by Helen Harper
He pulled the dustbin lid up a bit higher, concealing his face.
‘You know,’ I said, ‘just because you can’t see me doesn’t mean I can’t see you.’
He let out a petrified squeak. A moment later, he threw the lid on the ground and darted off in the opposite direction.
For an old guy, he was a speedy bugger. Mouth open, I watched him for a second before launching myself after him. My delay meant that he almost managed to disappear after he turned right at the end of the road. I pumped my arms and legs; no way was I going to let an arsebadger of a pensioner beat me in a race.
He veered in and out of the wandering pedestrians. At first I thought he was running randomly, panic making him head any which way. When I caught sight of the bus stop ahead – and the waiting bus – I realised he was cannier than I’d expected and he had a plan. He was going to jump on the bus to get away from me. Well, I was wise to him. Nobody escaped the Madhatter.
I put on an extra spurt of speed. He was almost at the bus – but so was I. Even if he managed to clamber aboard, he wouldn’t have the time to explain to the driver that a crazed, leather-bound, S&M-inclined woman was after him before I joined him and yanked him off again.
Twenty metres. Nineteen. Eighteen. A woman with a pram appeared out of nowhere and I screamed at her to get out of my way. She froze. Cursing, I leapt round her. Mr Tail was at the bus. Gasbudlikins.
I threw myself forward, realising too late that he’d not been aiming for the double decker after all. Right in front of it – and concealed by its large shape – was a taxi rank. As I ran past the front of the bus, the old man slammed the door of the nearest taxi and it took off.
Yelling in frustration, I jumped into the next taxi. ‘Follow that cab!’
The taxi driver slowly put down his newspaper with its half-finished crossword. ‘Pardon?’ Then he turned and looked at me, tired eyes taking in my outfit. ‘Nice clothes!’
‘Follow that fucking taxi!’ I screeched.
The driver’s amusement at my clothing vanished. ‘You’re not James Bond. We’re in Manchester, not Monaco. Get out.’
Belatedly it occurred to me that screaming an order might be my best move. The taxi driver pointed at the door. I looked over his shoulder and out of the front window. The old man had already disappeared.
I ground my teeth. The only good thing about any of this was that no one had been around to witness my humiliation. It wasn’t worth arguing with the driver, not any longer, so I did as he asked and stumbled out.
That was when I caught sight of Artemesia, standing on the other side of the busy road, laughing.
Chapter Seven
We sat down at a table towards the back of the coffee shop, well away from the windows in case any Fey loyal to Rubus might pass by. I ordered a black coffee, figuring that it was a beverage that would match my dark, twisted soul. However, as soon as Artemesia’s hot chocolate with marshmallows, cream and sprinkles arrived, I immediately regretted my choice. The moment she got up to use the loo, I swapped the drinks around. I managed three gulps of cocoa goodness before she came back. She gave me enough of a glare to compel me to swap them back. Ho-hum.
‘I’ve not found anything to restore your memory,’ she told me. ‘I have a few ideas but nothing definite. You’re welcome to experiment with what I’ve come up with so far but I should warn you that there will be side-effects.’
She said this last part so casually that I could only assume the side-effects were horrific. ‘Such as?’ I asked, wanting to be sure.
‘Definitely paralysis. Possibly loss of hearing.’ She smirked. ‘And perhaps the added bonus of extra facial hair.’
Lovely. ‘I’ll pass, thanks.’
She shrugged. ‘Your choice.’
I toyed with my teaspoon. ‘I met Carduus, your uncle.’
Artemesia went very still.
‘He ran some tests on me. I also told him and Rubus where your shed was.’
She didn’t blink. ‘I expected as much.’
‘I only told them because I knew you didn’t trust me and that you’d already have moved on,’ I said, earnestly.
‘So what you’re saying is that you betrayed my trust because I didn’t trust you?’
I wrinkled my nose. ‘Uh, sort of. It was a calculated risk.’
Artemesia’s gaze was steady. ‘A calculated risk is fine when you’re the one taking that risk. You were risking my life, not your own.’
On that point, I wasn’t going to back down. ‘If I can get Rubus to trust me, it’ll be worth it.’
