by Liz de Jager
‘Logic sucks, but you’re right. We have to assume, regardless of first appearances, that we are indeed dealing with a Fae creature of some sort who must be helping the Bob monster steal the kids once he’s managed to get into their homes.’
Dante frowns at me. ‘Explain.’
‘The Fae do not show up on CCTV or cameras.’
Dante nods thoughtfully. ‘So do we think Bob is Fae? As well as the guy that’s helping him? Also, how do you know this for sure, that they don’t show up on CCTV? They’re like vampires?’
I twist my head to peer at him to see if he’s joking, as he continues. ‘Vampires don’t show up in mirrors, isn’t that the folklore?’ I sigh and he holds up a defensive hand but he’s laughing. I don’t know if he’s laughing at his own stupidity or at me. Possibly at me, so I deepen my scowl. Dante presses on, ‘So why doesn’t Bob – if he’s invisible to CCTV that is – take the kids out of the house too?’
‘I’ve not figured that part out.’
‘Maybe he doesn’t know where the other guy takes them. So, back to our friend Bob, the child stealer. What’s with the face and why does he look like a monster? If I wanted to steal kids I’d be the nicest-looking granny there ever was.’
‘Maybe he wasn’t going to steal Adam.’ I sit up and stare at Dante. ‘Maybe he just wanted to scare him. Hurt him a little. Maybe Bob reacted without thinking. Also, I think Bob isn’t the stealer. He’s the helper.’
He rolls his eyes at me. ‘So, back to Bob the helper.’
‘Thank you. Yes, so Bob the helper then has to sneak through the apartment and pass the unconscious child along to someone else. A Fae could probably cast a glamour over something as small as a child, to make them invisible too.’
‘And this someone else is?’
‘I have no idea yet.’
‘So you’re thinking there are two creatures working together?’
‘I think so. At least two.’ I give a cracking yawn. ‘And think of Bob’s spittle – we need to work out exactly what’s in it. A small dose of toxin could knock out a small child and make them easier to carry.’
‘But why? That’s what I don’t understand. Why would they steal kids?’
‘Money? Love? Hate?’ I shrug, which is difficult to do when you’re lying on the floor. ‘Who knows?’
‘Aren’t you interested in finding out?’
‘I am, but it’s difficult to speculate about something you can’t possibly know. Until you know. Especially if we’re talking about supernatural creatures.’ I sit up and stretch. ‘I need to hit the books,’ I tell him. ‘Let me see if my aunt will allow me access to her library.’
Dante looks a bit confused at the statement and I wonder how to explain Aunt Letitia, with her agoraphobia and paranoia. ‘She’s not keen on visitors, see? So being allowed to visit her is a big deal. Usually takes weeks for her to agree to see anyone.’
‘We don’t have weeks.’
‘I know.’ I fiddle with my phone. ‘I’m sure she knows what we’re facing, as my uncle will’ve told her about the case. So I’m hoping she’ll know where to direct me.’
‘Go ahead and call her.’
It occurs to me that I didn’t have to explain to Dante who my aunt is and how vast her library is, or the fact that she might only have an inkling of an idea of how to help.
‘Right,’ I say to him, pressing Aunt Letitia’s number. ‘Here goes.’
It takes a few long seconds for the call to connect, then it’s ringing and I imagine her in the library with its soft golden light, muttering at the call’s interference.
‘Yes?’ Her voice is reminiscent of a Hollywood siren, lush and deep. I suspect that once upon a time she sounded young and girlish, but after smoking all her life and drinking whisky the way I drink coffee, her voice has gone all Lauren Bacall. ‘I was wondering when you’d call, girl. What do you need?’
‘We’ve got kids disappearing, Aunt Letty. I need access to the library so I can do research.’
‘Will you be coming on your own?’
‘Would you allow Dante in the library?’ And obviously she would know who I’m talking about because my family and me working with a Spook would be Big News.
‘Don’t be absurd, child. Of course not. I’d have to fumigate the place and possibly have to redo all my alarm systems if he came here.’
‘Then I’ll be coming alone.’
