by HDA Roberts
"No," she said, walking towards me, "I can't believe they actually..."
Her eyes were suddenly blazing, her fury on full display as she looked me over.
"Cathy, could you give us a sec?" I asked.
She nodded, walking past Hopkins and towards Bill's room.
"How?" she asked, "How did they get you? Kraab was unspecific."
"I have a question for you first," I said as neutrally as I could. I still didn't believe that Hopkins had done what Jocelyn had said she had, but I had to put the question to her, for my own peace of mind if nothing else.
"What?" she asked impatiently.
"I was at a gathering last night. I'm assuming that's where I was spotted by the people that did this, but I can't be sure."
"Gathering?"
"Yes, hosted by Thorne."
"You shouldn't have gone to that! If you'd have mentioned it, I'd have told you that!"
"Can't disagree, in hindsight. But that's not what I wanted to ask about."
"Then what?" more impatience.
"While I was there, I just happened to run into Jocelyn," I said as nonchalantly as I could.
The reaction was obvious and immediate. She went pale and even took a step away from me, as if I'd slapped her.
And I thought having my face carved up by lunatics hurt.
This was worse.
"So, it's true then?"
"I'm not sure what you-"
"Don't," I said, a little harder than I'd meant to, "Don't even try. Just answer my question. Did you tell Jocelyn to break my heart? Did you tell her to use my brother to do it?"
Hopkins looked down, no doubt trying to look contrite.
"I did it to protect you."
"Don't bother," I said, my voice icy, "We're done."
"What?" she asked, looking up again.
"You and I, we're done. No doubt I'm stuck with you as an English teacher, but that's the extent to which I'm willing to interact with you."
"Mathew, please, this isn't necessary, if you'll just let me explain-"
"No, no more explanations," I said, trying to keep the tremor from my voice, "I trusted you, and you destroyed me. I want nothing more to do with you. With any of you."
"Any of us?" she asked with a hurt expression on her face. I didn't let it affect me.
"The Conclave, the Archons, any of it, any of you. I'm done, you can all go straight to Hell."
She stepped back, seemingly shaken.
"But..." I walked past her before she could speak again.
"No buts. You were a friend, and you tore me apart. I can't trust anything you have to say, and I won't be a part of whatever new plan you have to screw me over."
"It wasn't like that!" she said, her voice shaking with grief which I knew had to be false.
"Of course not," I said in a voice thick with irony and heavy with disappointment. I let the door shut behind me as I walked away.
I missed Magic Class that night. I wouldn't be going back. I met the Hellstroms while I was out and about and we ignored each other, which worked for me. It was about half past nine, and I was sitting in the square with my friends; Cathy looked troubled.
"Want to talk about it?" I asked her.
"No," she said, an obvious lie.
"You can tell me anything."
She seemed to think for a moment, and then she turned to me.
"If Hopkins hadn't done what she'd done, you'd have cast the Severing, and you'd have lost us all. We wouldn't have this if it wasn't for her. So why are you so mad? Is it Jocelyn?" she asked, her voice trembling a bit at the end.
"Cathy," I said, taking her hand, "I don't give a crap about Jocelyn. No matter what Hopkins told her to do, she was still willing to do it. No, what I'm so hurt by was the fact that I trusted Hopkins and she..."
I took a breath, gathering my thoughts. This wasn't the easiest thing to talk about, or even articulate properly.
"She was the first Magician I ever thought was worth making a friend of, and she arranged for me to be hurt worse than I've ever been in my whole life. I don't know what she thought she was doing, or even if she really was trying to help in some twisted way, but I do know that she made it so that I thought Des was beyond saving. I'd thought it was our link driving him mad, that the Severing couldn't help anymore."
I stopped, looking down, suddenly feeling very tired, "I was so desperate not to lose you, and Bill, my parents, Tethys, Cassandra, even Hopkins herself that when I saw those two together, and even as my heart felt like it was being ripped out of my chest, a small part of me was thinking 'Thank God! I don't have to lose the people I love anymore', and that disgusts me. I let Des go insane because I was selfish. I was just looking for an excuse, and I hate her because she gave it to me. And now I can't even look myself in the mirror without remembering that."
