by Liz de Jager
I remember the photo on the computer back at the Manor, the heavily scowling Thorn aged fourteen, the petulant lips and the disdain in those eyes. Things are becoming clearer now.
‘You said the manuscript mentions the Elder Gods,’ I prompt Olga, letting my hand trail across the glass.
‘It’s here,’ says Thorn, touching the far right-hand bottom corner of the manuscript where it looks as if something, long ago, decided to try and eat the manuscript. ‘You can’t see it well, but basically it says: “Woe to the prophesied son as the Elder Gods await his coming. Upon his decision to cast aside what has gone before rests the fate of the world and the Elder Gods’ return. They will remake the world as it once was, bringing with them the destruction of fire and water and all will be as new.” Pretty dire, right?’
Aiden grimaces. ‘It’s a ball of crap. It could even mean me. I’m my father’s youngest son.’ When we all turn to look at him in shock he holds up his hands in mock surrender. ‘Hey, I’m fine. I’m not going to go all Dark Lord on you, I swear.’
I lean over and swat him on the arm. ‘Stop being a smartass.’
But the tension in the room is gone and he gives me a toothy grin. I shake my head and laugh, catching Thorn watching me. When I keep on smiling, he returns it, but it’s not the smile I would have liked. It looks sad and pensive.
‘Right, time to get going. We have a long old way to travel today.’ Olga makes a swirling motion with her hand. ‘Let’s ride. Or rather, let’s drive.’
Chapter Twenty-Six
Iron: Iron is anathema to fairies and creatures from the Otherwhere. No one is sure how this has come to be, but it’s been noted in experiments done in the past that iron burns Fae creatures and drives them insane with pain. Tied with this is the old folklore belief that you circle a graveyard with iron spikes to keep the souls of the dead contained within. Similarly, if you nail a horse-shoe to your door it brings you luck while repelling evil spirits.
From an archived report filed in HMDSDI HQ, 1933
I don’t have that much to pack. Most of the clothes I had with me are now covered in blood so I dump them in a black bin bag. I’ll have to stop and buy more clothes or try not to get covered in too much blood for the rest of the day. With my backpack over my shoulder, I trundle downstairs and find Thorn in the study, poring over the manuscript.
‘Are you ready?’ I ask him, dumping my bag on a chair. I go and stand next to him and stare at the manuscript. It’s still old and creepy.
In answer to my question he kicks his bag resting by his feet. We really do look like orphans getting ready to run away together.
‘How long will it take us to get to . . . ?’
‘The Cairngorms? I have no idea. It depends on traffic too.’ I tap the glass over the manuscript. ‘How much of this do you believe?’
‘I’m not sure. None of it, if the world’s a logical place. All of it, if you believe the craziness that’s happening. Do you believe it?’
‘The prophecy feels weird.’ I mimic him rubbing his brow, realize what I’m doing and drop my hand quickly. ‘Like it was written by someone who knew what prophecies were meant to do, mentioning the One but being purposefully vague at the same time. Does that make sense? No, it doesn’t. What does being the seventh son of the seventh son have to do with anything?’
Thorn’s trying not to laugh at me and unexpected dimples appear in his cheeks. It looks too cute. I stare back down at the manuscript and shift a bit away from him. Now is not the time to make eyes at him, or anyone else for that matter. We don’t know what we’re walking into when we get up north and we need to stay focused.
‘Old legends and faery tales . . .’
I snigger.
‘What? We have faery tales too. Only ours have actual faerie creatures in them. The seventh son is supposed to be the magical son, the one with power, of healing or of supreme luck. So far, I think it’s a whole load of lies.’
‘Hey, I resent that. I think me saving you in the forest was a decent amount of luck.’
‘Okay, maybe that one thing then – that was luck.’
‘Do you think we’re going to find all our missing families there?’
He sighs. ‘I would really like to think so. It would make sense if they were all together, wouldn’t it? I think I know the place we’re going to. I recall going there when I was younger. It was for an equinox feast. But it was a long time ago.’
