Mallory shrugged. ‘Seems like the right thing to do, y’know? Look at me – I always dress in black. I listen to a lot of Fields of the Nephilim. I dunno, it’s obvious… I’m such a witch.’
Faye raised her eyebrow and said nothing; a favourite colour was hardly a prerequisite for witchcraft. She’d always chosen to work alone or with Annie, but, because of the shop, she knew plenty of local Scottish covens and less formal groups – groups of people that ran regular specialised workshops or retreats, dedicated to particular goddesses or gods, or focused on a range of techniques from seership and clairvoyancy to herbalism and healing, incense-making and traditional crafts to shamanic soul retrieval and breathwork, and everything in between. Everyone who ran those groups, or attended them, was serious about their craft; no-one was in it for the image, and indeed many of them tended not to talk about their work much with those who weren’t in the know.
‘Dunno. Like, I did this love spell when I was twenty or so. Just made it up. And the guy ended up being my boyfriend for, like, years.’
‘Uh-huh.’ Faye raised her eyebrow; not that she’d had much experience, but usually having enough sex with a smitten young man was enough to manage them becoming your boyfriend, never mind spells. Though, she checked herself; she, Annie and Aisha had done a love spell, and it had definitely worked, in a way that couldn’t have been predicted.
‘Yeah. I’ve tried some stuff for myself. Crystals and tarot. I just feel like it’s something I want to look into more, so when Rav said that’s where you were, I thought I’d ask you.’
Clearly, Mallory didn’t remember Faye mentioning that she owned one of Scotland’s most well-respected witchcraft shops, or that she was a hereditary witch; she’d had the opportunity to ask Faye as much as she wanted about her experiences, about Moddie and Grandmother and Black Sands Beach, when they’d sat next to each other at the bar. But she hadn’t been interested then. Faye also noted that this coffee date definitely wasn’t an opportunity for Mallory to apologise, which was the impression she’d given Faye in her text. Probably she knew that Faye wouldn’t have come along otherwise.
Still, Faye gave her the benefit of the doubt. Mallory might be woefully socially inept, and just because she hadn’t expressed any meaningful reason for making the huge commitment that being a member of a coven was – or, a reason for why she was interested in magic herself, or any sign that she really understood what she was letting herself in for – didn’t mean that maybe this wasn’t the right thing for her on her path. She’d definitely learn a thing or two by training to be a witch, even if it wasn’t what she expected.
Mallory reached over the table and took Faye’s hand.
‘I’d really appreciate it if you introduced me, Faye. I know I can be a bit of a bitch. I could have been more welcoming, whatever. It’s not me, being all super-friendly, y’know? But at least for Rav’s sake, we should be friends. He’s a good guy.’
Faye was bewildered by Mallory’s sudden direct contact, and had the strange experience of hearing herself reply without being aware that she’d made the decision to.
‘Well, I can put you in touch with Ruby, and she can tell you when the next open ceremony is.’ Faye found herself offering and regretted it immediately. She’d enjoyed getting to know Ruby recently and she felt a little protective of her new friends. She didn’t have many, and she didn’t want to lose them to. Plus, having Mallory there would be a huge pain; she could feel it.
‘Great, thanks.’ Mallory signalled to the waitress for the bill. What just happened? Faye wondered. Clearly, now Mallory had got what she wanted, there was no more reason for her to be here. ‘So, text me? Or give me her number.’
‘I’ll let you know,’ Faye said, noncommittally.
Mallory nodded and got up, putting her coat on; they’d been in the coffee shop for twenty minutes at maximum, and that included Mallory being late.
‘Cool. Sorry, I’ve got to run.’ Mallory picked up her umbrella.
‘What do you do, again?’ Faye asked; all of Rav’s friends worked in the music business in some way, but she couldn’t remember knowing what Mallory did.
‘Music PR. Mostly modern acoustic folk acts, singer-songwriter vocalists, that kind of thing. I get to be artificially cheerful and upbeat all day long.’ Mallory flashed Faye an intentionally false shark-like smile. ‘Like this. Okay Faye, take care, speak soon, yeah?’
Without waiting for any kind of response, Mallory left, swishing her way through the café again. Faye watched her go, feeling ill at ease.
