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Faerie

Page 4

by Jenna Grey


  ...because Maggie was a witch.

  It had taken Lily a while to fully understand who, and what, her mother was. In the very early years, she had just been a woman who had some strange eccentricities, but as Lily had been brought up with them, they seemed quite normal to her. She just knew the Maggie did things a little differently to everyone else. To begin with, her clothing was fairly unique – she’d literally wear any scrap of clothing, whether it seemed to match or not, oddments she’d bought at jumble sales or in charity shops, none of which really went together. They were never chosen carelessly – Maggie actually planned her disastrous ensembles, but Lily never found it strange. Maggie’s hair was always scarlet, or blue or green; Lily couldn’t ever remember seeing it as anything other than rainbow bright, and not once did a bottle of hair dye touch her mother’s head. Fey weren’t the only creatures that could perform glamour. Lily’s own clothes had always been a case of more luck than judgement. Those sorts of things never bothered Maggie – or Lily at the time. The locals all knew that Maggie was odd, and never tried to hide it – and of course they considered Lily odd as well – guilty by association.

  Maggie was witch by blood and birthright – the daughter of a witch, who was the daughter of a witch, who was the daughter of a witch... back to time immemorial. She was the offspring of the Tuatha Dé Danann, the old race, but so interbred now that little of the original blood remained in her. There were no pure Tuatha Dé Danann left – they had long since died out. Maggie had taught her everything she knew about magic and about Otherworld – about the creatures, gods and demigods that existed in those in between places, about the Hidden People and about her kind. She had always told her that one day Lily would go back home, but she also taught her how to protect herself while she was in exile.

  Maggie’s death had been the greatest blow Lily could ever have experienced, a tragedy that totally shook her world to its foundation and left her drowning in an ocean of misery. Maggie had been her shelter from the world of men, someone who shielded her from the harsh realities of this existence. The only person that had known what she was. Her death had traumatised Lily in so many ways; she hadn’t only lost her mother, she had lost her guide and mentor, her protector and she had been left alone and vulnerable with no possible hope of being able to cope with it. And yet she had coped. She had realised immediately the danger and done everything she had to do to protect herself. The innate craftiness of the fey had stood her in good stead, but it had been so very hard.

  After Maggie’s death, Lily had been moved from one foster home to another, never really settling or feeling that she belonged.

  Lily was so lost in thought that she almost forgot to stop off and pick up the iron chain. It was still there, protected by her charm. It was heavy and she couldn’t lift it, so she dragged it the rest of the way home, puzzling over how she could sneak it past Claire and into her bedroom. She could make herself invisible – well, not actually invisible, of course, that would be ridiculous, but she could make it so that people couldn’t see her, even if they were looking right at her – rather like Dr Who and his Tardis; what did he call it? A perception filter? Whatever, it worked. She’d used it many times to get herself out of trouble. Yes, she could sneak past Claire easily.

  When she arrived back home, Claire was in the living room totally ensconced in some soap opera or other, her feet up on the sofa, completely lost to this world – she wouldn’t have noticed if a herd of elephants trampled through the house. Lily sometimes thought that Claire lived more of her life in TV land than she did in the real world. She supposed that fey or human, all creatures needed a world they could run away to, to escape unpleasant realities.

  There was a dreadful smell coming from the direction of the kitchen and Lily realised, with sinking heart, that Claire had cooked dinner – thankfully a rare occurrence. It happened from time to time when Claire had watched a cooking programme on TV and wanted to try her hand at something exotic ‒ and usually only because she fancied the chef.

  The ironing board was set up next to the sofa, a basket of laundry dumped on the sideboard, with the iron nestled on top; there was another huge pile on the armchair. Lily sighed and realised that she was going to ironing all bloody evening, while Claire nibbled her way through several bars of chocolate, enjoying the vicarious goings on in East Enders, Emmerdale, Inspector Morse and Midsomer Murders. And she suddenly realised that for all of her moaning, she would miss it.

