The Seventh Star

by Mark Hayden

  (When Mages encounter Fae nobles, one of the side effects is a tendency to speak like an extra from A Midsummer Night’s Dream. No one is immune. The notable thing was that Hannah showed no surprise at the Princess being around, only that she was here tonight.)

  The Princess sat and it was my job to go round the table with introductions. She clearly knew who everyone was already, but that’s the Fae for you: when in the world of magick, they’re sticklers for protocol. Absolute sticklers, which is why I’d asked her to accept our hospitality. Once accepted, she had to come and go in peace. That went for us, too.

  This was the first time I’d met a Fae long enough to talk. I’ll refer to her as Tara for convenience, because tonight there is only one Princess, and I’m engaged to her.

  All Fae project an Aura, and no human is immune. You can ignore it or overcome it, but you can’t stop yourself feeling it. When Mina met the Duke of Ashford, he projected a combination of violent menace and powerful, rugged masculinity. Those weren’t her words, but I could tell from the glint in her eye that he’d made an impression.

  Tara Doyle was attractive. Stunning, even, but that’s not what she projected in person. In person, she projected glamour (small “g”) and fun. And there was me thinking that Rachael’s Entanglement was going to be the biggest talking point of the weekend.

  ‘This calls for a drink,’ I said. ‘Vicky, could you give me a hand?’

  ‘Erm, aye.’

  The Fae often have two identities: a rank and name in the world of magick and a position in mundane society. I leaned in to Vicky. ‘Princess Birkdale is the most senior noble in the court of the Queen of Alderley, yes, and based in Birkdale, Lancashire?’

  ‘Aye. That’s her.’

  ‘Who’s Tara Doyle, then?’

  She stopped and stared at me. ‘Eh?’

  I waved my hand. ‘Never heard of her.’

  ‘You’re jokin’, aren’t ya?’

  I stared at her.

  She shrugged her shoulders as if consigning me to an early middle age and shook her head. ‘Six million Instagram followers? Winner of Strictly? Most Vogue covers of anyone under thirty?’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘Married to Robert Doyle? Even you must have heard of him.’

  It clicked. ‘Aah. You mean “Conan” Doyle.’

  ‘That’s the one.’

  We found Ross and Emily outside the tent, both staring into their phones. Emily looked up, starry eyed. ‘We both got selfies with her,’ she said. ‘I’ve already got seventy Shares and over two hundred Likes.’

  Ross was (slightly) less star-struck. ‘She said we could have selfies if we let her car stay on the drive.’

  ‘And get a sandwich for her driver,’ added Emily.

  We were in the middle of the countryside. Quiet. Hidden down a lane and behind trees. None of that would stop people getting in their cars and driving here, if the Princess truly had that level of mundane celebrity.

  ‘Great,’ I said. ‘Emily, you organise refreshments. Ross? Can you go and watch the drive? Call me if anyone turns up.’

  ‘She said not to bother,’ he replied. ‘Something about Mr Ward looking after things.’

  So, Tara had created Wards to give us some privacy. Thoughtful of her. ‘Better safe than sorry,’ I said. ‘Extra thirty quid to both of you for another hour. And food.’

  ‘Yeah. Great.’

  As you know, I’m not a lover of football. I don’t dislike it, but it doesn’t do much for me. However, when you pull out the sports section of the newspaper (yes, I read newspapers), there’s often a picture of Mr Robert Doyle on the front, celebrating some victory. He left Ireland as a youngster and joined the academy at Merseyside United. He’s huge. A man mountain of a midfielder, and with typical Liverpool humour, his new teammates nicknamed him “Conan”, an ironic double tribute to the creator of Sherlock Holmes and Conan the Barbarian. I’m surprised that Tara had chosen a footballer over a member of the royal family. Perhaps another Fae beat her to it.

  Once I’d convinced Mike on the bar to put his phone down, I collected more champagne and glasses. ‘What’s she doing here?’ I said to Vicky.

  ‘How the heck should I know?’

  ‘She obviously knew about the Bollywood party, hence the outfit. From the looks on their faces, none of the Mages knew she was coming.’

  ‘No doubt we’ll find out.’

  No doubt. I was now very uneasy, on all sorts of levels.

