The door opened and closed, and their voices trailed away, leaving Faye alone. Carefully, she opened the cubicle door, stepped into the communal space and stared at herself in the mirror.
A few weeks ago. About the same time that she’d come home to find Mallory in the flat. They’d likely kissed. Mallory and Rav. And he’d lied about it.
He’d had the nerve to make her feel guilty. And the even greater nerve to send her off for coffee with his… whatever Mallory was, to make nice. To make friends, presumably so that he and Mallory could carry on their affair behind her back, without her suspecting anything.
She couldn’t go back to the table and pretend everything was okay. She wouldn’t be able to keep up any pretence that she hadn’t heard what she’d heard.
Faye pushed the door to the ladies’ bathroom open and stepped out, back into the main room, keeping to the wall. While she’d been in the bathroom, a DJ had started a set, and a lot of people were dancing already. She watched their drunk, jerky movements, looking for Rav. He wasn’t much of a dancer, so she wasn’t surprised not to see him there, though Roni had joined the fray and was flailing around flamboyantly in his shirt and trousers, having taken his jacket off.
Faye kept to the wall and walked along it, scanning the crowd. She didn’t want to talk to Rav; she was too angry, but she needed her coat and bag. She was leaving, and she didn’t want him trying to persuade her to stay, or, worse, to have a huge argument in front of everyone.
He wasn’t anywhere near the table, so she made her way quickly to where she’d left her bag and picked it up, avoiding the glances of the people standing around it, talking. Sumi waved at her from the bar, beckoning her over, but Faye only smiled and pointed off into the room as if she was needed elsewhere.
It was then that she saw them. Mallory had her hand in his, half-dragging him to the dancefloor; Rav was protesting, but the crowd of friends around them were pushing him towards the other bodies, laughing; he was laughing, too. He wasn’t looking for Faye and he wasn’t refusing Mallory: his hand stayed in her grip.
Faye watched as Rav and Mallory joined the writhing bodies, jumping and moving to the heavy beats that filled the warehouse like a pulse. Her own heart pounded along with it, but it was anger and sadness that fuelled it.
Faye turned her back on the scene; the shadows from the dancers were too similar to the ones of the enchanted crowd at Abercolme, before some of them had been abducted into faerie. She wondered, then, if Rav had now forgotten everything that had happened; or, if he too sought the same kind of wilful oblivion that she had, when she’d accepted the kiss of Finn Beatha, High King of Murias. Finn Beatha, who was her drug; who was the tribal beat in her blood, lulling her into soft submission to all of her darkest fantasies.
She couldn’t do this: couldn’t stay here and watch them, whatever was going on. And if Rav truly wanted to forget the faerie kingdom, then he’d be better off with Mallory and not her. Faye had tried so hard to iron down, reduce and minimise her faerie half for his benefit, but none of it had worked. She’d always feel out of place with his friends, no matter how nice they might try to be. That part of her, the velvety shadow that knew the faerie realms still wanted them; they were as much her home as the human world. Like a mermaid, to restrict herself to this world would be like cutting out her tongue and walking on knives. She couldn’t go on with someone who didn’t want all of her.
Without thinking, she picked up a white napkin from the table and wrote a note to Rav.
I’m going to stay at Annie’s for a while. I don’t know if anything’s going on with you and Mallory, but if it is, maybe it’s better for you than this. I can’t be what you want me to be. I need some space.
Faye
Blundering out of the door, she wiped tears from her eyes.
She needed to think clearly and sat down on the empty bench under a nearby bus stop. Thinking of the faerie reel had made her think of Aisha again; if she no longer had to consider Rav’s feelings, she knew how she could get back to Murias to find her friend. She’d always known; Finn had dominated her dreams, leading her back there. Be my lover, love me, sidhe-leth. She’d discussed it with Gabriel and Ruby, but rejected the idea because of Rav.
Finn had told her that he’d foreseen her being his lover again. Did that mean it definitely would happen? She didn’t know, but what if she could resist the overwhelming power of Murias? If she could resist Finn’s seduction, keep strong and fight the lassitude and forgetfulness that always enshrined her when she was with him, then she could find Aisha. She could bring her home.
