by Bree Verity
Suddenly the constrained size of the soul space didn’t seem so small. The library around Fenella was much larger than the actual size of the soul space, she realised the soul could change the space to look however it wanted, and the corner of her lip turned up.
She was also interested in this version of Percy. His soul, perhaps unburdened by worldly cares and worries, seemed a little softer and younger than what Fenella had seen of his physical self. She reflected how life for humans seemed to change them, to force them to take on masks and armor to protect themselves from others of their species.
But Sir Percy, despite his worldliness, had led a blameless life, as was shown by his unblemished soul. His body bore the marks and scars of having to be part of contemporary London society, but his soul was still pristine, unmarked, and untainted.
Knowing this about Sir Percy made Fenella all the more determined to give him the happily ever after that he and Mary deserved, so she dived into the reason she and her brother were there.
“We’ve come to bring you some grave news,” she started. “Out in the physical world, your body is on the verge of dying.”
Soul-Percy smiled and nodded but said nothing, so Fenella bumbled on.
“We were hoping you might help us to keep him alive.”
“Why?”
The question took Fenella aback. She glanced over at Phineas, but he just looked as confused as she was. “Well,” she said slowly, “I promised Lady Mary that I would take care of her happily ever after. But if you die, I can’t do that.”
“Ah.” Soul-Percy nodded.
An uncomfortably silent moment passed. “So,” Fenella drawled out. “Will you help us?”
“No.”
“No? Why not?”
Soul-Percy stood, a smile still on his face. “Because when our physical body dies, that’s when I escape this place and take up residence on the soul plane.”
“Byd Enaid,” breathed Phineas. Soul-Percy glanced over to him.
“I don’t know what that means,” he said.
“It is the fae version of your soul plane,” explained Fenella.
“Then you are fae? I was wondering. You didn’t seem quite human.” Soul-Percy took a stroll around Fenella. “Fascinating. How do you lift yourself off the ground with those wings?”
Fenella was about to launch into an explanation of aerodynamics and the structure of a fae’s bones, but she was interrupted by Phineas.
“Don’t you think you could hold off going to Byd Enaid for a few more years?”
Soul-Percy shrugged. “Even if I wanted to, I doubt I have the ability to stop all this.” He waved an arm around him, and Fenella’s brow clouded.
“All what?” She was starting to become irritated.
“Oh, pardon me. I cleaned it up for your visit.” Soul-Percy waved his arm again, and the library peeled away, leaving them in the soul-space. But it was no longer a nice healthy reddish-white. Now, the walls seemed covered in a greenish-yellow mould, with purple marks, like bruises, pulsating on the surface.
Fenella raced to Phineas, who stood up and took his sister in his arms and the both of them gaped as they looked around. It was like something out of a nightmare.
“It started as a little spot over there,” pointed soul-Percy, “and has just grown and grown.”
“And there was nothing you could do to stop it?”
The soul shook his head. “I tried, in the beginning. I pushed thoughts of Mary and his happy childhood up and out, but it wasn’t long before this…” he waved a languid hand, “stuff stopped them making their way out into his conscious.”
Fenella’s shoulders drooped. “So, there’s nothing we can do,” she whispered in bitter disappointment. Phineas patted her on the shoulder and dropped a kiss on her head.
“We tried,” he said. “That was all we promised to do.”
“I just can’t believe we’ve come so far to be stopped by this.”
Well,” remarked Phineas, “this is pretty extreme. I doubt anybody could get any further. Even someone as strong as Nazryth.”
Fenella recalled what Nazryth had said about their powers combining, and an idea came to her.
“Phineas,” she said reflectively. “Do you think we could open a channel back to Percy’s conscious?”
One of Phineas’ eyebrows raised. “And just how do you suppose we go about doing that?”
She shrugged. “Combine our magics, and just point it at a weaker-looking spot?”
Phineas stroked his chin and looked away into the distance, thinking. Then he lifted his shoulders. “I can’t see any reason not to try,” he said.
“I can,” expostulated soul-Percy, stumbling in between them. “It’s going to hurt, and I’d already decided that I was happy to move along to the soul plane.”
“But think about Mary,” urged Fenella. “By doing this, by making this sacrifice, you can bring about her happily ever after. Is she not worth that much to you?”
A sour expression crossed soul-Percy’s face. “Sadly, yes,” he said. “I would accept much by way of pain and inconvenience to make her happy. That does not mean I have to like it.”
Fenella grinned at him, then turned to Phineas.
“So, where do we start?” she asked, but Phineas was already examining the walls, looking for a likely place to start working. “There,” he said, pointing to a portion of the wall, a couple of inches in diameter, that seemed to have a thin yellow membrane stretched across, and the reddish color could still be made out underneath. Fenella nodded.
“That looks good,” she said. Beckoning to soul-Percy, she said, “You need to be ready to push your messages through as soon as we have an opening. Can we count on you for that?”
He nodded, but his expression was still pensive. Fenella grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry,” she said. “Everything is going to be fine. We’ll have you reconciled with Mary before you know it.”
“I know,” he said glumly. “But I was looking forward to the next part of the adventure.”
