‘Faye Morgan. I’m… I’m your brother Lyr’s daughter.’ Faye bowed her head again.
The queen regarded her for a moment and let out a sigh.
‘Fine. My robe!’ she shouted, and a faerie servant, rather like the gnomes Faye remembered from Murias, emerged from the shadows, handing Moronoe a ruby-red gown of some kind. The queen nodded to a door at the far end of the room. ‘In there,’ she ordered, pulling the robe around her.
Forty-Four
Moronoe had the same dark beauty as her brother Lyr, but her black hair was braided and dreadlocked, partly piled on her head and partly threaded with ribbons, reaching the floor. The robe that she drew casually around her body was a deep wine-coloured red velvet, though different to the gowns that Faye had become accustomed to in Murias; Moronoe’s ample breasts bulged from the front opening and her arms strained at the velvet fabric. Instead of the delicate leather boots and shoes Faye had worn in the water kingdom, Moronoe’s feet were bare and covered in smudges of mud and dust. She settled herself into another throne, though this one was much grander, made of gold and studded with natural crystals, which sat at one end of a much smaller room. The same roots grew into the room from the earth walls, but they were alone, and there was no other furniture apart from a golden table next to the throne on which there was a large bowl of fruit and a cup of wine. If she was in a dream, it wasn’t an ordinary one. Yet Faye knew that her body sat, slumped, in the chair next to Gabriel’s bed.
Faye bowed her head again.
‘Blessings to you, my queen. I come—’
Moronoe interrupted her, biting at a pomegranate from the fruit bowl, spitting the thick pith onto the floor and licking the fruit’s sticky juice from her palm. ‘I know why you’re here. I summoned you. I know who you are. Approach the throne.’
That would explain it. Faye approached her aunt carefully.
‘You summoned me? Am I… in a dream?’ she asked.
‘After a fashion,’ the queen replied. ‘Closer.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘Hm. You don’t have our colouring. A shame.’
‘I’m… I’m sorry, my queen.’
‘Aunt. I am your aunt. And I am also a queen, though not your queen. Be correct in your expression,’ Moronoe chided.
‘I’m sorry, I… Aunt,’ Faye stammered, taken off guard.
‘No matter. You are blood and that is enough.’
‘Why did you summon me here?’ Faye was wary; her journey through the trees had been pleasant enough, but she knew that she should fear Moronoe as much as any of the other faerie kings and queens.
Moronoe leaned forward and studied Faye’s face.
‘You are with child, niece. But you cannot have the baby. It will be too dangerous.’ The fairy queen sat back in her throne. ‘It isn’t too late. A little tea and your problem will not be a problem any more.’
‘No, I… I don’t want that.’ Faye’s hands shielded her belly protectively. ‘I mean… I don’t need it.’
‘Many come to me for it,’ her aunt sighed and clicked her fingers at the rabbit goblin. ‘Hermione will fetch it.’
Faye’s stomach lurched as if in reply to Moronoe’s offhand statement. No, no, no her inner voice pleaded. This isn’t happening.
‘How can you be sure?’ Faye whispered. A little problem, Moronoe’s words echoed in her mind. Just a little tea, and the problem goes away.
‘Because I am the Faerie Queen Moronoe, the ruler of the element of Earth. All bodies are made of earth. I am sovereign ruler of all material life – human, animal and plant – and I govern the eternal flow of birth, life and death. I am the womb of the world and also its grave. Trust me that I know when seeds of new life grow in one such as you.’ The queen held out her arms towards Faye who watched as a vine twisted along Moronoe’s arm. Grapes bulged from the stems and swelled to ripeness; as Faye watched, enthralled, the deep purple fruit split open and then shrivelled. The vine retracted as if it had never been and Moronoe shrugged.
‘You should know as well as anyone that the circle of life follows its path, death and life, life and death,’ she said. ‘I know you lost your friend in Murias. Do you understand now the power that the faerie realms hold?’ she demanded.
Faye took in a deep breath, feeling her stomach twist in grief. Yes, she knew. She could never forget Aisha.
