ‘I don’t expect you to talk about it until you’re ready. I know how weird and scary it was, and I can only imagine…’ She saw in his eyes that even this was too much for him, and so she trailed off and looked away at the bustling street. She knew he needed to heal. And, yet, there was a question in her mind that she didn’t want to ask, and felt sure that she didn’t want to hear the answer, so she pushed it away. What if Rav never wanted to talk about being kidnapped by Finn?

  ‘Your friends think I’m lying. About Murias. They’re worried about you. They think we’re either both mad or we spent months high as kites together,’ Faye blurted out. Perhaps she shouldn’t betray Sumi’s confidence, but the injustice of her accusations stung.

  Rav looked away. ‘I don’t blame them. The more time I’m away from Abercolme, the more I wonder if I dreamt it all.’

  ‘But you didn’t dream it, Rav. You know you didn’t, right?’ Faye was aghast. What if, over time, Rav made himself forget that it had ever happened – or, pushed it so far down inside himself that it would be hidden, repressed, avoided – for the rest of his life? People performed conscious acts of forgetting for easier things. Could she live a life with someone who refused to acknowledge that trauma, which would also mean refusing to acknowledge a vital part of her, her faerie self? She’d run away to forget. That was true. But Faye knew in her heart that she couldn’t deny that part of herself forever. Moreover, she didn’t want to.

  He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

  ‘I know. I know, okay? But… I don’t want to talk about it. It’s not the time.’

  ‘Okay.’

  There was an uncomfortable silence. Faye knew that she could never tell him about the baby. Perhaps it will be all right. Perhaps it won’t ever happen, it’s a nightmare, a hallucination. She tried desperately to reconcile it all in her mind, but she knew she was lying to herself. It had happened. She’d made the bargain. And she could never tell him.

  ‘D’you want to go back in?’ He reached for her hand. ‘Promise I won’t leave you alone with them again. They’re a tough crowd, I guess, when you don’t know them.’ He smiled ruefully.

  ‘You need to talk to them. To Sumi. Try and make her understand I’m not some kind of monster,’ Faye insisted. ‘Please, Rav. For me?’

  ‘I’ll talk to them. But not right now, okay?’

  ‘Fine.’

  Faye didn’t want to go back in, but she acquiesced. Perhaps normal required a sacrifice. Especially from a witch.

  She followed him back into the bar and let its darkness and chaos swallow her up.

  She smiled, but it was a mask, and they both knew it.

  Six

  ‘What a bitch.’ Annie poured a whole bottle of red wine into three enormous glasses and handed one to Susie and one to Faye.

  ‘Which one?’ Faye rolled her eyes and took her glass.

  ‘Yeah, well. The friend, I guess
ye could say she was only lookin’ out for Rav. But the ex-girlfriend? She’s obviously jealous. Probably still has feelings for the guy, the sleekit hussy,’ Annie added before taking a large gulp.

  ‘You’ve got to wait for it to breathe, you heathen.’ Susie laughed and swirled her wine around her glass. ‘Just as well I bought these big ones before you moved in,’ she said, raising her eyebrow at Faye. ‘You’ve probably gone teetotal without this one around, I expect,’ she added, smiling. ‘It’s so good to see you again, Faye. It’s been forever.’

  ‘You too. I’m so glad you two found each other again. She never stopped going on about you, Susie.’ Faye clinked her glass against theirs. ‘To old friends and new love.’

  An evening in Annie and Susie’s quietly luxurious, comfortable flat was just the respite Faye needed after last week’s night out with Rav’s friends. They’d stayed out much later than she expected, going to another late bar and then out for food into the early hours. For the whole night, Faye had felt the foggy, malicious presence of London encircle her, nudging, licking at her unpleasantly.

  She’d made herself smile and be pleasant, asked questions and laughed at jokes that she didn’t think were funny and listened to long music business conversations that she didn’t understand, but by the time they got back to Rav’s flat at four in the morning she was so exhausted that she woke up the next morning with a pounding headache.

