Daughter of Light and Shadows

by Anna McKerrow

  They had slept together only once, but it had been months since then. Aisha was impatient with the dreams where he came and spoke to her and filled her with unresolved desire, but also came to her with messages and requests; things for her to do for him in the ordinary world. He had promised and promised: a world beyond this one, where she could merge herself into the fabric of all being. He would show her life at the atomic level. He had spoken to her in the terms she understood, had taken the fascination of her scientific work and woven it into the seductive treasure of his faerie domain. If only she would help him, just a little, here and there…

  At first she had connected to Finn through his music. At the concert, before she had taken Faye outside, she too had been transported to a strange place: a room with a golden four-poster bed, a room hung with blue and green tapestries adorned with strange symbols. Finn Beatha had taken her hand and pulled her onto the bed without any preamble; she was naked, suddenly, and he was kissing her. His hand stroked her thigh, and she had wanted more, oh, so much more, when Faye had jolted her away from her reverie.

  The next night, in a dream, he had told Aisha to take down the hagstone charm that Faye kept hanging by the shop door so that he could enter. And, in gratitude, he had made love to Aisha a week later on the sheepskin rug in front of the hearth, inside the shop, in the middle of the day; she had locked the door behind him, but had not even thought of being seen through the long windows of the shop. He filled her with an unruly, wild lust that made her not herself; she wasn’t Aisha when his fingertips grazed her nipples and she cried out for more; she wasn’t herself when he kissed her neck, her throat, when he made her strip naked and stand in front of him. She didn’t think twice about obeying him when he commanded her to touch herself as he watched and then, when she was almost at climax, her belly hot and sweet, made her kneel on all fours. It didn’t escape her that this was the same the rug she had, not long ago, sat on whilst she, Faye and Annie had conjured their love spell. And when he entered her, kneeling behind her, she had welcomed the deep pressure of him bringing her pleasure closer and closer until she ground against him, crying out, and he held her waist and then gripped her breasts as he climaxed.

  Soon they would be together for ever. He would make her his queen. He had whispered to her in her increasingly hot and fervid dreams, Midsummer, midsummer, midsummer delight; come to the faeries on midsummer night. Something big was going to happen tonight. She had done what he asked her in the dreams. She was his faithful lover. She knew her reward was coming, and she ached for its sweetness.

  At that moment, Finn Beatha looked directly at her and smiled.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  ‘Don’t leave me.’ Rav reached out weakly for her as she eased him into her bed. ‘Please, Faye.’

  ‘It’s okay. You’ll be all right,’ she whispered as she pulled her old patchwork quilt over him and handed him a herbal tea – a sedative. Valerian and hops would make him sleep, and sleep was what he needed right now. In the distance, she could hear the thump and roar of the festival like a storm off the horizon.

  She sat on the edge of the bed and held his hand, waiting for the tea to take effect. He was so feeble, already, after so little time in Faerie.

  ‘I… what happened? I don’t understand… what happened.’ Rav yawned, and his eyes fluttered closed. ‘Where was I, Faye? The dance… I… I can’t remember how I got there…’ Faye held his hand gently as he drank thirstily.

  ‘Just sleep,’ she whispered, and put her other hand on his brow. Rav sighed, and settled back into the pillows. She had walked him back to her house rather than take him anywhere close to his; that close to the faerie road felt like a risk: would Finn take him again? Glitonea had helped them escape, but Finn had seen them in the great hall. He was there, frozen, when she picked up Rav and carried him out.

  Faye felt a stab of grief for Moddie, but she pushed it to one side in her heart. Moddie had died, and was still dead. Whether she remained in Murias in spirit or whether Finn would leave her imprisoned in the labyrinth, Faye couldn’t guess. She resolved to one day return to free Moddie; she shivered as she remembered the leaves snaking down her mother’s throat. She had seen the shadow in Murias, and it was terrifying.

  Rav’s breathing fell into a deep rhythm and she gently released her hand from his, waiting a few more minutes to make sure he was really knocked out. She looked out of the window; on the horizon the sun was setting over the ocean, making the island off the shore a brooding silhouette.