‘I’ll send my driver. Be at home by three this afternoon.’
She hangs up before I can even say another word and I fling the phone onto the couch behind me.
‘Dammit, she is so annoying.’
‘Your family really don’t like us, do they?’
‘You are despised,’ I say, not worrying about sugarcoating it. ‘They utterly dislike you, utterly. She’s sending her driver.’
‘Nice guy?’
‘Creepy.’
‘Creepy, how?’
‘Oh, you know. Friendly. Chatty.’
‘And that’s creepy?’
‘I don’t do friendly or chatty.’
His chuckle makes me want to smack him but I restrain myself, especially when he says in a kindly voice, ‘You’re not that bad.’
‘I am. I struggle with people.’
‘We all struggle with people. I’ve seen you be really cool with the little kids.’
‘Little kids are easy. They’re cool. They believe.’
‘You only treated me like I have the plague for a day. Now you actually talk to me. As if I’m a real person.’
I hold up my finger. ‘That is yet to be determined. If you’re a real person, that is.’
He pulls a face at me and laughs and I do the same.
‘I’ve got to go.’ I stand up and stretch again, fighting the fatigue dragging at me. ‘I’ll call you when I’m done at the library.’
Chapter Twenty-Five
I don’t enjoy travelling by Tube, but when it works it works fast, and I’m back at the house by lunch time. Enough time to change and check my emails. Kyle is still out but he’s emailed me a list of books to check out at Aunt Letitia’s. I print that off and fold it into my messenger bag.
I check the kitchen cupboards and come up with a packet of cookies. Unopened. I definitely miss our brownie, Mrs Evans, and her constant supply of baked goods and sweets. Occasionally she sends stuff back with Marc, if he visits the building site that’s now Blackhart Manor, but she’s so busy looking after the builders that I think we’ve been sort of forgotten.
I’ve been to the site a few times – once was when the foundations were dug and the crucial cornerstone was laid. I spent one sleepless weekend working a heavy protection spell into the foundation of the house. Uncle Andrew had to drive me home to London as I was so high from the pure earth magic I’d accessed from the leyline that runs through our land. I was basically vibrating and unable to sleep for a further two days, followed by three days of deep rejuvenating unconsciousness. The other visits were similar but not as exhausting because I basically just had to bind together the magic I’d already released. It was something like mending a jersey – I had to pick up the stitches and join all the magic together so that it covered what had been built since I’d been there last.
I have no idea how Uncle Andrew or Marc even explained what I did to those builders, but they’re from Norway, and don’t they believe in faeries there as a matter of course?
Thinking about Marc, who’s at Exeter University, feels odd now he isn’t here to look out for me any more after nearly two years. My other cousins are studying too, preparing to take on more mature roles within the family. Marc is learning a mix of subjects that probably won’t mean much to him in the real world (unless he becomes a farmer by day and a demon-exorcizing mathematician-psychologist by night). Soon, that will be me at uni, if I’m lucky, but I have no idea where I’ll go or what on earth I’ll study.
I need to get on with the research, so I sit down with my file and read through the info collected so far. I make notes on scrap
s of paper from what I remember Professor Thorpe telling us and shove them into the file to take along to Aunt Letitia’s.
My phone rings; it’s Kyle.
‘We think we’ve tracked down the stuff in the spittle,’ he says. ‘It is venom. Jilly is busy sorting out what snake it belongs to but really, what you need to know is that the venom paralyses the victim.’
‘Euch.’
‘Exactly, so watch out for this thing if you come face to face with it, okay?’
‘I’ll do my utmost not to come face to face with it. I’m more than happy to clobber it over its head, I’ll be honest.’
‘Good girl.’ Kyle laughs at me. ‘Have fun at Aunt Letty’s.’
‘Are you sure you can’t come?’
‘No. I’m here, you know, assisting Jilly.’
‘When I get back we’re doing unarmed combat training and I’m going to kick your ass.’
‘Oh great.’ He groans. ‘I want my brother and sister back. They never used to torture me.’