  ‘Aye, shut up, Faye,’ Annie blushed. ‘I wasn’t always talkin’ aboot her. Ye make it sound like I was some lovesick hare, gazin’ at the moon.’

  ‘Near enough.’ Faye grinned, taking a sip of the wine. It was lovely being with Annie again, and Susie was as adorable as Faye remembered; they’d been an item, years before, but the long distance hadn’t worked out at the time. Susie was short, with a platinum blonde bob she wore straight for her work as a solicitor; tonight it was in slightly uneven pigtails. She was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with an obscure computer game reference with a pink cardigan over the top and large gold hoop earrings with her name inside them in looping gold script.

  Annie gave Faye an affectionate stare, pretending to be outraged.

  ‘Faye,’ Annie rolled her eyes at her best friend. ‘Dinnae give away all my secrets, sweetheart. Or I’ll be forced to tell the story of how ye wet yerself onstage at the school assembly.’

  ‘What? That’s not a story. Don’t make things up to show off in front of your new girlfriend,’ Faye chided. ‘And I didn’t wet myself!’

  ‘Don’t embarrass the girl.’ Susie smiled knowingly at Faye. ‘Luckily for Annie, I always held a bit of a candle for her too. Must have been divine providence that got her a job in London, that’s all I can say. I thought I’d lost her to Abercolme forever.’

  ‘Aye, well. Coven of Love made me an offer too good to refuse.’ Annie stirred a pot of pasta on the hob and lifted the lid on a delicious-smelling sauce.

  ‘It was good! You’re a lead character. Though I have to say, that set does need some updating. I agree with the director there,’ Faye said, frowning when she thought of the clichéd décor.

  ‘She wants ye to come back in and give her some pointers.’

  ‘Oh! I didn’t think she was serious.’ Faye was surprised.

  ‘Aye. I told her she needed an expert opinion.’ Annie held out the wooden spoon she’d stirred the pot with for Susie to taste. ‘It’s a good show, but some of the storylines are ridiculous.’

  Faye raised an eyebrow, but said nothing – her real life had been pretty ridiculous of late, after all.

  ‘More salt.’ Susie reached past Annie to get something from the fridge, and Faye watched them with a sudden yearning. They seemed so happy together. Perhaps this was what she and Rav looked like from the outside, too; but Faye was aware that the comfortable delight that Annie and Susie took in these everyday parts of their life together – cooking, talking about their day at work, entertaining friends – eluded her and Rav. Both relationships were new – it wasn’t a comparison of an established love to a new one. No, there was a closeness between Annie and Susie that was absent between she and Rav, despite their passion. Too much unresolved pain hung between them, and she didn’t know how to help Rav and herself move on.

  ‘You’re quiet.’ Annie spooned the pasta into the sauce, added some of the pasta’s cooking water into the pan then spooned generous mounds onto three plates. Susie followed behind her, drizzling olive oil and grinding pepper onto each plate before bringing them to the table.

  ‘Oh, it’s nothing,’ Faye lied, tasting the pasta, which was delicious. ‘Mmmm! Annie, your cooking has definitely improved.’

  ‘Hmmm,’ Annie waved her fork at Faye as she ate. ‘Nae bad. So is Rav still really sufferin’? From bein’ in the faerie realm?’ She shook her head. ‘Ye wouldnae get me tae go there after what I know now, aye.’

  ‘It’s going to take a long time.’ Faye sighed. ‘And I understand that he wants to move on, forget about it, live a normal life, you know? I really do. But I’m not going to lie. What does that make me look like in front of his friends? And is forgetting really the best thing to do? I don’t know if it is.’

  ‘It’s different for you. Ye’re half a fae yerself. Remember that Rav isnae.’ Annie reached for the cheese and grated some onto her meal.

  ‘Exactly. It’s half of me. It’s part of who I am, right? So I can’t forget it. And I don’t want to. If he does, does it really make sense to be with me, a constant reminder of what happened to him?’ she appealed to Annie, who shrugged. ‘There’s going to come a day where he doesn’t want to be reminded of Murias any more. What happens to us then?’