She shook her head. ‘He’s never going to trust you fully. He never trusted the old you fully. He’s certainly not going to trust the “new” you.’
I took a sip of my coffee. It seemed that no one fully trusted me. To be honest, I didn’t fully trust myself. But this was now – what about back then?
I squinted. I needed more information. ‘What do you mean he never trusted the old me? He called me “my Madrona”. Well, his Madrona.’ I scrunched up my face. ‘You know what I mean.’
She sighed. ‘He wants to own you. He probably believes he owns you. A lion keeper in a zoo probably thinks the same about his lion. But that doesn’t mean the keeper would fully trust a wild animal.’
I preferred the straightforward lion analogy to the wild animal one. ‘I certainly feel like I’m caged up,’ I admitted. ‘Even if Rubus is no longer locking me in my room.’
Artemesia grimaced. ‘Locking you up?’
I smirked. ‘I’m the Queen of the Jungle. He’s scared of me.’
‘Except he’s the emperor,’ she pointed out grimly. ‘Don’t mistake fear for wariness. Or cunning. Look, this is only the second time I’ve met you so I’m going on hearsay rather than solid fact.’
I nodded and waved a hand at her. ‘Idle gossip goes further than most people realise. I understand its usefulness. Go on.’
‘Everyone was surprised when you ran to Rubus. We all knew about his rivalry with Morgan. Most Fey put it down to typical sibling rivalry – that kind of behaviour is hardly unique. We also all knew that Rubus had been angling after you for years. You were known for being quite vocal in your refusals.’
I clasped my chest with both hands. ‘Me? Vocal? I can’t believe it.’
Artemesia smiled. ‘Anyway, one minute you were all googly-eyed with Morgan and there was talk of a wedding.’
I blinked. ‘Really?’
‘It was a big deal. Everyone wanted to know who was special enough to get an invitation. It’s not easy for us being here, you know. Anything that can take our minds off Mag Mell and home is a good thing.’
‘Like pixie dust,’ I agreed.
She tutted. ‘Not like pixie dust. That’s different. It’s an addictive drug that you use to get people to do whatever you want. A wedding is happy and fun.’
‘Drugs are happy and fun.’ I paused. ‘Until they’re soul-destroying and family-wrecking and mind-eating and body-killing. Then again, I’ve heard that about marriage too.’
‘Indeed.’ Artemesia raised her eyebrows and watched me for a moment without speaking. No wonder she was an apothecary-scientist type of faery; I felt like a bug under a microscope every time she looked at me. ‘Word is that you popped the question. You got down on one knee and Morgan agreed.’
My mouth felt suddenly dry. ‘Oh.’
‘The next minute you’d abandoned him and were shacking up with Rubus.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘It all happened very quickly.’
I couldn’t fathom it. In certain lights, it could be argued that Rubus was the better looking of the two. Plus, while Morgan was no timid mouse, Rubus did appear more self-assured. Ostensibly, he also had greater power because more Fey seemed to trail round after him – and not all of them were dust addicts. But Morgan was kind. He had a way of looking at you as if you were the only person in the world. Every faery had green eyes but Morgan’s contained flecks of warmth. He would risk his life for a stranger for no other reason th
an because it was right thing to do. He would kiss me in a hard and possessive way, thrusting my body up against a wall, one hand in my hair while the other slid down my body, ripping off my clothes, cupping my breasts, his skin hot against mine, his cock pressing…
‘You’re turning red,’ Artemesia commented.
I coughed. ‘Everything you’ve said suggests to me that Rubus would be more inclined to trust me. If I abandoned his brother for him, surely I’d deserve to be in the inner circle.’
She shrugged. ‘All I’m saying is what I heard. Rubus apparently kept you on a very short leash. He frequently had people checking up on you. You were his best pixie-dust dealer but he still shut you out of meetings and still turned up at odd moments to make sure you were doing what you were supposed to be doing.’
I scratched my head. Hmmm. ‘This has to be because I was a spy infiltrating Rubus’s ranks for the well-being of the world and he already had suspicions about my true nature.’
‘So what’s different now?’
I grinned at her. ‘Now I’m a super spy.’
