All Good Things

by Emma Newman

  “Step up?” Cathy shook her head. “If you think that life in the Nether will get better with Will as King, you’re an idiot. What do you think will happen when the rest of his family find out? They’ll be back in power before you can say ‘Nepotism is bullshit’ and they sure as hell won’t be progressive.”

  “But Poppy said Iris has changed,” Lucy said. “Didn’t he, Tom?”

  “He said Iris has been reunited with his love and didn’t care about being cruel to his family anymore,” Tom said. “But they’re rotten to the core. Besides, if Will remains King, he’ll see us destroyed, regardless of what Cathy does. He’ll never forgive me for taking them down in Aquae Sulis and I dread to think what he’ll order the Fae to do to my aunt and uncle.”

  “If Cathy gave herself up, she could protect all of us!”

  “Yeah, right up until he changes his mind,” Cathy said, slamming her mug down. “This isn’t some noble sacrifice. This is putting myself in chains and giving a pathological liar the fucking key! I refuse to have that man holding power over me again. And even if I did go and be Queen, and even if he turned out not to be a raging arsehole—which I don’t believe for a moment—it doesn’t solve the wider problem. The Elemental Court is sucking the life out of this planet. They need to be rebalanced. It won’t matter if there’s a Nether or not when Mundanus falls apart.”

  Lucy had no idea what this Elemental Court was, but wasn’t convinced. Cathy was simply saving her own neck. She had no parents to worry about, she hated her sister and obviously didn’t care if her own brother got old and died. She wasn’t prepared to listen to this any longer. Lucy dumped the mug on the coffee table and left the room, fearing she would say something she’d regret if she didn’t.

  “Lucy!” Tom said, following her out. “Where are you going?”

  “I can’t believe you’re listening to that crap and not challenging her, Tom! Will is a terrible man, I’m not denying that, but we have to find a better solution. Either Cathy has lost it or she’s dangerous, and either way, we shouldn’t enable her. We need to appease Will and protect the Nether, not trash it!”

  “Cathy is no fool. We should hear her out. And appeasing Will is little more than rolling over for the devil. There’s no solution to be found when a man is as evil and corrupt as he is.”

  “You got along fine with him before.”

  “Before I knew what he did to my sister! Good grief, Lucy, what has got into you?”

  “I’m not going to stand back and watch your damn sister destroy everything and condemn me and my family to a slow death.”

  He watched her unlock the front door. “We’re in the middle of nowhere! Where will you go?”

  “Home. California,” she lied. “I wasn’t going to go back. I thought that finally, I had something worth staying for. But if you’re more interested in pandering to her madness, there’s no reason for me to stay in Albion.”

  He looked like a lost puppy. “Don’t make me choose between you, Lucy. Cathy’s been through so much and I should have been there for her. I’m not going to let her down now. Stay and talk it through with us. We can find a solution together!”

  “Do you think she can do it? Destroy the Nether and Exilium?”

  He nodded. “She mentioned some things when she came to me before the funeral. Some ward thing or other. And this is Lord Iron’s house; he’s one of the Elemental Court. I think she knows what she’s talking about.”

  “And you don’t want to stop her from destroying our way of life?”

  “I don’t want Will to be the King of the Fae. We’ll never be safe. That’s what this is about, Lucy.”

  “So you’re willing to burn down an entire house—and the people in it—to kill a spider?”

  “That’s hardly an accurate analogy.”

  She opened the door.

  “Lucy, wait!” He came closer. “I know I haven’t been the best husband. I should have been more loving and…more… Well, the simple fact is that I love you. I love you and I need you to stay here and support us, because I love my sister too and I owe her a debt and I won’t leave her to face this crisis alone.”

  Shivering in the cold air that rushed into the house, Lucy squared her shoulders and sacrificed another dream for the sake of her family. She had hoped for love between them once. But her family came first, and she wasn’t prepared to let anyone threaten them. She reached up, as if to cup his cheek affectionately, so the Sleep Charm would take effect more swiftly.

