by Helen Harper
I realised I also felt good. There was a warmth pulsating through my veins caused not by swallowing the sphere but by the happiness of being back home on my own soil in my own land. I blinked at Morgan who was still watching me. Perhaps for the first time I understood what it meant to be Fey. I understood just why Rubus had been so desperate to get back here.
‘You promise?’ I said, addressing both my father and Morgan. ‘You promise they’re all okay back in Manchester?’
‘They will be.’
Morgan nodded. ‘They might have to adapt to a new world but they’ll be fine.’
Despite their assurances, I felt a sense of foreboding. I pointed across the border towards the ravaged figures of my friends. ‘We still caused that. Faeries invaded their demesne, fucked it up and then left the humans to deal with the fall-out.’
Morgan’s jaw tightened and I could see pain reflected in his face. ‘We can’t go back. The borders are sealed again. Whatever is happening back there, the humans will find a way to deal with it. They usually do.’ He looked around us. ‘And maybe they won’t be completely alone. Not everyone is here,’ he murmured. ‘I don’t see Bego— Timmons, I mean.’
I stiffened, my own head swinging around and searching for him. Morgan was right. There was no sign of the human-loving Fey hotel manager. I crossed my fingers tightly that he was alright. And that if he remained back with the humans, his presence wouldn’t cause any more problems. I scanned the rest of the Fey crowd. I couldn’t tell if anyone else was missing. What I could see, however, sitting quietly in a corner and with Rubus’s head still cradled in her lap, was Lunaria.
‘She killed him,’ I whispered. ‘She killed Rubus. How? How could she break the truce?’
Morgan smiled sadly. ‘She didn’t break the truce. She couldn’t have.’
I watched her for a moment. ‘Of course,’ I breathed. ‘She was worried about Rubus and what would happen to him if his plan succeeded. She killed him in order to save him. It’s a twisted logic, but to Lunaria it made perfect sense. She wasn’t trying to hurt him, not deep down. That’s why she was able to kill him.’ I paused. ‘She’s going to need our help.’
Morgan lifted up his chin. ‘We’ll be right by her side.’
I nodded fervently. ‘We owe her everything.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘We owe you everything.’
I sniffed. Yeah, okay then. ‘That goes without saying.’
With Morgan at one side of me and my father at the other, I pulled my eyes away from the strange diorama of the human world and looked around Mag Mell. Everything seemed brighter. The greens were greener; the sky was bluer. In the distance, a golden city glittered in the sunlight.
‘It’s beautiful here,’ I said, the understatement of the century.
‘We’ve tried so hard to bring you back and to re-open the borders,’ my father said. ‘Nothing worked. It was clearly a terrible malfunction.’
My eyes flew to Morgan’s. Er… ‘It was my fault.’ I looked down awkwardly. ‘Or so Rubus said. I can’t actually remember.’
‘Maddy’s got amnesia,’ Morgan interjected.
My father blinked. ‘Seriously? How did that happen?’
‘Long story.’ I still couldn’t quite look him in the eye.
‘You must remember Mag Mell,’ he said.
‘No.’
‘You must remember me.’
‘No.’
He spread his arms wide. ‘Come on, Maddy. I’m your dad. Not to mention that I’m utterly unforgettable.’ He spun round in a circle for effect.
Morgan leaned in to my ear. ‘The apple didn’t fall far from the tree.’
I tried to smile but couldn’t. I had to tell the truth – the whole truth – and right now before I lost my bottle. ‘I’m the one who made the borders close,’ I said. ‘Apparently I was trying to prove a point.’ My expression soured. ‘And look at what I achieved. Ten years of exile and goodness knows how many catastrophes.’
My father blinked. Then he laughed. ‘Oh, Madrona, darling, you are funny!’
My eyes narrowed. ‘Funny ha ha or funny strange?’
He continued to chuckle. ‘Both. You wouldn’t have had the power to keep the borders closed for more than a day at most. You don’t have the magic to force them shut for a decade. What a thought!’ He shook his head.
I put my hands on my hips. ‘I’ve got plenty of magic!’ I argued.
