by Helen Harper
I half turned my head, as if glancing down the street. ‘Is that Rubus over there?’
She immediately stopped and whipped round. ‘Where?’ she demanded. ‘Where is my love bunny?’
I waved my hand vaguely in the direction I wanted to go. ‘Over there. I might have been mistaken…’ I barely managed to finish my sentence before she took off.
I caught up to her when she paused in front of a guitar-strumming busker. She was still scanning the street as if Rubus would appear at any moment but she also looked deflated. ‘He’s gone, hasn’t he?’ Her bottom lip jutted out and started to tremble. ‘He ran away from me.’
Gasbudlikins. She was going to have a complete meltdown. ‘It wasn’t him,’ I said hastily. ‘I made a mistake.’
Her head drooped. ‘He doesn’t want me.’
‘Then he’s a fool.’
‘He didn’t even notice my new outfit. Skin-tight red leather and he didn’t even say I looked good.’
Wow. She had it bad. ‘Pull yourself together,’ I snapped. ‘You’re obviously too good for him. It’s his loss, not yours.’
Lunaria sniffed. ‘I’m too good?’
‘Of course!’
The busker, who’d given up strumming to watch our byplay, apparently agreed. ‘She’s right,’ he said. ‘Whoever this guy is, he’s not worth it.’
‘I want to be a good faery,’ she told him. ‘I am a good faery.’
I gave the busker a tight smile and steered Lunaria away before she could say or do anything else. ‘Watch what you say,’ I warned. ‘He’s a human. He’s not supposed to know about us.’
She didn’t even hear me. ‘If I’m good,’ she said, ‘maybe I should go to Morgan instead. Maybe he’ll want me. He looks like Rubus. He’s got to be the next best thing. Isn’t that bar of his round here somewhere?’
‘No. And you can’t fling yourself at Morgan.’
Lunaria blinked. ‘Why not?’
‘Because … because…’ I banked down the sudden wave of jealousy that tore through me at the thought of Lunaria with Morgan, of anyone with Morgan. I took several deep breaths; I had no right to tell her what she could or couldn’t do. Much as it killed me to do so, I veered away from forbidding her to go anywhere near my green-eyed lust bucket and sighed. ‘You have to make your own choices and do what you want to do, Looney. But those choices have to be for the right reasons.’
A brief flash of clarity entered her eyes. ‘Did you leave Morgan for the right reasons?’ she asked.
I ran a hand through my hair. ‘I wish I knew.’ Somehow I doubted it, even knowing everything that I did now. ‘Come on. We’ve still got several ounces of pixie dust to offload.’
‘I’ll take it,’ Lunaria said brightly.
‘That’s probably not a good idea.’
I sighed again. I didn’t like thoughtful Madrona, I decided. She always took the difficult way out.
***
By the time we reached the Travotel, the worst effects of the pixie dust seemed to be wearing off. Lunaria was now groaning and clutching her head. Her skin had a tinge of yellow about it and I made sure not to walk too close to her, as I was sure she was on the verge of heaving her guts up.
‘I have the mother of all hangovers,’ she groaned. ‘Why on earth would anyone willingly take this stuff? It doesn’t last nearly long enough to be worth it.’
That was probably why so many ended up taking more dust. ‘I’m sorry I made you do that,’ I said, actually meaning it. ‘It won’t happen again.’
Lunaria winced. ‘I obviously still have too much of it in my system because I could swear you were just nice to me.’
I glanced at her hopefully. ‘Would you prefer it if I were mean?’
‘Honestly, Mads, I’d prefer it if you just stayed quiet. My head is pounding.’
Fair enough. At least I’d have a good excuse for talking to Timmons – or rather Begonius, as was his Fey name – alone.
I left Lunaria on a small bench in front of the hotel and ambled in. Begonius was already waiting in the lobby, wringing his hands.
‘Hey!’ I stretched out my arms in greeting. ‘Did ya miss me?’
The fact that he took a step backwards was all the answer I needed. He jerked his head at the door leading to his office. I shrugged and went that way, throwing a wave to the receptionist as I passed her. She gave me a puzzled look.