  Back in the marquee, almost everyone was looking at her, some openly and some sideways. Whenever she spoke, she turned her head, just enough to stop the cameras recording her lips. I felt the heat of Lux around our table, and that meant she was also running a screen of some sort.

  I passed her a glass, and she proposed a toast, ‘To Anika Desai.’ No one could argue with that, and it reinforced the message that she hadn’t come to cause trouble.

  She turned to me, suddenly businesslike. ‘Mina says you’re having a charity auction next. How much do you expect to raise?’

  We’d thought five hundred would be good. The lots weren’t up to much, and it was more of a filler than anything. ‘Two thousand,’ I said.

  ‘I’ll give you ten thousand for all the lots. More dancing time that way.’

  ‘That’s very generous. Thank you. And thank you for Warding the property.’

  She waved her hand. ‘Her Highness the Queen of Alderley told me about the well. I didn’t believe it was still so powerful, so a little Displacement was no problem. Any Ghoulies who turn up will find themselves standing outside a field.’

  ‘Ghoulies?’

  ‘It’s footballer’s wives’ slang for people who have nothing better to do than drive miles to look at you. Unlike your guests, who forked out good money for a good cause.’ She turned to Mina and gestured at her plate. ‘That was gorgeous. Thank you. Please accept this. It’s made of Fae silver, which is sterling grade but doesn’t tarnish.’

  She pulled a bracelet off her wrist, with difficulty. It was at least three inches wide, more of a sleeve than a bracelet, made of fretwork silver and studded with diamonds. She offered it to Mina, who looked wildly round the table. It was Selena who responded, with a tiny gesture of her hands: take it. Mina bowed and slipped it over her own, much thinner wrist. It had clearly been made specially.

  Tara looked around the table. ‘Business later, eh? Pleasure first.’ She glanced at the room. ‘Not much space, is there?’

  ‘The auction was a cover while we moved the tables outside,’ I said.

  ‘Oh, right. Well, get up there and tell them I’ll do photos with a fifty pound voluntary donation instead.’ She grinned, and I got just a hint that her teeth were longer and sharper than showed up in the photographs. ‘I’ll do Mages and family for free. Can’t say fairer than that, eh?’

  I lasted until the third number before limping off the dance floor. Everyone in the marquee knows how badly injured my leg is, and of those who’d started, none of them wanted to quit before the Wounded Host. When I turned round and sat down, nearly half the men had joined me. Bollywood dancing is not a couples’ pastime. I use the word Bollywood loosely, of course.

  Rahul and Priya introduced us to a few different traditions in loosening up exercises, and when they’d sorted the wheat from the chaff, they started working on a big number. Mina had given me a strict instruction: ‘No talking to Mages until after the party. Focus on the real guests.’

  The two hundred pounds that Selena had dropped into the bucket for a picture of her and Francesca with Tara Doyle looked real enough to me, but who am I to argue?

  I went for a comfort break, and then started to work the edge of the marquee, which was now lined with chairs. As the topics of conversation were usually my parents, my engagement, the weather or the cricket team, I’ll spare you the details.

  I kept one eye on the dancefloor, of course, and had to smile as guests manoeuvred to get closer to or further away from Tara Doyle. Almost everyone was in the first category, leav
ing only the Boss and Lloyd Flint to avoid her. Hannah’s reluctance I could have bet on, but seeing Lloyd act out the historical animosity between Gnomes and the Fae was quite amusing, especially as it was mutual: Tara went to as much trouble to avoid him as he did her.

  It was Anna I felt sorry for at first, until she shoved her finger in Lloyd’s face and told him that she didn’t give a flying fuck what he thought. At least, that’s what I think she said. Shortly after, she elbowed the secretary of the WI to one side and had her moment in the spotlight. When that was done, she spun off and plonked herself next to me.

  ‘They should put them dances on the National Health,’ she said, blowing heavily. ‘They’re magic for your pelvic floor.’

  ‘I’ll take your word for it. How’s it going?’

  ‘Good. Looks like this one’s a go-er.’

  Anna has three daughters already, and she is Lloyd’s first wife. Gnomes are cursed when it comes to children. Literally cursed: all their female children are human, and it’s only when they get to the eighth that a Gnome is born. Somehow, this curse spreads across different partners, and Anna could have stopped having children knowing that Lloyd would finish the job with someone else. It takes a special woman to marry a Gnome, though I am told it’s worth it in other ways.