  As he fell back she dashed out of the door and ran, heading back the way they’d come before. She had to make it to the boundary, she knew that much from what Tom had told her on the way back, and she had the feeling Lord Poppy would be alert for any signs of drama.

  Feet drenched and freezing cold once more, Lucy sprinted past the strange little outhouse they’d passed earlier. A gap in the dark hedgerow ahead reassured her that she was going the right way. After a few stumbles whilst negotiating the ditch, she made it to the fence, resorting to getting onto her front and wriggling under without Tom there to lift her over the top.

  Her bottom lip wobbled at the thought of him but she pushed on to the oak tree and slapped her hands against the bark. “Lord Poppy, Lord Poppy, Lord Poppy! I need to come to Exilium! Please!”

  The wind cut through the dressing gown and she felt like an idiot. She’d acted without thinking. She had no Charms on her, no money, and for all she knew, she was just pressing against an average tree. She rested her forehead against the bark, thinking of her mother and father, her siblings, Edwin, all of them getting old and dying just because of Cathy’s self-centredness. Starting to weep, she whispered Lord Poppy’s name into the tiny crevices, wishing with everything in her that he could hear.

  Then she was tumbling forwards and landed on her back beneath a blue sky.

  Lord Poppy looked down at her, his long hair tickling her cheeks. “What a surprise! You do look upset.” He licked the tears from her cheeks as she squeezed her eyes shut. “Ah, the tang of desperation. Such a spicy flavour. Why did you call me? Did you realise I should keep your hair?”

  “I need to see the King, Lord Poppy, most urgently.”

  “Does this have something to do with my favourite?”

  She wasn’t sure if Poppy would be an ally or not in this situation. “Yes, my Lord,” she said. “I have a message for the King about Cathy. I need to see him.”

  Poppy twisted a lock of his hair around his fingers as she got to her feet. She was wet and filthy and couldn’t stop shivering, despite the warmth of the sun.

  Before he’d decided what to say a faerie dressed in oak leaves appeared. “Come this way,” it said to Lucy, and flitted off in the direction of a gentle hill as Poppy scowled.

  It escorted her to the palace, Poppy following a few paces behind. When they reached the doors, the faerie cast a shower of sparkling dust over her and the filthy dressing gown was transformed into a simple white dress in the Regency style, edged with tiny embroidered poppies around the neckline. The doors opened for her but closed as Poppy approached. She didn’t need to look at him to know how frustrated he was.

  Lucy barely noticed the beautiful interior as she struggled to get a grip on her emotions. She regretted leaving Tom slumped asleep in the hallway. She’d as good as walked out on the marriage, too. Had she overreacted? Her breath caught in her chest as she thought of him waking up, confused, knowing she’d gone.

  But then she rallied herself. Tom was too guilt-ridden to see sense when it came to Cathy. He was so scared of letting her down again that he wasn’t prepared to stand up to her when she spouted nonsense. Will was far from her first choice for King, but she’d rather see his reign endure than see the Nether destroyed.

  Doors opened in front of her and she was guided into a throne room. Without thinking, she curtsied deeply, awestruck by the sheer power that radiated from the man on the throne.

  “Lucy? Please, come closer. You have news of Cathy?”

  She
did as he asked, thankful he didn’t seem to care about what had happened at the ball mere hours before. “I know things didn’t go well between you. I understand why she reacted the way she did, but I don’t agree with what she’s planning to do about it. That’s why I’m here. I think you need to know, because I can’t think of anyone else who could stop her.”

  “Stop her from doing what?”

  “She’s going to destroy the Nether, and Exilium, and your crown, your majesty,” Lucy said. “She’s going to kill us all.”

  29

  Tom woke in the hallway with a blanket draped over him and a pillow beneath his head. A hideous gargoyle’s face stared at him, mere inches from his nose, and he yelped in surprise. When the gargoyle also leaped back with its own cry, Tom yelled again.

  “Sorry,” the gargoyle said. “I was checking you weren’t dead.”

  Tom was only able to blink at it in surprise.

  “Is he awake?” Cathy’s voice called through from a nearby room.