Artemesia rolled her eyes. ‘Whatever. It didn’t look like you were doing a great job of spying when I saw you out on the street. You were flapping your arms and running after an old man.’
‘An old man with unbelievable sprinting prowess who’d been crawling around the Manchester rooftops in order to follow me.’
‘See? He’s probably another one of Rubus’s lot.’
‘No.’ I shook my head. ‘Something about this guy was different.’
‘Green eyes?’
‘I didn’t get close enough to see.’ I gnawed my bottom lip. ‘Keep looking for that amnesia cure,’ I told her. ‘I’ll keep working on Rubus. He’s planning something, I can tell.’
‘I’m not your servant.’
I stood up and looked at her assessingly. ‘Come on, Arty,’ I purred. ‘This is fun, isn’t it? Every good spy has a team of crackheads behind her.’
She frowned. ‘Do you mean crackpots?’
I grinned. ‘If the shoe fits…’
‘The only crackpot around here is you,’ Artemesia muttered. ‘And I’m not on your team. I wouldn’t trust you if you were the last faery in this demesne. I certainly wouldn’t work for you.’
I supposed I couldn’t blame her for that. She’d come around, though. I curtsied in her direction and left. After all, I still had a lot of super-spy work to do.
***
Rubus’s lair was eerily deserted when I returned. I’d half expected him to be stomping around the corridors and bellowing but there were only a few harried Fey wandering around, each apparently with their own jobs and tasks to complete.
Rubus had instructed me to locate the pixie dust I’d apparently lost and I supposed I could venture out again and at least pretend to look for it. Maybe I’d dumped it near the golf course where I’d woken up; it wouldn’t hurt to head back there to look for the darned stuff. I didn’t actually want to find it, though. Once I had it back in my possession, Rubus would make me go out and sell it not to make money but to create an even larger army of thralled faeries. I’d delay doing that for as long as I possibly could.
Taking advantage of the lack of people, I ambled around and poked into corners. I was fairly circumspect; I didn’t try to break into Rubus’s bedroom or throne room. I avoided the laboratory and anywhere that might appear important. It was possible that this quiet time had been engineered as another test to catch me out so all I did was wander from room to room and get a good idea of my surroundings so I could map out the place in my head. In any case, the Fey hangers-on who stayed here were remarkably thrifty and possessed very few belongings. You’d think this was a priests’ hangout rather than a villains’. It was all terribly dull.
In one of the larger rooms there were a few squashed sofas and a battered television. I sat down and tried to find the remote control so I could watch the local news and see if there was more information about the fire at Chen’s place.
I was just getting comfortable when there was a scratching at the door. I glanced over just as a note was pushed underneath it. I sprang up, grabbed the note and pulled open the door. There wasn’t a soul to be seen.
Puzzled, I unfolded the paper. In the same handwriting as the sycamore papers was a single sentence. L is looking for video evidence. Well, that made zero sense. Video evidence of what?
The only L I could think of was Lunaria. I stared at the piece of paper before remembering the memory stick I’d seen her with earlier in the day. I hadn’t been all that interested at the time, despite my jokes about porn, but perhaps I should have paid more attention.
The joy of skulduggery aside, I had the feeling that I’d done enough today to encourage my friendship with her and invite her confidence. Who wouldn’t want to be pals with me? I’d given her fashion advice; I’d even stepped back to give her the chance to impress Rubus all on her own. I was virtually a selfless martyr and she was lucky to know me. Hadn’t she said ‘best friends forever’ when we said goodbye? Something nauseatingly ridiculous like that. I reckoned I could prevail upon her to spill the beans. With that thought in mind, I ripped the note into tiny pieces and discarded them before heading off in search of her beanpole figure.
Given how quiet it was, I wasn’t sure she was here but I found her without too much trouble. She was in the kitchen with a gigantic tub of ice cream on her lap and a morose expression on her face. ‘Looney Tunes!’ I beamed.
Lunaria barely even glanced up. She huffed, then delved into the tub again for another heaped spoonful. Ah. ‘Did Rubus not like your new look?’