‘You’ve got new staff,’ I commented, once the office door was shut behind us.
‘I had to have the others transferred to different venues after your little stunts,’ he hissed at me. ‘I couldn’t risk them getting suspicious about who I really am – or what I really am.’
‘Sure,’ I said sarcastically. ‘Because having a strange woman stay once in your hotel and a strange man visit you once would lead them to all to immediately believing you’re a faery in human disguise.’
‘Shhh!’
I tutted. ‘I don’t think they can hear us.’
‘You never know. Besides, you might think I’m being paranoid but you’ve forgotten about all that shit that happened right outside here with Rubus. Murders, Madrona. Several of them!’
‘Those weren’t my fault.’
He glared. ‘I didn’t say they were.’
He was certainly very uptight and prickly but I couldn’t really blame him. ‘Look, Begonius,’ I began.
‘Mike. Or Timmons.’ He heaved himself into his chair with a thump. ‘Not Begonius.’
I gave him a curious look. ‘You like it here,’ I said, realisation dawning.
‘It’s a Travotel. There are hundreds of other hotels exactly like this one up and down the country. It’s hardly unique but it’s not a bad place to work.’
I shook my head. ‘No, I mean here. This demesne.’ I watched his expression. ‘You don’t want to go back to Mag Mell.’
He shifted uneasily. ‘I don’t know where you got that idea from,’ he said stiffly.
I took the chair opposite him. ‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’m just … surprised. Every other faery in the world can’t seem to wait to get back.’
Timmons fidgeted with a pen. ‘It’s not that I don’t feel the ache.’ He briefly touched his chest. ‘It hurts me to be away as much as it hurts everyone else. Why do you think I wanted pixie dust from you? But,’ he continued, ‘just because I miss home physically doesn’t mean I’d rather be back there. Here in this hotel I’m respected. It’s my own little kingdom where there are clean sheets and hand soaps and those cute little sachets of instant coffee. I’m in charge. It’s not perfect – but nowhere is. Back in Mag Mell, I’m a nobody. Here I have a purpose.’ The pen snapped in his hands and his mouth twisted. ‘I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.’ He glared at me as if his confession were my fault.
‘Kebabs,’ I said suddenly.
Timmons frowned. ‘Huh?’
‘I can’t remember anything about Mag Mell,’ I told him, ‘but I’d bet my stunning good looks that there aren’t any doner kebabs to be had for love or money.’ I smacked my lips.
‘No,’ he agreed. ‘There’s not. Some bright spark tried to introduce chillies, which should have been easy given they’re just another plant. They didn’t take, though.’ He shrugged. ‘Too spicy.’
‘You can’t have a kebab without chilli sauce,’ I said, utterly horrified.
Timmons nodded. ‘Exactly.’
‘Rave music. I bet there’s no rave music.’
‘Only folk,’ he said morosely.
The horror. ‘Chocolate?’
‘There’s chocolate, but only dark chocolate. And you’d never find a Mars Bar.’
‘I’m guessing there’s no Candy Crush.’
‘Nope.’
‘Or Uber.’
‘Nope.’
‘Or YouTube.’
‘Nope.’
It made one wonder what exactly the point of Mag Mell was. ‘Probably no vibrators.’
Timmons visibly winced. ‘Too much informatio
n.’
Fair enough. ‘I get it,’ I told him. ‘It’s not so bad here.’
‘It’s pretty good. I like it.’ He sniffed. ‘And I don’t want anyone to mess it up for me.’
‘Meaning me. You don’t want me to mess this up for you.’
He shrugged. ‘You’re not exactly a selfless angel who puts the needs and desires of others first.’
‘I’m fighting for the greater good. Sometimes the end justifies the means.’
‘Does it?’ he asked quietly.
Suddenly I was unable to meet his eyes. That was weird. And uncomfortable. ‘I have pixie dust if you really want some,’ I offered, glad to change the subject. ‘I’m going to tell Rubus I gave it to you and you’re more than welcome to have it if you want. I don’t think you should take it but I also believe in free will. It’s your choice.’
Timmons’ expression was open with hungry desire. ‘Give it to me.’
I hesitated. ‘Are you sure?’
