‘Suits ye,’ Annie called out, hanging up her coat in the back room. ‘Dunno what you’ve been doing last night, but ye look beautiful.’ She returned, sipping a glass of water. ‘Ye saw Rav, eh? Out of the bad books, is he?’
Faye twisted the opal on her thumb; she wanted to tell Annie everything. The words lined up on her tongue, but instead of being able to say them, a tightness seized her throat and she coughed.
‘Ye all right, pet?’ Annie banged her on the back. Faye nodded, and tried again, but the same dry, airless sensation assailed her, and Finn’s voice spoke in her mind.
The gift is for you, Faye Morgan. But I am your secret. Tell no-one what has passed here tonight, or you may not be permitted back into my realm.
She knew she wasn’t supposed to talk about being with Finn, but she hadn’t expected his prohibition to be so literal. Annie offered her the glass of water, and Faye took a gulp.
‘Alright?’ Annie looked concerned.
‘I’m okay,’ Faye nodded, a shiver of unease rippling through her body. She didn’t like lying to Annie, but Finn had made it very clear. She felt a momentary guilt that she hadn’t thought of Rav at all when being away; Finn had taken her over completely. How was that possible? Was it something to do with being in the faerie realm itself? Being there exerted a power over her that made her… different. That made her forget the real world and everyone in it. And it seemed that the enchantment was not completely gone; Finn’s power reached out to her here, still.
‘Phew,’ Annie smiled, then looked at her phone and frowned. ‘Ah. Slight change o’ plan, lassie. All right if I hop off early later? Got an audition. Nice ring, by the way.’
‘Sure. Fine. Thanks, it’s… new.’ The less Faye had to be around Annie today, the better. She didn’t want to lie to her any more than she had to. ‘Take the day off, if you want? It’s going to be quiet, I’m sure.’ She dropped her hand by her side to avoid any further comment on the ring.
‘Thanks, sweetheart,’ Annie grinned. ‘I’ll stay and have a gossip for a bit though, aye? I tell ye what, Aisha’s been acting odd recently. Have ye noticed?’
Annie was running on about something – about Aisha not turning up for work, about seeing her walking on the beach alone, but Faye wasn’t listening. She was twisting the ring on her thumb.
Chapter Twenty
When the bells by the door jangled the next day, Faye looked up for Finn’s graceful shadow blocking out the sun; she didn’t know how she felt about seeing Rav’s boyish frame instead.
‘Hey. I’ve been messaging you but I didn’t get a reply.’ He smiled his shy, sweet smile and Faye looked guiltily at her phone. She realised that she’d spent the last hour staring off into space, reliving her night with Finn; Aisha, who was working that day, had given up talking to her and had turned on the radio. Faye heard the Dal Riada song be introduced by the DJ with little surprise; she was so obsessed with Finn now that it seemed perfectly natural for his voice to caress her, as if reminding her that he was with her always, now. And that, somehow, there was a subtle, fine network of faerie that she was now tuned into.
‘Oh. Sorry,’ she blushed, knowing that he knew it was a lie, but unable to explain. Rav looked around at the shop, which was empty apart from Aisha, unpacking a box in the corner, back again at Faye, and at her phone, next to her on the counter.
‘Oh.’ His smile faltered, and he took a step back.
Dal Riada, there, Scotland’s hottest new band, burbled the local radio as the track had finished. Set to be headlining Abercolme Rocks this year; the first Midsummer celebration for many a year up this way. It’s gonna be a banger, get your tickets soon cos they’re selling out!
‘Are they? Selling out?’ Faye gave Rav a big smile, picking up her pack of dog-eared tarot cards she kept at the counter and shuffling them to have something to do with her hands; it made her feel less awkward. She pulled three cards without any particular questions and laid them on the counter, facing up. The King of Cups on one side, the Knight of Wands on the other, and The Empress in the middle. Two men that desire you. Two men – well that was easy enough. The King of Cups was Finn, and the Knight was Rav. The Empress was herself – sexy, desired, fertile; the ultimate woman. Faye remembered that sometimes the Empress card could mean a Mistress, too; she raised an eyebrow. Whose mistress? she wondered.
‘Doing all right, yeah.’ Rav watched her cautiously. ‘Word’s getting out there. People love that band. Not my thing, but whatever.’