  Annie knew the whole story, but Faye hadn’t told her about the bargain with Glitonea either. She’d merely said, I managed to rescue Rav, and the faeries came when I needed them, the night of the concert. She’d let Annie make her own conclusions after that. She’d never kept anything from Annie before, and she hated herself for it.

  Why not tell Annie about the faerie bargain now? Faye steeled herself. She’d been afraid of a rebuke, of Annie’s disapproval, but she knew her friend would help her. You can tell her now. Just open your mouth and tell her, it’ll be okay.

  She felt the words cluster in her throat, but rather than finding it easy to talk to Annie, to tell her anything as she always had done, they choked her. No. You cannot tell, Glitonea’s voice echoed in her ear. I forbade it as part of the bargain.

  Faye shook her head; it was just her imagination, surely. She tried again, suddenly anxious she should tell Annie, but the same thing happened: her throat felt like it closed up, and she started a coughing fit. The harder she tried to get the words out, the worse the coughing got; like faerie hands around her throat, she was being denied air. Or being drowned. Black spots swam in front of her eyes; Faye’s eyelids fluttered closed, and she saw Glitonea’s face with its strange, intense beauty; Faye watched her lips move. You will keep your word as I kept mine.

  Leave me alone! Please! Faye screamed, inside her mind. She was far too disoriented to be able to use any witchcraft to defend herself from the faerie queen; the protection sigil she’d been keeping in her pocket was in her coat, thrown over the sofa in the next room.

  Can I trust you, Faye Morgan? Glitonea’s head tilted to one side as she watched Faye choking; her expression was dispassionate, calm. Faye gasped for breath.

  You can trust me, I won’t tell, please! Faye appealed in desperation as she started to lose consciousness. She was dimly aware of Annie slapping her on the back, of Susie saying something, is she choking, what is it, should we call an ambulance?

  So be it. But I will be watching. Glitonea’s face disappeared and the drowning sensation lessened immediately. Faye slumped onto the table, heaving in huge gusts of air. Gradually, she felt herself return to normal.

  ‘What the hell was that? Are you all right, Faye?’ Susie helped her sit up and handed her a glass of water. ‘Here. Drink it carefully. Did you choke?’

  Faye sh
ook her head and heaved in a deep breath.

  ‘I… I don’t know what happened. Sorry.’

  ‘Ye dinnae need tae apologise, daftie!’ Annie laughed nervously. ‘Ah thought ye were a goner for a second there.’

  ‘I’m okay.’ Faye cleared her throat. ‘Something went down the wrong way, that’s all.’

  Annie gave her a searching look. She knew something was up, Faye could tell: they knew each other far too well. She avoided Annie’s eyes.

  ‘You’d tell me if somethin’ was wrong, wouldn’t ye, darlin’? No secrets between us, aye?’ Annie stared at her with a strange expression on her face. It wasn’t distrust, but something near to it.

  ‘Leave her alone, Annie. She just choked, that’s all.’ Susie put a protective arm around Faye’s shoulders. ‘Faye wouldn’t keep any secrets from you. You’re like sisters. Let her get her breath back.’

  ‘Aye, all right,’ Annie agreed, but Faye still avoided her eyes.

  Seven

  ‘Listen. About Rav…’ Susie resumed the thread of their conversation as the three of them sat in front of the fire Annie had built in the blackened wood burner. ‘You don’t know what might or might not happen in the future, Faye. All you can do is be honest with him now.’

  Honest. If only it was that simple, Faye thought. Her throat still hurt; she sipped the rich red wine which soothed it slightly.

  ‘It’ll work out. Maybe he needs to have some therapy, anyway. It’s no bad thing,’ Susie continued.

  ’What aboot this Mallory? She’s got it in for ye, aye?’ Annie interrupted. She was annoyed, Faye could tell. She could sense there was something Faye wasn’t telling her, and she didn’t like it.

  ‘I don’t know about that. She was just rude to me. But Sumi told me that they’d gone out. Her and Rav. And that she didn’t think Mallory was over it.’

  Susie rolled her eyes. ‘The usual shenanigans. Does Rav still have feelings for her?’

 

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