The Park Family: Mairi: Retribution

by Lisanne Valente

  “Rest, Mairi,” he said and stood from her side. “I will return when I find those two.” He indicated in the direction Ariel and Harviel had been standing.

  “No Angel magic,” Mairi insisted.

  “I promise, Mairi, no Angel magic, but on the understanding you rest,” he insisted.

  “That’s a promise easily kept. My head feels as though it’s about to explode. What on earth was Ephraim doing in my shower room?”

  Before Appoloin had the opportunity to ask what she meant, Mairi let out a soft snore.

  “Damn, damn, and double damn,” he cursed. “Where are you two?” he all but shouted, aware that he must not wake her.

  When no response came from his Angels, he spread his wings and flew heavenward.

  Chapter Twelve

  Mairi woke a few hours later to the sound of a ball bouncing against a fence. Rising cautiously, her hands holding her head, just in case it decided to fall off—she would not discount anything anymore—she walked to the bay window and pulled back the heavy curtains.

  Looking outside into Eaton Square, she saw two young boys playing. The sun was shining, and her head was not going to fall off. In fact, she felt no pain anywhere; even her foot had healed. Baglis was a wonder.

  She glanced at the door to the shower room and reconsidered entering. The memory of Ephraim hanging from the light was still ever present in her thoughts. A shower would wait until Appoloin was beside her.

  Dressing quickly, she grabbed a shawl, put her feet into the slippers she had left by the bed, and walked to the door. Nothing had stopped her yet, so she opened it and walked out.

  Taking her time, she walked steadily through the hallway, passed the range of paintings, and although beautiful, none came close to her favourite artist’s work. Alexander Millar was a genius. His portrayal of the Gadgie was enchanting. She and her cousins had each been gifted one piece of his artwork and, when time was plentiful, she would gaze at the one she owned, which was titled Homeward Bound. For some reason, it just struck a chord with her, and every time she studied it, there would be something else she could sense coming from the painting, something new she would see that she had missed previously.

  Art, of course, is subjective. What one loves another may dislike, but she and her cousins all found enjoyment in everything he painted. Mairi was quite sure that Alexander had been gifted by the Fae themselves, and whenever he put brush to paper his sight took over, and the magic flowed from his heart to the paper.

  She walked happily past the portraits and felt the eyes of each painting were watching her, following her along her pathway. Turning, she stared at the one portrait that reminded her of Appoloin, but there was nothing other than an exquisite piece of art, depicting a scene a from Scottish castle. Yes, she reassured herself, it was merely a painting.

  Although it was late afternoon, there was still daylight, and she wanted to feel the fresh air on her face and the rays of the sun caressing and warming her. Her steps became more rapid, and she walked past the breakfasting room, going directly to the front door. Mairi was relieved that thus far, she had not been spotted or stopped by any Angel, maid, guardian, or any of the numerous people who had constantly been around her for weeks.

  Her first step into the open air, the first touch of the sun on her face, her first breath of fresh air, and Mairi stood with her face stretching up to the sky, willing the sun to wrap its warm arms around her and the soft breeze to lift her up and swirl her gently as it did the cherry blossoms playing on the ground.

  She was pulled suddenly from her blissful dreams, with a thud, when a ball smacked into the side of her head. So much for the playful breeze scooping me up and the sun’s strong, warm arms cuddling me, she thought, and bent to retrieve the ball rolling before her.

  “I believe you may have lost something,” she said to the beautiful child standing in front of her.

  A mass of dark curls shook when the boy looked up. His huge blue eyes would have been perfect for any Disney movie character, she thought. But he was pale, so much so she thought he may be ill. Mairi handed his ball over, afraid if she didn’t she may cause the sickly boy more harm.

  “Zank you, my lady,” he said, bravely. He clicked his heels together and bowed his head in respect, just as his friend shouted, “Freddy, come on, we won’t have enough time before your lessons if you don’t hurry up.”

