Heroines and Hellions: a Limited Edition Urban Fantasy Collection

Home > Other > Heroines and Hellions: a Limited Edition Urban Fantasy Collection > Page 182
Heroines and Hellions: a Limited Edition Urban Fantasy Collection Page 182

by Margo Bond Collins


  I listened to her thoughts as the fairy experienced them.

  ‘It’s only at 3 o’clock in the morning that the air of London becomes somehow breathable, most of the traffic having ceased. I’ve no clue how humans can breathe an air that smells so bad, and never complain about it. Daniel never said a thing about the way the air smelled, and he was so sensitive! I wonder… No, I should stop wondering about Daniel. I can’t believe that I trusted him with my secret, that I told him who I really am. It was reckless and dangerous, for the mission and for him. But, I care about him so much…’ the fairy shook her head.

  ‘I need to pull myself together and stop thinking about him. I’ve made a big mistake letting myself become involved with a human, best to not make it worse by continuing to think about him. So much is at stake. I have other priorities now. And, more important problems. Like retrieving the Eye of Xipe. And finding out who stole it and why. I’m so close to uncovering the whole thing, so close, yet so far. And I admit it, I’m scared. I’ve crossed the great ocean to come to this completely unknown land to fetch one of the most powerful talismans in the world. I don’t even know what it is I’m facing yet, only a feeble idea. I’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg and I have a feeling it is a very big iceberg indeed. Maybe they are already after me. I miss my home like crazy. But I must stay strong, in spite of everything. My mission is too important.’

  I could sense that the fairy needed to gather her strength, pollution made her weak and brought her down. It had just rained and the rain had summoned all the scents of spring in the garden. She deeply inhaled the perfume of the jasmine and the roses. Like all fairies, she could learn a plant’s story through its scent. She instantly knew that the jasmine had been purchased from a large greenhouse, where humans had grown it from the seed. Yet, the roses had a past, planted in the early thirties by an old lady who lived in the house which stood where the restaurant now was. It was a cosy Edwardian house that the lady shared with her husband of forty years, until he died, leaving her alone with only her roses to talk to. Then the war came and, with it, the bombs. And the lady, although old and ill, had to flee. Just in time, before the house was destroyed. But, miraculously, the roses survived and witnessed the horrors and the desolation brought by the conflict. They also remembered all the love that had filled that place for so many years. The fairy could still feel it in her heart, while she inhaled the flowers’ scent brought to her by the rain. She felt she was the only one who could, humans being clueless about the old lady’s story, they were clueless about so many things! She wondered how they could be so unaware of so many important things and still be happy. Or maybe they weren’t. To her, they often seemed so sad, and always in a rush to go somewhere else. They didn’t enjoy the smell of flowers, or the scent electricity left in the air after a storm. The fairy took another deep breath and suddenly tensed-up, like a deer smelling a predator.

  But it was too late. A clattering sound behind her. Cold, painful iron on her skin. Then nothing.

  I gasped, looking around. I was suddenly back in my library. What I’d just experienced wasn’t normal, even to my standards. And Kostopolous was neither crazy nor lying, he was dating a real fairy, after all. Someone had just captured her. And capturing a fairy was no easy task, so that someone must be extremely powerful. And dangerous.

  “Miss Wise? Miss Wise, are you all right?” my client asked, filled with concern. He could see I was distraught

  “Daniel, I was wrong about you,” I finally exhaled I will take your case.”

  3

  Mr James Turner

  I had no choice, but to call my friend Susan Turner. At the time, she was a new friend since I had met her less than a year prior, after I’d moved in with my Uncle Terry. Uncle Terry had introduced me to his best friend Ken, and his lovely wife Suzy. I immediately saw that Susan was a witch, with a very powerful magic aura. Obviously, she could see my aura too, which is weird and all messed-up, but still a magic aura. We soon decided to come out to each other (and to Uncle Terry, who had no idea his mate had married a witch) and started collaborating. She, like me, was clueless about my abilities in spite being a knowledgeable and prominent witch at the time, Head of the Bath SPA Council, in the South West of England.

