by Amanda Fleet
“I am so sorry about Finn,” said Ösk, his dark blue eyes clouding. “I knew him from the gym. He was always so much fun.”
Tears stabbed at my eyes and my throat felt tight. “Yeah. He was.”
“Oh, he was such a beautiful man,” said Lena. “So beautiful. And such a wonderful person.”
Her words confirmed what I’d suspected for a while. So she had fancied him. I looked at Polly and Mike, waiting to see what they might say. They’d barely given either me or Finn the time of day, apart from the one time Mike’s car wouldn’t start and he’d asked Finn for help.
“Yes, we were both sorry to hear about Finn,” said Mike. “I heard it was flu.”
“Mm.”
“It was so quick!” he added, sounding incredulous.
And tactless.
“Mm.”
“I’ve never seen you without your make-up before.” Polly obviously felt as if she ought to contribute something to the conversation. “You look so different! So normal.”
I stifled a smile, imagining what Finn would have made of that. Lena shot Polly a filthy look. I suspected that Polly and Mike had been forced to come by Lena.
“Er, when’s the funeral?” asked Ösk.
“Friday morning. The Catholic church. No flowers.”
They all nodded. Ösk and Lena would probably come to it, but I doubted that Mike or Polly would.
I shifted on my seat, my knees aching. I’d got my feet tucked back under my seat to leave leg-room for everyone else. The room was barely big enough for me and Finn, never mind five adults in here. Granted, Lena and Polly were smaller than me, but Mike was almost as tall as me and Ösk a little bigger.
“Who was that who was hassling you yesterday?” asked Lena, her brow creasing.
“Rick. Um, the guy who runs the tattoo place. He’s a friend.”
He was a friend. Until Aegyir killed him.
“He didn’t seem that friendly yesterday.”
“No. I don’t know what’s wrong. He’s been a bit off with me for a while.”
“Well, if he hassles you again, call me. Ösk or I will come over if you need us to.”
I was genuinely heartened. “Thanks. That’s really kind of you.”
Mike and Polly were already fidgeting and I decided to help them out. “It’s lovely of you all to come over, but I’m going to have to chase you out. I have a pile of things to do and it’s been a difficult day today. I’m just back from the funeral director’s.”
“Oh! Yes, of course,” said Polly, springing up as if burned. “We only came over to say how sorry we were.”
“Let us know if there’s anything we can do?” said Lena, getting to her feet more slowly. “We’re just down the lane.”
Belatedly, Mike realised he and Polly should have made the offer and he mumbled an assurance that they were there too.
“Thanks guys.”
Everyone was standing and Lena pulled me into a deep hug. “Oh, Rea. He was so wonderful. I’m so sorry!”
I extricated myself from her, only to be instantly swept into a hug from Ösk. “Take care. And call us if we can do anything.”
“Thanks. I will.”
We all knew I wouldn’t.
As soon as they’d gone, the silence crowded in on me. It was a different silence from when I’d been home without Finn in the past. When he was alive. It was as if the cottage knew that it had lost someone. Needing noise, I filled the kettle to make a coffee, clattering the spoon in the jar and rattling it around the mug. But as soon as the coffee was made, the silence seeped back. I picked up the mug and sat in the lounge, staring at the floor, counting the swirls in the carpet.
“I’ve been thinking about Friday.”
I turned my head to see Finn. He was wearing sweat pants and a hoodie and looked like he’d just got out of bed. Immediately, the cottage felt right again.
“Yeah? Which bit?”
“The Aegyir bit. I’m not sure you should go. You’ll get hurt.”
I breathed deeply. “I might. But then I’m getting dead afterwards, so what does it matter?”
“I don’t want you dead.” His eyes clouded.
“Why not?”
“I just don’t. You’re young. You’re about to start your dream job. It’s a waste.”
“You think any of that means anything to me?”
He blinked slowly. “No. But… Mum will be devastated.”