‘Glitonea started to teach me. About the magic of water—’ Faye ventured.
‘Glitonea is not your blood. The High Queen of Murias should not be instructing my niece in the ways of power!’ Moronoe shouted, and Faye stepped back in alarm as the roots in the walls shrivelled and the flowers on the table next to Moronoe shed their petals. ‘You went to her, and she asked that of you that should never be asked. She asked you for a child. You must know that if you gave her the child that is inside you, Murias would gain a terrible weapon against us. Against your own kind.’
‘I wouldn’t give her my baby. Ever,’ Faye retorted. ‘I made the bargain, but I had no choice.’
‘There is always a choice, niece. You just mean that you disliked the options.’
‘Whatever.’ Faye wasn’t in the mood to be lectured, and for a moment she forgot who she was standing in front of; she’d reverted into a defensive mood, like when Grandmother used to tell her off. Her mother Moddie never had done much lecturing; she wanted to be more like a sister to Faye. I became a mother too young, she’d been prone to saying. I love you more than the world, but I missed out on being young when I had you.
If I’m pregnant, what will it do to my life? Faye wondered. And whose baby is it? Rav or Finn?
‘Do not sass me, Faye Morgan,’ Moronoe snapped. ‘You are thinking of your own mother. She was Lyr’s lover, and she fell pregnant by him. She was young, yes. Younger than you are now.’
‘I… I don’t know if I’m ready. To be a mother,’ Faye mumbled.
‘No-one is ever ready. It is in your fate to have a child: that, I can see. But it is your choice as to when and how.’
‘How do you…’ Faye started to ask, but Moronoe raised an eyebrow, and Faye didn’t finish the question. It seemed irrelevant. Instead, she asked ‘If I’m pregnant—’
‘You are with child. I assure you of that.’ Moronoe nodded her head.
‘Whose is it, then? Rav or Finn?’
Moronoe narrowed her eyes; Faye felt as though she was being stared through, that Moronoe could see her bones, sinews; nothing was hidden from her.
‘I do not see any fae in this baby apart from that which you bring to it. He will look like his father, who is dark haired. If he is born. Which cannot happen.’
Rav. She was pregnant with Rav’s baby. Faye suddenly felt the need to sit down. In her bones, she knew Moronoe was right; she was pregnant; the sickness hadn’t been entirely due to the effects of Murias. She’d felt different; her whole body felt softer, stranger. Rav’s baby.
Faye genuinely had no idea whether that was better or worse than the baby being Finn’s. She felt a wave of relief that she wouldn’t have to explain herself to Rav that it wasn’t his – but that relief was immediately shadowed by the realisation that she and Rav were no longer together.
But this is different. This will change everything between us. For the better, perhaps she thought. And then, another thought came: Do I want it to?
And what about Finn? Faye was ashamed of the thought that followed, but nonetheless it came: will he still want me?
‘If you have the baby, Glitonea will want it. You made the bargain with her. And, in fact, I imagine that you getting pregnant in the first place is her doing. She wants what is owed to her and she will stop at nothing to get it.’
‘But she won’t be able to just steal a baby away from me!’ Faye protested, but she could hear the weakness in her own voice. ‘And how… what would she do? How could she make me pregnant?’
‘Your grandmother told you the stories of the fae. Of them taking babies from their cribs in broad daylight. If you have the baby, she will take it. And hav
e no doubt that she will have cast a fertility charm on you. Murias is famous for such things.’
‘What about Finn? What will he do?’ Faye couldn’t meet the faerie queen’s stare in response, but she needed to know. He would be angry. What would he do if he found out that his lover was pregnant by her human lover?
‘You already know what he will do. Rage at you. Hurt you, perhaps. Finn Beatha is tempestuous and foolhardy. He lives by desire, and desire only.’ Moronoe rolled her eyes. ‘The faerie kings are so emotional. They overreact. They conduct wars, they hold dramatic grudges and then change their minds. The queens are, for the most part, far more rational.’ The faerie queen sighed.