I wander over to stare out of the windows. It’s still dark outside, with a lightening of the skies in the east, but it looks as if it’s going to be a grey rubbish day, with lots of rain.
‘What do you think’s happened to the dragon?’ I ask him. ‘I’ve checked the news reports and no dragon sightings were reported at all. Unless regular humans can’t retain the memory.’
‘I’ve not even thought about the dragon,’ he says, unexpectedly close beside me. I can feel the warmth of his shoulder next to mine. ‘My guess is that he’s still around. This weather isn’t normal, even for your country. With the dragon in the Frontier, the natural balance of your world is upset.’
‘You said that before.’ I think about it. ‘It’s just weird, though. You know, if I had a dragon, I’d use it to create complete havoc. Why hide it?’
‘It could be that they’re keeping it in reserve. For something bigger.’
‘Yeah, that really doesn’t fill me with excitement, at all. Listen, Thorn, can I ask you something?’
He looks at me warily. But when he nods, I forge ahead. ‘Your magic, how does it work? I’ve never been able to ask anyone about it, about how it works, I mean. Everything I know I’ve learned through the journals a sometime-great-aunt left behind. We’re talking two hundred years ago, and what’s in there isn’t much help. My uncle Andrew’s been sending me old bits of treatise on magic. But mostly I’ve been doing these yoga breathing exercises that help me connect with this ball of magic inside, which feels just about here.’ I press the space above my diaphragm. ‘Sometimes it won’t respond, other times I reach and it’s there so fast my head spins.’ I snap my fingers.
‘Magic in the Frontier is very difficult to do.’ He leans his forehead against the window as we watch the rain together. ‘It’s tiring and takes a lot of energy. Legend says that when the Elder Gods were banished and the Frontier was locked away from the Otherwhere, magic left the human world. Humans turned their backs on it to become practical beings. Only a few dreamers believed in magic and managed to practise it. But my magic’s tied to my voice, to sound. It’s like . . .’ He thinks about it for a second. ‘It’s like when you find the right note in music to make you vibrate, right to your bones. That’s what unlocks my magic. It sounds great, doesn’t it? But my parents had me tested when I first displayed signs that I had magical abilities as a small child, and compared to my siblings, my magic is rather mundane and impractical. I think, if my magic could knock down mountains, my father would have been relieved. All the fuss would have been worth it. He would have something to show. A remarkable son. As it stands, I can barely teleport a vase across a room. I’m a great disappointment. Everything about me is normal, apart from a random prophecy that may or may not even be based on me.’
I scowl. ‘Don’t be so hard on yourself. And your dad sounds massively unpleasant. How can he not think any ability you have is remarkable? You’re his son!’ I shake my head. ‘Jamie always says that a commander will find the exact thing a soldier is good at and exploit it. To me it sounds like your dad gave up on you before he even knew who you were.’
I don’t expect him to laugh at me, but he does and I take heart that it’s not an ugly laugh, more like a chuckle. ‘You are very sweet, Kit Blackhart, but I don’t think my dad is an idiot. I think he’s realistic and has to consider at all times what will benefit the kingdom. I’m the youngest son out of seven very accomplished brothers. I will be expected to marry well when I’m older. My marriage will be political and my life will be about serving the kingdom in one capaci
ty or another. Maybe as an ambassador, and I will likely travel between worlds as I am still young enough to be able to cope with the amount of iron and pollution in your world. It’s my duty as his son, and my father knows what I’m capable of. It’s the way it has always been. I know that, unlike my brothers, who each manage to excel at something, I’m very . . .’ He gestured eloquently. ‘Boringly normal.’
I open my mouth to tell him I think it’s a load of twaddle when he leans forward unexpectedly and actually kisses me. It’s not much of a kiss, just a brushing of his lips against mine for literally two or maybe three heart-stopping seconds, but it takes the wind out of my sails and I gape at him.
‘What?’ I squeak. ‘What was that for?’
‘For being a bit crazy, for thinking there’s more to me than there really is.’