  Liam and Sarah were playing quietly together in the corner, crayoning their colouring books, knowing full well that it wasn’t a good idea to disturb Claire when she was trying to watch one of her programmes – which was most of the time. Strangely enough it was Liam that was the most mature of the two, and he tended to take care of Sarah, rather than the other way around. Sarah was such a sweet child – a good child, but not that bright. Liam was already able to read his ABC book right through and Lily encouraged him; she’d tried to teach Sarah to read, but she already realised that it was a lost cause; the poor little mite just couldn’t grasp even basic letters. Lily would read to them and tell them stories about the fey and Otherworld and Claire would frown disapprovingly, telling her not to fill their heads with nonsense. Lily had often thought that if she could get back to Elphame she would kidnap the children and take them with her; they would be much happier there than here with Claire.

  Kieran was nowhere to be seen, probably wanking in his bedroom as usual – his latest hobby, so it seemed, judging by some of the noises she’d heard coming from his room at all hours of the day and night. In a funny sort of way, she supposed she’d miss him as well.

  From behind her perception filter, she could watch all of this as if she were somehow not a part of it, an observer, and she realised that was what she had always been really, because she had never really been a part of this family. She sighed, and grabbing the corner of the tarpaulin she simply walked through the hall and up the stairs, desperately trying not to clank too much as she bumped her precious load up the steps. She deposited the chain under her bed and arrived back downstairs, just in time for the programme Claire had been watching to finish. Claire leapt up and grabbed a pillow case from the pile on the chair, pretending that she’d been slaving away all afternoon.

  “I do wish you wouldn’t creep up on people like that – it’s not natural.” Lily tried to rein in the smile, without much success, Nothing could upset her today. Claire gave her a cursory glance, head to foot and said, “You look pleased with yourself.”

  “Well, term’s nearly over, and I think I’ve got good exam results – I’m starting a new life; I should be feeling pleased with myself,” Lily said. Claire gave Lily a look that would have soured milk

  “I’ve got a new girl coming any time, so it’s going to be a real madhouse. I really wanted you out by the time she gets here. I don’t want you hanging around while I’m trying to get her settled in.”

  Lily just huffed a little laugh. Nice to know you’ll miss me.

  “I’ll make sure. I don’t have much to pack, anyway, a boy from school is going to help me move my stuff. We can move it all in a couple of trips.”

  “Have you been to see the new place yet?”

  “No, I’ll probably go tomorrow. I’m really nervous about starting out on my own. It’s going to seem weird, and I’m going to miss...” she was going to say ‘the kids’, but she change her mind at the last second and said, “miss you all.”

  “Well, you need to spread your wings and stand on your own two feet,” Claire said, mixing clichés the way a barman mixes cocktails. “It’s a big world out there. You should think about doing yourself up a bit, though. You’re not going to get anywhere in life looking like little orphan Annie. Buy yourself some new clothes, get a make-over. You could look all right with a bit of effort. I mean, you’re never going to be Angelina Jolie, but anything’s got to be an improvement.” Lily did smile then.

  “Thanks for the encouragement – and I’ll certainly thi
nk about a make-over.”

  Claire gave her a hard-won smile, and seemed content that she’d passed on divine pearls of wisdom to Lily that would certainly change her life for the better.

  “Oh that reminds me, some woman came round earlier looking for you.”

  “Social Services?” Lily asked. She had been expecting a visit from her social worker for the last few days, just making sure that she was all ready to move and had everything under control.

  “I doubt it, she didn’t look like a social worker to me, more like an X Factor wannabe.”

  Lily frowned her puzzlement.

  “What did she want?”

  “She wouldn’t say, just asked if you were here, I said no, and she said she’d come back another time. She gave me this to give you.” Claire reached into the back pocket of her jeans and pulled out a slip of folded paper. Lily took it and looked down at it, her frown deepening. The paper was just a scrap torn from a notebook, and the contents drawn by hand in black felt tip pen, but neatly done, and easily recognisable as what they were. There were three chess pieces along the top, the white king and queen on one side and the black king, toppled on the other. Underneath were the words:

  Take heart. The game is nearly over.

  Lily just stared down at it for some moments, trying to make sense of it.

