Faerie (7 page)

“You better watch out that one doesn’t fall on you,” Lily replied, crossing her fingers as she said it, just in case her magic got the better of her. “I’m going to see my new place today after school. I shouldn’t be too long, though. I’ll be back in time to give the kid’s their bath and put them to bed.”

Kieran followed her into the kitchen and helped himself to half a box of cereal, slopping milk everywhere.

“Bloody good riddance,” he said. “The new girl’s a babe, I checked her out on Facebook.”

“Yes, and she’s really going to be interested in you, isn’t she? You’re so fit,” Lily sniped back. Kieran’s face reddened.

“You can bloody well talk – who the fuck would ever want to touch you? You probably haven’t even got a pussy.”

Lily fought back the pain-fuelled rage, her fists clenched, jaw clamped to hold back the curse that was trying desperately to escape. Instead she bent close to his ear and whispered:

“Maybe I should leave your new girlfriend a note telling her that you’ve selected her to be your new wank buddy.  I’m sure she’ll be impressed, you skinny streak of piss, as long as three inch needle-dicks do it for her.”

Kieran lashed out in blind fury, laying a punch into her ribs. Lily doubled over and fell backwards, and without even knowing what she was doing flung a curse at him. He began to scream, tumbling from the chair, holding his hands to his head, and rolling on the floor in agony.

“What the hell’s going on?” Claire yelled, bending over him and trying to pull his hands from his head.

“I think Kieran’s got a migraine,” Lily said, through pinched lips, pulling herself up and straightening her clothes. Kieran was clutching his head, moaning. “I’m sure it will wear off in a couple of hours.”

And with that she picked up her bag and left the house.

Chapter Six.

It was raining, that light, warm summer rain that made the world fragrant with the smells of nature: wet grass and leaves and that slightly bitter taste that hangs in the air, sharp, like copper pennies, making everything seem so fresh. The sky was the sickly yellow that only comes with rain and there were thunder clouds over the hills, their low grumbling rumble a distant sound, as if they just wanted to remind people that they were there and not to get too complacent.

She felt bad about what she’d done to Kieran – she shouldn’t have lost her temper with him – she wasn’t herself, her usual innate goodness corrupted by the fear she felt for the Shadow People; he was a winkle, but she knew that a lot of his aggression was his way of dealing with a world that hadn’t done him any favours. She’d have a prize bruise on her rib cage where his fist had landed, but there was no real harm done. What he’d said had hurt her, though, far more than the physical injury; she hadn’t realised just how little he thought of her.

She removed the curse almost as soon as she got out of the door and felt better for it. She only had to put up with him for a couple of days more – and perhaps this new girl would be a better sister to him than she’d ever been. She’d say sorry to him when she got back home.

Lily let the rain wash over her, wanting it to make her clean, and loving the feel of it on her face. Her glasses were steaming up and she had to take them off to wipe them every so often. She suddenly realised that the rain, as refreshing as it was, was going to wash away the talcum powder and pan-stick, leaving behind a scrubbed and shiny bright fairy, for all the world to see. She’d have to stop off somewhere and redo it before she got to school. Her clothes were getting soggy, but she didn’t care, she just wanted to wash away all of the misery of last night. Every time she closed her eyes she could see that creature on top of her, feel him between her legs, like the lingering touch of a slug on her skin. Her belly felt raw and uncomfortable, as if there was some residue of that darkness still left there. She wanted to flush it out, feel clean again, but she thought that perhaps she would never feel clean again. Then the dreadful thought hit her that that creature might have left more than semen behind. It couldn’t be possible that she could get pregnant by it, could it? The thought was too terrible to entertain. She kept seeing visions of a little shadow baby, nursing at her breast, suckling. She forced the images away.

All of these years she had thought that she was safe behind the greasepaint, but it had only been illusion, last night had proved that a lie; she had never really been safe.

She approached the stretch of the road where the sheep’s carcass had been with trepidation, but all traces of it had gone. All that was left was a trampled patch of mud, and large booted foot prints that were rapidly being washed away. She wondered what had gone through the poor owner’s mind as he carted the carcass away. How could anyone explain such inexplicable barbarism? It had been a cruel ploy to trick Lily into believing that she had any chance of defending herself against those creatures. Psychological warfare at its best. Offer the victim a crumb of hope, a chance of escape, let them think that they might be able to fight back, and then cruelly snatch it away from them at the last minute. She knew the djinn were malicious tricksters, but dear God, had she ever underestimated them.