  However, his friend was curious about Mairi and shyly wandered over, bravado taking over his demeanour as he strode purposefully towards her. She could see the caution in his eyes, but the brave young lad continued onwards.

  “May I ask you your name, my lady? Freddy here”—he indicated the young, sickly lad to his right—“is not allowed to speak with strangers.”

  “Oh.” Mairi fluttered her eyelashes, and one hand pressed against her breast, while the back of the other hand pressed against her forehead, in mock shock. “Kind sirs, I promise thee, I am no stranger, but a lone woman in a land I know not.”

  Freddy began to giggle when his friend shrugged his shoulders at him, his forefinger doing a circular motion against his forehead, indicating perhaps Mairi was a little daft. Freddy, however, chose to ignore him and played along with Mairi, going into a deep bow, his arm across his stomach.

  “My leedy,” he said, the gentle voice carrying an Eastern European accent, “how can vee be of assistance to you, on this fine morning?”

  Mairi moved her hands to either side of her face, feigning horror. “I cannot possibly speak with two handsome men, when I know not their names!”

  The older of the two boys spoke up first. “I am Alfred Tennyson, and this young pup is my friend. He only visits occasionally, and his name is Freddy. I think his surname is Chopin or something like that, but I don’t know.”

  Freddy gave his assent and took Mairi’s hand in his, raising it to his lips. “I am, dear lady, Frederic Chopin. My new friend Alf—”

  Tennyson interrupted him. “Your only friend, Freddy. You’re never allowed out of that house. I think you must live with John Polidori’s Vampyre. You’re always so white, as though you never sleep.”

  Freddy’s eyes angered, and he went into a torrent of… what was that language? Yes, it’s Polish. Then, not content with one language, he went into a tirade of French. Some of the words she’d heard before, and some she definitely recognised as words that should not be coming from the mouth of a nine-year-old.

  “Em, I think maybe you’ve offended your friend’s sensibilities, Alfie.”

  “I would not worry about that, my lady,” said the suave and now debonair Tennyson as he pushed Freddy out of the way and, mimicking the actions his friend had made, he placed her hand in his and raised it to his lips, much to the shock of Freddy, who glared, and now sat in a frustrated lump on the ground.

  “Why, kind sir, I am so lucky to have ventured upon some kind and handsome men. I never would have known to wander here. There must be magic in the air that led me to your own selves.”

  “No majeek,” Freddy said as he jumped up, brushing away the grass and leaves from his velvet pants. “You live in there?” he said, pointing to the house Mairi and Appoloin shared. “With your husband and the big men. We have seen you on occasion in the evening when you venture from your home.”

  “They’re guardians,” said Tennyson. “They take care of her.”

  “I’ve seen big men like that before, and I am certain they were not guardians!”

  “Probably the militia of your country,” Tennyson said with an air of superiority.

  Mairi was impressed, not just at the child’s knowledge—he could be no older than ten—but by the fact she was actually standing in Eaton Square with the future Poet Laureate Alfred Lord Tennyson and Frederic Chopin.

  She was unaware that she had been staring at them, wearing a silly smile on her face. When the two of them exchanged questioning looks, she was only pulled from her wonder when she heard a male voice shouting, “Frederic, ou es tu?”

  “I
t cannot be that time already,” Alfie complained.

  “I am afraid it is true.” Freddy sighed but didn’t move, continuing to search Mairi’s face instead.

  “Frederic!” The voice was louder now. “Wo bist du?”

  “So you speak German as well?” Mairi asked. Freddy nodded with a sympathetic acknowledgement from Alfie.

  “FREDERIC! Gdzie Jestes?”

  “Now you’ve done it.” Alfie laughed. “You know how he hates to speak Polish. He thinks he’s too good for your born language.”

  “If I have to learn Latin and German, he can speak Polish from time to time,” said the determined Freddy. “However, my punishment will be too much if I do not respond and make my way towards my taskmaster.”

  Mairi was horrified. “He won’t punish you, will he?”

  “Do not worry yourself, pretty lady. He will not lay hands on me. No, his punishment will be to practice, practice, practice until the small hours of the morning.”