Alison would be devastated. But she would also know why I felt I couldn’t keep trudging through this life without Finn. Even if I could find a way to live without him, I couldn’t find a way to live with my guilt. He was dead because of me. The very least I could do would be to try to avenge it.
“Your mum’ll understand.”
He pushed his bottom lip out and I closed my eyes, tired.
“Finn, let’s not talk about it?”
I clicked the television on, my usual way to indicate a conversation was over. It was some terrible programme about buying a load of junk and then trying to sell it for a profit. Neither team was making much of a fist of it, but given the dreadful bits of tat they’d bought, it wasn’t a surprise. I muted the sound, waiting for the news to come on.
“Were you going to ask me to marry you?” I said, tilting my head towards him.
Finn looked startled. “Mum tell you?”
“Yeah. Were you?”
“Mm. On your birthday. I’d chosen the ring. Well, I’d seen one I thought was nice and was gonna ask you if you liked it, if you said yes.”
“If? You had any doubts?” I grinned at him and he shook his head. “What was the ring like?”
“Diamond, with two emeralds – one on either side. Match your eyes.”
A sob swirled in my chest before I swallowed it down. How different things could have been. I never asked for any of what had happened.
“Church or registry office?” I said, my voice hitching.
“Your choice. I suspected you wouldn’t want Catholic.”
I smiled. “No. Church would have been a bit hypocritical all round really. Registry would have been great. Your mum would have wanted church though.”
“Yeah, but I couldn’t imagine you going through the classes with Father O’Keefe.”
“Oh, like you could have!”
He chuckled.
The news came on but I wasn’t interested in the main headlines for the UK; I wanted to know how many more people had died at Aegyir’s hands, even if they were being attributed to flu.
“Where would we have gone on honeymoon?” I asked.
“Where would you have liked?”
He bunted down the sofa towards me and I’d swear it creaked when he did.
“Somewhere quiet. Just the two of us in the middle of nowhere. Scotland maybe?”
“Sounds perfect. And cheap enough for me to have afforded!”
I laughed. “The bride’s family’s supposed to pay for it. Remember?”
“Yeah, like either of us would have accepted a penny from Helen and John!”
“True. But Paul would have chipped in.”
“He’s coming up isn’t he?”
“Mm.”
The picture on the TV changed to one of the town centre and I turned the volume back up. Our death toll was hitting the main UK bulletin – both because of the number of flu victims and because there appeared to be a serial killer on the loose. The toll for alleged flu victims had now passed fifty and the number of bodies found at the quarry was thirteen. Not including Rick’s.
The reporter said that a local man had been helping them with their enquiries and the footage showed what could only have been Aegyir-as-Rick as he came out of the police station. Would he be able to make the police think he was innocent by having a genuine alibi for the earliest deaths, before Rick had been killed? The faces of the victims were shown. I recognised some of them as people who had either stared at me or talked to me and wondered if others were going to link them to me. At least the guy who’d h
elped me this afternoon wasn’t one of the victims. Yet.
A health official came on to remind people to get the flu jab and to say that there would be mobile clinics set up to help with the increased numbers demanding them. Another scientist came on to talk about the fact that they hadn’t yet been able to isolate the strain of flu responsible, but that taking the anti-virals he was recommending would help, regardless of which strain it turned out to be. What did he know? They hadn’t worked yet.
“How many deaths do there need to be before the Scouts tell the Guardians?” I mused out loud.
Finn brightened fractionally. “Maybe the Guardians will come and sort out Aegyir before Friday, and then you won’t have to.”
Maybe. But even if they did, it wouldn’t change the rest of my plans.
Two more days.
26
It was mid-morning when I awoke from a full-house of hellish dreams. Lilja, the enigmatic, timeless woman, had told me to return home so that Aegyir would be defeated; the two men who hated me had banished me for the umpteenth time; I’d watched ‘my’ entire family be slaughtered by Aegyir who had also insisted on standing right next to me in the room, telling me he was coming for me and that he would make me keep my promises. I was exhausted. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt so utterly devastated. The bed smelled of Finn and I wrapped the covers around me and bawled my heart out.