  “Hello Suzy, this is Robyn, how are yo…”

  “ARE YOU INSANE?? OR ARE YOU RISKING YOUR LIFE ON PURPOSE? THE POLTERGEIST OF A LEPRECHAUN!”

  Oops, had no idea she had already been informed of my little business in Mayfair. That could, uh, complicate things a little bit.

  “AND IN THE HOUSE OF A PEER! I SWEAR TO GOD, ONLY YOU CAN GET INTO SUCH TROUBLES!”

  “I…I was referred by…”

  “I DON’T CARE WHO REFERRED YOU!” Gosh, she was furious! “YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT A MESS THIS IS! My boss knows who you are and…”

  “DOES HE? WOW! I’m flattered!” I erupted, genuinely and pleasantly surprised. “I mean, the Head of the Wizard London Council, the most powerful wizard of the UK is aware of my humble existen…”

  “…and knows my husband is Terry’s best friend,” Susan continued, ignoring me. “He knows we have a connection…he called yesterday in the middle of the night, asking me all sorts of questions, after Lord Basilton called him to complain about his antique collection being destroyed …”

  “Wait, he knows about the Wizard Council?”

  “OF COURSE HE DOES, YOU NAÏVE FOOL! He’s a peer of the Chamber of Lords! The highest members of the Government know about us. And considering what was haunting his house, Lord Basilton is quite familiar with the supernatural…”

  “Yes, but…”

  “BUT NOTHING!” she cut me off. “I was heavily questioned, my boss kept asking questions about you that I couldn’t and wouldn’t give him…”

  “Thank you for having my back! I really appreciate it and…”

  “Of course you do! Why wouldn’t you?” She continued, in a sarcastic tone. “My neck is on the line here ! It was so embarrassing, my boss is mad at me, you know? And the fact that he’s my older brother makes it even worse…”

  At the time, Susan’s older brother, Sir Stephen Turner, was the Head of the London Wizard Council, which made him the most powerful wizard in the UK, the London Council being the leader of all other wizard councils scattered throughout England. Being the sister to such a successful and powerful brother put Suzy in a delicate position, where she needed to constantly prove herself while avoiding doing anything that might embarrass her older sibling. Obviously, helping me could, well, cause great embarrassment to her and Stephen, which is why she was always careful whenever she got involved with me. Still, she did keep helping me in secret, despite the risks.

  “I suppose you’ve called to apologise,” she concluded with a deep sigh.

  “I…well, of course!” think Wise, think. “I’m dreadfully sorry I got you into trouble…really…” I stuttered. That was such bad luck. I mean, what were the odds that, just when I needed Susan the most, she’d be super-pissed-off at me because of stupid Lord Basilton? I mean, come on! I needed to play my cards well, and not just so as to avoid upsetting her more.

  As I said, Susan was a prominent witch with responsibilities. Whenever she helped me, she risked her own reputation, and needed to hide things from her colleagues and boss. Sometimes, she even had to bend the rules. Bend them, not break them. I was positive there was no way she could keep silent about a missing fairy and this Xipe talisman which sounded like something important. The second I gave her the info, she’d be forced to report to Stephen, which was exactly what I wanted to avoid. I couldn’t tell her what was really going on, but I didn’t want to lie to her either. That meant it was time for my epic ‘truth dosing’.

  “What’s wrong? Why are you suddenly so silent?”

  “Uh…nothing,” damn hesitation! “I’m just sad that I let you down, I feel so honoured to be your friend, you’re such a generous, smart witch…”

  “What do you want? Tell me.”

  “
Huh? Why do you think…”

  “Flattery doesn’t work with me. I’m not stupid. You haven’t called me to apologise. You need something.”

  “Well…”

  “Spit it out,” she snapped.

  OK, no beating about the bush with this lady. “Choose your words carefully, Wise,” I told myself. “Don’t mess this up.”

  “OK, let’s say that I have a new case.”

  “Yes.”

  “And it’s about a lost artefact, and, a missing person,” I couldn’t really tell her I was looking for a fairy. She’d freak out. As I said, fairies are the most concealed magical population on Earth, and having one walking around London, dating human guys and sending me mysterious messages written with her golden blood was kind of an event.

