Queen of Sea and Stars

by Anna McKerrow

  No… no…no… Faye ran into the mist, away from Lyr. All she wanted was to forget; the guilt was too great, and she wanted oblivion like a drug. She wanted comfort. She wanted Rav and the cosy flat, all the mundane human things.

  She hated herself for her fickleness, in that moment. Why couldn’t she just decide, either way, who she was? Why couldn’t she just submit to the fae and their amoral ways, or forget faerie altogether and be happy in London with Rav? Human or fae? Light or shadow?

  As the mists took her, she was full of despair. She knew she was as much a part of the chains that lashed Aisha to the wall as the smiths of Murias that had forged them. But as she felt the solidity of the ordinary world form under her feet, and as the shadows thinned, Faye was too exhausted to think of a way to break them.

  Twenty-Two

  ‘You didn’t call or text. Nothing from you for over twenty-four hours! Where were you?’ Rav paced the lounge in his flat, furious. Faye stood in the corner of the room, watching his bare feet on the faded red and cream Oriental rug. Lyr had transported her back to the rose garden after her time in Falias; Gabriel had waited patiently for the hours that had passed until she returned.

  ‘I stayed at Annie’s. I forgot to text.’ She felt like a naughty schoolgirl being told off by her father, or, how she imagined that felt, having never experienced it. ‘I’m fine. As you can see.’ It was a lie, but if she told him the truth, she might lose him.

  ‘Faye, I was worried sick!’ Rav yelled. She understood why he was annoyed, but bristled at his tone.

  ‘You’re not my dad. I do have a life of my own, you know.’ The trauma of her time with Lyr hit her suddenly, like a rough shove; perhaps it was also the tiredness that came from visiting the faerie realms. Her head pounded and she sat down heavily on the sofa. It was too much, too real, all of a sudden. Did I really expect anything else from my faerie father? she thought angrily as she closed her eyes and massaged her temples with her fingers. He doesn’t want me. He wants what I can give him. He’s as heartless as the rest of them.

  ‘I know that. I was worried something had happened. Surely you can understand that, given our recent history?’ Rav’s tone softened, and she felt bad for lying about where she’d been.

  ‘I know,’ she breathed, trying not to exacerbate her headache. She should tell him, even if it caused an argument, or worse. She sighed. ‘I… I was…’

  She opened her eyes carefully, blinking at the light, thinking that she’d tell Rav, but the expression in his eyes halted her. His voice might have been soft, but his eyes were watchful. There was no trust there; she swallowed the words she’d been about to say.

  Instead, Faye looked around the room; a half-eaten takeaway sat on the coffee table along with a few empty beer cans. ‘You kept yourself busy, I guess. Dinner for one… or two?’ It was a pointed question, but she was angry and confused; and she hadn’t forgotten – or forgiven – coming home to Rav and Mallory’s cosy night in together.

  ‘What does that mean?’ Rav shot back.

  ‘You know what it means,’ she snapped back, her throat tense with the words she could have said. But would it have made this better or worse? She didn’t know, and the moment had gone.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re still going on about that.’ He stormed out of the room and into the kitchen. He came back, holding a bouquet of flowers: blue iris and white chrysanthemums, and threw them at her feet. ‘Mallory actually felt so bad about that night she dropped these around for you earlier. There’s a note.’ He shook his head, watching as she bent to pick the flowers up. ‘She wants to be your friend, Faye. Shame you don’t want to do the grown-up thing and just get on with her.’

  I’ve had quite the day, Faye thought wearily, so excuse me if I’m too tired for another argument. Nevertheless, she opened the white envelope; inside, there was a tasteful card featuring a detail from a painting she didn’t recognise. She read Mallory’s spiky, slanted handwriting:

  Dear Faye,

  I’m so sorry that you thought I was being inappropriate by visiting Rav the other night. Maybe I was – I’m used to him being there for me when I feel low; yes, we were a couple once, but now we are really ‘just good friends’ as the saying goes. However, I recognise that it’s not okay for me to just come around and pour out all my troubles to him any more; he’s got you now. I would like us to be friends, even though maybe I haven’t made the best start. I hope you like the flowers; maybe we can go out for a coffee sometime, just the two of us? But if you don’t want to, that’s totally okay and I will understand.