‘He may try and harm you in jealousy. Or he will try to harm your human lover again. He is predictable in his unpredictability. However, you are under my protection now, and as such, he cannot harm you or the child. However…’ she mused for a moment. ‘If Finn found out that his sister had helped you to conceive another man’s child, I have no doubt that it would cause some friction between them.’ She smiled then, like a fat, satisfied cat.
‘And that Glitonea is responsible for your escape with the human in the first place. Interesting.’ Moronoe was watching her shrewdly; from time to time as they talked, an animal would emerge from one of the many holes and burrows in the wall and curl up on the queen’s lap, or nestle in the folds of her capacious gown. She stroked them absently as she talked.
The rabbit-creature, Hermione, set a rough stone cup in front of Faye. In it, a clear liquid steamed; Faye picked up the cup and frowned at the dried herbs that floated in the water.
‘I am your aunt. I called you here because I want to protect you.’ Moronoe picked up a squirrel by the scruff of the neck and set it carefully on the dirt floor, where it found the crumbs of food she’d dropped and began feasting on them. ‘Drink, and all will return to the way it was.’ The faerie queen watched the squirrel, smiling as if it were her child.
‘But this is Rav’s and my baby. Doesn’t he get some say in the matter?’ Faye appealed to the faerie queen, who glared at her in response, her mien changing suddenly, from indulgent mother to terrible queen.
‘Does he deserve to know? He has not treated you honourably! It is your body that will bear the child. Grow it. Feed it and nurture it. And you will care for the child when it is born. His opinion is moot!’ Moronoe cried; for a brief moment, the ground under her shook.
‘I… it seems right that I should at least tell him,’ Faye stammered.
‘No!’ Moronoe shouted, and her voice was the grinding of rock on rock. ‘It would be one thing if you had intended the child together, if you had brought it forth in love and with plans for the future. But this Rav, whose opinion you hold in such high regard…’ Moronoe made a dismissive noise, and reached for a black mirror in an ornate gold frame that lay propped against her throne. She passed her hand over it and tilted it so that Faye could see. ‘This is the truth. Though I understand that my brother has taken the girl now, so the way is clear for you to reunite with the human, should you wish to. After your problem is dealt with, of course.’
Reluctantly, Faye looked in the glass.
Mallory and Rav lay entwined in Rav’s bed, sleeping. Mallory’s arm was draped over Rav’s chest, and moonlight slanted through the curtains, bathing them in its blue-white glow. Faye closed her eyes and pushed the mirror away. He had denied it, and he’d lied. It didn’t matter now, but it still hurt.
‘Moon tea. Pennyroyal, rue and blue cohosh. You will bleed for a few days and have sickness, but Glitonea’s control over you will be gone. Drink.’ Moronoe’s voice was firm, and Faye felt a kind of fugue come over her, a little like when she was with Finn. She felt herself lift the cup to her lips. The stone was cold against her mouth. ‘It’s better this way, niece. You will have a baby in the years to come, another child, free of obligation to the faerie realm. But not this one.’ Moronoe’s voice spun a charm around her. Faye felt terribly tired.
‘Drink it up; there’s a good girl.’ Moronoe’s voice was soft and persuasive and Faye tipped the cup towards her lips.
Forty-Five
Faye dropped the cup onto the dirt floor; the liquid spilled out into a puddle, and the cup rolled away. The steam was pungent and it had awoken her from her daze.
‘I don’t want it.’ Faye shook herself, horrified that she’d almost drunk it without really wanting to. ‘It’s not for me.’
‘Then you are a fool,’ Moronoe retorted. ‘If you have that child, Glitonea will take it from you. Better that you end it now and save your grief, and the fate of the child.’
‘There will be another way. There must be!’ Faye cried. ‘Surely Lyr wouldn’t stand by and—’ but Moronoe laughed cruelly, interrupting her.
‘Lyr is the father of countless bastards that he has no interest in protecting. Don’t expect him to help you.’
‘But… there must be something I can do. Please, my queen. Help me.’
The faerie queen stared at Faye with a grim expression.
‘Drink the tea,’ she repeated.