  But it wasn’t that easy. After her escape, she wouldn’t be allowed back into Murias. She’d done the right thing, but at what cost? She had saved Rav, but agreed to an infernal bargain in the process; it was exactly like the old stories.

  At Midwinter one of the faerie kingdoms of Murias, Falias, Gorias or Finias take a child, and at Midsummer, a willing woman. The child must be under a year old, so that it can be raised in the Glass Castle with no memory of its mortal parents, and the woman must be fair, and willing to join the Faerie Dance forever more. In thanks, the faerie king and faerie queen will bless the land and grant boons to the villagers of Abercolme for their generous offerings.

  She remembered it from Grandmother’s grimoire, but she had hardly believed it could be true. Thinking about it now, Faye shuddered. She had never thought much about having a child herself but, if she did, she would be damned before she gave it up to live in Murias.

  Rav started to snore. Faye got up quietly and pulled the coat on properly, then padded downstairs in her socks. She would find a way out of the bargain with Glitonea when the time came; the important thing was that she had saved Rav. She had chosen him over Finn, and it felt right.

  Downstairs in the shop the last of the day’s light glanced through the plate-glass windows; it was late, past nine, but this was the longest day of the year, after all. Midsummer. And, in the distance, Faye could hear music thumping through the village.

  She had to confront Finn. There was a reason Dal Riada were performing at Abercolme Rocks; Finn wasn’t just there for the adulation, she was sure. Midsummer was the time the faeries abducted women, to nurse their faerie babies or to live as human lovers, never to return. Was this what Finn had in mind? Before, she would have dismissed the idea. But now, it seemed all too real. The men and women that lay unconscious on the floor of the great hall, imprisoned in Murias, had come from somewhere. And Faye had experienced Dal Riada’s own special brand of enchantment for herself.

  She looked around her at the shelves and then behind the counter, at the neatly labelled glass jars Moddie had arranged on the shelves and which Faye refilled as faithfully as her mother had. What could help her? What would count as strong enough magic against a faerie king who was able to entrance whole rooms of people with his enchantments? A faerie king who, whenever Faye was in his presence, made her forget everything except him and the deep desire that thrummed in every part of her body when he was near?

  If she was to stop him, Faye had to resist his power.

  She stared at the jars, feeling the pulse of the music in the ground under her feet, pulling her to the abandoned castle. Not yet, not yet, I’m not ready, she thought, trying to push against Finn’s call, but her faerie blood was responding to his demand. She could feel that familiar lassitude begin to cover her; instinctively, her hands went to her throat, feeling the seductive ghost of the opals against her skin.

  ‘No, no, NO!’ she shouted aloud. Moddie had taught her, when she was older and could understand more about magic, sometimes the best way to banish energy was to just shout at it to go away or be gone, as loudly and definitely as you could. Whatever spell Finn was casting right now – and she had no doubt that he was – he wasn’t going to weave her into it as neatly as he had before.

  She took a sage bundle out of a bowl and put it in her pocket with a lighter and a small bottle of rue water. Both were good for banishing and cleansing bad energy, but she doubted that either would be enough to combat Finn. Wha
t else? There were poisons – henbane, belladonna, wolfsbane, digitalis – among her herbs, though they were only dangerous if they were used in the wrong quantities or the wrong way. But she couldn’t exactly get Finn to drink a poisoned tea if he was onstage… and, anyway, she didn’t want to kill him, only stop him taking any more men and women into Murias. After the show perhaps she could sneak backstage and offer him something. But her instinct was that if he was going to do something, it would be during the performance. After would be too late.

  Her gaze alighted on the protective charm that hung over the door: a black ribbon onto which were tied nine hagstones: pebbles with naturally occurring holes through them. Both the charm and the bells that hung next to it and jangled every time someone came in kept bad intentions and bad doings away, Grandmother said. And, if you looked though the holes, you could see faeries and see through faerie enchantments. Faye unhooked it and took it down gently, putting it in her pocket. It felt wrong leaving the shop and Rav unguarded and taking the charm with her, but her instinct told her that this was the right thing to do, and Faye found that it was usually best to obey any instincts she had, especially when it came to magic.