‘Lies. They left you to the mercy of the dryads in the woods.’
‘That wasn’t so bad.’ His voice goes a bit dreamy. ‘They were really nice to me.’
‘Inappropriate, Kyle.’ I pretend distaste but he just laughs again.
‘I can tell you’re nervous visiting Aunt Letty, but you’ll be fine, really. She’s just very focused. None of the digital records I could find held much info about things that enjoyed stealing kids.’
‘That’s fine. I’m sure I’ll find a host of exciting creatures that can eat my face off while I’m doing the research.’
‘Yay!’ he laughs. ‘That’s our favourite.’
‘Shut up, weirdo, I’ll call you later.’
I don’t have all that long to wait before I hear Aunt Letitia’s car outside. Even if I hadn’t heard it, I would be able to feel the vibration of its engine. I heft my bag up over my shoulder and open the front door just as her driver, Isak, touches the front gate. His face breaks into a smile when he sees me. I’m struck by how he embodies the picture of what a chauffeur should look like. Tall, slender, handsome, if slightly effete features, and a great smile that makes you feel that you’re the most special person in the world.
As I said: he’s just a bit creepy.
‘Little Kit Blackhart. A pleasure, as always. Are you ready?’
‘Hey, Isak. I’m ready, thanks.’
He holds the gate open and I walk past him towards the giant car that sits idling in the middle of our very suburban road. I can tell from the curtains twitching that our neighbours are getting an eyeful of me, of Isak and of the huge car the size of a steamliner. He opens the door for me and I slide into the luxurious leather interior and lean back with a soft sigh of contentment. There’s something about Aunt Letty’s car that just makes me feel safe, as if we can drive through anything in our path.
Isak gets in behind the wheel and pulls away smoothly. His dark gaze meets mine in the rear-view mirror.
‘I hope you don’t mind that I’m a bit early. I was concerned about the traffic.’
‘No, not at all.’
He nods and smiles a happy smile.
‘Ms Blackhart is very excited that you’re coming to visit.’
‘She is?’ I remember Aunt Letty’s voice and she sounded anything but excited, more resigned and possibly a bit annoyed.
‘She really does like you, Kit. Your mother was her favourite. She mourned for months after her death.’
This, I did not know. He must see the surprise on my face because he continues talking.
‘When you and your grandmother disappeared she urged Andrew to do everything in his power to find you. But of course if Mirabelle didn’t want you found, no one would.’
‘There’s so much I don’t know,’ I admit. ‘Uncle Andrew said we’d talk about it at Christmas.’
Isak’s glance towards me is brief. ‘I understand why Mirabelle did what she did. I would have done it too.’
I don’t know what to say to that, to this unexpected conversation with Isak. I don’t know how old he is. He looks maybe twenty-five but is clearly far older. I wonder if he’s even human.
‘Anyway, just sit back and relax. The heli is waiting for us.’
I do sit back and let my eyes drift shut in the back of the giant Bentley. My thoughts are a tumble. Isak mentioning my nan has made me realize how much I’m missing her. I’ve not been to the grave for a month and I wonder if Jamie’s had the chance to visit, to leave her flowers.
It’s a strange situation to be in, knowing that my nan had stolen me from my family in an attempt to keep me safe, away from the world of the Blackharts. There, violence and death was an everyday occurrence, and the strange was not strange at all, but again, an everyday thing. She wanted a different life for me, when she saw her only daughter brought home in a casket, so she resolved to keep me safe for as long as she could. That lasted until I was fifteen and an Unseelie knight recognized her at a country fete where she was selling tinctures and tisanes from her garden. He despised the Blackharts so much, that when he realized she was apart from her family, that the home she lived in had no protection against his kind, he brought a troop of his redcaps with him that night and burned down our home. A neighbour scaled the wall outside my window and got me to safety, but my nan never made it out alive.
That’s when I came to live with the Blackharts. My uncle Jamie found me in the hospital and told me who I was. About my heritage. Occasionally I look back at my life before and I miss it – the not knowing, the normality of it all. But only for a short while because I have new friends, new skills and a family who care about me deeply and I care about them. They came into my life when I was at my lowest. They held me close and showed me how to channel the energies that’ve woken within me to help our world.
