by Liz de Jager
I do my best to ignore the throb in my arm and the dull ache in my leg. To be fair, I don’t think there’s a part of me that’s not hurting. I slant a look at Thorn where he’s slumped with me in the back seat. He looks tense and troubled, but his anger has dissipated.
‘What happened?’ I ask him. I know he’s awake. ‘Who was that guy back there?’ I don’t have to explain to him what I mean. The boy I’ve come to know these past few days definitely wasn’t the one I saw in that side street a few minutes ago.
‘I don’t know.’ For the longest time he doesn’t look at me but then he does and his eyes are full of self-loathing. ‘I’ve never in my life done anything like that to another living thing. It is not the kind of magic I’ve grown up using.’
‘Is it normal?’ I ask him, genuinely curious. ‘What you did back there?’
‘No,’ he answers firmly. ‘I’ve never displayed any of these abilities before.’
I let that sink in for a few seconds. I’m still a novice to how magic works, mine especially. But seeing what he just did, his eyes turning black and his skin going snake-like, makes me wonder if being in the Frontier is to blame.
‘Dude, you scared me shitless back there,’ Aiden puts in, looking at us in the rearview mirror. ‘I’ve never seen anyone pull that kind of stunt before.’
‘Neither have I,’ Thorn says, sounding tired. ‘I went looking for Kit when she took so long coming back. When I saw that thing standing over her I just . . .’
‘Went berserk?’ Aiden prompted, his eyebrows raised.
‘I am not a berserker.’ Thorn bit the words out. ‘I am not some uncaged wild animal. That, back there, was not who I am.’
‘I don’t know what a berserker is,’ I point out before they can start bickering.
‘A berserker is someone who goes into battle so full of adrenalin that even if his limbs get lobbed off, he still keeps fighting. He makes no distinction between friends and foes in battle.’
I raise my eyebrows. ‘Ah, that’s not someone I’d like to run into.’
‘My dad’s told me that there’s an entire squad of berserkers who fight for Aelfric,’ Aiden says. ‘Is that true?’
‘It is true but they are shunned by the other warriors. The way they fight, giving themselves over to their basest form, is seen as impure.’
I open my mouth to ask more but I spot Aiden’s warning look in the mirror and catch myself. I settle back against the leather seat and watch passers-by huddle beneath umbrellas on the pavements as we drive along.
Aiden fiddles with the radio and music swells around us, coming from hidden speakers. It’s something classical with lots of violins and a woman’s soothing voice. I sigh, letting it wrap around me as I watch the rain throw odd patterns against the skin of my hand as it rests in Thorn’s. When did he take my hand? I can’t remember. I watch as his thumb traces an intricate pattern along the back of my hand and although it’s nice I don’t think he even notices that he’s doing it. I close my eyes again and bite the inside of my cheek. Today has gone crazy, and more than anything else I want my family around me. I feel genuinely lost and out of my depth with none of my cousins to help me figure this mess out. I check the phone Aiden slipped me. The cracked screen shows full signal, but no messages, no emails, nothing. It might as well be a paperweight for all the good it’s done me these past two days.
‘Leo’s called Olga for us,’ Aiden says over his shoulder. ‘She should be at the house later.’
‘Can he be trusted?’ Thorn asks him. ‘It seems we’re running out of people we can turn to for help.’
‘Leo is solid. He won’t speak to anyone about what he saw today.’
To my surprise Thorn takes Aiden’s word and settles back down again.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Olga Kassan: The granddaughter of Emory Kassan. There are mentions of Olga Kassan in our files since the early 1700s. She runs the London branch of Emm’s Antiques and is a regular visitor to the Blackhart estate.
From an archived report filed in HMDSDI HQ, 1921
Olga walks into my room as I’m pulling off my shoes.
‘You stink,’ she says with a frown. ‘What have you been doing?’
‘Oh, you know, fighting bad things. Getting covered in blood.’
‘Did you beat them?’ She heaves her small suitcase onto the bed and zips it open. ‘Where are you hurt?’ Her gaze rakes me. ‘Your arm? Get your shirt off, let’s look at your arm.’