  ‘I had two who passed,’ she added. For some reason, miscarriages count as children. ‘So that makes this one number six.’

  No, that’s one area of magick that I have no clue about. I blame the gods. Lloyd joined us and invited me to shake his left hand. It was bloody strong, and I congratulated him on his work.

  He looked at the dance floor. ‘You’re gonna be busy, Conrad. We’ll have another drink then head off. I’ll try and catch up soon. Thanks for a lovely evening. I mean that.’

  ‘And so do I,’ said Anna. ‘We won’t interrupt Mina, so thank her, too.’ She gave me a kiss and they left the marquee.

  Shortly after, Hannah found out what the big screen was really for. Rahul switched on the top-mounted camera and got the crowd to turn round. That way, they could see themselves projected live on the screen. Several more left the dancing at that point.

  At eleven o’clock, Rahul and Priya dragged the survivors, including me, back to the floor for one last blowout. I took my place next to Mina did my best. After that, I shut the bar and asked Sofía and Xavi to bring the rest of the coats out. Ten minutes later, Mina made announcement.

  ‘Let’s all go to the kitchen after we’ve got changed. I don’t know about you, but I am very hungry. All of this can wait until tomorrow.’

  ‘Not the kitchen,’ said Tara. ‘Or anywhere in the house.’ She turned to Eseld. ‘The way you’ve worked them Wards, you’d almost think you knew I was coming.’

  Eseld kept her voice neutral. ‘I knew a Fae noble would come along at some point. You’ll note that I didn’t try to hide them. No surprises on either side.’

  Hannah looked around, and the only guests left were all Mages or Entangled. She shook her head, shed her Glamour and peeled off the cheap wig that she’d used as the foundation of the magick. Underneath was her favourite headscarf. ‘It’s good to get some air,’ she said. ‘I know why Princess Birkdale is here,’ she said. ‘I was going to have this conversation tomorrow, but now’s as good a time. Could I trouble Doctor Bannister to join us, as well as Conrad and Mina. And you’d better come, too, Vicky.’

  ‘Then we’ll be going,’ said Eseld. She made a big point of thanking Mina for the party and gave the barest of nods to Tara. Rachael had the sense to follow suit.

  ‘Are you going to the swing?’ said Myfanwy. I nodded. ‘Then I’ll bring tea out.’

  ‘And I’ll help,’ said Mina. ‘See you shortly.’

  Tara looked at Eseld’s back as she turned the corner of the drive. ‘And thanks to Ms Mowbray’s Wards, I’m gonna have to find a bush to pee behind. Unless…?’

  ‘There’s one by the stables,’ I added. ‘Erin will show you the way.’

  The group broke up and we headed for the swing seat and picnic table next to the well. I stacked some logs into the fire pit and Vicky lit them for me. I really must practise my Pyromancy; it comes in very handy sometimes.

  Hannah took the comfiest seat and groaned when she sat back. There was a look of pleasure on her face mixed with physical exhaustion. ‘You did a good thing tonight, Conrad. You and Mina and all the others. Tomorrow, I will ache, but tonight I will give thanks.’

  ‘I couldn’t agree more,’ said Selena.

  Vicky looked at me and raised her eyebrows. I nodded in return. I didn’t need telepathy to know that we were thinking exactly the same thing: This is all lovely, but we’re not having a midnight meeting to critique each others’ dancing.

  As soon as Myfanwy had retreated, Hannah sat up and addressed Tara. ‘Princess, I’m surprised that you decided to raise this issue in person. Your Queen was quite happy for me to brief the Dragonslayer.’

  Me? I should have known that this would end with me getting a job. If so, then why was Vicky here and not Saffron?

  Tara grinned, and again I got a flash of those extra, sharper teeth. In the firelight, they looked even more menacing. She was the only one of us who hadn’t put an outdoor coat over our party clothes. The diamonds in her necklace and bracelets glinted and sparkled way more than they should. More magick.

  ‘I was passing,’ she said, ‘so I thought I’d drop in.’