‘Aisha really loves them. Aish, come and say hi.’ Faye beckoned her over.
She pulled two more cards, more consciously now. On the King of Cups she placed The Lovers; on the Knight of Wands, 7 of Swords. The Lovers was obvious. The Swords card meant deviousness, guile; betrayal, sometimes. She frowned and picked up the cards, slotting them back into the deck. Betrayal, she thought, avoiding Rav’s eyes. But who betrays who?
‘Hey, Rav,’ Aisha finished arranging some new salt crystal lamps on one of the shelves and came over, wiping her hands on her jeans; it was fairly obvious she’d been giving Faye and Rav some space until now. She stuck her hand out and he shook it, hardly taking his eyes from Faye. ‘I heard you’re organising the festival. Faye’s right. I’m a huge fan of Dal Riada.’
‘Oh. Cool! Nice to meet you.’
Rav shifted his smile to Aisha. For a moment Faye saw Aisha through Rav’s eyes: young, bright, enthusiastic; Aisha loved music as much as Rav. She had been wearing her hair down more and wore makeup most days now which made her dark brown, long-lashed eyes look like those of a cartoon doe. Faye had always thought that Aisha was a hidden beauty and had encouraged her to feel more confident about the way she looked, but for the first time, she suddenly felt envious and hated herself immediately for the feeling. What was wrong with her? Aisha and Rav were allowed to talk to each other: she didn’t own either of them. Faye could feel something encircling her, constricting her throat and casting a kind of haze in front of her eyes. It was a similar feeling to when she had seen Annie earlier, and had been unable to tell her what had happened with Finn. She shook her head to try and clear the feeling, but it persisted.
Aisha and Rav were chatting amiably about music, and Faye made herself go and rearrange something on a shelf that didn’t need it. Let them talk, she told herself, resisting the jealousy that had risen in her.
‘If you need any help with the festival, I’ve got some free time. I’m at university but I’ve got a few weeks free at the moment and I love music. I’m really into a lot of the bands on the line-up. I used to run a music blog, so… I mean… it’d be a pleasure to help.’
‘Oh. Really? That’d be great. I can’t pay you, I don’t think, though.’ Rav sounded apologetic. Faye’s heart started beating harder, and she was alarmed at herself.
‘Ah well. Festival tickets’d be enough?’ Aisha smiled innocently.
‘Oh, sure! That I can do.’ He nodded enthusiastically. ‘You’re serious? You can help out? I need admin help, like, emails, social media, local advertising, that kind of thing.’
‘No worries.’ Aisha scribbled her number on a scrap of paper and gave it to him. ‘Give me a call. I’m free Mondays and weekends… or evenings, if you need a hand then.’
‘Okay, cool. Thanks, Aisha. That’d be a huge help.’
Rav isn’t yours, Faye berated herself. You gave him up when you took Finn Beatha as a lover.
Yet, when she looked up from the spell bags she had organised into neat lines, Rav was staring at her. She felt his gaze flicker to her breasts in the pink dress. She looked back at him, letting the pleasurable fugue she had felt in Murias overcome her again. As she did so, the strange sensation of constriction relaxed, and she let the delicious power of faerie suffuse her limbs and her blood. It was suddenly as though all her insecurity had been washed away, replaced by a new seductive power.
Interesting, Faye thought. It’s like Rav’s under a spell when he looks at me. My spell.
She smil
ed over at him, touching her top lip with her fingertip, tracing it along, watching him watch her as she did it. She felt so different, so good, suddenly, and she was enjoying it. Perhaps she didn’t have to make any decisions just yet…
Rav followed her across the shop, leaving Aisha to return to her tasks.
‘You seem… different,’ he blinked. ‘Did you… I don’t know. Do your hair differently?’ he asked Faye, frowning.
Faye ran her hand through her hair, not breaking eye contact with him.
‘No. Just the same as always.’
‘Oh.’ Rav stared at her again, hungrily, his desire open on his face, then looked away, obviously trying to control himself.
‘Actually, I wanted to ask you about the—’ he lowered his voice, ‘faerie problem. It doesn’t seem to have worked, leaving out the offerings.’