‘I beat two of them.’ I pull off my dirty hoodie and look down at my long-sleeved thermal vest; it’s been completely ruined by blood. My arm has stopped throbbing and is now just a mass of soreness all the time. ‘Then Thorn turned up and went darkside on me.’
‘Can you get your sleeve off?’ Olga tuts under her breath when I shake my head and brings out a sharp knife. She slides it up and under my sleeve and smoothly cuts the fabric away. I bite my lip to hold back a squeal as she carefully prises the bits of cloth out of the three gashes. It feels as if she’s raking glass over my exposed wounds.
‘Lift your arm.’ She pulls the vest off me and her dark eyes narrow. ‘What is it with you Blackharts trying to stop blows with your body? Ever heard about running?’
I ignore the new bruises that have blossomed everywhere and I stare straight ahead, trying not to shiver in the cooler air, and grimace at her. ‘Funny.’
‘Go have your shower and then come back out here and I’ll do my best to fix up your arm. You can tell me about the fight and what’s made Thorn look like he wants to leap off the nearest tall building.’
I nod and yank off my wet jeans and squelch in wet socks to the bathroom. The shower feels great and I wash and rinse my hair, scrubbing hard to get rid of all the blood, especially under my nails. Washing with only one flexible arm isn’t easy. When I’m done, I hobble into some clean underwear, shorts and a strappy thermal cami, and go sit on the bed next to Olga, who has laid out various medical bits.
‘This is going to hurt,’ she says, completely unnecessarily, I think. ‘So, what happened? Tell me all of it.’
So I do. I tell her about the visit to the trolls, about Ioric Brightwing’s appearance and the immobilizing spell he cast over the trolls and how Thorn questioned him. In telling the story I become aware of the strangeness of it, how surreal it sounds, like a bad fever dream.
Olga takes great care cleaning my arm; the pain becomes dizzying and my story comes in fits and starts. She has to ask me questions to keep me making sense. However, the retelling, especially the part involving Ioric cutting his own throat, distracts me from my arm.
‘Thorn took it hard?’ she asks.
I nod. ‘Of course he did. I took it hard and I didn’t even know the guy. Ioric’s death set the trolls free, and they had to lift his friend out of his arms before he let him go. Olga, the man who did this is a beast. It made no sense what he did.’
‘Showing off.’ Olga looked up from tidying her bandages away. ‘He was showing off for Thorn’s benefit. Like a small child.’
‘It’s exactly what it felt like. But why was he so desperate?’ I ask her. ‘Why does he want Thorn so badly?’
Olga pulls her chair closer to examine my leg. ‘I don’t know. But I do wonder why Eadric went to see Thorn’s dad all those years ago. If we can figure out what they spoke about, maybe it would be clearer.’
I let out a howl as Olga does something to my leg and it feels as if she’s digging her entire hand into my muscle and pulling at it, hard. I sit up to see what she’s doing but she pushes me back down with her free hand.
‘You don’t want to see this,’ she tells me and I gasp for breath and squeeze my eyes shut at the terrible pain she’s inflicting on me. ‘I’m listening: what else? Tell me about Thorn.’
Between groans and shouting at her, I tell her about Thorn, about him rushing in and saving me from being a chimera snack. That he seemed bigger too, and how his eyes went coal black as he took the life force from the chimeras, tur
ning them to dust.
Olga pauses for a second, a look of surprise on her face. ‘He did that?’
‘He looked so ill afterwards. I thought he was going to pass out,’ I tell the ceiling. ‘What kind of magic does that, Olga?’
‘I can’t even begin to say. My magic is small magics: cantrips, glamours and healing. I’ve been helping your family look after the Manor for years. But the spells used to keep it safe against magical attack were laid down by far more talented magic users than me. All I ever did was follow the formulae they left behind. Each consecutive layer we added boosted the house’s defences – but the dragon that demolished those wards is not of this earth. Dragons absorb the energies around them, channelling them to power their own magic. Sounds like Thorn used the same principle – gathering the energies that exist all around us, and using them against the chimeras. Then he reversed that magic and turned them to dust.’