"Oh, Matty," Cathy said, tears in her eyes as she held me.
Bill looked away like a true best friend does, patting my shoulder once before focussing on his book and pretending none of this emotional stuff was happening.
"But, I'd happily go through it all over again, knowing that it brought us here," I whispered, squeezing her hand, she smiled, "But that doesn't mean I'll ever trust her again. Whatever she and her people are after, it's not for my good, I know that for sure."
Cathy nodded and kissed my cheek, smiling again.
"Mathew?" Hopkins said from nearby.
Oh, for heaven's sake, that woman was like Beetlejuice; say her name and she just pops up...
"Yes Miss Hopkins?" I said, taking the effort maintain civility.
"Could I have a word, please?"
"Back in a minute," I said to my friends. I stood and walked over to her.
"The Lifeweaver's here, and she'd like to take a look at your wounds. She's confident she can fix them for you," she said, her smile hopeful and contrite.
"That's a generous offer. But I've decided to go down the surgical path," I said, my voice neutral and very formal, "Please apologise on my behalf for wasting the Lady's time."
Her eyes went wide, "You can't be serious. You'd refuse Lucille's magic just to spite me?"
"No, I'd refuse because I don't trust you. Or anyone you'd recommend. Was there anything else, Miss Hopkins?"
"How long are you going to keep this up? You have responsibilities with the Conclave now, obligations. You can't avoid us forever."
"I don't see it that way," I said, politely, "May I go now?"
"Fine," she replied acidly, "be a child about it."
I held my temper at that, but I ground my teeth, turning my back on her and returning to my friends. She stomped off as I sat down, now back in a thoroughly bad mood.
Chapter 7
English class the next day was somewhat awkward, what with Hopkins being my teacher, but I simply remained polite, and answered every question I was asked promptly and fully (while Bill looked like he was searching for a safe place to duck and cover).
When the class was over, I left before she could ask me to stay, which she did from time to time for a chat; I wasn't having any of it now.
I secured a pass so I could return my white tie outfit, and rediscovered the Fairy Queen's note in the pocket. I'd completely forgotten about that...
And whatever it was, I was supposed to be there tonight! I Googled the address, and found it to be a field just outside a small village, thirty miles West of Stonebridge. I could be there in less than an hour, maybe forty-five minutes, bearing in mind my navigational inefficiencies. But that was for later.
I spent the day doing school things, apart from those far superior times I was doing Cathy things. She expressed her... displeasure at my going off into the night to meet with another woman. I explained that we were different species, and that the Sidhe considered humans to be lower life forms, which perked her right up.
I dressed in my usual 'stupid activities' clothes, consisting of a dark hoody, comfortable trousers, heavy walking shoes and a satchel with some essentials
in it. I kissed Cathy goodnight promising to text her when I got back, no matter the time, and took a nap before leaving.
I flew high to get my bearings, and England twinkled in the night as my shadows carried me North-West, straight for Little Persworth which wasn't much more than a sleepy little hamlet with a few houses, a tiny village green, and a rundown village shop.
I followed the map, and landed gently in the indicated field, checking around with Mage Sight, but finding nothing untoward. I let out a breath and conjured a shadow to sit in while I waited. I would have sat on the ground, but it was wet and muddy, and my clothes were clean for a change.
At midnight, on the dot, there was a little pulse of energy and Grontor was suddenly sitting in front of me.
"Good evening, Magician," he said, bowing his doggy head.
"And to you," I replied, standing up so I could bow in turn.
"No doubt you'd like to know why her majesty summoned you?"
"She mentioned innocent lives."
"Indeed. Many," he said, his voice descending into a growl, "One of your people has started taking Fae."
"A Magician? Is he insane?"