I roll my eyes at him. ‘I think that you’ve been listening to people say negative things about you for far too long. I think you confuse duty and honour with being subservient and following blindly rather than thinking and leading.’
He leans closer again and I shock myself by taking half a step back. ‘No. No more kissing to shut me up.’
‘Didn’t you like my kiss?’
I flame bright red and have to look away. ‘I like your kisses but you’re being distracting and so I’m being shouty.’
‘Did someone say there’s kissing going on here?’
I jump with fright as Aiden walks into the room carrying his own backpack.
‘Because no one said there was going to be kissing. I signed up for fighting and punching people in the head but no kissing. Unless I have to kiss Kit, but not you, Thorn. I don’t think I’d like to kiss you at all. I hope you’re not offended.’
Thorn frowns at him, not at all amused. ‘I don’t think Kit would let you kiss her,’ he says stiffly and a little earnestly. ‘I think she’d hurt you, though, if you tried.’
Aiden’s grin widens. ‘Really? You think she’d hurt me? I’ve been told I kiss very well.’ He turns to me and quirks an eyebrow. ‘Would you like me to show you, Kit?’
Before Thorn can rise to Aiden’s teasing, I hold up my hands. ‘Guys, no more talk about kissing.’ I scowl and point at Aiden. ‘I’m serious.’
He returns my scowl with one of his own, but his eyes are laughing. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says, sounding not at all sorry. ‘I was just messing around.’
‘Do you ever take anything seriously?’ Thorn cuts in, sounding annoyed.
‘I do. Fighting is very serious business. I’m also very good at it.’ He winks. ‘Even better at it than kissing.’
‘Okay, guys. Two cars, right? Aiden and me in my car and you and Thorn in the Mini. Are we all good?’ Olga breezes past us, immaculate and kickass in a black ensemble that makes her look part ninja, part manic ballet dancer, and we scramble in her wake and head out to the cars.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Traditions and Taboos – Fae: Known records exist of elaborate family trees indicating marriages between various houses within the Sidhe caste of Fae. It is, however, taboo for any Fae, of any of the three Courts, to reproduce with any other race, specifically humans. The offspring of such unions are invariably aberrations that are killed at birth. The parties involved are ostracized from their community. A known case of intermarriage dates to 1336 BC (see Akhenaten, Pharaoh).
From an archived report filed in HMDSDI HQ, 1978
Midday finds us past the Borders. I’ve got my iPod playing and the music goes from classics to R&B, to disco, to rock and metal, folk and acoustic. I’m thankful for Marc’s obsession with music because it’s easier to talk about the bands than what’s happened. I explain the different styles of music to Thorn, who seems fascinated by all of it. Some songs he sings along to and makes up rubbish lyrics to make me smile.
On long quiet stretches of the highway I catch glimpses of loping creatures shadowing us. These are some of the Fae from the Garrett compound who’ve decided to travel with us to Scotland. Thorn assures me that he recognizes some of the banners they are trailing. There are Fae loyal to Alba but also, unexpectedly, a large contingent of Free Fae – those who do not see Aelfric or anyone else as their ruler, instead choosing to govern themselves.
I watch Thorn watch them as they flow across the land beside the motorway. None come too close but several of them, some astride whimsical creatures (a giant beetle walking on stilts with a company of young sprites strapped to its back), defy the imagination.
It’s become progressively colder still, with the temperature outside reading minus two. I know we’ll have to stop at some stage to buy warmer clothes because we’re not prepared for weather like this at all. There are news reports of snow in July in high-lying areas in Scotland.
Olga rings my mobile and suggests that we stop off in Edinburgh to get supplies before heading further north. Both Thorn and I readily agree to this. We hit Princes Street and practically empty both of its camping stores of warm clothes. With our stuff piled in the cars we look as if we’re heading to one of the Poles or climbing Everest.