  “Hence the Vampyre looks.” Alfie laughed as Freddy punched him in the arm.

  Frederic walked towards the townhouse and glanced over his shoulder. “I find our meeting you today very valuable, my lady. I am about to begin a new composition, an opus if you like, and I can see the notes form all around you, jumping madly like March Hares. It is quite phenomenal. It is almost like magic.” Frederic stopped walking, ignoring the shouts coming from the doorway. “It is opportune, is it not, that we have met today and that, at last, the music is coming together. You have done that for me.” With a definite bob of his head, he said, “I shall call it Fantaisie Impromptu—do you think that appropriate, my lady?”

  Mairi was sure she must have swooned, because she was surprised to find Alfred holding her arm in a tight grasp. He had secured her elbow and was scowling at Frederic.

  “I will be writing a sonnet for my lady.” He hesitated. “I know some of the words already.” Glancing up at Mairi, he continued, “I apologise, my lady. I have not put pen to paper, and the words I see will not be the first lines, nor will they be in the first part, of whatever this may become, but, like Freddie, I do believe you inspire.”

  Mairi was flabbergasted. “I don’t really know what to say, kind sirs. I have never had any music written about me.” She looked down at Alfred. “Nor have I ever had a poem written for me.”

  “But you haven’t yet heard it,” Alfred stated.

  “Then do not keep us waiting any longer, or my punishment may last well into tomorrow evening. Quickly allow us to hear these marvellous words.”

  “I shall,” Alfred grumbled. “Give me a moment to bring those words I can see forming in my head…

  “And by the moon the reaper weary,

  “Piling sheaves in upland’s airy,

  “Listening, whispers ‘’Tis the fairy…’

  “And that’s all I can think of just now.”

  “My lady, are you well?” asked Frederic. “You are very pale, a bit like his”— he pointed to Alfred—“moon fairy.” He laughed.

  Mairi stood gaping. “You do not like my words?” asked Alfred, disappointed.

  “Not ‘like’ The Lady of Shalott?” she squeaked. “It’s one of my favourite poems.” She smiled at Frederic. “And Fantaisie Impromptu, oh, dear heavens, it is the most beautiful piece of music.”

  The boys glanced at one another and exchanged looks of confirmation that they had been right when they first met Mairi. She was indeed addled in the head!

  “I have not written the Opus yet,” said Frederic.

  “And I have only thought of those few words… but then again,” he said as he rubbed a finger on his chin in contemplation, “ ‘The Lady of Shalott’ is a grand-sounding title. It is very possible, she may be part of the legend of Camelot. I must go now and establish whether this is, in fact, true. I bid thee farewell, my lady, and I thank you for your guidance. Au revoir, Frederic. I will see you when your master allows you some freedom.” Alfred trotted off, and his giggles could be heard all across the square as he made his way to his home.

  “FREDERIC!” the master yelled.

  “I must go, my lady. I thank you for making magic happen in my world.” He turned quickly and ran to his house.

  Mairi was furious when the master grabbed Frederic’s jacket. However, when Frederic said something to him, he just as quickly released it. He held the door open for Frederic and waited patiently for him to enter the house. With a glance over at Mairi, he scowled before slamming the door shut behind him.

  Mairi chuckled to herself and continued along the tree-lined avenue, the same avenue she knew, one hundred fifty years from now, would be barricaded to the public by huge guards, protecting a Russian billionaire. She might as well enjoy it while she could, since chances were, she wouldn’t get the opportunity again.

  The sky had turned dark, and the sun had gone down; a smattering of clouds hid the stars. She was constantly amazed every time she came out in the evening at the blanket of stars in the sky. They would be hidden in the future by light pollution. In this time, however, it was as though she could see into every other universe. The stars were so many and shone so brightly; together with a moon she swore was larger and more brilliant in this century, they did a better job than the street lamps. What a shame, they would all become less visible, she thought. It’s so beautiful.