The thought and memories lull me to sleep because when I wake up, Isak’s at the door, gently shaking me awake.
I grab my bag and accept his hand as he helps me out of the cavernous car. We’re parked on the tarmac, just a few metres away from a large helicopter with our family’s stag crest painted on the side.
I’ve never actually been in the helicopter. The last time I got to visit Aunt Letitia’s home was by way of speedboat – which you may think is a fun way to travel. But let me just say: I fed all the fishes in the sea. I don’t travel well by speedboat or sea, which is possibly why they’ve decided to see how I would cope travelling by helicopter.
‘In you go,’ Isak says, handing me into the back. ‘Strap in. No, both straps. Like so.’ He helps me buckle myself in and hands me a set of earphones with a microphone in front of my mouth. ‘Wear these if you want to say anything.’ Then he brings out a brown paper bag. ‘And this is if you’re not feeling a hundred per cent during the flight.’
I open my mouth to say thanks but he turns away and climbs into the pilot seat, whipping his hat off and stowing it underneath his chair. A young woman, dressed similarly in an elegant suit, climbs in the other side next to Isak and shakes my hand.
‘I’m Luzette,’ she says with a smile.
‘Nice to meet you. I’m Kit.’
They both settle down and go through the pre-flight checks, then the rotors start up. We lift off and I let out a faint yelp of terror when it feels as if I’m falling forward, but my harness keeps me seated. The helicopter levels out soon enough and we speed across the English countryside towards Portsmouth and the coast. I try and enjoy the flight but there’s so much noise that I feel completely bombarded by it all. Even so, I fall asleep for a while and when I wake up I have no idea where we are until Isak tells me over his microphone.
We fly over Portsmouth and head for one of the four peculiar buildings in the Solent known as the Palmerston Forts. The forts were built in the nineteenth century, in an attempt to safeguard the Solent against attacks from Napoleon. The place suits Aunt Letitia well. It is literally one of the safest places for her collection of books and for her. For someone who suffers from a fe
ar of the outside world and who just doesn’t like people in general, the place is a haven. It is now equipped with living quarters, a pool, a helipad and the family’s remaining precious lore books.
Isak keeps the heli low over the waves and I spot a pod of mermaids who rise up from the water and wave to us. They are both beautiful and horrifying in equal measure but I remember my manners and wave back at them. I’m glad of the earphones that block out their voices, which I can feel brush against me in gentle waves of sound.
We come to land on the helipad of the fort with a minimum of fuss. If, that is, a minimum of fuss means that I’ve not clawed holes in my seat with my short nails. Luzette hops out and comes and helps me with my harness.
Up close Luzette is lovely, with dark lustrous hair and big eyes. I don’t recall her from my previous visit at all and I wonder if she’s new. How does Aunt Letitia go about hiring people?
So many questions, none of which I suspect she’ll answer.
I follow Luzette down into the building and she leads me without comment to my aunt’s study. The room itself isn’t large but it is cosy. Her desk looks like something out of Versailles, as do the chairs, and I just hope that the library has better seating.
Aunt Letitia must easily be in her sixties but her figure is trim and she dresses like a fashion icon. Today she looks very Audrey Hepburn in a sleek pair of trousers and small jacket over a black polo-neck sweater. A strand of pearls matches the tiny pearls in her ears. She wears a single signet ring carved out of a ruby on her right hand, and that completes her adornment. Her hair, naturally curly like mine, is more silvery grey than black these days but there’s no sign that she’s actually ever dyed it.
‘Kit, my dear girl.’ She moves from behind her desk and inspects me briefly, before folding me into a tight hug. ‘Just look at you. So much like your mother, but those eyes – those eyes are definitely your father’s. Take a seat and Luzette will bring us some tea.’
‘It is so good to see you, Aunt Letty,’ I say, sitting down in the world’s most uncomfortable chair. ‘Thank you for making arrangements to have me brought over so quickly.’