She shoved the spoon into her mouth and sniffed. ‘Said he was busy. Didn’t even remark on it.’ She gestured down at herself. ‘I’m wearing red leather and he couldn’t even be bothered to comment.’
I almost clapped my hands in delight. The scorned woman – what a perfect bonding opportunity. ‘What an arsebadgering bastard,’ I said.
‘He’s not a bastard, he’s wonderful. It’s me who’s the problem.’ She sniffed. ‘If I looked like you, he’d notice me. If Morgan wanted me too, then Rubus’d notice me.’
My heart leapt. ‘Morgan wants me? How do you know?’
Lunaria’s brow furrowed. Oh yes. This conversation wasn’t supposed to be about me. ‘I mean,’ I said, ‘fuck off.’
‘Wh – what?’
I threw my hands up into the air. ‘You heard me. Fuck. Off. You can’t say that about yourself. First of all, you’re gorgeous. Second of all, this has nothing to do with me and nothing to do with appearances. It’s what’s inside that’s important.’
Lunaria stared at me. ‘You sound like a Hallmark card.’
‘I know. It’s disgusting. I just vomited in my mouth. But it’s also true. Screw Rubus. If he’s not going to see you for the wonderful person you are, he’s not worth it.’
‘This is my only chance, Madrona. Once he’s saved us all and we’re back in Mag Mell, he’ll be a hero. He’ll have women throwing themselves at him. If I don’t get him now, I’ll have no chance later.’
Gods save me. I raised my hand to slap her hard on the cheek but unfortunately the damned truce kicked in. The sharp pain that should have brought her to her senses flashed through me.
Lunaria looked aghast. ‘You were going to hit me!’
‘Not hard,’ I lied. ‘And only because you needed it.’ I pointed at her. ‘You’ll have to hit yourself.’
‘Huh?’
‘Go on.’ I mimicked the action for her. ‘Slap your cheek.’
‘You’re crazy.’
‘We all know that already. Go on,’ I said sternly. ‘Do it.’
Unbelievably, she did as I commanded. Her hand left a faint red imprint on her cheek. ‘Ouch,’ she complained.
‘Do you feel better?’
‘No, I just feel sore.’
‘Then do it again.’
She did. This was fun. I wondered idly whether I had the power to encourage Rubus to stab himsel
f. Probably not, but it might be fun trying.
‘I’m not sure this is helping, Madrona.’
‘You’d be surprised. Now, repeat after me: “I am a strong Fey woman who does not need someone like Rubus to affirm my existence”.’
‘I am a strong Fey woman,’ she burbled, ‘who does not need Rubus to affirm my existence.’
‘Perfect.’ I gave her a hard look. ‘He doesn’t appreciate you, you know. I’m sure he’s got you running around all over town to do his bidding.’
‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘He does.’
When she didn’t elaborate, I prodded further. ‘The things he’s got you doing are probably a waste of your time. You’re too intelligent to be just an errand girl.’
‘Well,’ she demurred, ‘actually he’s got me investigating…’ She stopped in mid-sentence and stared at me.
‘Go on.’
‘No one. I’m not investigating anyone. I…’ Her head swung from side to side. ‘I should go. I promised Carduus I’d help him with a few bits and bobs in his laboratory.’ Before I could think of a way to stop her, she fled.
Gasbudlikins. That hadn’t been helpful other than to highlight the fact that she was tasked with something that I wasn’t supposed to know about. I gnawed the inside of my cheek. I’d have to resort to other methods.
I headed out of the kitchen, double-checking that Lunaria had dashed off in the opposite direction, then I made my way back upstairs to the bedroom area. I wasn’t sure which room was hers but it didn’t take long to work it out. I could immediately rule out the small rooms with clothes littering the floor – she was too proud and keen to please to leave her sleeping area in a mess. I hesitated in one room, wondering if the stuffed teddy bear on the narrow bed could be hers, but the perfume lingering in the air didn’t register.
When I popped my head around the next door along, I knew I’d hit the jackpot. Her room could only be this one – it was the only one with a photo of Rubus beaming down from the wall. There was a faint lipsticked mark on it. I eyed it with some distaste. The shade matched Lunaria’s. She really did have it bad.