‘You just said it was my choice.’
‘It’s addictive. I just watched Lunaria go nuts in the middle of the street because of it. Rubus will have you over a barrel and—’
‘Please.’
I sighed. Fine. I passed him the bottle. ‘I’ll need to keep a bit back,’ I told him. ‘I’m supposed to go looking for Vandrake and get him to come back into the drug-addled fold.’
‘So I heard.’ He decanted a large quantity of the sparkly dust into a plastic container and passed the bottle back. ‘Paeonia called me. Vandrake’s gone to Morgan.’
I breathed out. Good. I’d be responsible for Timmons’ potential collapse – and Lunaria’s – but at least one faery was safe from my talons. ‘And Artemesia?’
Timmons slid over a piece of paper. ‘She’s here.’
I glanced down at the scrawled address, memorising it before passing it back. ‘Thanks.’
He cleared his throat. ‘She says that if you go anywhere near her with Lunaria in tow, she won’t have anything more to do with you.’
I nodded; I’d expected as much. I’d have been disappointed if she hadn’t threatened that.
‘She doesn’t want you inside her lab either.’
That was just stupid but I was sure I could persuade her otherwise. ‘I do appreciate your help,’ I told him.
Timmons looked at me without saying anything.
‘What?’ I asked.
He pursed his lips. ‘I’m waiting for the insult that follows.’
That was twice in one day that I’d been told to be meaner. I folded my arms and huffed. ‘I’m not going to insult you,’ I said. ‘There’s more to me than bitchiness. Besides,’ I added at Timmons’ incredulous expression, ‘I don’t want you to have to feel forced into turning the other cheek. It’s even more grotesque than the one I can see now.’
He spluttered but he also looked rather pleased. ‘You know,’ he told me, ‘word on the Fey street is that if you’ve not been personally slagged off by the Madhatter you’re not worthy of notice.’
I considered this before deciding to take it as a compliment. I’d heard worse. ‘I guess that’s just the sort of legend I am.’
I stood up and leaned over, kissing Timmons’ cheek. ‘Tell whoever you like about the insult. Tell anyone that I kissed your cheek and I’ll have your scrambled brains for breakfast.’
He looked utterly delighted. Gasbudlikins. I really was losing my touch.
***
‘Okey-dokey!’ I beamed at Lunaria, who was looking worse and worse by the minute. ‘It was right here where I saw Vandrake. All we need to do is search the streets and I’m sure we’ll find him. He uses the AA meetings in that church to stay clean so I’m betting he won’t venture far from here. He probably lives in the vicinity.’ I tapped my temple. ‘In fact, I have a great idea. The next meeting is scheduled for four o’clock. If we don’t find Vandrake before then, we can crash the AA and spike his coffee while we’re inside. There might even be other ex-dust addict faeries who attend. We’ll be able to nab them too.’
Lunaria shuffled her feet but she didn’t say anything. I’d have to push just a little bit harder. Hopefully not too hard.
‘Last time,’ I confided, ‘I thought I saw some kids hanging around. Pixie dust doesn’t work on human adults but I bet no one’s tried it on human kids. Their biology is different. There’s probably enough dust left for us to reel Vandrake back in and experiment on a few kiddies. It’s better to get them while they’re young.’
Lunaria turned a shade paler but she still didn’t say anything. This was getting ridiculous. I knew from her daft shenanigans about Rubus that she didn’t often stand up for herself but I’d just suggested we gatecrash an AA meeting to peddle our wares to the people trying desperately to stay clean and that we pressgang children into trying dust too. Lunaria wasn’t a bad person; she was, as she’d so doubtfully said herself, a ‘good faery’ at heart. What exactly would it take to make her fight back?
I shook the bag containing the bottle of dust. ‘Yummy yummy dust,’ I cooed. ‘We should come up with a tagline. All the best firms do it. Yummy yummy dust. It will take away your … rust.’ I frowned. ‘It’s not the best. Can you do any better?’
‘Actually, Madrona,’ Lunaria said weakly, as she passed a limp hand across her forehead, ‘I’m not feeling very well. Do you think you can manage without me?’