At lunch, the restaurant staff are particularly friendly. I’m sure it has something to do with Aiden twinkling charmingly at the waitresses and Thorn looking aghast as the other staff flirt outrageously with him. I load up on coffee and sugar, stuffing my face with chips, a burger and a huge chocolate tart topped with whipped cream. Heaven is food.
While we’re eating, Olga goes off to see if she can find the city’s matriarch but comes back after about an hour to say that all Fae have gone further north to meet with Aelfric and his growing army. Those who chose to stay behind have battened down the hatches and aren’t speaking to anyone. She had to bribe one of the hill boggarts up on Arthur’s Seat to tell her that much. I don’t blame them for staying out of the madness and sort of wish I could do the same.
We get up to the Cairngorms two and a half hours later, as the sun is setting. I am so tired I can barely move but nothing prepared me for the sheer beauty of the nature reserve. Olga slows down ahead of us and we coast along the roads, just looking at the majesty of the rolling forest and the forbidding snow-covered mountains. Behind us, the army of Fae from the south has grown to an impressive number and I can’t even guess how many there are. The creatures we can see with the naked eye number about a thousand alone. Even out here, with no humans to see them, some of them keep up their glamour and stream past the cars in their twos and threes. Noble Sidhe Fae, creatures that look almost human except for their wings, tiny skittering beings with too many eyes and legs, selkies, nixies and a group of phookah lope past. I watch it all with big eyes and grin.
‘This is incredible,’ I tell Thorn. ‘Just look at them.’
His smile is wide. ‘Not something you’ll see every day in London,’ he admits. ‘The Free Fae never take sides in any of the battles between the Courts. If they did it would mean that they declare fealty to one of the Courts and they are far wiser than that.’
‘They’ve come to fight to stay free,’ I say, watching a group of very pretty Fae girls stride past me. They are classically beautiful, pointy ears, big eyes and all attitude in their punk outfits. They don’t seem to feel the cold. ‘They’re on their own side.’
My phone buzzes and I answer it. ‘Olga says she knows where the campsite is,’ Aiden tells me, sounding cheerful. ‘It’s a well-known site for Fae revels.’
I look at Thorn and mouth, ‘Fae revels?’ but he gives me a carefully blank look that tells me that he knows too but isn’t comfortable talking about it. ‘Right, we’ll follow you guys,’ I tell Aiden, but he interrupts me as I start lowering the phone.
‘I’ve been watching carefully.’ Aiden’s voice is loud enough really without my having to use the speakerphone. ‘And I’m sad to say I didn’t see any more kissing.’
‘Aiden?’
‘Yes, Kit?’
‘Shut up before I hurt you.’
My only answer is laughter and Olga’s questioning voice in the background asking a
bout kissing, before the phone goes dead.
‘Why is he so obsessed with kissing?’ asks Thorn. ‘Do you think there’s something wrong with him?’
I laugh at that and shake my head. ‘He’s doing it on purpose to annoy you.’
‘Well, it’s working.’
I know it’s bad of me but his unhappy scowl makes me want to hug him.
‘He knows that it’s working, so you just have to pretend to not care.’
‘Hmmm.’ Thorn watches Olga’s car overtake us on the quiet road and I put my foot down on the accelerator to keep up. ‘Also, he is very young and silly.’
‘Oh, and you’re ancient?’ I ask flippantly, still smiling. For a second I worry I’ve somehow offended him, but then he laughs.
‘No, I am not ancient but sometimes I feel it. Especially these past few days.’
‘How old are your brothers? Are there big gaps between you?’
‘My brothers are all far older than me. I came as a surprise to my parents. They thought they were past childbearing years when I was conceived. The brother just older than me, the one Eadric has captured, has seen sixty-one summers. My eldest brother is two hundred and eighty summers.’
All right then, Kit – ask questions you’re not quite prepared to have answered. ‘Two hundred and eighty summers? That’s old. Old! Like very old.’
‘Not really. My father is over eight hundred summers and my mother is just over five hundred. There was some scandal when they decided to get married. The Courts expected my father to take someone nearer his own age to wife but when they met, it was love at first sight.’