Faye’s heart leapt with the thought. It would be dangerous, but she quelled the fear that rose up within her.
Could she lie to Finn? Could she resist him? Being in Murias was overpowering, but Lyr’s crystal had helped her banish Finn from the Samhain ball. Perhaps it could help her remain detached from his power just enough if she went to Murias again. If she pretended to love him again, and waited for an opportunity to rescue Aisha.
Faye pushed her heartbreak to one side. Aisha was what mattered; all this time, she’d been trying to balance too many plates: she’d been concentrating on her relationship with Rav, but it could never be right between them. She’d been trying to fit in, to be normal, and it hadn’t worked. She was half-fae, and there was no denying it.
And while she was trying to play normal with Rav, Aisha was dying.
Faye’s heart convulsed with the guilt; denying her identity had put Aisha in even more danger. She should have had the strength to refuse to be anything other than she was, but she’d believed a lie: that she could be happy if she denied her faerie half. She should have gone to Murias earlier.
She got out her phone and composed a message to Gabriel. If there’s ever anything I can help with, let me know. He’d said it when they sat talking outside Star Herbs. She hoped he meant it.
Hey. I need your help, are you around?
She pressed send and watched the screen as the message was delivered and then read. Almost immediately, Gabriel replied:
Of course, silly question. Always available. What, where and when?
I’ll text a list of stuff, can you bring it and meet me? I’ll meet you outside the Greenwich foot tunnel. Island Gardens side, she messaged Gabriel. Need you for impromptu ritual. I know what I have to do.
A car’s headlights washed over her as it drove up the empty street; Faye pulled her coat around her. She still wasn’t that used to the city and being out alone at night in this strangely quiet part of it was unnerving. She took a deep breath, made sure she kept her phone in her hand in her pocket if she needed it, and started walking to the meeting place. She’d get there first, but there was a tube station nearby and at least that was a better place for her to wait for Gabriel.
Okay. Be with you in half an hour, he replied.
Faye fired off a list in a separate text as she walked: lamps or candles – it would be dark out at the riverside at night, especially somewhere quiet, which was what she needed – incense in some kind of portable censer, a cup. The rest, they could make do with what there was when they got there.
She didn’t know for sure if something was going on between Rav and Mallory, but the fact that there was enough of a rumour going around that the girls in the toilets earlier were discussing it openly made Faye’s stomach tense with anxious sadness. She was angry, too – she hadn’t liked seeing Rav dance with Mallory, no matter how innocent it may have been. If he’d kissed Mallory, could she forgive him?
She searched her feelings. A kiss might be an accident, a fleeting moment. More than that would be harder to forgive – something planned, something continuous. But regardless of whether she could forgive him, and regardless of what had actually happened, it didn’t matter. She didn’t have any right at all to be jealous of Rav and Mallory when her relationship with Finn Beatha was as complicated as it was – and when she was about to make it much more entangled.
She got to the tube station, lit up like a welcome be
acon, and stood slightly inside to avoid any unwanted attention. Across the river, Greenwich twinkled its lights onto the Thames, but on her side, only a new block of flats in development overlooked her. A gang of drunk kids in their early twenties, boys and girls, wandered along the opposite side of the road and she watched them warily, but they passed the station.
She paced up and down, waiting for Gabriel. When he arrived, twenty minutes later, wearing a black trenchcoat and fedora and carrying a Fortune’s tote bag, she gave him a fierce hug. He hugged her back, surprised.
‘What’s this all about, Faye? Are you okay?’ Gabriel untangled himself from the hug and peered concernedly into her eyes, the fluorescent light of the tube station throwing harsh shadows on her pale cheeks. ‘You’ve been crying.’
She felt the tears well up in her eyes again, but wiped them away. A car’s headlights swept the street outside, and disappeared again, leaving the orange-tinted lights to punctuate the dark.
‘I’m okay. Thanks for coming.’