  All the best,

  Mallory

  Faye’s first instinct was to distrust the letter. Was this some kind of manipulation on Mallory’s part? If so, she was trying pretty hard to get Faye on side. Maybe Mallory really did want to be friends, in which case, Faye had totally misread her.

  ‘Oh.’ She didn’t know what else to say.

  ‘Oh is right. Maybe you should give her a call and say thank you.’ Rav held out his phone.

  ‘Give me her number, I’ll text,’ she replied tersely. Rav called it out to her, looking at his screen.

  Faye hesitated.

  ‘You going to say thank you?’ He stared pointedly at her phone.

  ‘God, can I get in the door first? I’ll do it later.’ She went to the bathroom to splash water on her face, avoiding his gaze. She knew she was being unreasonable, but she also knew Rav wouldn’t want to hear about what had happened with Lyr. To him, a polite reply to someone she hardly knew about a bunch of flowers was more important than the real reason she’d been gone for so long.

  Faye sat on the toilet lid and unlocked her phone. Might as well get it over with.

  Thanks for the flowers and card, Mallory. Faye x she typed. It was noncommittal but pleasant. She didn’t expect a reply; she very much suspected that the flowers were intended as a public relations exercise to raise Mallory’s profile with Rav, rather than sent with any particular care for her feelings. But Mallory replied almost immediately. So glad you like them. Coffee?

  Faye was surprised. She didn’t really want to meet up with Mallory, but what if the girl was genuine?

  She tapped out a quick reply. Sure, let me know where and when. She washed her hands and put the phone in her pocket, seeing that Mallory had suggested a coffee shop somewhere in the west end to meet up in a couple of days’ time. She was definitely keen to be friendly all of a sudden, but why?

  Rav was watching TV when she walked back into the lounge. She gave him a bright smile. Paper over the cracks, be happy! She felt like a 1950s wife. Don’t bring your husband your worries! He’s had a busy day. Put a ribbon in your hair and make sure the children play quietly.

  ‘We’re meeting for coffee this week,’ she said. He smiled, looking relieved.

  ‘Ah. That’s great.’ He patted the cushion on the sofa next to him. ‘Sorry if I was a bit… you know. I really was worried about you.’ He kissed her cheek as she sat next to him; it was a chaste kiss, almost brotherly.

  ‘I’m sorry too,’ she made herself say it, even though she didn’t feel it. ‘I’ll text next time.’

  ‘Just tell me next time so I don’t worry,’ he smiled, but his eyes evaded hers. She felt awful for the lie.

  They watched a TV documentary in silence, but Faye wasn’t paying attention to it at all; she was thinking about Lyr and Falias, and the bargain he’d offered her. It was a choice that was no choice: she couldn’t swap one human life for another in the faerie realms. What could she do? There had to be a way.

  She curled up next to Rav and nestled her head onto his chest. He rested his arm on her shoulder and stroked her hair with his wide palm: his were practical, reassuring hands. I have to fix this. I can’t leave Aisha in Murias. I just can’t. But – what? Trap another woman in her place, force her to bear Lyr’s child? Trading an innocent woman for Aisha wasn’t any kind of solution. There had to be something else. She imagined the problem to be a black, twisted labyrinth. E
very way she turned in it was a dead end; with every avenue, sharp thorns tore at her skin and drew blood. There must be a way out. There must be, she thought, closing her eyes. But she was tired, and the frustration and grief built in her, like a small girl running down a long corridor of doors, banging at every one of them with her fists, wanting one to open: just one. Come on, Faye, she goaded herself. There must be something you’re missing here. There has to be a door. There has to be a way to get to Aisha.

  A single tear rolled from under her eyelid and down her cheek; she wiped it away surreptitiously, the pressure of frustration building in her throat.

  ‘Faye?’ Rav tilted her head up to meet his eyes, a concerned expression in his face. ‘Faye, what is it? Please don’t cry.’ He held her face in his hands. She pulled away, not wanting him to see her cry. But the tears wouldn’t stop as Faye remembered Aisha, her beautiful face starved, the skin so tight over her bones. And frustration filled her that she was sitting here, on the sofa with Rav, not doing anything about it.