‘Not that much,’ he said, still amused. He patted my arm. ‘You still have so much to learn. We don’t know what made the borders close but it certainly wasn’t you. All we know is that now they are closed for good.’ He beamed at Morgan and me. ‘It’s probably not a bad thing. I’m going to check on the others. I’ll be right back.’ He ambled off in the direction of the nearest group hug.
‘It was me,’ I said stubbornly. ‘I do have enough magic.’
‘I know,’ Morgan murmured. ‘I don’t think he realises quite how powerful you really are.’
‘Or how foolhardy,’ I added with a dark scowl.
He smiled slightly. ‘It’s not a point I’d continue to argue about, Maddy. Maybe it’s for the best that no-one will actually think it was your fault.’
I glared at him. ‘But it was. I’m going to re-vamp my Madhatter costume. When I’ve got my cape and mask on, people here will see that I’m not to be trifled with.’
‘I can’t imagine that anyone would ever think that.’ He smiled and leaned in, endowing my lips with another kiss. ‘Does it really matter?’
I sighed and thought about it. ‘I guess not,’ I muttered. ‘It just … it just doesn’t seem right that things have ended this easily. That all those people are still going on with their lives back in Manchester and we’re here. What’s Julie going to do now? Or Jodie? How hard did Julie hit her? Is Monroe going to make it?’
Morgan took my arm and gently turned me, then pointed at the border and the flickering view of the human demesne beyond. ‘We can still see them. If they come to Castlefield, they might be able to communicate.’
I watched as Jodie struggled up to her feet and began yelling and gesticulating angrily towards Julie’s crumpled figure. At least I presumed she was yelling. I couldn’t actually hear her. I balled my fists up in frustration. ‘We can’t talk to them.’
‘There’s always sign language,’ Morgan said. ‘We’ve got a lifetime to learn a way to communicate with them.’ There was an intense expression on his face, as if there were something he desperately wanted to ask.
I focused on the silent image of Julie, breathing out as she finally stood up and gazed blindly towards us. Her expression, a grimace of pain and anguish, didn’t change. ‘They can’t see us, Morgan. We can see them but they can’t see us.’
He sighed. ‘No. It doesn’t look like they can.’
I wrinkled my nose. ‘So even sign language is a waste of time. Whatever happens there, we can’t do anything about it. We can’t affect it in any way. We’ll never be able to communicate with them again. And the borders have to remain closed. We can’t afford to re-open them and negatively impact on their demesne again.’
His expression dropped. ‘No.’ He hesitated. ‘I’m sorry.’
A smile spread across my face. It hurt but I gave it my best effort. ‘It’ll be like the world’s greatest television show. We need popcorn. Now.’
Morgan drew me close. ‘You don’t have pretend in front of me, remember?’ he murmured in my ear.
I realised I was shaking. ‘Julie was scared,’ I whispered. ‘It wasn’t her fault.’ I paused. ‘It was her fault but she was only acting on instinct. She’s not evil. She’s really not. She …’
‘Hush,’ he said. ‘I get it. She realised what she’d done right at the end. She knew it was wrong.’
I clenched my fists. ‘Manchester is still in trouble. Whatever daddy dearest over there says, there shouldn’t be magic there. Look at all that blue. They’re going to be in trouble. They’re going to need us.’
‘They’re stronger than you think. They’ll manage. Manchester will manage. Besides, all of them have skills. They can do this without us.’
I certainly bloody hoped so. ‘There’s no choice is there?’
He shook his head. ‘It appears not. But if the city is still standing now, after all that’s just happened, then it’s going to survive.’
I scanned across the flickering images of our friends. I wasn’t the only hero. Morgan was right; Manchester would survive and so would they. Even without me and my fabulousness.
I put my arm round Morgan’s waist and inhaled his scent. ‘For what it’s worth,’ I told him, ‘and to answer your unasked question, yes, I’ll be here by your side making you miserable for a lifetime.’
He didn’t smile back but his eyes lit up with both triumph and delight. I pushed myself onto my tiptoes and went in for a long, deep, slow kiss.