  “What kind of artefact are you looking for? Powerful?”

  “Very, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “Rare? Ancient? Dangerous?”

  “Very likely.”

  “OK, I DON’T WANT TO HEAR ANY MORE OF THIS. Or I’ll have to report to my boss. This is a job for my younger brother James.”

  “James? He’s the one you said works at the British Museum, right?”

  “Quite right. And he’s your guy. Powerful, smart, experienced. He despises authority, especially when it comes from the Wizard Council. He’s a tracking wizard, specialised in finding magical artefacts. He’s also an expert in the field of ancient manuscripts and antique magical amulets. He’s been working at the British Museum for years, you know, to monitor and protect the magical artefacts kept there. He’s going to help you. In fact, he already has, only you didn’t know. Much of the information I passed you over the past year first came from him.”

  “Your brother knows? What does he know? You didn’t tell him…”

  “I did. I had to, in order to help you. But don’t worry, your secret is safe with us.”

  “I…you should have asked me first,” I exhaled. I had told Susan I could speak the fairy language because, well, her husband was my uncle’s best friend, which for me was a sort of life insurance. But could I trust her brother as much? I was five when I first met Will, and he was very clear about my abilities from the start: never tell anyone about them, especially NOT about the fairy language. He was damn right. As far as I knew, aside from the fairies, I was the only being on Earth able to speak the Fairy Language: A secret, long-forgotten language that had powers itself. There were plenty of wizards and witches who, if they’d know my secret, would be happy to vivisect me, torture me, imprison me in order to find out how I do it, or to force me to translate stuff for them.

  “Calm down, you have nothing to fear from James. If anyone can keep a secret, it’s him. Especially a secret on which someone’s life depends. He’s the most trustworthy wizard you’ll ever meet, believe me.”

  “All right, I suppose I have no choice but to trust him. I imagine he’s very busy, but, this case is really urgent, so how…?”

  “He’s going to help you, don’t worry. I’ll talk to him first, to tell him what’s going on. Besides, he’s very intrigued by your abilities, he will be thrilled to meet you.”

  “Another one eager to see the freak,” I thought to myself. I couldn’t have been more wrong at the time.

  “So, I’ll give him a call right away,” my friend continued. “He should get back to you ASAP, trust me. DON’T DO ANYTHING UNTIL YOU SEE HIM PLEASE! Please, promise!”

  “OK, I promise,” I reassured her. It wasn’t difficult to keep my promise, since anyway I wouldn’t know what to do, nor where to go.

  “All right, you’ll hear from him soon,” and she hung up.

  It turned out that the Turner siblings took the concept of “ASAP” very seriously. Only half an hour later, I got a text from an unknown number. It was James, who politely introduced himself and invited me to join him at the British Museum that very evening, at 8 p.m.

  William and I showed-up punctually outside the British Museum’s back entrance. “It’s well past closing time, child,” the Duke said, looking around, dubious. “Why is Mr Turner still inside? And how are we to enter?”

  “Suzy told me he was granted a special permission to stay in and ‘work overtime’. He’s supposed to look after a number of magical artefacts kept at the museum, some are even on display! So, sometimes he must work long hours.”

  “So, he works for the Wizard Council?”

  “No, not exactly. He’s an unregistered wizard. I don’t really know what it means, except that he’s not under the direct control of the Wizard London Council. Still, Suzy told me that some big shot of the wizard world gave him this job, and so he’s working here as an employee, undercover. Of course, none of his colleagues know who he really is. As to how to enter, in his message he told me all I need to do is to stand in front of this door and say my name out loud, so let’s see if it works,” I cleared my throat, stepped towards the entrance and almost yelled: “Robyn Wise!”

  The door slowly cracked open.

  “Wow, that was neat!” I erupted, as we carefully stepped inside. As expected, there was no one around. Lights turned themselves on as we walked down the main corridor.

  “Mr Turner’s office is on the third floor, this way.” I said, nodding at the stairs. I am highly claustrophobic, and tend to avoid small lifts like the one at the museum.