  She locked the door behind her and set off down the street, noting the minister in his garden opposite, stubbornly ignoring the music. The village was otherwise deserted; everyone was at the concert and that meant that everyone in Abercolme was currently under Finn Beatha’s spell. She quickened her steps and broke into a run as the thump of the music grew louder and more insistent, and as the sun set over the ocean, covering Abercolme in darkness.

  Chapter Forty

  Faye could hear Finn’s voice over the PA system as she panted her way through the gates and showed her ticket; Rav had left her one. He was singing in that strange, otherworldly way he had, and a chill ran up her spine.

  ‘Bit late, miss.’ The older man on the gate nodded her through. ‘They’re almost finished for the night. You better hurry.’

  ‘I will,’ she gasped, and ran through the field where a number of food and drink stalls were packing up for the night; some people were chatting at the makeshift bar, and the occasional person too worse for wear was strewn on the grass. But apart from these, everyone was watching Dal Riada.

  Faye felt a wave of fear wash over her in a way it never had before when thinking about Finn.

  She was right at the back of the crowd, but there were two large screens, one on either side of the stage, that were showing the action onstage. As she looked over the shoulders of the thousand or more people in front of her, both screens focused in on Finn’s face as he held the last note for a long moment. It was jarring to look at him; at the face she knew so well, at the high cheekbones she’d kissed, at the full lips she had bitten gently, had tasted so often. She felt a pang of fear; it was terrifying, how he had been able to seduce her. At the same moment, he opened his eyes and smiled into the camera that fed the screens, and right at her.

  It was just a moment, one second, but she knew she had been seen. There was a flicker of displeasure in his eyes.

  ‘Thank you, Abercolme!’ he shouted, and bowed at the waist. The rest of the band came to the front of the stage amidst deafening cheering, clapping, catcalling. The crowd were beside themselves, in the same kind of hypnotised delirium she’d been in that first time, at the bar in Edinburgh.

  She looked at the faces of the people standing around her, lit only by the florescent plastic bangles and necklaces they wore. Some of their faces were painted with rainbows and flowers, some wore glittery faerie wings that picked up the firelight from six tall iron cages that were packed with burning hay. The strange half-light gave them all a wild look she recognised all too well from the faerie ball. They were enchanted, and Finn Beatha had them right where he wanted them.

  The band filed off the stage, but the stage lights stayed down, and the crowd started to cheer for an encore. Faye started to push through the crowd; she had the strong feeling that something was happening, but she didn’t know what. She only knew that she had to get to the stage and stop Finn.

  ‘More! More!’ the crowd were screaming at the stage. Faye got through a few rows, but the gap she was following closed in front of her just like the labyrinth had, and she was hemmed in by a group of drunk girls – or, at least, they seemed drunk – who wouldn’t let her through.

  ‘Eh, stop pushing!’ One pushed her back, and her friend shot her an evil, possessive look. ‘Get back. We were here first.’

  Faye looked around, but she couldn’t see a way through. She was starting to panic when she saw Aisha walk onto the stage. Aisha was here! Yes. Of course, she had been so excited about the concert – Rav must have given her a backstage pass. If she could get her friend’s attention, Aisha would help her. But Aisha was onstage, and Faye was still rows away from being able to make herself heard over the chaos.

  Faye made her way to the side of the crowd and gestured to a St John’s Ambulance man, who frowned at her but came over anyway.

  ‘What is it? Concert’s nearly over. If you want the ladies’ room I can’t let you through this way.’

  ‘No, I… it’s not that. I need to talk to my friend. On stage. It’s urgent,’ Faye replied as politely as she could, but her heart was pounding with urgency.

  ‘Sorry, love. No can do.’ He smiled at her.

  ‘Please. It’s that girl I want to speak to. With the dark hair, up there?’ Faye pointed to the side of the stage where Aisha was watching Finn raptly. ‘Please, it’s urgent. She knows me.’

  ‘Can’t it wait, sweetheart? There’s still the encore – ten minutes and they’ll be finished, this lot. Not that it’s my cup of tea.’