Faye thought, furiously. ‘What if I go home, back to Abercolme? I won’t tell anyone about the baby.’ The faerie queen kept an unbroken eye contact with Faye, frowning.
‘Finn and Glitonea will know where you are, regardless. You cannot hide from them.’ She shook her head. ‘Better you end it now.’
‘I won’t do that.’ Faye met Moronoe’s gaze levelly. ‘I can’t avoid them knowing where I am, and I can’t stop them knowing that I’m pregnant. But if Glitonea wants the baby, then she knows I have to carry it to term. That I have to be healthy, and I have to stay in the ordinary world to be well, right? It would be too risky to transport me into Murias, wouldn’t it? At least for long periods of time?’
Moronoe nodded. ‘Your human body needs human food, water, the nourishment of the human world. She knows this as well as I.’
‘All right. So, she’ll watch me, but she’ll think I’m honouring the bargain.’
‘And then what? When it’s born?’ Moronoe demanded. ‘She will not change her mind. She will take the child. Are you willing to give it up?’
‘No.’ Faye shook her head. ‘But you can help me. Hide us here. Glitonea can’t come here, can she?’
The faerie queen gave Faye a calculating look.
‘No, you would be safe here. But you would have to re-enter the human world at some point. You are only half-faerie, and your human body needs to be in its element.’
‘What about the baby?’ Faye was desperate, but she had to find a way to protect it. She’d no more drink the moon tea than cut her own throat. She could see that it would be a logical option, but Faye just couldn’t do it. ‘Could you keep it here? Until it was… I don’t know. Old enough to not be of interest to Glitonea any more? I mean, how old would that even be? When will she stop being interested in the child?’
‘You could bear the child with the help of the fae midwives,’ Moronoe mused. ‘You would not suffer, for they are skilled in the childbearing arts. And when the child is born, I could keep him here. He would be protected in my realm.’
Faye looked around her, at the rough walls of dirt and roots.
‘But for how long?’ She hated the thought of trusting Moronoe, but it was the only solution she could think of. At least here, the baby would be protected.
‘It is possible that I could teach him magic, when he is old enough,’ Moronoe suggested. ‘It might be enough to deter her. Or, she may only want a baby. A child may not suit her purposes, in which case, we need only keep him here until he is four or five of your human years.’
‘But don’t you know for sure?’ Faye demanded. ‘This is my child we’re talking about! I’m considering giving him up to be looked after in your realm. I need to know it’s going to be safe.’
Moronoe glared at her.
‘How can I know what is in Glitonea’s mind? I can guess, with reasonable clarity. But she is one power, I am another,’ th
e faerie queen thundered. ‘Let us not forget that it is you that is asking me for a favour here, niece. Perhaps a little more gratefulness might be in order.’
Faye took in a deep breath.
‘I am grateful for your help. But you have to understand that I’m trying to find some kind of workable solution to…’ she shook her head. ‘To an unthinkable problem. All right?’
But what does Moronoe really get out of helping me? Faye watched the faerie queen with a critical eye. Was she really so committed to protecting Faye? There was no reason why she should. Granted, she’d also indicated that she liked the idea that the baby might drive a wedge between Finn and Glitonea. However, Faye imaged Moronoe had other ways of doing that if she wanted to.
‘Humans are so emotional.’ Moronoe rolled her eyes. ‘Fine, fine. I understand.’
She’d learnt that there were ways of subverting the will of the faeries, though it wasn’t easy, and there were always consequences.
‘Wait. If the baby’s human, then it can’t stay here. It will kill him. Or her.’ The surreal nature of what she was talking about with Moronoe struck Faye. Surely she couldn’t be considering leaving her child in the faerie realm?
‘He will be partly fae, taking that from you. And if I have him from a newborn, he will adjust. That is why the fae like to take human babies. They can live in our realms more easily if they grow within it than if they arrive from another realm. Then, it is too much of a shock. If they are here from the beginning, they are reared on faerie milk, which gives them what they need to survive here.’ Moronoe patted her large, rounded breast. ‘I will suckle him myself.’
Queen of Sea and Stars Page 25