‘Oh, hasn’t it?’ she asked. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll come and take a look.’
‘Cool… Could you come tonight? It’s just that… the noise. I can’t sleep. Knocking noises. And it still sounds like they’re running through the house. Obviously whenever I go to investigate I can’t see anything.’ Rav shrugged and rubbed his eyes; Faye could see he looked exhausted.
‘Of course I’ll come,’ she said, feeling sorry for him; the desirous, wanton Faye receded and she felt her normal self return somewhat. ‘I close up around five. I’ll come over after. Okay?’
‘Thanks so much. It’s just, with the festival coming up, I’ve got so much to do. I could do with some sleep.’ He grinned sheepishly and yawned. ‘I though the faeries liked music? Surely they should be blessing me or something?’
‘Who can say what the faeries want?’ Faye responded, honestly. The whole day had been full of extremes, of dramatic emotions and oddness. She felt both wrung out and soaring out of control, hallucinatory, out of sync with her own self.
What was this new, strange power she had over Rav? Was it connected to her visit to Murias? Perhaps enchanting Rav made her more like Finn. And she had no idea whether that was a good thing or not: only that it confused her even more.
She smiled reassuringly and gave Rav a chaste kiss on the cheek.
‘I’ll see you later,’ she said: a friendly tone, nothing more. He looked confused again, and she didn’t blame him at all. There was a brief second when she knew he considered kissing her again; she saw it in his eyes, but she stepped back. Not until I can control this, she thought. Whatever it is.
Rav met her gaze for a moment, and looked like he was going to say something, but he just nodded. ‘Okay. Later.’ He let himself out the door, gving a friendly wave to Aisha. Fresh air cut through the shop from the street outside, but right at the edge of her perception, Faye could smell roses.
Chapter Twenty-One
‘Can’t you feel it? It’s got colder. And there’s this loud knocking, like, pretty much going on all day and all night now,’ Rav hugged his arms around his chest and shivered. ‘If this goes on I’m going to have to move. I can’t live here with it like this.’
Faye walked slowly around the circumference of the living room, which was still sparsely furnished. In her mind’s eye she had a sudden vision of what it could be like – golden shafts of sun slanting through the floor-to-ceiling windows, through diaphanous gauzy curtains that floated on the breeze coming in from the sea outside; soft chairs in neutral pink and silver velvet; elegant, simple furniture, with tall, rose-gold-coloured lamps in the corners, ready to be lit in the evening when the windows would be thrown open to watch the moon rise over the waves. Above the modern fireplace, in which artificial logs were burning behind a glass screen, she imagined a seven-pointed star, made of opals.
She ran her hand over the back of the leather sofa and caught sight of the opal ring on her thumb. The rose-gold lamps were like the precious gold that sang on her skin; an opalescent glow that shot unexpected trajectories of rainbow light from inside itself. Her vision for this room was a kind of homage to faerie, she realised: or, perhaps, a move to bring the house in sympathy with the energy it rested upon and within.
Faye could not feel the cold of which Rav spoke; in fact, as she closed her eyes and saw the room as it should be, she was filled with a warm joy.
‘It feels fine to me.’ She made her way to the fireplace and stood in front of it, gauging the temperature. ‘In fact, I’m actually a bit hot over here.’ She took her coat off and unwrapped her scarf. She listened for a moment, too, but heard nothing. ‘I can’t hear any funny sounds. Are you sure you’re not imagining it? Or maybe you’re a bit under the weather? That would explain feeling cold. Maybe you’d better go to bed?’
Rav looked at her with an odd expression. ‘Faye. It’s freezing in here. Put your coat back on.’
‘No! Really. I’ll be too warm.’ She shook her hair over her shoulders.
‘There! That sound! You couldn’t hear that?’ He pointed to the long glass hallway and stared at her expectantly.
Beautiful singing was drifting through the house now; Faye’s whole body responded to it with joy. It was different to the fast reel the faeries danced to in the great hall: this was a lilting song that wove itself like water. It flowed through the room, a song made of delicate stairs of crystal and faint, tinkling bells. Faye followed the lone female voice out to the hallway with a pull of longing in her heart. She walked as if she was in a dream, her arms held in front of her, eyes half-closed. She was being called by this beautiful song, back to where she belonged now. Back across the sea, to the castle of Murias and Finn Beatha’s arms.