Thirty
Annie crammed a forkful of fries into her mouth and shook her head. ‘Fuckin’ cheek, aye. Ah’ve not met the lassie but if I did I wouldnae like her one bit. Pass me the sauce.’
Faye squirmed in the uncomfortable seat on what used to be a bus and had now been turned into an on-set catering van for the cast and crew of Coven of Love. She sighed and picked at her curry; she’d lost her appetite.
‘I just don’t know how it happened. She held my hand, and I was so surprised that I said she could come along. I don’t want her to, though. I don’t like her.’ She passed Annie the bottle of ketchup and watched her squeeze it all over her dinner. ‘That doesn’t look very healthy,’ she added. ‘Aren’t you and Suze on a healthy eating regime?’
‘Aye. But I get so hungry,’ Annie looked guilty. ‘Don’t tell Suze. She’s doin’ so well. It’s alright for her. She likes all that – quinoa and lentils.’ She shuddered and made a face. ‘It’s like eatin’ rabbit food.’
Faye pulled an imaginary zip from one side of her mouth to the other. ‘My lips are sealed. What should I do about Mallory, though?’
‘Ignore her.’ Annie shrugged. ‘It’s not hard, aye.’
‘But what about when I see her?’
‘See if ye can avoid talking to her, and if ye cannae, just give her the brush off. Say you haven’t heard from Ruby.’
Faye sighed.
‘Thing is, Rav really seems to want us to be friends. For me to be nice to her. I don’t know how he can’t see how self-centred she is.’
‘Men don’t tend to notice stuff like that, especially if they want to sleep with a woman.’ Annie raised her eyebrow.
‘They have slept together, remember? They were in a relationship and they broke up. He broke it off.’
‘Hmmm. Well, maybe he’s still got a soft spot for her, aye.’
‘Thanks, that’s a huge comfort.’
Annie held up her palms in defence. ‘Hey, now! I’m just sayin’.’
‘Well, don’t just say,’ Faye snapped, and immediately felt bad for it. ‘Sorry. It’s just…’ she wasn’t sure whether to mention anything about Lyr and the faerie realm to Annie; not here, anyway.
‘What?’ Annie asked, mid-chew.
Faye leaned across the table. ‘Faerie realm stuff,’ she whispered.
Annie leaned in conspiratorially; the bus wasn’t full, and the tables behind both of them were empty, so it was unlikely they’d be heard anyway.
‘Faerie realm? As in… Finn?’
Faye blushed at the mention of his name. ‘Kind of. I’ve… dreamt of him. A couple of times,’ she said, evasively, not wanting to go into details, though that was stupid, now that she’d brought it up. She hadn’t told Annie or Susie what had happened at the club, but she’d told Gabriel. She’d had to – he was right there when Finn appeared, and he knew something was up, even though Finn had frozen him out just like everyone else. She felt odd, somehow, for telling Annie.
‘When ye say dream, ye mean…’ Annie raised her eyebrows suggestively. ‘That kindae dream?’
‘Yes.’ Faye looked at the table, feeling her cheeks flush.
‘D’you think he was… really there? That’s what he does, aye? He can come to ye in dreams.’
‘I think so, yes,’ Faye admitted.
‘But—’ Annie began, but Faye cut her off.
‘I know!’ Faye hissed. ‘God. Don’t you think I know? He tried to k
ill Rav.’
‘What aboot what he did to Aisha? Faye, really, sweetheart,’ Annie put her fork down; her expression was concerned. ‘Ye cannae start all that again.’
‘I know, and I’m not going to! Give me some credit,’ Faye whispered acidly. ‘It’s not that. That, I can handle. It’s something else. When I was at the ceremony, with Ruby’s group? At Mabon?’ She was lying to herself about being able to handle her erotic dreams about Finn, but that was beside the point for now.
‘Yeah,’ Annie was frowning, leaning forward. ‘What happened?’
‘My father. Lyr, the Faerie King of Falias. That’s the realm of earth, like Murias is water. He appeared to me in the circle. Totally freaked everyone out.’
‘No shit!’ Annie’s eyes were wide in fascination. ‘What happened?’
‘Well, not much that time. We were doing this ritual, speaking to ancestors; I told him to go, and he disappeared. But then I… we – me and Gabriel, that is – we summoned Lyr. In the rose garden at Regents Park, actually.’