  ‘No, really. I need to speak with her now,’ Faye gripped the hagstone charm in her pocket. ‘Please. It’s a matter of life and death.’ it wasn’t necessarily a lie, she told herself, although she felt like she was being overly dramatic. Still, her instinct was shouting that something bad was about to happen, and she had to stop it.

  The man sighed.

  ‘Ah, all right. But don’t tell your friends or they’ll all want to get through.’ He unhooked the security rope and let her through. ‘I’ve got to search ye, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Fine.’ Faye opened her coat and turned out her pockets; the man took the sage bundle from her and sniffed it, then gave it back. ‘Going to make some stuffing later, are ye?’ he grinned, then frowned at the hagstone charm. ‘What’s this?’

  ‘Oh, it’s… a necklace,’ Faye lied. The man scratched his beard and held up the stones on their ribbon to his eyes.

  ‘It isn’t a necklace, sweetheart. These are hagstones.’ He met her eyes and stared into them for a long moment, then handed the charm back to her.

  ‘I can go?’ she asked, her eyes darting to the stage. The band were coming back onstage; she could hear the guitarist adjusting the tuning on his guitar before they started playing again.

  ‘Aye. Right you are.’ He pointed along a walkway that was delineated by traffic cones along the grass. ‘That way should take you to the cabins, and the side of the stage.’

  ‘Oh. Thank you!’ Faye tried not to show her surprise, but the man nodded.

  ‘I didn’t recognise ye at first. You’re Modron Morgan’s daughter, aye?’

  ‘That’s right.’ Faye didn’t think she knew the man, but he smiled at her again.

  ‘Fine woman, she was. I know better than to disrespect Moddie’s kin. Not least anyone who carries those.’ He pointed at the hagstones, which Faye returned to her pocket.

  ‘Thank you.’ She smiled this time, and pressed his hand. He blushed.

  ‘Get away with ye. Urgent business, ye said.’

  She nodded and ran up the walkway. There wasn’t time for pleasantries.

  Aisha was still standing at the side of the stage watching the band when Faye found her. She turned around when Faye tapped her on the shoulder.

  ‘Faye! Where have you been? Where’s Rav?’ Aisha turned her eyes away from F
inn reluctantly; Faye could see that whatever spell Finn had cast on the audience, Aisha was caught in it too.

  ‘There’s no time. Rav’s safe.’

  ‘Safe? I just thought the pressure got to him or something. When he didn’t turn up—’

  ‘No. He was…’ Faye shook her head. ‘I’ll tell you later, okay? But we have to end the gig. Now. Before Finn can…’ She broke off, because Aisha had turned away from her and was staring raptly at the stage. ‘Aish! Please. We have to stop it. Put the curtain down. Put the lights up. Whatever we have to do to get the people to leave… I…’ Faye exhaled in frustration. ‘It’s dangerous.’

  ‘What? Why?’ Aisha’s brow furrowed. ‘It’s all run fine so far.’

  ‘I don’t know exactly,’ Faye confessed.

  ‘You don’t know? Then why all the panic?’ Aisha hissed. ‘Faye. Please. It’s the last song. Stop being a drama queen.’

  Finn was playing the flute, and the quick trills of notes, up and down, had grown faster and faster. The drummer was playing so fast that the individual beats were hardly decipherable.

  ‘But he’s not what he seems. Finn Beatha. He’s… Look, I know you won’t believe me. But he’s enchanting this whole crowd for some kind of nefarious purpose. He’s a faerie king, Aisha. I know, I’ve been to the faerie realm. I’ve seen it. Please. I think he wants to take… a woman, maybe more than one, back to his kingdom. To be his lover. Trapped there for ever.’ Faye pulled at her friend’s arm to make her turn away from the stage and, as she did so, her hand slid down to Aisha’s wrist, and she noticed the rose gold, opal ring on Aisha’s index finger: the same as hers.

  Her eyes widened in shock as Aisha pulled her hand away.

  ‘No!’ Aisha scowled at her. ‘God, you’ve always got to be in control, haven’t you? Got to be the top dog. Can’t stand it that I have Finn Beatha now.’