She’s not precisely said it, but she’s likening Thorn to the dragon that destroyed my home. I take a deep breath and try and concentrate on the warmth of her hands as she manipulates my leg.
‘Do you remember anything else about Thorn’s change?’ Olga is saying. ‘Anything at all?’
I think back and shiver. ‘It just wasn’t him. He didn’t even look like himself. And he smelled funny.’ As I say it I realize it’s true and my eyes widen in surprise. ‘He smelled funny – like, I don’t know . . . the air at a bonfire.’
‘Hmm.’ Olga pushes her finger against my leg. ‘How’s your leg?’
I open my mouth to tell her it hurts like hell but then I realize it doesn’t. It’s still a bit achy, but nothing as bad as it was earlier. I stand up and walk around the room with a slight limp.
‘Fine,’ I say, grinning at her. ‘Thanks.’
‘You’re welcome.’ Her smile is sweet but strained. ‘Kit, we need to know if Thorn is stable. His family are good people, but strong willed and sometimes difficult to be around. Aelfric likes to see himself as a progressive leader, bringing the Fae slowly into the twenty-first century, but it’s hard. For centuries they’ve lived very secular lives, occasionally stealing a human, spying on us from behind shrubbery. But things are changing faster than Aelfric can cope with. Factions in the Otherwhere are keen to tear down the gateways between our world and theirs. They want free passage in the human world. They want it to be the way it was once before, before the gateways were put in place and our world and the Otherwhere separated forever.’
Dread settles in the pit of my stomach. ‘But it won’t be safe. Not for anyone.’
She nods wearily. ‘Exactly.’
‘Are you saying Thorn’s uncle is the guy wanting to make these changes?’
‘I’m saying he might be behind this. And if he can show the Otherwhere he has the King of Alba’s support, then it’s likely the Seelie and Unseelie Courts will fall in line. As would the Empress of Russia and Chin’s dragon lords.’
‘So he wants Thorn so he can blackmail the king?’
‘Is what I’m thinking.’ She straightens up and surveys me with her hands on her hips. ‘Okay, you’re done. Get dressed. But, Kit, can I ask you something . . . about what it’s like when you’re with Thorn and he uses his magic?’
‘It’s a buzz. I feel it against my skin.’ I think for a second. ‘Give me your arm.’
I push her sleeve up to her elbow. ‘Now close your eyes.’
I lift her arm to my throat so that her skin almost touches mine. Then I start humming. ‘Like that, can you feel it? That’s what it feels like when I sense him using his magic. Only all of me feels it and I can hear it in my head, this constant buzzing.’
‘I’ve never come across anyone who can feel magic. Or use it the way you do.’
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. ‘Really?’
‘Kit, there’s something about you and this prince that just—’ her voice trails off. ‘Something is clicking in ways it’s not done before. I need to do far more research before I can even begin to guess what’s going on with him.’
‘But you suspect something, right? Olga, listen. If it helps him in any way, you have to tell me.’
She just watches me. ‘I’ll tell you as soon as I have proof, Kit. But in the meantime, stay close to him. Things have been set in motion I don’t think any of us have prepared for.’
‘Those Elder Gods?’
‘Them, yes. And other things. Go on, get dressed. I’ll see you downstairs.’
In the kitchen Thorn’s sitting in the same place at the table as he did this morning when we were having breakfast. He’s also had a shower and looks clean and free of monster blood. He’s dressed in a long-sleeved T-shirt that fits him better and I guess it probably belongs to Aiden. I take my place opposite him and lean forward to look at him. I take my time, looking closely at his face, his eyes, the long dark eyelashes, the blue-green of his eyes, the fact that there are gold specks in one (his left) but none in the other. He watches me, his gaze very steady, as I examine him.
‘Freak?’ he says.
I nod. ‘Freak.’
We smile at each other and I sit back. ‘Olga’s fixed me up,’ I say, pointing to my arm. ‘How are you doing?’