Annie’s eyes widened.
‘Ye didnae!’
‘Yeah. Well, it worked. Lyr appeared. Took me to Falias and he showed me Aisha. An, she’s stuck in some kind of terrible dungeon. She looks like she hasn’t got much longer. She looks terrible. And he said…’ Faye felt the tears blocking her throat; she hated it that she cried when she was upset or angry. Why couldn’t she just get the words out? ‘He said he could help me rescue her, but in return he wants me to give him a human woman to have his child, to use as a sacrifice in this war they’re having.’
‘Wow.’ Annie blew out a long breath. ‘Not exactly ethical.’
‘Yeah. Well, I refused, of course. But I keep thinking about Aisha. Every day that passes, she’s getting thinner and weaker. And I thought…’ Faye took a deep breath. ‘I thought maybe, if I pretend to want to be Finn’s lover again, he’ll let me back in to Murias. It’s the only way. And when I’m there, I can bring her home.’
Annie shook her head.
‘Faye. Are ye mad? Ye can’t stay sober while you’re there; he has this effect on ye, like, he makes ye a sex zombie. The whole place, it’s one giant lust palace, aye? Ye can’t control yerself there, sweetheart. And there’s no way they’ll let you near her. That faerie queen, what was her name? I dinnae like the sound of her at all.’
‘There must be a way. Last time I was there, I was learning their magic. That was always my intention, to learn to be able to be there without being under Finn’s spell.’
‘But ye never got to that part, aye?’ Annie shrugged. ‘So yer back to square one,’
‘I’ve got to try, An. She’s dying.’
Neither of them said anything; Faye felt the tears rolling down her cheeks.
‘Have ye talked to Rav aboot all this?’ Annie asked, gently, leaning over the table and wiping away Faye’s tears with the cuff of the fleece she’d no doubt borrowed from someone on set to wear over her costume, which was another floor-length crushed velvet dress of the kind that Ruby and Faye had laughed about, weeks before. Annie didn’t own any clothing as pedestrian as a fleece jacket; everything she wore was usually a mix of vintage and designer wear in bright colour combinations.
‘He doesn’t want me involved in all of that. He wants to pretend it never happened,’ Faye admitted with a sigh. ‘I mean, I understand. He’s sympathetic, but when he was there, that was a really terrifying experience. He doesn’t want to go back or have anything to do with the faerie realm. I get it, I really do. But…’ she trailed off, not knowing how else to explain.
‘But he knew Aisha. He must have some sympathy.’ Annie slid out of her chair and into Faye’s, putting her arm around her. Faye buried her head in her friend’s shoulder.
‘I think he’s almost convinced himself … all the faerie stuff… even the time he spent there… it was all a hallucination or something. Temporary madness.’
‘Oh.’ Annie hugged Faye, and handed her a paper napkin from the table. ‘Well, I’m here. Okay? And we’re goin’ to make it right. I promise, okay, sweetheart?’
Faye blew her nose noisily, not caring now if people were watching. They could think what they liked; even in their wildest dreams they’d never guess what she and Annie were talking about, anyway.
‘Okay, well. Why don’t ye talk to this Gabriel? If he had something that helped ye summon Lyr before, then he might be of some use again, aye?’
’I have. He’s been really helpful, and Ruby? She’s the wardrobe mistress here? They’ve both been very supportive.’
‘Good. Look, I’m due back on set now, but let’s talk later, okay?’
‘Okay.’ Faye wiped her eyes as best she could without all the makeup coming off. Annie made a face.
‘Ye might want to fix your face before you go.’ Annie planted a kiss on Faye’s forehead and wriggled out of the long bus seat. ‘Ah love ye, ye daftie.’
‘Love you too.’ Faye watched her friend go, unhappily.
Thirty-One
It was a Saturday and Faye had invited Gabriel, Annie, Susie and Ruby around for dinner at Rav’s flat. After she’d picked up the food she needed for dinner in the morning – some fresh salmon from the fishmonger on the high street, wine from the friendly traditional vintner on the corner who let her take her time choosing the perfect wine to accompany it, and some delicious smelling granary bread from the bakery – she got on the tube, heading to the West End so she could walk to Fortune’s to meet Ruby and Gabriel. From her seat on the train, Faye watched her fellow passengers and realised she felt like a local for the first time. She remembered that night when she and Rav had gone to that bar: how crowded it had felt, how choked she’d been by the traffic fumes outside. Now, she’d grown used to London, and liked the anonymity that cloaked her when she rode the train or walked around; she kept the black obsidian crystal on her, usually, when she was out and about, which made her feel protected from the chaos of the city.