  ‘It’s Aisha, Rav. We have to do something about her, I can’t pretend it hasn’t happened any more. You’ve got to help me, please, please help me find Aisha.’ The words tumbled out of her; she couldn’t help it. Rav held her to his chest, stroking her hair, saying nothing. ‘You know where she is. Don’t pretend that you don’t.’ She tried to regain her composure, sitting up, wiping her eyes. ‘Please, Rav. I know you want us to have a normal life here. But I can’t. Not while I know she’s suffering.’

  ‘She might not be. Suffering,’ he said, in a quiet voice. ‘She went willingly, you said?’

  At least I’ve got him to acknowledge what actually happened, Faye thought.

  ‘You know what happens there. No-one goes willingly. They’re enchanted, and used, and when they can’t be used any more…’ Faye broke off, sorrow wrenching her heart. ‘You of all people know.’

  Rav sat up and leaned forward, his head in his hands. ‘Faye. Look, I don’t know if this is connected to where you were tonight… what you were doing. But, if I’m totally honest, I don’t want to know. You know I’m trying to forget what happened. I can’t. I just… can’t go back there. Or even think about it. Please understand. I know she was your friend. She was a nice girl. But…’ he sighed deeply.

  ‘But what? There is no but, Rav. Aisha is lost in Murias. She’s dying there.’ Faye raised her voice; it was instinctive, as if she could get him to hear her that way. He flinched at the word, but didn’t sit back down.

  ‘I can’t, Faye. Please understand. This is all I have. I’m doing everything I can to forget, to get my life back on track. You know how bad it’s been, the anxiety. I can’t… I just can’t engage in this kind of communal fantasy with you any more. It’s too destructive. I thought you… I thought you wanted to forget it, too.’

  ‘I can’t!’ she cried. ‘It’s in me, Rav. This is who I am. And it’s not a fantasy. You know that. And you know I can’t just leave Aisha there. I’m responsible for her. I rescued you.’

  ‘I didn’t ask to be sucked into your weird world!’ he shouted suddenly, standing up. ‘I didn’t ask for… that! I have nightmares about it every night. I’m paranoid every minute of the day that some –’ he waved his fingers in the air, as if conjuring up the fae – ‘some supernatural entity that’s obsessed with you decides he wants to kill me. D’you know what that’s like, Faye? D’you have any fucking idea how scary that is? I hate it. I hate that it makes me sound completely insane if I try and talk to my friends about it. And I hate it that I fell in love with you.’

  As soon as he’d blurted it out, Rav looked mortified.

  Faye took a step backwards, shocked.

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.’ He reached for her hands, but she wrenched them away. ‘Faye! Please. I love you. I… that came out wrong, okay?’

  ‘Did it? I don’t have the luxury of forgetting Murias.’ Faye stood up, facing him; when she met his eyes, he looked away. ‘This is who I am, Rav. You knew that when you said you wanted to be with me. Be honest with yourself. Don’t you think that at least some of your attraction to me is because I’m half-faerie? You could have chosen anyone else, but you chose me.’

  ‘I know. I didn’t mean it. I do love you. I just… you know I find that part of you… what happened… difficult. Come on, Faye. You have to understand that.’ He balled up his fists and slowly relaxed his hands, trying to control his emotions.

  ‘I don’t understand much right now. But this is who I am. There are… things about me being half-faerie that will never go away. I’ll never completely lose that part of myself.’ She thought suddenly of the bargain she’d made with Glitonea for a baby, and her stomach lurched; knowing that it would be the final nail in the coffin for her relationship with Rav, if she told him, even if she never became pregnant. ‘I… I’m still working it out. But I want us to work,’ she said it because it was true; she loved Rav, but she was angry at him, too. ‘I have to do something about Aisha. Okay? I can’t pretend that’s not happening. I can be your girlfriend, we can be together, we can have the happy life you want… that I want. But I have a responsibility towards her, and I’m not going to leave her there.’