Spent, I scraped myself out of bed and into the shower, turning the flow up as high as it would go. The water was ice-cold as a result, shocking me into the here and now. I hurried to get dressed before the cottage chilled me to the core, and made myself a coffee, piling empty beer bottles into the recycling crate while the kettle boiled. No wonder I felt so shit.
In the lounge, I turned on the telly to tune into the local news. Another body had been found, this one on the outskirts of town.
“Shit.”
Had Aegyir broken his word to me? Had he killed someone since our pact on Tuesday? Did that mean that I could call the deal off?
Did it matter? I wanted to stick those knives in Aegyir and decapitate him, regardless. Not because I wanted to save this world from his ravages, though a part of me acknowledged that should be worthy enough in its own right. No, I wanted to stab and behead that bastard because he had taken Finn from me. I would be at the rock face on Friday, whether the deal was technically off or not.
I clicked the telly off. I had too much to do to end up suckered into mindless daytime TV. Keep busy, Alison had said. Oh, I had more than enough to keep me busy today. By this time tomorrow, I would be with Finn and I had a lot of ends to tie up first. I also had less than a day to write the bloody eulogy and I was running out of excuses to avoid it.
First, I had some weapons to stash.
We’d put the vessel, sword and daggers in the cupboard in the kitchen after the fateful encounter at the boulder. I laid the pot and the daggers on the table and propped the sword against the wall, wondering what I should take up to the rock face and what I should leave here. My plan was to come back to the cottage before meeting Aegyir at the rock face, but I didn’t want to leave that to chance. What if I wasn’t able to retrieve things? No, I either needed to take things with me to the funeral, or to have hidden them up at the rock face before I met Aegyir. Would Aegyir be stupid enough not to check the gorse bush where we’d hidden the sword last time, before he met me? What would happen if I got up there and found that everything I needed had been disposed of?
I weighed the pot and leather pouch of knives in my hand. The daggers I could take in my bag with me; the pot and the sword were too big or heavy to be carrying around with me. They would have to be hidden up at the meeting site. Granted, having a bag full of knives in public was a criminal offence but I didn’t think anyone would search me at a funeral.
The leather pouch wasn’t the easiest thing to open in a hurry. I slid the daggers out and examined them. Was there a way of secreting them about me before I had to go up to the boulder, without them digging into me and slicing me to ribbons? Ideally, they would be in a belt around my middle, as depicted in the book, but that was asking for trouble. I would just have to leave them in my bag during the funeral and tuck them in my belt before I met Aegyir.
I mentally scanned the area, trying to remember what else had been close by that could act as a hiding place, but couldn’t bring a clear enough image to the front of my brain. I’d have to see what was available when I took the sword and pot up there.
No time like the present.
I found a long coat that would conceal the sword well enough, though only the next door neighbours were potential witnesses and Polly and Mike already thought I was strange. As soon as I was past the gate and on to the track, no one could see me. Best to be sure though. I slipped the sword through a belt so that its hilt held it in place along my leg and fastened the coat over the top. The vessel was a lot easier to deal with – it was heavy but it fitted in a large backpack. Loaded up, I set off.
There was a light drizzle as I crunched my way up the stony track. No one saw me and I strode up the hill to the edge of the field where the track turned into the thin path leading to the rock face. It was good to be out. There was a sweet tang of damp soil in the air and the rain on my face reminded me that I was alive. At least for the moment.
I let my brain run over everything I needed to do before tomorrow. I’d spent the remains of yesterday getting the cottage and the remnants of my life in order, which was what had pushed me into clearing the house of beer last night. My head wasn’t thanking me for that this morning. There were a few odds and ends that needed finishing up, but I could do them after I killed Aegyir. My main focus was making sure that I had the sword and vessel handy.