She carried on walking, melancholy, letting her tears mingle with the rain and glad that no-one could see her. As soon as she got into college she rushed straight to the loo, locked herself in a cubicle and reapplied the talcum powder and pan-stick, cursing herself for her cowardice.

The day passed tortuously slowly, and Lily had spent much of it thinking dark thoughts, of Shadow people and pain. Not surprisingly the three Bs weren’t in college, but the thought of their suffering was no consolation. Their brand of cruelty was nothing compared to that of the creatures that had attacked her last night; they were just children playing games in comparison. Almost all of the students were exchanging phone numbers and addresses, hands covered in Biroed scribblings, scraps of paper flying in all directions, with people promising to keep in touch. There were still three days left of the term, technically, but a lot never bothered to come in for those few days, it was hardly worth it, because all they did was play music and mess around – nobody did any work. She stood on the side lines, watching, and thought little of it when no-one approached her to exchange information – she hadn’t really expected anyone to. She looked around for Gary, but he’d obviously decided to take the day off.

Everyone was disappearing now, the classrooms emptying, as groups of friends drifted off and she was finally left alone in the class room. The last day of this part of her life, and it was strange to think that she would never come back into this room again, never come to the college again. All of those people had gone from her life and she had to say she was glad to see most of them go. She would see them around in the village sometimes and perhaps even give them a polite nod, but they would be strangers to her. But when she thought of it, they had always been strangers, hadn’t they? There wasn’t one of them she’d miss – accept perhaps Gary. She collected the last few things from her locker and walked along the corridor to the front entrance, looking back over her shoulder just once as she walked down the steps into her new life.

Once out of college, Lily realised that she couldn’t face going home just yet, couldn’t face Claire, not right now. She needed time to collect her thoughts, to try and reconcile herself with what had happened. She wondered how Connor was today, how he was coping. She wished with all of her heart that she could see him, just to reassure him that she was all right, even if she wasn’t. She wondered if she’d actually be able to fool him.

She decided she would go to her most favourite spot in the whole world, the great twisted old tree at the end of the lane that stood all alone in the featureless field; it’s gnarled old trunk looked as if it had been there a thousand years, and probably had. It was as wide as a small cottage, its great canopy of leaves spreading out like a great umbrella. She loved that tree, and explored every knot hole to see if it was a hidden entrance to Elphame ‒ the other world. So far she had found nothing, although she had never tried it at twilight. Perhaps she would one day. Quite often when she was allowed out, she would go to her tree and sit underneath it, reading for as long as she dare or playing her music. It was the happiest of times for her.

Connor. She needed Connor. It was a sudden and urgent thought, and a ridiculous one – she hardly knew him – and yet, wasn’t that man and fey’s most basic and primitive motivation, to gravitate to those that were of the same tribe or kind as you were? It had always been that way since time immemorial, that unlike magnets, like attracted like. You only had to look at the ghettos in any major cities to see that in action. There was comfort and security in sticking within the herd, and right now Connor was her herd.

Lost in melancholy thought, she settled herself under the shade of her tree; the sun was still warm, a lovely summer evening, bright with the promise of a glorious sunset, with just the barest hint of breeze ruffling the still air. She took out her tenor recorder, her favourite; she had saved long and hard to be able to afford it, and she loved it dearly, polished dark wood, and gloriously mellow. She had three recorders, a descant, which had a bright and happy sound, high pitched and chirpy, like bird song, a treble, mid-toned and sweet, the tenor, deeper and more mellow, round warm tones that she used for more gentle and melancholy pieces. She composed her own music, creating melodies in her head. They seemed to come to her so easily, beautiful tunes that filled the air with magic. She picked up the tenor recorder and began to play, a soft sad melody, that floated across the still summer air. She lost herself in it, letting the music wrap around her, transporting her away from this world into another reality, where she could see Elphame, where she could see home, trying to find some kind of solace, but there was none.

She looked up, and there was Connor.