  When we reached the floor, it was very easy to find James’ office, since his door was the only one painted dark green and it was left ajar for us. I knocked anyway.

  “Come in!” said a vibrant male voice.

  The voice of a sincere man, I remember thinking, right before I entered.

  The place was a rather small room smelling of dust and books mixed with the scent of the fresh lilies which filled an elegant crystal vase on the window sill.

  The yellow walls were covered with basic shelves crowded with books old and new, as well as a few ancient scrolls. I spotted an old green armchair and a couple of chairs which had seen better days. Still, the wooden floor shined with polish and so did the massive oak desk at the bottom of the room. The whole place exhaled a sort of peculiar scruffy beauty, just like the wizard sitting behind the desk, who rose from his seat the moment I entered. James Turner was a tall, lean man, with broad shoulders and good muscles hidden under the old tweed jacket he was wearing. Looked to be a man in his late thirties/early forties, but was of course much older, being a wizard. He was elegantly scruffy just like his office, with wavy dark brown hair not properly combed, messy stubble across his jaw, and sincere blue eyes. The gem on his ring of power was a rather large, boldly red ruby. Wizards and witches cannot perform any magic without their ring of power. Each ring is very personal and the gem on it I some way reflects the personality and the type of power of its bearer.

  “Miss Robyn Wise, I suppose!” he said, coming to shake my hand. “And this must be His Grace, Sir William Burrow… How do you do?” he hinted a bow at William, who did the same.

  “How do you do?” Will and I replied, almost at the same time.

  “Please, take a seat Miss Wise,” James pointed at the armchair, waiting for me to sink into it before sitting back at his desk.

  “So glad to finally meet the Girl With The Weird Aura! My sister has told me great things about you!”

  “And here we are,” I thought, as my back automatically stiffened-up.

  “I hope she also told you that I’m a person with thoughts and feelings, and not a circus freak,” I snapped, frowning at him. “If you’ve offered to help me just so that you could take a peek at the supernatural weirdo everyone is curious about, I am sorry, but I won’t…”

  “No, Miss Wise, I am sorry,” he rushed, seeing that I was about to stand and leave. “I’m sorry that I gave you the wrong impression. I must confess that I was, and still am, amazed by your abilities and definitely curious about them. When I said that my sister told me great things about you, I was speaking of your outstanding bravery and resilience. Susan told me that you were born with these inexp
licable powers of yours and were forced to face a number of supernatural threats when you were still very young.”

  “A child. I was still a child. I was six when the first…thing came for me.”

  “This is…outstanding. Such a small child, still, you managed to survive through it, attended university and became a brave, stable adult.”

  “Well, I don’t really know if ‘stable’ is the word, Mr Turner,” I replied, thinking about my many issues: my constant nightmares, my being pretty jumpy all the time. The inability to have deep relationships with other human beings. “As for being brave, well, it’s not that I have a choice, do I? It’s not that one morning I can get out of bed and decide that I’m fed-up and walk away. This isn’t a job you can resign from. This isn’t a job at all: it’s my life.”

  James gave me a long, mysterious look. A look of pity and admiration at the same time.

  “I understand,” he finally said, without taking his eyes off me. “Please, tell me how I can help you.”

  “Well, I’m looking for a missing fairy and a powerful talisman,” I said, extracting Megan’s message from my jacket’s pocket. “I hope you can give me a hand.”

  I opened the piece of paper and started reading it out loud, translating it for him.

  When I finished the words and raised my eyes from the paper, I saw James Turner staring back at me from his desk, gobsmacked.

  “So, what do you think? Can you help us?”

  He didn’t answer, just kept staring at us.

  “Mr Turner?”

  “Oh, sorry Miss Wise,” he finally replied, out of his trance. “I was just trying to process all this. I mean, a fairy walking around London, and carrying on a relationship with a human?”

  “I know, it doesn’t make sense, I agree with you,” I replied. “But I don’t think that is really the priority for now. What do you know about this Xipe talisman the fairy was searching for?” I continued, hopeful.

 

‹ Prev