  And as far as the baby curse goes, we can deal with that if and when it happens, she thought. Perhaps it was a cavalier attitude, but it was a practical one. She could only fix one traumatic situation at once. And perhaps, by growing in power as a witch, she’d be able to fight the power of faerie when it tried to ruin her life. Perhaps.

  ‘I know. I… I guess all we can do is be honest with each other,’ Rav sighed, and a knife twisted in Faye’s heart; Lyr had made it possible for her to talk about the curse now, but it felt impossible to bring it up. ‘You know how I feel. I know how you feel. There’s got to be a way we can work past this… I mean, couples have faced worse together and stayed standing, right?’

  She made herself smile. ‘Sure.’

  Faye could make it right, but it would be something she’d do on her own.

  Rav hugged her hard; she could feel the desperation in his embrace. He held on to her as if she was a life raft in a stormy sea. But I’m the storm, not the raft, she thought, sadly. You’d be better off without me. Yet she didn’t want to lose him, so she hugged him back just as fiercely.

  Twenty-Three

  She dreamed of Finn Beatha again.

  In the dream, they weren’t in Murias. She was banned from the faerie kingdom of water; instead, Finn took her to an in-between-place under the waves; perhaps it existed only as a place in the dream world, where anything was possible. As she fell under the spell of his hot, sweet touch, she found herself with him in a golden four-poster bed with ripped, gauzy white curtains that rippled in the warm current under a turquoise sea.

  As it was a dream, she could breathe underwater, just as she had on the kelpie’s back on the way back from the Crystal Castle. The usual rules, such as they were with a faerie king, didn’t apply.

  The bed sat atop a grey-green hunk of rock on the sea bed; beyond them, the white sand of the sea floor stretched away to the underwater horizon. Time had no meaning here; though her dreams may have passed in minutes, she spent hours with Finn, making love in every way possible. She surrendered herself to him completely: on her knees, on her back, she took everything he had to give her, and wanted him more for it.

  In the daytime, when Faye thought of Finn, she hated herself for doing so. But tonight, the defences of her rational brain were released, and her instincts could take over. Tonight, she welcomed his ethereal kisses; she welcomed him as he took her down under the waves.

  ‘Be my lover, Faye,’ Finn breathed against the nape of her neck. ‘I miss you.’

  Her body was addicted to the rush of Finn; when she was with him, she forgot everything else, even herself. Yet, though it was a dream, she steeled herself not to answer. She wanted to say yes; he was like a drug, and she’d do anything to continue the high of being in his golden light. She knew from experience
that dreams were more real than they seemed, when Finn was concerned. He could reach her there, as he could in all the between-places, like the seashore at Abercolme.

  But even though her flesh craved him, and her mind craved the languorous high of one too many glasses of champagne that being with Finn brought, she shook her head.

  ‘Faye, my love. No mortal woman is one such as you,’ he breathed against her skin, and roses bloomed from the nape of her neck to the delicate arches of her feet. Kissing her breasts, then her stomach, his lips trailed to her hip, where he lingered, brushing his fingers softly against her clit.

  In her sleep, she sighed deeply and rolled over; the contact with Rav’s back brought her back to reality a little.

  ‘Faye, sidhe-leth, come to me. Be my lover, my courtesan, my one most desired,’ he breathed. As Faye’s eyes fluttered open, the dream fell into soft shards; closing her eyes for one moment more, she watched as the tide-torn silk curtains of the bed scattered themselves like confetti over both of them. The water makes us a wedding Finn’s voice teased her ear: celebrations for the lovers.

  But there will never be a wedding, and you will never treat me as anything other than your whore. As it was a dream, Faye wasn’t sure whether she’d said it or not, but if she had, Finn showed no sign of having heard her. Instead, he dipped his head, watching her with devilment in his eyes, and kissed her slowly, tortuously, making her writhe in the sheets.

  ‘Don’t forget me.’ He smiled, looking up at her, denying her pleasure now. ‘The King of Murias awaits you at your pleasure, Faye Morgan. If you desire Murias, it desires you: only by admitting your desire for me will you find your way back here.’

  She opened her eyes, feeling the heat in her body and the wild beating of her heart as the magic of Murias resonated in her bones and thrummed electric under her skin. Desire was the way back, but she’d made her choice.