For a moment she wasn’t sure if he was actually there or she was just seeing some illusory image of him, but she blinked and he was still there, standing just a few feet in front of her, smiling beatifically at her. His feet were bare. He almost threw himself at her, wrapping his arms around her neck and almost throttling her with his exuberance, obviously overjoyed at seeing her again. He was a good foot taller than her and she found herself smothered against his chest. She extricated herself with difficulty, gently easing him away and looked up into those impossibly green eyes – eyes she saw every time she looked in the mirror.

“Connor, what are you doing here? You’re going to get into so much trouble!”

He just blinked at her, confused, hurt at her less then enthusiastic welcome. She relented, seeing how hurt he was and smiled at him, closing her hand over his. For an instant she caught a glimpse of his glamour. It was subtle, looking like him and yet not like him; all of his features and colouring were the same, but there was a dullness about him, some little variance that made him less than he was in his fey form – it was like comparing the beauty of a real rose to one made of paper, although he was still very handsome. The image vanished almost as quickly as it had come, and she could see Connor’s real self again, a true High Shee. His mouth was soft and full, his eyes large, expressive, his features sensitive – a male version of her and so familiar to her it was almost as if she had seen this face every day of her life and new every inch of its form – knew every inch of him.

“Lily,” he said, beaming the saddest of smiles at her. He lifted her hand and put it against his cheek, as if he needed reassurance that she was actually there. He pulled the bag from his shoulder and rummaged inside, pulling out a rather battered iPad. On the front was a fluorescent orange sticker with ‘Connor’ written in felt tip pen. He screwed up his face in concentration, and pressed the ‘on’ button. The screen lit up with the yellow notepad page, and with frowned concentration he hit the ‘+’ in the corner. The keyboard sprang up and with one finger jabs he typed in:

I heard your music... had to see u

Lily was slightly bewildered for a moment, because it seemed so incongruous that someone who was obviously having so much trouble communicating verbally could use an iPad to ‘speak’ more or less fluently. But then when she thought about it she’d heard of quite a few cases where people suffering from autism could do wonderful things – play the piano, draw masterpieces and show incredible talent in other areas. It seems she had underestimated Connor.  

“But your home is right on the other side of the village. You couldn’t have heard it,” Lily said.

Then she realised – of course – it was fey music, and of course he could hear it.

I had to come... i know shadow people  hurt u...   r u alright

“Connor, you shouldn’t be here, you’ll get into terrible trouble.”

She looked up from the screen and into his eyes, and for a moment saw herself reflected in their brightness, then it was as if her gaze when right through their sparkling green, and she found herself seeing images and thoughts that weren’t hers. For a moment there was a touching of souls, and it was the strangest sensation.

I am sorry...  i tried to come to you but i was too late

“I’m okay. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine, really, those bastards don’t scare me,” she lied.

He moved in, taking her in his arms and holding her close, pressing his lips to her forehead in something like a kiss, a reassurance that she was safe; his breath was hot against her face, sweet, though, as if he’d just been eating ice cream or cake.

“Lily... safe now,” he said.

Lily just clung onto him, burying her face in his chest; he smelt of a strange combination of fried food, soap and clean sweat, but his warmth was comforting and she wanted to stay there like that forever. She finally gave in to the truth and to tears, unable to hold it in any longer.

“They’ve been coming to my room every night,” Lily said, tears streaming down her cheeks now, “hurting me. I don’t know what to do any more. The last time...”

“I... know,” he stammered. “I know.”

She looked into his eyes and watched the first tears spill over the edge.

“I’m glad you came, anyway. I have so many questions, so much to ask. You know that you’re like me, don’t you? You’re fey.”

He screwed up his face in concentration for long moments and then nodded. Lily thought that it wasn’t her words he’d understood, but her thoughts. His fingers jabbed in earnest at the keyboard.

I am like u... from other place... not here... we r the same

“Yes, we are,” she said. “Somehow you can see through my eyes, and me through yours. It almost feels that we’re part of the same thing. I just don’t understand why we haven’t felt each other before now.”

And as she looked at him she felt such an overwhelming feeling of peace and contentment that it stopped her breath in her lungs. It almost felt as if she had gone home. She couldn’t explain it, not in words, but there seemed such a ‘rightness’ to their being together, a feeling that they had always known one another and would always know one another. They just sat for long moments, trapped by the other’s gaze, and Lily knew, just knew that they were meant to be together.

I only come here now... before i was too far away