  A chill rent the air, and she wrapped her arms tightly across her body as a shiver passed through her. She veered from the path heading homewards to collect a wrap when she remembered the one sliding from her shoulders.

  “Not quite so beautiful as you, m’dear,” a voice drifted over from the shadows in the trees.

  Mairi peered in that direction but couldn’t see anyone and began to walk faster. “I beg your pardon?” she asked.

  “I said,” the voice answered impatiently, “the stars are not nearly as beautiful as you, Mairi.”

  Mairi stumbled slightly, but regained her composure. “It is not decent for a gentleman to speak with a lady on her own.”

  “And it is not decent for a lady to be on her own,” he whispered malevolently. “Are you going somewhere, Mairi?”

  She turned again to ascertain whom the voice belonged to when someone banged into her, causing her to fall to the ground.

  “Oops, sorry,” he said casually. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

  Mairi screwed up her eyes to search the face hidden in the light. “Do I know you?” she asked as she trembled.

  “Oh, Mairi, don’t disappoint and tell me you don’t recognise me. I’ll be heartbroken if you haven’t worked it out yet.”

  Ephraim leaned forward, his eyes completely black, evil taking control, and stretched his hand out for her to take. She backed away from him, her dress catching on a tree root as she hurriedly moved.

  “Now, now, now, we’ll have none of that, my love. It’s time for us to get proper acquainted, don’t you think? After all, I’ve been waiting a very long time to have you.” He sneered, then sniggered. “Oops, my bad, I meant for us to get to know each other better. How does that sound?”

  “I don’t want to know you any better!” Mairi screamed and moved farther away. The root of the tree moved, snaking its way towards her. When she couldn’t shift fast enough, it coiled around her ankle and yanked her still. Mairi yelped as the tree tugged on the ankle she had hurt earlier, gripping her hard, closing off her circulation.

  “Now that’s better. That’s more compliant, and that makes me a happier man.”

  “You’re no man!” she shouted. “You’re a demon.”

  His face appeared before hers in a second, and his tongue lashed out and licked her cheek. He pulled away from her, focussing on her face, then changing his mind, and flashed back in front of her. His tongue thrust forward, and he licked her chin, nose, cheeks, and forehead. Mairi shuddered when his mouth turned up into a grimace, then, tenderly, he kissed each of her eyes.

  With him holding her face tightly in his hands, Mairi struggled and tried
to escape his clutches, but she was held fast. She tugged her head disgustedly, in an attempt to withdraw, when he lowered his face to her lips, but he held it securely. She felt ill as he came nearer, and when he nipped her lower lip until it bled, she felt bile rise within her stomach. Throwing his head back in delight, he added, “That I am, Mairi, and now it’s time for us to go.”

  She shook her head in defiance. “I’m going nowhere with you. Let me be.”

  “But I can’t, Mairi. You see, this is the part the Angels forgot to tell you. This is your destiny. You are meant to be with me, and that’s how it’s going to be.”

  “No, you’re wrong—”

  He held up a hand in impatience and cut her sentence off, yet her mouth continued to move as though in speech though no sounds emanated. “I am not wrong, Mairi, and you will experience the best of all worlds once we are together. That is your destiny.” His head forced forward, their noses touching, and Mairi searched deep into his eyes, shocked when she saw the tiny figure of Ephraim, naked and chained to a tree. He was screaming at her, but as quickly as the image appeared, it was gone, and she was looking into the madness lurking in his eyes, dancing like an out-of-control fire, and knew she was in trouble.

  He held her chin and puckered his lips as though to kiss, but instead, he blew cold air upon her. The smell made her want to gag, a combination of sulphur, rancid meat, blood, and evil. Her eyes widened. “Lucias!”

  “Ah, my sweet wife, let us go now and consummate our marriage. I cannot wait any longer to hold your sweet body in my arms after our connubial bliss.”

  Mairi attempted to scream, but Lucias blew on her again. This time the noxious fumes made her dizzy, and she could no longer stand. Lights flashed before her, and her body began to dissolve into mistdreaming stars.