  “Yeah,” the gargoyle called back, and then offered a stone paw to help him up.

  Tom scrabbled to his feet, the gargoyle’s presence doing nothing to help with the disorientation. “Cat?” he called.

  “In the library,” she called back.

  Tom stumbled in to find an Arbiter standing in front of the fire, warming his hands as Cathy made notes from a huge book open on a desk. It was all too surreal. Perhaps he was still asleep. “Where’s Lucy?”

  “No idea,” Cathy mumbled, disinterested.

  “We have to find her! She was upset.”

  “Busy right now,” Cathy said.

  “And there’s a monster in the hallway.”

  “That’s just the gargoyle, he’s lovely,” Cathy said. “Tom, I need some space here. Oh, that’s Max, by the way. He’s the Arbiter who confirmed the forgery for us.”

  “That was you? Ah, thank you,” Tom said. “Cat, help me to find Lucy, please.”

  “She’s studying,” Max said. “Sorcery requires concentration.”

  Frustrated, Tom went back out into the hallway, frowning at the pillow and blanket. “Cathy said you’d been Charmed to sleep,” the gargoyle said. “You can close your mouth now.”

  Tom hadn’t realised it had dropped open again. It seemed just like a person, only in the shape of a gargoyle. “I’m going to look for my wife,” he said. “She was upset.”

  “Okay.” The gargoyle nodded. “Want me to come and help?”

  Shrugging on his coat, Tom declined and went outside, hoping the bitterly cold night would make more sense.

  The moon was full and bright enough to cast shadows. He scanned the driveway and garden but couldn’t see any sign of Lucy. He had no idea how long he’d been asleep. She couldn’t have gone far on foot, though.

  “Lucy?” he called, the wind stealing the sound. He buttoned his coat and headed towards the forge Cathy had stopped off at before. Perhaps Lucy had taken shelter there to calm down.

  Once he was past the sculpted formal gardens and into the huge expanse of lawn, the forge came into view and his heart leaped when he saw a light on inside. “Lucy?” he called, and ran over.

  He could hear her crying before he opened the door. Pushing it open, he found her huddled in a corner, wrapped in a grotty coat she must have found in there, shivering violently as she wept. At the sight of him she turned her face away to cry into the coat’s collar.

  “Lucy,” he said softly. “What are you doing in here? You’ll catch your death of cold!”

  “I couldn’t come back to the house, not after what I said,” she sniffled. “Not after I made you sleep.”

  “Don’t be silly. You were upset and you panicked, that’s all.”

  “You’re not mad at me?”

  “I’m not angry,” he said. “Do you still feel the same as you did?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied, wiping her cheeks with the cuff of the coat. “But I regret what I said to Cathy. That wasn’t right.”

  Flooded with relief, Tom took off his coat. He pulled away the horrible old thing Lucy was shivering under and helped her to her feet so he could wrap his coat around her. Her dressing gown was filthy and her slippers and socks were soaked. “Come back to the house,” he said, embracing her and kissing her hair. “I’m sure Cathy will understand.”

  “All right,” she said, and he picked her up, cradling her to him as they crossed the garden, the wind slicing through his shirt.

  Cathy was in the entrance hall when they got back and gave Lucy a wary look as Tom set her down. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m sorry for what I said.” Lucy approached her slowly. “I was upset, but that’s no excuse. This is hard, especially for you. I should have been more understanding.”

  With a relieved smile, Cathy embraced her. “You need a hot bath. I’ll run one for you.”

  Tom escorted her back to the living room and a hurried set of introductions were made between the Arbiter, the gargoyle, and his wife. Cathy came back with a towel and gave it to Lucy, who peeled the sopping socks and slippers off her feet to rub them dry. Tom smiled at Cathy as she steered Lucy towards the bathroom, glad that she’d been quick to forgive, and she gave a tired smile back.

  Before long, Lucy returned from her bath looking much better, wearing a clean dressing gown that dragged on the floor. Cathy fetched the Arbiter and gargoyle and they all gathered together.