‘We seem to be asking each other that a lot,’ he replies but smiles. This time it almost makes it into his eyes. ‘I’m better, thank you. Still shaking but it could be all the sugar Aiden’s given me in my tea.’
I look at his hand resting on the table and put mine next to it, palm down.
‘Any idea what happened back there?’ I ask him. ‘With the super-strength and everything?’
‘No, I have no idea. I can still see it in my mind’s eye. I came out of the coffee shop with our drinks and as I rounded the corner . . . Something in here tore loose when I saw that thing standing over you. I panicked and all I could think of was losing you and I just couldn’t let that happen.’
I’ll admit it: my heart flutters in a very dramatic and girly way hearing those words coming from him. They are unexpected and sweet – and annoying. I feel my anger flare that he put himself needlessly into danger. And he’d only just survived being either killed or kidnapped by his possessed friend.
‘You know I can take care of myself, Thorn,’ I say levelly. ‘Next time, before doing something stupid like that just stop and think. You are a prince of Alba. You have to get home safely. Your family need you to help them. Your whole world is at risk.’
‘Really? You were almost killed, Kit Blackhart. Do you realize how close you came to that today? One day your luck will run out and you will find yourself in a world of trouble.’
‘Of course I realize how dangerous it was, dammit! I was there, remember? And, honestly, I did not save your ass back in the forest and bring you to London to watch you go mental. You have to learn to pick your fights,’ I say, aware of movement near the kitchen door. ‘You need to get up north, regardless of what happens to me or Aiden or Olga.’
‘Oh, and leave you to martyr yourself for a cause that’s not got anything to do with you?’ Thorn is standing now and looks royally pissed off. ‘Have you completely lost your mind? How do you think I’ll live with myself knowing that you sacrificed yourself to see me to safety? What is wrong with you?’ He leans forward and jabs a finger at me. ‘Are you so desperate to get away from all of this that you are willing to die?’
I jump up, equally annoyed now, ignoring the clatter of my falling chair. ‘You know nothing about me! Are we clear? Nothing. I helped you because it’s what we Blackharts do. I promised your dying friend to look out for you. But, if you don’t want my help, just say so.’
Thorn is glaring at me, arms crossed over his body. I mirror his body language and scowl at him.
‘You are being a giant idiot about nothing,’ I tell him.
‘I don’t want to fight about any of this,’ he says at the same time.
I narrow my eyes at him and he does the same.
‘So, do you feel better?’ Aiden asks, walking into the room carr
ying six pizza boxes balanced on his extended arms. ‘I heard some noise and thought we were being attacked again. But no, it’s only you lovebirds having a bit of a tiff.’
‘Shut up, Aiden,’ I grind out. ‘Or I’ll punch you.’
Thorn just looks at us both and shakes his head. ‘You humans are impossible and contrary creatures.’
‘Enough sounding like an alien,’ Aiden says looking unconcerned about the high emotions flying around the kitchen. ‘Both of you, sit down and eat while this is still hot. I’ve never been a fan of cold pizza. Olga!’
A few seconds later Olga strolls in and sits down at the head of the table while Aiden passes out plates and cutlery. We help ourselves to slices of pizza and eat in strained silence. Aiden seems blissfully unconcerned about everything except the food and I must admit that the gooey cheese and crispy crusts do the trick. I wash it down with coffee and feel happiness spread from my tummy outwards.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ Olga says. ‘We’ll all be going to Scotland to help Aelfric. Do we tell the Fae currently staying at your farm what’s going on?’ She directs the question to Aiden as he stretches out, patting his full belly.
His face is serious as he nods without hesitation. ‘I’d want to fight for my home country if the time ever came,’ Aiden says. ‘I’ll let the warden at the farm know we’ll be travelling north. The Fae can choose what they’d like to do. Those staying behind will be safe on the farm. Those who choose to join their friends in Scotland will be given food and whatever else we can spare them.’
‘How big an army do we think your dad has?’ I ask Thorn, whose face looks shuttered and moody.
‘Both the Courts will come when he calls. That aside, we have a standing army of thirty thousand Fae. The barracks are north of the Citadel. If the army’s survived, it and its generals will be with my father.’