  “What was she like, can you describe her?” she finally asked.

  Claire shrugged and lit up another cigarette. The pillow case went back down on the pile.

  “She was young, a proper tart, blonde, loads of make-up, dressed like a tart as well, all tits and bum. There wasn’t enough dress to make a tea towel.”

  Claire never had been that observant and Lily thought that she probably wouldn’t get much more out of her than that, so she left it there. It sounded as if it might have been one of the three Bs, but why would one of them come here and give her this? It didn’t make any sense. The message didn’t really make much sense either, but the fact that it had arrived today of all days had to be significant. She and Connor were Seelie Fey, undoubtedly members of the high court. Could they be the king and queen? Not in actuality of course – Lily had no delusions that she was anything special, certainly not royalty, but weren’t they the obvious candidates to be represent the white king and queen? And the black king? One of the Shadow People – the one that attacked her every night? It made as much sense as anything else, and the message did hearten her. She just wished she knew who this mysterious stranger was.

  Lily walked through to the kitchen to find Kieran was already sitting at the table, waiting for his dinner. He totally ignored her as she walked in, staring intently at his iPad as he demolished half a civilisation with gleeful malice.

  “Hi,” Lily said.

  No answer, just another legion of barbarians biting the dust. He was such a pain; Lily would have been quite happy if he’d been drowned at birth – on the odd occasion she’d even toyed with the idea of drowning him herself. Of course, she would never do it, but just imagining it made her feel better. She’d tried to make allowances for him, telling herself that he’d had a very troubled childhood. He had, there was no denying that; he had been sexually abused by his father, beaten by his drug addict mother, and really hadn’t had much chance of becoming a well balanced individual. Sometimes Lily did feel sorry for him, but he seemed to be intent on making everyone hate him, as if he had to keep acting the role that fate had allotted him, even when that particular play was over. He'd only been living with them for about a year, and he seemed intent on causing as much disruption as he could. Lily was surprised that Claire hadn’t sent him back with a return form saying ‘damaged goods’ tied around his neck.

  Lily went to get the cutlery from the drawer, wincing as she caught sight of the burnt offering of a meat loaf that had been laid out on the counter like a tribute to some ancient god.

  “Did you see the woman that came to see me this morning?” Lily asked.

  “Might have done,” he said, an evil little smile touching his lips. That was more than enough confirmation that he had.

  Lily grabbed a hold of the iPad, and tucked it under her arm. There was an indignant ‘Oy’ from Kieran, who made a grab for it, but Lily hung on tenaciously and said:

  “If you did see her and answer some questions I’ll pay for a couple of downloads from iTunes for you.” The bribe was accepted with a nod and Lily continued. “What time was this?”

  “About half nine.”

  “Describe her.

  The grin broadened.

  “She was hot.”

  Lily rolled her eyes and gave an exasperated sigh.

  “I know this is asking a lot of a teenage male, but can you give me a bit more detail?”

  “Three downloads?” Lily growled her agreement, and suspected this was going to end up costing her most of this week’s pocket money. “Okay, hair down to her waist and green eyes – like yours, only nice, not skanky like yours, and she was blonde, not dark. She was gorgeous ‒ legs up to her armpits, tits like melons. Totally hot babe.”

  Lily tutted.

  “You noticed the colour of her eyes, when she had tits like melons? I don’t think so. You’re making this up.”

  He looked quite affronted that she was doubting his word.

  “No, fuck off,” he said indignantly. “I noticed her eyes because she kept looking at me, like this, like she wanted to get my kit off and jump me.” He pulled a face, sucking in his lips and his eyes half closed, trying to look sexy.

  Lily would have made some disparaging remark, but didn’t want to rile him, She couldn’t imagine any sane girl fancying a scrawny Neo Nazi like him. He was alarmingly thin – a pasty little scruff with little hope of ever becoming a fine figure of a man. He had shaved his head down to a fine suede, and the swastika tattoo was clearly visible through it; his clothes were military left overs, cargoes, camouflage tee-shirt, and khaki jacket – all three sizes too big for him. Lily wondered if he actually knew what that swastika represented, either in its original form as a good luck symbol or its acquired, far more sinister meaning. She let all of that wash over her and said:

  “So she seemed nice?”