‘I’m sorry about Rubus,’ I said, when we finally broke apart. ‘He was your brother after all.’
Morgan ran a hand through his hair. ‘Is there any other way it could have ended?’
I sighed. ‘I don’t know. I really don’t know.’ I glanced round at Rubus’s old, and now rather forlorn-looking, allies. Their moment of triumph wasn’t quite as sweet as they’d hoped it would be. They weren’t the heroes they’d believed themselves to be. ‘There’s a lot of mending to be done.’
Artemesia appeared beside us. ‘I heard that.’ She drew out a small vial with a colourless liquid inside. ‘It’s lucky I managed to sort this before Rubus pulled all of his crap. There should be enough to do the trick.’
I stared at it. ‘Is that…?’
She nodded. ‘It will restore your memory. I’ve checked and double-checked. Liung spoke the truth. This will do what is needed. Just down it in one and adios amnesia.’
A large part of me didn’t want to. I still had doubts as to who I was and what I was, or what I’d been. I couldn’t be afraid, however. I was the Madhatter.
I took the vial. ‘Before I drink this,’ I said, ‘I have a question for you both. A serious question.’
Morgan stilled. ‘Go on.’
I turned to him with sombre eyes. ‘I swallowed the sphere. It’s inside me right now.’ I pointed to my stomach and dropped my voice. ‘What happens when it comes out the other end?’
Artemesia shrugged. ‘By swallowing it, you halted the magic. When it, uh, ejects itself, it’ll be like it was before. Just hand it over to one of the elders for safekeeping. I imagine it’s already been rendered useless by the journey across the border but it doesn’t hurt to be sure.’
‘Yeah but…’
‘What, Maddy?’ Morgan asked.
‘We’re in Mag Mell. Is there such a thing as double-quilted toilet roll here? I mean, I’ve experienced a ring of fire after a few spicy kebabs but having a magical sphere pop out of my arse brings arsebadgering to a new level. I mean…’
Artemesia made a face and walked off.
Morgan cut me off with another kiss. ‘Maddy,’ he said, ‘shut the gasbudlikins up.’
Thank you so much for reading The Fractured Faery series! I really hope you enjoyed it and all of Madrona’s antics. To find out what happens next for Manchester now that the faeries have gone, look out for my upcoming series CITY OF MAGIC, which will be out towards the end of 2018 if all goes to plan!
Sign up to my newsletter to never miss a new release http://eepurl.com/dtaZEz
In the meantime, if you’re interested in more books, then check out the completed Blood Destiny series. There are five thrilling books which follow Mackenzie Smith, a red-haired, black-tempered young woman who lives with a group of shapeshifters in rural Cornwall. She thinks she’s human but there’s far more to her than meets the eye – and when the Pack Alpha from London pays a visit, sparks certainly fly!
The entire series is available on Kindle Unlimited and to buy on Amazon. The first book, Bloodfire is available here - myBook.to/BloodFire and you can read a sneak peek of the first chapter over the page.
Finally, if you get the chance, it would make a massive difference if you could leave a review on Amazon – feedback is the lifeblood for indie authors like me and is always massively appreciated.
Helen x
BLOODFIRE Sneak Peek - Chapter One
I ran steadily along the length of the beach, just on the edge of the salt foam and odd straggle of seaweed. A few seagulls were keening overhead and the sky was a cloudless azure blue with the light gaze of the morning sun scattered across the ground. My feet pounded into the soft sand, making light indentations that would soon be swept away by the unstoppable force of the sea. It was just the elements and me. Feeling the exhilaration of the moment, I sped up to a sprint until I felt as if I was flying. My heart thudded at a fast yet steady beat and I sucked in the salty air, filling my lungs before exhaling loudly.
Mack.
Go away.
Mack.
Piss off.
MACKENZIE!
I finally slowed and answered. What?
I’m going to check on the eastern perimeter. There have been rumours circling in the village about some strange noises. Will you come with me?
I hesitated, considering whether to put John off or not. It had been quiet lately and the few incidents we’d investigated had turned out to be nothing more than harmless local wildlife. I debated internally for a short moment; I could always stay out here and finish my run instead. Then I gave myself a brief, rueful smile – who was I kidding?