‘Banging. Like someone dropping a pile of saucepans or something.’ Rav followed her out to the hall; immediately, the music stopped and Faye felt her connection to faerie severed, savage and sudden. ‘Didn’t you hear it?’
‘Oh, it’s gone. It was so beautiful.’ She sighed, momentarily exasperated with Rav.
‘Beautiful? It’s a fucking racket!’ Rav shouted. ‘I don’t get it. What’s changed? You got it before, but now you’re acting like there’s no problem, Faye. I thought you wanted to help me?’ He went to the faerie altar and pointed at it. ‘I did everything you said. Milk in the bowl every other day. Flowers, feathers, shells. I’ve even said a fucking prayer to the faeries every day to leave the house alone but, if anything, it’s got worse. And then you come back here, floating around like some kind of princess, and act like everything’s okay! It’s not fucking okay, Faye! I feel like I’m going mad!’
Tears filled Rav’s brown eyes, and Faye felt a wave of sympathy for him.
‘I thought you… I thought we had a connection, something… I thought you liked me.’ He wiped his eyes in frustration. ‘But you’re being really weird with me and I don’t know why.’
‘I’m sorry. But I really didn’t hear the noises. Just… a really lovely singing.’ Faye was frustrated. Rav was sweet, and he tried to understand, but whatever was happening to her now – whatever this enchantment was, that meant she felt half in the ordinary world and half in the glorious magic of faerie – it was too much, too alien for him.
‘Singing?’
‘I can only tell you what I heard,’ she said, still a little stiffly because he’d shouted, and called her a princess. And there was a voice inside her that said, If anything, you call me your queen.
‘It must have been in your head. But I don’t know how you didn’t hear that banging sound. And the knocking is absolutely doing my fucking head in. I’m… I’m so tired, Faye. I’m not sleeping. And I’m trying to get this festival sorted and all the bands are being completely pathetic, and…’ He trailed off and took a deep breath. ‘Sorry. You don’t want to know about all that. But I am sorry for shouting.’
She approached him cautiously. ‘That’s okay.’ She stepped forward and he opened his arms, accepting a hug. He sighed and laid his head on her shoulder, then pulled back slightly and gazed at her.
‘I missed you, too. Can’t say that hasn’t been part of what’s keeping me up.’
Faye felt the energy between them change. The pull of faerie was strong in this house, standing as she now knew it did on sacred faerie ground, and being here reminded her how much she wanted to return to it. And that part of her, whose hair was pulled by the moon and who longed for the sea-castle of Murias and its strange enchantments, was impatient with Rav’s earthbound ignorance.
‘Oh.’ She didn’t know what else to say. How to explain that since she and Rav had been intimate on the beach, she had been whisked off to faerie and found a faerie lover that was so entrancing she could barely remember to eat, never mind be interested in mortal men with their imperfect bodies and bad morning breath and dull little routines? That one night with Finn Beatha had moved her, pleasured her, satisfied her more than all the other nights with human men put together? That faerie kings did not complain about having too much work to do, or confess they didn’t know how to solve the problem of their house being haunted. Finn Beatha just was, like a force of nature.
‘Why did you run off that night? After we… you know? Were together? You’ve been so distant. If I did anything wrong, please tell me. I don’t want to have offended you without knowing.’ Rav stroked her cheek, and Faye looked into his eyes properly for the first time since they had kissed on the beach.
There was a great deal that kept her standing there with him, even with the memory of Finn still on her lips and under her skin. Rav was gentle and kind. He had never shown any hint of the sudden rage Finn had, even though he had contained it quickly enough; he was here, in the real world, and Faye didn’t need to find her way through a treacherous labyrinth to find him.
The heady pull of faerie was at odds with with Faye as a practical, powerful earth witch. She was a flesh and blood woman, a woman of power; she was a Morgan, she ran her own business. And this Faye, the one whose magic wove the power of crystal and smoke and rain-soaked earth wanted Rav – this Faye wanted a good man she could trust to love her, to honour her as she should be honoured. That Faye fought the power of faerie that wanted to overpower her altogether, and suck her in its undertow.
Daughter of Light and Shadows Page 14