Perhaps because of the crystal or perhaps because that’s just how it was in London, no-one paid her any attention, no-one cared what she looked like or who she was. In their strange, polite way, she found Londoners generally far more quietly tolerant than the villagers in tiny Abercolme, who noticed and remarked on everything. Here, she felt a new kind of freedom. She felt that she could have run through the streets shouting that she was half-faerie, or a witch, and absolutely no-one would react. Unlike Abercolme, there were so many different cultures, occupations, languages and identities in the city that Faye being a witch and faerie just blended into the mix.
When she reached Fortune’s, Ruby and Gabriel were standing outside, waiting for her. Ruby was swathed in a shocking pink pashmina over the top of her tailored navy blue coat which was cinched at the waist with a wide navy leather belt; she wore knee-length beige leather boots underneath. Gabriel wore his black suit and white shirt underneath, as usual, with a black overcoat on top. Faye kissed them both on the cheek.
‘You both look gorgeous.’ She felt happy at the day ahead: an afternoon with Ruby and Gabriel who were becoming good friends, and dinner with Annie and Susie joining them later. It was more than that: she felt like a normal person, having fun. Life could be fun, and she’d forgotten.
‘You always do. We’re always playing catch-up.’ Ruby gave her a hug and took her arm. ‘Okay, so: Star Herbs for necessary witch shopping. Then, cake. Then back to yours.’
‘Sounds perfect.’
Star Herbs sat on the corner of a little courtyard off a similar small cobbled street to Fortune’s, hidden from view. An apothecary-style herbalist, it boasted an oversized old-fashioned wooden castle door, studded with metal in the shape of stars. Faye traced their irregular bumps with her fingertips as she followed Gabriel inside.
‘They also sell amazing home-made candles, incenses and oils,’ Ruby said as they entered, the pungent smell of frankincense billowing around them.
Inside, the shop was an L-shape with a flickering, tiled fireplace under
rows of bookshelves to Faye’s left. Along the walls, many-drawered antique apothecary cabinets boasted a combination of original Latin calligraphy labels and more modern additions in marker pen: Passiflora Incarnata, Achillea Millefolium, Gingko Biloba. To Faye’s right, the long glass-topped shop counter stood in front of a wall of labelled jars selling herbs by the ounce like old-fashioned sweets. The jars were arranged for practicality over beauty, but the mix of oversized plastic sweet jars with their generic white tops, green and blue glass jars with wide-necked glass stoppers and the occasional Mason jar with peeling-off, yellowed sticky tape around the label appealed to Faye. She took in a deep breath.
‘This is amazing,’ she breathed. Immediately she compared it to Mistress of Magic, her own shop, taking in the vintage décor, the candle on the counter that burned in a wine bottle almost entirely covered with the multi-coloured drippings of old wax. To the right of the counter, on the other side of the L-shape, tall and short candles in all the colours Faye could image were stacked in careful triangle-shaped piles.
It was different to her shop, yes, but Mistress of Magic had its own character. Hers had been a family home: generations of Morgan women had warmed themselves by the hearth, told fortunes, dispensed remedies. Faye felt a sudden tug of homesickness: a vision of Mistress of Magic, closed to customers, its display windows getting streaked and dirty from the rain, struck her. When was she going back?
‘Hey.’ Ruby nudged her as Faye stared at the candles, not seeing them, thinking of the shop. She and Rav had never put a time limit on her being in London: she’d been reluctant to, and Rav had been desperate to leave Abercolme. His house, the modern glass mansion on Black Sands Beach, was still up for sale. Faye doubted it would sell anytime soon. Had magic – her spell, specifically – summoned Rav to Abercolme? There had to be a reason that he’d bought a house that had otherwise lain empty for almost as long as she could remember. The house lay on a road to the faerie realm, and the faeries would discourage any new owners, she was sure. But her shop was in Abercolme, and she couldn’t leave it forever. Soon, she’d have to go back, or find a more permanent solution.
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