  “This is what I propose,” Cathy said. “We go to the tower where Beatrice was setting up everything to undo the Sorcerer’s ritual. I’ll see if I can make head or tail of it and if I think I can complete her work, I say we get everything set up ready to prepare Mundanus for a world with the Fae in it. It’s going to be horrible and messy, but I don’t think there’s any other way to handle it. We do it as quick as we can, before Rupert works out what we’re doing and causes problems, and before Will drags me back to Exilium. Then when we’re ready, I unsplit the worlds, taking Will down and setting things in motion to rebalance the Elemental Court.”

  “Rupert won’t be a problem,” said Max. “Not in the short term. We’ve scrubbed about two years of memories from his brain.”

  “Long story,” the gargoyle said at the sight of their shocked faces. “It’s not a long-term solution, but we should be okay to sort all this out.”

  Lucy was silent. Tom brushed the back of her hand with his fingertips and she looked at him with tear-filled eyes. “What about the people in the Nether?” he asked for her, seeing her worry. “What can we do to protect them?”

  “Beatrice—the one who started training me in sorcery—said that they’ll just be in Mundanus. Or rather, there won’t be a Nether anymore and they’ll all get shunted into the single reality that will be restored.”

  “There’s no chance people will just be lost forever in the mists?”

  “As far as I understand it, no. They’ll just be in the Nether property one minute and then in the anchor property the next. I reckon the worst we’d see is collisions with carriages in the street. I will warn everyone first, though, okay? I’ve drafted a letter to send out if we go ahead with the plan. I’ve already been making up emergency survival packs for everyone, including the staff. Sam will help, too. We’re not going to do this and then abandon them all.”

  Lucy just nodded. Tom wasn’t sure if it was because she was so clearly outnumbered or because she’d made her peace with it. Either way, he could see how hard it was for her.

  “I’m going to get all the books and my notes together. Tom, Lucy, I’m going to make the tower safe and then you should come with us. It’s going to have the best wards and Sam will soon be with us, I’m sure.”

  “Once all of you are through, I’ll wait here until he gets back,” said the gargoyle. “Then I can take him straight to the tower.”

  Cathy nodded. “Even if Will sends one of the Fae after you to get to me, they won’t be able to get past Sam,” she said to Lucy. “It’ll be the safest place in all the worlds until
this is done.”

  “Thanks,” Lucy said. “That’s good to know. We’ll keep out of your way.”

  • • •

  Sam went to check his watch and remembered he’d left it at home, following Beatrice’s instructions. It felt like he’d been waiting in the forge near Bath for hours. At least there was a fire. He just wished he’d brought a book to read.

  Just as he was about to go back to the car and make some phone calls, a burning line appeared in the wall, describing a doorway that shimmered in the centre. Within moments, he could see a strange room on the other side and then Cathy stepped into view, a paintbrush in her hand. She looked just as surprised to see him as he was to see her.

  “Sam! What are you doing there? We’ve been trying to call you. Come through.”

  “But Beatrice told me I needed to wait here for her.”

  Cathy bit her lip and after a pause said, “Change of plan. Come through and I’ll explain.”

  He stepped into the room and embraced her. It was much colder and he already missed the fire. He took in the smashed window and the curved walls. “Is this a tower? Where’s Beatrice?”

  She rested the paintbrush against a pot after making a single stroke on a pane of glass held in a frame in front of her. The Way to the forge closed behind him. “You’d better sit down. There’s a lot to tell you.”

  He found a wooden stool to sit on nearby and listened as Cathy told him what had happened since they last spoke.

  “…Fuck.”

  Cathy nodded. “Yeah. So, I’ve been trying to work out what Beatrice was doing. We have a book of hers, which was open when the gargoyle…” She looked down at a stain on the floorboards, swallowed, and carried on, “When she died. Seven lines of notation, and I thought they might be the seven forges. So I picked the top one and worked out how to open a Way and there you were.”

  “That was lucky!”

  Cathy smirked. “Not really. Beatrice sent you there, didn’t she? It makes sense that the first on the list would be where she sent you to keep you out of the way until you were needed.”