“You’ll still get to the soul plane, you know? It’ll just be after a lifetime of love and happiness.”
His expression cleared. “You’re right.” Rolling up his sleeves, he said,” I’m ready.”
Fenella took a deep breath in, and on the exhale said, “Okay. Let’s try this thing.”
She and Phineas took each other’s hand, and Fenella felt the sweep of joint energy she was certain her brother felt too. Together they reached their other hands out toward the pale patch.
“Careful,” warned Phineas. “Control.”
A gentle arc of sharp white lightning crossed from their hands to the spot. The membrane over the spot dissolved quickly, the underneath turned rosy and a thin shaft of light broke through the miasma on the wall.
“I think it might be working,” Fenella said, keeping her shining eyes on the patch. “Quick Percy, do what you need to do.”
Percy closed his eyes and soon, Fenella was astonished to see a stream of letters, numbers, and symbols, in all different colors and shapes, moving from Percy’s head to the little hole.
Even more surprising was as the stream passed through the hole, it got bigger, which meant more things could pass through.
“Our magic and your thoughts,” said Fenella, a sheen of perspiration crossing her forehead. Controlling the blackdark like this was extremely hard work. It was much easier just to let it go, to let it take over. She wondered what would happen if she did that, and as she did, the beam of magic she and Phineas produced got sharper and larger. The hole increased exponentially in size. Fenella’s eyes burned with excitement.
But Percy cried out in pain and fell back, his thoughts no longer working through the hole and it started to close up again.
“Fenella,” shouted Phineas. “Control.”
She clamped her jaw together and fought to bring her blackdark back completely under her control, which she was able to do in a moment or two.
&n
bsp; “Don’t do that again,” gasped soul-Percy. He righted himself and started his thought process again. Phineas turned to look at Fenella, his brows low with worry.
“Are you alright?”
Fenella nodded shortly, keeping her eyes on the hole and her jaw clamped.
“Do you need to stop?”
“Absolutely not.”
“This could take quite a while. I think we need to keep going until we’re sure the hole won’t close up all by itself.”
“I think you might be right,” Fenella replied, taking a deep breath, and redoubling her efforts to keep the bright line of magic under control and pointed at the right place.
She didn’t know how long they stood, side by side, feeding a little of their joint healing magic into Percy’s soul, and how long soul-Percy sent healing, positive thought back out to his body, but she did know that she teetered on the brink of total exhaustion by the time they were done. The flow of blackdark was faltering by then, along with her knees, that threatened to fail. She blinked owlishly at Phineas, who looked just as tired and drained as she did.
“Are we all done here?” Phineas asked, the exhaustion clear in his voice.
“Only one way to find out,” Fenella replied, and cut off her magic. Phineas did the same. Soul-Percy came to stand beside them and all three anxiously watched the now sizeable pink surface of soul for signs that it was being swallowed again by the mucus.
But it didn’t happen. The soul surface held, and after a minute, a wide grin broke out over Fenella’s face. “We did it,” she said, a note of glee in her voice.
“Yes, we did,” answered Phineas, and Fenella was pleased and a little bit embarrassed at the proud look he gave her.
Soul-Percy came up to the pair of them and threw his arms around them. “I can’t thank you enough,” he said, and the tears were close to the surface in his voice. “I was wrong. I’m not ready to move along to the soul plane. Thanks to you, I don’t have to.”
They bade him farewell and watched as he returned to passing thoughts across to his physical body, thoughts of love and healing that would, in time, bring him back around.
Fenella and Phineas transitioned back to the physical plane, and for a moment, there was a disconnect as her physical body and her soul tried to assimilate, one perspiring and exhausted, and the other fresh and normal. She ended up feeling a little breathless, and a light sheen of sweat broke out on her forehead.
“What happened?”
Mary sprung toward her, grabbing her arm. Fenella smiled. “I think we arrested it,” she said soothingly. “I think he’ll be okay.”
Mary hugged Fenella tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered in the fae’s ear.
Fenella moved away from Percy so that Mary could get close to him, noticing as she did that his color was improved, and his skin less clammy. He had not yet awakened, but Fenella felt sure he would do so shortly. She looked over to Phineas and shared a secret smile. Then her face fell, and she gasped.
“Oh, Phineas,” she said with fearful, round eyes. “I’m not supposed to use magic on anyone except my godchild!”
To Fenella’s surprise, Phineas chuckled. “I’m fairly sure that doesn’t apply to soul magic,” he said. “Besides, nobody knows we ‘re here, do they?”
“No,” replied Fenella, her alarm dissipating.
“Magic?”
Percy’s father came toward them, his agitation building. “Witchcraft?”
“No, sir. We aren’t witches.”
“Then what are you?”
Fenella and Phineas smiled widely, displaying their white, sharp, pointed teeth.
“We’re fae,” Fenella said, before she and Phineas winked out of sight.
Chapter Twenty-Two.
Sir Percy Pound and Lady Mary Prior were married in a simple ceremony a month after his doctor, astounded at his miracle recovery, declared him able to get out of bed. His wound, after being dreadful for so long, healed so quickly that Percy was mentioned by several eminent physicians in the London Medical Journal.