I reached the large, rounded boulder and cast around, making sure that I knew where the soil had been scattered and trying to spot potential locations for the sword and vessel. To my dismay, the best location was the exact place we’d stashed the sword before. Nowhere else was close enough to the soil for me to be able to reach out and grab the sword. If I could have someone else there it would be easier, but I’d be alone.
I poked about in the gorse, getting my hands scratched by the spikes, before finally deciding that I didn’t have any choice. It was here or nowhere unless I was going to stroll about with a sword in my belt like I was an extra from a TV show. I concealed the sword, muttering a silent prayer for it not to be discovered. The vessel was slightly easier to hide as there was a small space in the gorse where a branch had broken off, leaving a void behind it. I put the vessel in, making sure it was hidden from view but easy to grab when the time came. The only issue left would be how to carry the daggers. I needed to have them in my belt when I got up here. Perhaps after the funeral I could take them out of my bag, tuck them in a belt and fasten my jacket over the top to hide them. Whatever I chose, leaving them up here wasn’t a viable option. They would either be too scattered or held in the leather pouch and harder to access.
I circled the gorse bush a few times. The sword was invisible to any passer-by but would be found immediately if anyone went hunting for it. Should I leave it? Should I take it back and think of a way to conceal it on me tomorrow?
I leaned my back against the rock face, staring at the gorse bush.
“Traitor.”
I caught my breath and snatched myself away from the rock. There had been so much venom in the voice. I turned to face the rock.
“Send some fucking Scouts out here! See what’s going on! We need some Guardians!”
My voice ricocheted off the rock and I glared at the stone. I don’t know what I expected to happen. A troop of soldiers to come marching out of the cliff? There was nothing. I turned away, ready to make my way back down the hill.
“You are not welcome, Aeron.”
Pissed off, I turned on the spot. “Will I be more welcome after I do your dirty work for you? Anyway, don’t worry about it. I have no intention of coming in! I owe you nothing!”
One more day.
27
Pearly grey light crept into the bedroom and my eyes were gritty from a lack of sleep. As I lay in the gloaming, the margins between reality and the world of my dreams were so blurred they barely existed. It was probably exhaustion, coupled with the stress of what was coming, but I felt as if I was two people, superimposed upon each other. Part of me was Reagan – grieving, hopeless, shattered Reagan who wanted to die. Part of me felt fierce and angry and maligned and desperate to put some stories straight. They met in the middle. Furious, devastated Reagan who wanted to destroy the monster that had killed Finn.
My dreams had been full of emotion-wrenching horror. In one, Lilja had been sobbing. In another, she was begging me to come home, telling me that Aegyir was too strong and that I would never defeat him Outside. Aegyir had popped up in the rest of my dreams, laughing, claiming he would have his revenge and that the time was soon. The only dream that hadn’t been full of the Realm had been of Finn’s death.
It was almost seven. The funeral would be at ten. I still hadn’t written the eulogy and I was due to meet Paul at nine. Scraping my hair back, I crawled out of bed.
“Finn?”
Nothing.
“Hey. Finn. I need you. Get your sorry ass in here.”
Still nothing.
I stripped off and stood under the shower, keeping the flow on maximum, needing to be drenched. The water cascading over me was significantly colder than blood temperature but I didn’t care. In the grand scheme of things, that was nothing. Not compared to burying Finn. My hope that the water would wash away all the nightmares of the night before wasn’t fulfilled. Whenever I closed my eyes, the backs of my eyelids were covered with images of slaughter and blood, of trials and banishment, of hatred and betrayal.
I switched the water off, chilled to my core and wrapped a scratchy towel around me. I rubbed myself dry so hard that my skin shone pink. I had no shortage of black clothes so I chose comfort over style and my favourite black boots rather than anything delicate. Finn would be laughing at the ensemble. I slung a leather belt around my waist. It didn’t match the rest of the outfit, but I was going to need it later.