‘I told you I’d help if you needed it. I’m your friend.’ Gabriel tipped his hat to Faye and handed her the tote bag. ‘All as requested. The lamps are battery powered, small but surprisingly bright. Don’t worry, I put a lighter and some real candles in there as well.’
‘Thanks, Gabriel. I appreciate it,’ Faye replied quietly. ‘Come on. Let’s walk along a bit. There’s a sheltered part of the beach just around the corner; the wall means if anyone comes along, which I doubt, we won’t be seen.’
‘Right you are.’ He linked his arm in hers, and they crossed the road into the shadows.
Thirty-Five
‘I assume you’ve checked the tide times.’ Gabriel fell into step with her as they walked along the deserted river; in the distance, London droned its industrial hum. ‘Nothing worse than starting a ritual and being flooded out halfway through. Many a city witch has soaked their shoes or worse, all for not checking basic information.’
‘I’m not a city witch,’ Faye reminded him, smiling. ‘So, you not up to anything else tonight?’
‘Just hanging with my harem of sexy vampires, but when I got your text, I sent them back to their crypt.’
‘That’s good of you.’ Faye grinned, despite her mood.
‘I’m honoured to be called out,’ he replied, seriously. ‘So. What’s this all about?’
They turned the corner; the wall between the pathway and the short, muddy London beach below was exactly as Faye remembered it from when she and Rav had walked this way before. It was structured in such a way that it afforded a few metres of privacy for anyone behind it, facing the river. Until she saw it again, it hadn’t occurred to her that the space might also be ideal for other people looking to avoid being noticed in the middle of the night, but it was deserted.
‘Nice spot to get out of reality for a while,’ Gabriel commented, as if he was reading her thoughts. ‘Drugs or magic. Your choice.’
‘Hmmm,’ Faye was distracted, looking up at the moon, which was a slim crescent in the winter sky; though it was dry now, the rain clouds were massing again. ‘Not sure how much time we’ve got until it tips it down again.’
‘Right. And this is where you tell me what’s going on before I have to ask you for the sixtieth time.’ Gabriel raised his eyebrow questioningly. ‘Come on, Faye. This isn’t normal, even for witches. You ask me to meet you in a dodgy part of East London in the middle of the night at late notice. You’re on your own and you’ve been crying. What’s up?’
‘I’m going to summon Finn Beatha. I’m going to tell him that I want to be his lover again, and let him take me to Murias. And when I get there, I’m going to find Aisha and rescue her,’ Faye replied.
She watched his face for incredulousness, but Gabriel held her eyes with only a frank curiosity.
‘Right.’
‘You’re not… shocked?’
‘Faye, I’m the owner of a magic bookshop. Ritual magic, summoning demons, past life regression… it’s literally my daily bread. No, I respect your decision. But when we spoke about this before, you didn’t see it as an option. Because of Rav.’ Gabriel buried his chin into his scarf for warmth.
Faye looked away. ‘That’s… not an issue any more,’ she said, not wanting to talk about it.
‘What does that mean?’ he asked.
‘It means I’ve split up with Rav,’ she shot back.
‘Whoa. No need to be angry at me.’ Gabriel held out his hands as if for protection.
Faye sighed. ‘Sorry. It’s just been… quite a night.’
‘What did he do? Do you need me to… I don’t know. Rough him up?’ Gabriel was frowning in concern at her; despite herself, she laughed.
‘Rough him up? Really?’
Gabriel made a face. ‘Look. Just because I’m a snappy dresser doesn’t mean I can’t bring the heat when I need to.’ He grimaced theatrically at Faye.
‘Wow. Was that your war face? I think I’ll be okay, but thanks.’ She shook her head, smiling for a moment. ‘Listen,’ she continued. ‘I could do with someone in my corner. But not about Rav. I mean… if the ritual… goes wrong.’
‘Goes wrong? In what way?’
‘If I can’t get out. If his power is too strong. Finn could make me forget everything – you, Aisha, this world, everything. It’s a risk.’
‘What do you want me to do if it does? Go wrong, I mean,’ Gabriel asked.