Praise be. I exhaled silently in relief. I didn’t want to appear too disappointed that she was bailing on me but I could hardly show her what I was really thinking. ‘Well,’ I said, ‘I’ve really been enjoying your company but you do look kind of dead on your feet. Maybe it’s best if you go and lie down for a bit.’
‘Yeah. Maybe.’ Her shoulders slumped. ‘Do you think Rubus will be very angry?’
Him again. ‘Honestly,’ I said, without lying, ‘I doubt he’ll even notice.’
Lunaria looked as if she were going to start bawling. Alarmed, I reached out and drew her into a hug. Please, anything but tears. Unfortunately, the hug had the opposite of its intended effect and set her off.
She hiccupped and started to sob. ‘I don’t know how you do this all the time,’ she said. ‘I mean, I know you’ve got brain damage and all, but it’s just so hard.’
‘I don’t have brain damage,’ I said into her shoulder, unable to extricate myself from her tight hold. ‘I just have amnesia.’
‘Yeah,’ she sniffed. ‘But we all know how weird you’re acting. You’re not quite … right.’
Score one to Looney Tunes. ‘There, there,’ I told her. ‘Maybe one day you’ll end up with total memory loss too and you can experience the wonder of not knowing your own name.’
‘You’re so lucky,’ she gasped, pulling back and wiping her eyes.
Yeah, I thought, eyeing her sourly. The trouble was that she was right. I was lucky I didn’t remember killing Charrie the Bogle; I was lucky that I didn’t remember dumping Morgan when it suited me. Memory loss did indeed have its advantages. And perhaps I was brain damaged. Perhaps I even deserved it.
‘Go on then,’ I said, not entirely unkindly. ‘Get yourself home.’
She sniffed again and nodded. ‘See you later.’
I raised a hand in farewell. ‘Can’t wait.’
I watched her turn round and toddle off. As soon as she was out of sight, I jumped into action. I’d have to be back at Rubus’s place before too long. After all, there was the big dinner with Julie tonight and I had loads to do before then.
Brain damaged or not, it wasn’t easy being me.
Chapter Fifteen
I spun away from the church and headed for the address that Timmons had given me. I didn’t know if Artemesia would be able to help me or not but it was more than worth a try.
Although this time her laboratory-cum-potion-shop-cum-shed was located close by, it took far longer than I’d anticipated to reach it thanks to a combination of steady drizzle, slow-moving pedestrians and winding streets. I actually walked past the damn pla
ce three times before I spotted it. Last time she’d used magic to make her place look like a ramshackle shed from the outside; now, no doubt in order to blend in more effectively with her new surroundings, the exterior of her lab appeared to be a small, boarded-up pawn shop.
I knocked on the rusting door then, without waiting for an answer, pushed it open and entered. I’d barely put one foot inside when a viciously loud klaxon sounded. She’d amped up her security after my last visit. This was confirmed when, a few heartbeats later, Artemesia appeared wielding a long steel bar.
I raised an eyebrow. ‘What are you planning to do with that?’ I enquired. ‘Only a faery would enter this place and only faeries are affected by the truce. All you can do is swing it around and look threatening.’
She glared at me. ‘Usually that’s enough. After all, I am a highly skilled potion maker. You never know when I might find something that will work around the truce.’
I immediately brightened. ‘Really? Are you searching for something? Because that would be a game changer.’
‘The truce binding is too strong.’ She dropped the steel bar. ‘But I heard about the oath breaker that the dragon is prepared to hand over. I can’t be sure without examining it – and with that sort of magic there’s always some sort of catch – but it has potential.’
I grunted. ‘Even mould has potential. I won’t hold my breath.’
I moved further inside but Artemesia sprang in front of me. ‘You can’t come in here. I gave Timmons my address for you but that doesn’t mean I want you inside. There’s a café round the corner. We’ll go there.’
I spread out my arms in a gesture of peace. ‘I’m already here. We might as well stay. I understand you might not trust me—’
‘Trust you?’ Her expression was one of total incredulity.
‘You’d already moved on from that last place,’ I pointed out calmly. ‘And you admitted that you expected me to tell your uncle where you were.’