  It was a challenge. Hannah said nothing, but Mina picked it up. We hadn’t had a chance to talk properly tonight, and I couldn’t work out whether Mina was grateful for the extra cash for Anika’s charity and the publicity or whether she was annoyed at having her thunder stolen.

  ‘You live in Liverpool, yet you were passing a village in Gloucestershire and happened to have something to wear?’

  ‘Birkdale is not Liverpool,’ said Tara. She paused long enough for us to get the message. ‘Robert is in Southampton for tomorrow’s game, and I always go to watch him play. When I found out about the party, it was too good a chance to miss.’

  Mina nodded and held up her arm. The sheath bracelet was a beautiful thing, the fretwork so delicate you wondered how it didn’t get crushed. ‘I will treasure this forever, and the girls in India you have helped will offer prayers of thanks. Ganesh knows that the prayers are for you. Thank you.’

  It was a clear enough statement. When dealing with the Fae, clarity is a commodity in short supply.

  Tara inclined her head in acknowledgement, every inch the Fae aristocrat. ‘Thank you, Rani,’ she said. ‘I can call you that, can’t I?’ She added a twinkle to her eyes, once again just one of the girls.

  ‘Cut the crap and get on with it,’ said Hannah.

  Both Mina and Tara pretended to ignore her, and Mina said, ‘You have a problem, Tara?’

  Tara put down her mug of tea. ‘I do. One of my people, a noble, was assassinated last weekend.’

  ‘Ooh,’ said Vicky. She and I looked at each other. This was big news on its own. For it to be raised here was unprecedented.

  Tara continued, ‘I only have – had – two Counts who owe fealty. One of them was the Count of Canal Street.’

  ‘As in the gay village in Manchester?’ said Mina.

  ‘Precisely,’ said Tara. ‘Entertainment and property. He was big in both. He left one venue at midnight to go to another and never arrived.’ She looked around the group. ‘When one of the People is bound, we know when they die. He is gone, and his passing was painful. Naturally, we have tried to find out who did it. To no avail.’

  The last three words were delivered in the same Scouse accent as the rest of her statement. It didn’t sound wrong, it just set up a big disconnect in my head between the language and her voice. That was my problem, not hers. I’m guessing that her actual problem was going to become my problem very soon. Oh, and The People is the Fae’s name for themselves. It’s a direct translation from their own language.

  Hannah broke the silence. ‘Princess Birkdale went to her
Queen. This wasn’t a mundane mugging. The killers must have used magick, and no one has claimed responsibility. The Queen of Alderley has her suspicions, of course, and this would once have been settled in an orgy of retaliation. The Queen does not want that, and she came to me.’

  Everyone looked at me. The buck stops here. Well, my job title is Watch Captain at Large. I looked at Tara. ‘You’re not entirely happy, are you?’

  ‘I wasn’t. That’s the real reason I came here – to see you for myself. I will have my revenge.’

  A shiver passed down my spine, like an advance payment from winter. The fire flickered, and both the Fae Princess and the Constable seemed to glow. Ever so slightly.

  ‘The King’s Watch does not offer revenge,’ said Hannah. ‘Only justice. Take it or leave it.’

  Tara lowered her head. ‘As my Queen wishes.’

  ‘Good. Conrad will be in touch next week, if you’re not following Merseyside United to Spain or somewhere.’

  Tara stood up. ‘Thank you, Dame Guardian. We’re playing at home on Tuesday.’ She looked at me. ‘There is no debt in justice, Dragonslayer. Remember that.’ She went round the group, ‘Doctor Bannister, Guardian Robson, go well. Rani, thank you again for your hospitality, and for a great night.’

  I offered to escort her back to her car, and she accepted. We walked in silence for a while, and then she said, ‘The People have a reputation for being devious and planning for the long term. If I didn’t know that it was biologically impossible, I’d swear that your boss has some of our blood in her.’

  ‘The Children of Israel know a thing or two about the long term.’

  ‘I suppose they do.’

  We crunched on to the gravel and came to the front of the house. I don’t think Elvenham has ever had two Bentleys parked outside it. Selena Bannister’s was an older, more sedate Mulsanne. Tara Doyle had of course opted for the full Bentayga. A huge man, a Fae Knight in her service, got out, and he was all shadows and muscles. He held the back door open for her and stood guard.