You do not mess with the Fae. You certainly don't kidnap them! They don't like it, and they hold epic grudges.
"Apparently. And he's using the Black to do it, and in our Realm, too. He must be stopped, and we dare not act."
"Why? It would seem you'd make paste out of a Magician who'd decided to act in your kingdoms."
"He has the daughter of Queen Adriata hostage. We go near him and he kills her; no hesitation. Then he burns down his fortress, his captives with it, and leaves."
"Adriata? Isn't she the Unseelie queen?"
He nodded.
"Oh, that poor idiot. Even if he wins, he loses."
"Yes, but we dare not wait for him to finish what he's doing. More than two dozen creatures have gone missing. Many may already be dead."
"Why me? Why not ask an Archon? I know they'd help. Probably."
"Your heart is both an open book and wound, Magician. You don't believe that they'd do so. And besides, the present Archons have sworn an oath never to enter either of the Fae Realms; it would be an act of war. The rest of your kind are... not to be trusted with the Black. And none can use the shadow like you. None would be able to protect themselves like you can," he said, his voice growing a little worried.
"You don't need to convince me, I'm just curious. You had me at prisoner, I don't approve of that."
He smiled, "We know, Magician. Queen Elora saw your soul. She believes you to be a good man. A protector. She trusts you in this."
"I should warn you, I'm not a trained Battle Mage and I have no experience in hostage rescue, not really."
"The man is sloppy, foolish and vain. He defends only against the Fae. He isn't expecting another of his kind. Strike hard and fast for the princess and you should succeed. He is far more likely to kill her than his other prisoners, so she should be rescued first. He's also less likely to slay the others out of hand because he's using them for something, we don't know what. You must stop it; even if that means ending their lives."
"I don't kill. Not for anything."
He looked me over for a long moment before nodding.
"Perhaps we did choose correctly. Are you ready?"
"I don't suppose you'd be willing to let me call for a little help? There are people I can trust."
"No. It won't do, not for this. Nobody else can be trusted with the Princess."
He coughed and a stone landed on the ground next to my feet.
"Give that to her, and she will be safe," he said.
I nodded, picking up the slightly slimy thing. I tucked it into a pocket.
"How do I get back?" I asked.
"Call my name; I will be nearby, watching."
"Is there any help coming? In case I should need it?"
"I'm sorry, Magician, we dare not use our magic within a mile of the place for fear of his wards. Nasty, dirty, ugly-human things."
"Hey," I protested.
"Apologies, but your magic is filthy."
"Moving on," I said as patiently as I could, "what do you know about the Magician?"
"He never leaves the house, as far as we know, but that doesn't mean much, as our Sight can't penetrate the building. He must leave at some point to collect more prisoners."
"How strong? What's his affinity?"
"I don't know. We haven't laid eyes on him."
"So, there could be more in there than just him?" I asked.
"No, just him, Queen Elora is certain of that much."
I sighed and nodded, "Alright, I'll do my best, but I can't promise a positive outcome here. I'm not trained for any of this."
"You are the right person, Magician," he said simply, turning around. He seemed to focus intently on a spot in front of him. Energy like lightning arced between his upswept ears and a portal opened. This one was different to the others I'd seen. It was thicker, ragged at the edges, it practically bulged with energy.
Grontor led the way and I followed, stepping onto a beautiful meadow covered with wild flowers of blue and yellow, surrounded by tall trees in a hundred beautiful shades of green. A brilliant sun shone down, warm and pleasant; there wasn't a cloud in the blue sky. It smelled of flowers and grass, with the underlying scent of trees and wet earth. It was idyllic. And so quiet, the chirp of a bird, the rustle of leaves. Not a car, or a voice, nothing to break the perfect serenity.
The portal closed behind me, and a sudden wave of nausea surged through my belly. I had just enough time to turn my head so as not to vomit all over the Fairy-dog.
"Ah, perhaps I should have mentioned that your people don't travel through realms very well the first time," he said, though I'd swear the little bugger was grinning.