Mackenzie?
I grumbled unconvincingly back at John’s vaguely irritated nudge.
Way Directive 22, Mack.
Totalitarian dictatorship more like, I snorted mentally back at him. I’m on my way.
The alpha’s word is law. There was more than a hint of self-deprecation apparent in his Voice before he broke off the mental link.
Thinking to myself that John was lucky that I was always a stickler for the rules – well, some of them at least – I moved away from the shore and headed into the forest, jogging through the trees. Dry pine needles crunched satisfyingly under my feet. I leapt over a few moss-covered rocks and headed towards the east. Although the keep’s grounds were officially around ten acres, we considered all of Cornwall our playing ground, at least up to the border with Devon where another pack took over. The eastern perimeter he had referred to wasn’t that far away, however, just the far side of Bodmin Moor. A few years ago we’d been in a bit of trouble around the moor because some bright spark with a digital camera had snapped Alexander in his animal form. He was just a kid so fortunately hadn’t matured to full size yet – and the photo was blurry enough to cause doubt and dissension amongst those who saw it – but the gutter press had a field day waving it around and extravagantly spreading tales about the ‘Beast’.
They’d had a similar problem since the Eighties in neighbouring Exmoor. Apparently, when the marines were initially sent in to track it down, the commanding officer, who was never able to catch what he thought was just a dumb animal, had commented on the beast’s ‘almost human intelligence’. Hah! Still, with Alexander, we’d been lucky that there had been a particularly thorny problem in London at the time involving some water-wights terrorising pleasure boats on the Thames, or the Brethren, the shapeshifters’ equivalent to the Royal Family and the government all rolled into one, would have come storming down. Instead they sent down some mages who waved sticks around for a few days, warning everyone that if the very public rumours continued then Cornish heads would roll. Or so I heard. John had me hide in the basement the entire time. Fortunately, however, it didn’t last too long. I suspected that Cornwall was considered too parochial for the Brethren to bother themselves about, even with such a shocking breach of protocol. Although word was that when they went to Exmoor after the first beast sightings, they had ripped the offending shifter apart, scattering his body parts across the whole of the United Kingdom as a warning.
I jogged along a small brook until
it curved upstream towards the hills, then hopped over it and headed towards where I knew John would be. I finally found him crouched in a clearing, not far from the edges of the moor.
“You sound like an elephant running through those trees,” he complained.
I put my hands on my hips and raised an eyebrow. “Is that the thanks I get for interrupting my run to come and investigate the over-energetic dalliances of some bunny rabbits?”
“That was one time.” He straightened up. His salt-and-pepper beard and bald head, along with the laughter lines around his eyes, hinted at the wisdom and experience contained within that smart mind of his. John had been the alpha in Cornwall for thirty-two years, and was universally liked and respected by the pack, but that didn’t mean that I couldn’t still have a little fun.
“So what is it this time? Don’t tell me, I’ve got it, a sheep has gotten lost on the moor and its bleating is terrifying the farmers.”
He held out his palm. There was a small, shiny black object resting in the middle. “I wish that’s what it was,” he said grimly. “Take a look at this.”
I picked it up from his hand and rolled it through my fingers. It was almost entirely weightless and very smooth, and there was something else. I held it up to my ear and heard an odd chiming sound.
John looked at me sharply. “You can hear it?”
“Sure,” I said, surprised.
“Describe it to me.”
“You mean you can’t hear it?” I was puzzled. Compared to my own hearing, John could hear a leaf drop from fifty paces away. “It’s like bells, only not. It’s more continuous than that. Like a never-ending echo of a chime.”
He pursed his lips, clearly unhappy. “It’s a wichtlein’s stone.”
“A mine fairy’s? They knock three times and a miner drops dead?”
“You’ve been reading too many fairy tales. Wichtleins do sometimes hang around old mines and tease the men who work there, but more often than not they are true harbingers of evil. I don’t think one has been seen in the British Isles for more than a century.”