‘Find a way to call me back. Get the coven together if you have to. But don’t, whatever you do, come after me,’ Faye said, grimly.
First, create the environment for the Queen of your chosen element. Faye had committed Grandmother’s words to memory: a ritual written at the back of her personal book of magic, what modern witches called a Book of Shadows. However, Moddie and Faye had always referred to it as Grandmother’s grimoire; a handwritten book of charms and spells passed down from one generation of Morgan women to the next.
To summon Her from her home element, you must create a ritual space of high vibration. Ideally, conduct the summoning as close to the right element as possible.
She knelt down, putting the bag on the mud and taking the tools from it. She set the four battery lamps in a circle, north, east, south and west, and flicked them on. Their soft yellow glow lit the shoreline around them and cast an oily glitter on the dirty Thames water. Oh well, Faye thought; it’s water. I hope it’s enough. Water was Finn’s element, no matter how polluted. And, she reminded herself, the Thames might not be as romantic a stretch of water as the sea at Black Sands Beach at Abercolme, or elsewhere on the stark, rugged Scottish coastline, but it was ancient. In fact, one of its old names was the Isis, named for the Egyptian goddess of magic.
She handed a blackened abalone shell to Gabriel, who placed a charcoal disc inside it and lit it so that the disc flamed with a red line of fire, permeating it with a bright heat. From a bag he sprinkled some loose incense on the smoking disc; immediately, the smell of frankincense and copal filled the night. Taking a cup from the bag, he went to the river’s edge and scooped some water into it, bringing it back and placing it carefully by their feet. She still felt sick, but she ignored it.
‘Cast the circle.’ Faye indicated that Gabriel should take the incense around the circle and charge it with the power of air. Following him, she lit a candle inside a small storm-lamp and blessed the circle with the power of fire. Without being told, Gabriel took the cup of river water and sprinkled it around the circle; Faye followed, tracing a line in the muddy sand for earth.
Dance or pace out the circle clockwise and then pace into the centre of the circle as if in a spiral. When at the centre of the circle, call out their full name three times. Your calling should be urgent and passionate, from the heart. Repeat this process, walking the spiral in and out and calling the name, three times.
‘Call in the elements?’ Gabriel asked, but she shook her head.
‘Only water. That’s what we want, the High King of Murias, faerie realm of water. We put all
our focus on him,’ Faye replied, remembering Grandmother’s spidery writing. ‘Remember, same as before. We walk inwards in a spiral, call out his name at the centre, and then spiral out again. Three times. Then I’m going to call him.’ Gabriel nodded.
She swallowed nervously. Was she ready to see Finn again? Was she ready for his power; the power that he held over her? She wasn’t sure, but it was too late now. She had to save Aisha.
Faye held onto the anger she’d felt just earlier; anger would help her navigate Finn and Murias. If she held onto its sharp clarity, it would help her. She had Lyr’s crystal in her bag; she got it out and stuffed it inside her bra, hoping it would be protection enough against his enchantment.
‘All right. I remember what to do.’ Gabriel nodded. Faye took a deep breath and focused her thoughts on Finn Beatha. Finn, hear me. Come to me, she thought, and started pacing the circle.
‘Finn Beatha, High King of Murias, Faerie Kingdom of Water; Master of the Cup, Emperor of undine, nixie, sprite, kelpie, frog, fish and water-serpent, come to me!’ Faye called out the words that felt right at the centre of the circle; Gabriel echoed her, his low voice vibrant in the night air. They repeated the process once and then once more.
Overhead, the clouds rolled across the moon; rain was coming. Faye stood at the centre of the circle, drawing power up from the earth and into her body in a line of gold filament, feeling it fill her, ground her into the earth. At the same time, she closed her eyes and imagined the strange, alien silver magic of the stars streaming into her.
Finn Beatha, I beseech you, enter the space I have prepared for you
Finn Beatha, I would love you with my mind, my heart and my body
Finn Beatha, I summon you from your Kingdom
I offer something of mine that I can give freely; this is the exchange
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