"Yes, that might have been useful," I said, spitting a little before pulling a bottle of water from my satchel to rinse out my mouth.
"The house is a mile that way," he said, gesturing with his nose at a point in the woods.
And then he was gone. Cheeky bugger.
I sighed, calling my shadows. They surrounded me, and I darted into the air, quickly heading in the indicated direction, moving close to the treetops.
It didn't take long to find the house, though castle was a better descriptor. It was in the middle of a clearing in the forest, which seemed almost endless, by the way. Trees had been shattered and burned to the ground, which was itself charred and torn up. The house was dark grey and ugly, twisted and crooked, but seemed sturdy. The roof was dark grey slate, worn and grimy. It was huge, easily two hundred metres across and fifty wide, with three stories along with turrets and a crenulated front. The windows were small, too small to get through, more like arrow slits, making it look like a fortress.
The place was certainly old, but transplanted here, rather than built. It didn't feel like it belonged, right down to the building materials. And that meant that there was serious power behind this man, whoever he was; shifting an entire building through dimensions (and keeping it intact) wasn't an easy job, and this one had been done recently judging by the residual Magic in the air.
I cast Mage Sight and nearly threw up again. The wards around that place were hideous, abominable things. They were obviously meant for this world, but they were so... wrong, just wrong. I couldn't even tell for certain what they did, but they just seemed like perversions of life, an antithesis to the wonder and natural beauty that surrounded me. I felt thoroughly inclined to knock the place down.
I shoved those feelings aside and scanned the building carefully, looking for signs of life. I found only one, at the far end of the closest wing to me, a Sidhe; probably the princess I was looking for.
Now, how to get to her?
I picked up a rock and tossed it at the wards. It went right through without any problems, but I wasn't taking chances. I conjured shields, layer upon layer, close and powerful, hopefully proof against just about anything.
I t
ook a breath and stepped through, expecting the worst, but nothing happened. Grontor was right about those things being designed for Fairies, then...
I let out a sigh and headed for the house. The door was locked, but said lock wasn't even warded, and thus easy to pick with Magic. So far, so good! I turned left and headed into the house proper, straight for the Sidhe aura. The inside was dilapidated to a shocking degree, with wallpaper peeling, mould everywhere; the carpets were threadbare and torn; no lights shone. It all combined to make the place look abandoned and neglected. I followed the corridors, avoiding rooms as I saw traces of enchantments and spellwork everywhere; no need to poke any bears, at least until the prisoners were safe.
The door to the Princess' jail was black and fresh-painted with gold filigree around it. This one was warded, the spell simple, but potent. The core was Flesh Magic, which would probably melt my face off if I wasn't ready.
I cast a chemical neutralising spell which would render the energy inert, and triggered the ward. A green blast smacked into my counter-spell, and the two energies cancelled each other out. I checked again for traps, just to be sure, and then I used a lock-pick spell. There was a dull clack as the door unlocked.
I turned the handle and carefully opened the door.
So... not a prison.
The room was wide and opulent, with comfortable furnishings, shelves full of books and heavy, expensive drapes in front of the arrow slits. There was a bright lamp on the wall, and the girl was reclining on a sofa, a book in her hand. The girl... bloody hell. I hesitate to use a word like perfect... but damn if she wasn't. Dark, slightly curling hair framed a delicate, heart shaped face; she had red lips, large, shockingly dark eyes and skin the pale of fresh milk. Her body was thin, but not overly so, there was just the right amount of subtle curve to her. She wore a light dress, black and expensive with jewels sown into the fabric.
"If you've come back without my pomegranates again, Human, I'm throwing my book at your fat head," she said, not looking up.
"I think you have me confused with someone else," I said as politely as I could.
She looked at me, her eyes locking with mine. She stared for a long moment; I saw her swallow, her breath catch and her expression softened ever so slightly into a warm smile. And just like that it was gone, and a sneer was firmly in place.