At the back of the church, two shadowy figures watched the ceremony. If one of the parishioners were to turn around, they might be able to concentrate in on the shadow and discern the fae inside, but the congregation was far too fixed on the happy couple to do that.
Fenella loved a wedding, especially one that she had a hand in. With a sharp nudge in the ribs, she murmured to Lachlan, who sat beside her, “Look at their auras.”
Lachlan nodded; his eyes fixed on the happy couple. He did not smile. “Humans really are simple, aren’t they? You give them food, shelter, clothing, and love, and they are happy. It’s just not that simple for us.”
Fenella’s expression clouded as she turned to him. “Are you not happy?”
His troubled eyes landed on Fenella’s face. “Are you?”
It seemed a strange question. “Yes,” she said hesitantly. “Why do you ask?”
He shrugged and turned his eyes back to the wedding. “I just wondered. Since you can’t use your blackdark. I wondered if it was affecting you.”
“Oh. That.” Fenella tossed up what to tell him. Should she tell him that she was even now working with Ravyn to improve her control and use of blackdark? Should she tell him that Sir Percy only stood before them because she and Phineas worked the healing magic on him? Should she tell him about Nazryth and the bond she shared with him?
She decided that, despite how much she loved him, Lachlan didn’t need to know everything. “I’m doing okay with it. To be honest, I haven’t really even thought about it.”
Lachlan’s encouraging smile cut her to the quick. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.” He slung an arm over the back of her pew. “You really don’t need it, to be a fairy godmother.”
“No,” she said, snuggling down into the crook of his arm, not feeling guilty at her deceit at all. “You really don’t.”
And together, they watched as Percy and Mary lived happily ever after.
The End
Author’s Notes
Thank you for joining me once again in the chronicles of Fenella.
More than once you’ve heard me mention the Seven Imperatives – the rules that all fairy godmothers must follow whilst bringing about their charges happily ever after. But have you wondered exactly what the Seven Imperatives are?
I take my definitions from the seminal work, “Imperatives” by H. Godwyn, scroll 1, paragraphs 4 to 11, where Godwyn describes them simply, then provides a full and in-depth explanation of each one in the chapters following. If you are interested, I suggest you look it up.
You, after reading this book and the previous one, already know what the First Imperative is: “The happily ever after takes precedence over everything else.” This is a catchall, designed to make it impossible for a fairy godmother to state there was some other circumstance that prevented her bringing about the happily ever after.
You’ve also already heard the Second Imperative: “A fairy godmother may only use her magic on her godchildren.” Fenella has fallen foul of this rule more than once and gotten out of a tight spot by only technically adhering to this imperative (see Miss Cheswick’s Charm).
The Third Imperative is also familiar to you: “A fairy godmother may not display her wings on Earth.” This is particularly so that they remain unnoticed by humans.
The Fourth Imperative is also to do with keeping the fae out of the notice of the humans: “A fairy godmother must never use magic where she can be seen by humans.” Of course, Fenella does this all the time – and frankly, most of the other fairy godmothers do too. It is taken as more of a suggestion than a rule, magic is used as sparingly as possible around humans. Still, trainee fairy godmothers are taught the Fourth Imperative as being just as important as the others, and then learn over time what can and cannot be accepted.
The Fifth Imperative is: “A fairy godmother must never bring a human back to Byd Tal’m.” This rule is for the human’s own protection – it is impossible to trav
el forward along the planes except, if like a fairy godmother, you have gone backwards first. Since Earth is the first plane, and Byd Tal’m the second, a human who travels to Byd Tal’m cannot return to Earth. Exceptions to the rule are, of course, changelings, who if not for being brought to Byd Tal’m, would not survive. But those changelings do not get the opportunity to return to Earth, they are integrated into fae society. (You may see how this also prevents fae from traveling to the soul realm (Byd Enaid, or the third plane)).
The Sixth Imperative is: “A fairy godmother must never attempt to sabotage the happily ever after of another fae.” This situation occurs rarely, where two fairy godmothers each have a happily ever after to bring about, but one of their two charges are not in love with the other. You may have seen this from time to time in your readings, in the love triangles that humans sometimes find themselves in. Of course, the happily ever after could be brought about by means of a polygamous relationship, but there is the thought that the three (or more) could not be happily ever after due to social conditioning. This viewpoint is slowly being eroded, as humankind become more sexually aware.
The Seventh Imperative is: “A fairy godmother must never willingly harm a human.” Fae, as a race, are a mischievous lot, and so you will notice that this directive only applies to fairy godmothers. It is not a command for fae to never hurt humans. However, a practising fairy godmother must take care not to harm humans. Fenella very nearly fell afoul of this rule when her blackdark took over and she wanted to kill Andrew Penny.
There are many other rules and regulations that apply to fairy godmothers, ranging from the color of their uniform (pink) through to timeliness (bringing about the happily ever after as soon as it can practicably be performed). But the Seven Imperatives underpin them all and serve as a guide for us today in gaining a rudimentary understanding of how the fairy godmother organisation works.