  “Yeah, why, what’s going on?” He was curious now. She handed back his iPad, but it lay black-screened on his lap.

  “No, nothing. I just wanted to see if I could work out who she was, that’s all. I think it might be someone from my class.”

  “No way, she was older than that – twenty five maybe. I’ve never seen her before, and trust me, I would have remembered her.”

  Lily pulled the scrap of paper out of her pocket and looked at it again. Was it possible that this woman was another fey? Green eyes were not that common, and from the way Kieran had described her, surely she could be fey? If she was, why hadn’t she contacted Lily sooner? Lily called on her power and stared down at the note. If it had been touched by one of her kind she would be able to sense it. She opened herself up to it and almost instantly felt the arcane power tingling on its surface. She felt a little thrill of excitement run through her. Whoever had touched this last had been powerfully magical. She slipped the note back in her pocket, and allowed herself a little smile.

  Chapter Four.

  Dinner was a delight; meat loaf, lumpy mashed potato with khaki coloured tinned peas and transparent gravy – a banquet fit for royalty. Liam’s meal had been mushed up to form an unrecognisable heap in the middle of his plate, like a scene from Close Encounters and he’d barely touched it. Lily could hardly blame him. Sarah had tried to pile hers in a little heap and had hid it under the spoon to make it look as if she’d eaten more of it. Lily would try and sneak some cereal bars to them later; she’d bought an emergency supply with her pocket money, for such emergencies. Kieran had eaten his entire meal, but then, he’d eat anything – Lily was certain he had worms.

  She finished the washing up and gave the little ones their baths, dumping them both in together, and still a little troubled that they didn’t seem qui
te themselves.

  “Are you worried about anything, sweetheart?” she asked Sarah, as she settled them down for the night. Sarah stared at her, eyes just a little too wide and bright.

  “If you go away, who’s going to look after us?”

  Lily stroked her hair back from her face and smiled down at her.

  “Well, you’ll be getting a new sister. I’m sure she’s going to be very nice.”

  “Sarah didn’t seem very reassured. Lily sang to them both, as she did every night, until they fell asleep. Her voice, of course, was as much fey as the rest of her, and even Claire was forced to admit that she sang beautifully. Her lullabies could down anyone in a matter of seconds – a magical version of Temazepam. She sat on the edge of the bed, watching the two children sleeping peacefully for a few minutes just to make sure they were quite settled and then went to her room to get a few hours of ‘me time.’

  She was still puzzling over the cryptic message she’d got from her mysterious visitor. Who would leave her a message like that? The more she thought about it, the more puzzled she became. She decided to put it out of her mind for now and think of other things – namely Connor and how she could get to see him again. She had already realised that if she went to see Connor tomorrow, whether by fair means or foul, then she could stop by and see her new flat at the same time. It must be somewhere close to Hawthorn Lodge. The prospect of being nearer to Connor was more than enough incentive to banish all fears of moving. She’d had the letter stuffed in her bag for days at the bottom of her bag. She scanned down through the letter, past all of the waffle to the address.

  1 Hawthorn Flats.

  She did a double take and looked at the map they had enclosed on how to find it. Sure enough Hawthorn Flats was literally next door to Hawthorn Lodge, the entrance just a few feet away. It couldn’t be... although wasn’t today a day of revelation and wonder? She’d found the only other one of her kind she’d ever met in her life and wasn’t it right that she should end up living right next door to him? She was suddenly presented with so many wonderful possibilities she could hardly contain herself. She had heard that the council had built a small block of single bedroomed flats over on that side of the village, bedsits really, for single men and women that didn’t warrant a house or even a larger flat, mainly older people who were still independent, or people like her who just had nowhere else to go, most youngsters coming out of foster care ended up in hostels or even living rough on the streets. She supposed she was lucky to get one, but her teachers had written on her behalf, extolling her virtues and she supposed they had taken pity on her.

 

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