Faerie Tale (16 page)

‘How do you think Hecaté managed to bring us all back?’

‘Nothing’s free,’ put in Tamar.’

‘Oh God,’ said Stiles as this sunk in.’

‘Don’t talk to yourself,’ said Denny.  ‘I’ll think you’ve lost your mind.’

Stiles gave a weak smile at this sally.

‘That’s why we didn’t tell you,’ said Tamar.

‘So now we
all
know,’ said Denny. ‘Except Cindy. I suppose we’d better tell her too.’

Hecaté appeared in the room. ‘You will have to find her first,’ she said.  ‘Cindy has left the house.  She took the little one with her and all of her clothes too.  She appears to have left for good.’

Denny groaned.  ‘More trouble,’ he said.

* * *

Cindy was barrelling along an eerily deserted motorway on stolen motorbike (stolen from Denny actually although he rarely used it) with the wind whipping through her hair (witches do not need crash helmets).  She did not know where she was going, or how far. Just so long as it was far, far away from Den … the others.  She could have gone farther and faster by teleporting, but everyone knew that the Faeries could sense witch magic (well, for a given value of
everyone
) so it just was not worth it.  And anyway, Tamar could easily track her that way.  She did not want any trouble, not with Faeries or with Tamar, if Tamar caught up with her it would definitely lead to awkward questions.

For the moment, anyway she was happy.  She felt curiously free.  Later, when she came to analyse her feelings, she knew she would feel both lonely and wretched.  But so what?  She had felt lonely and wretched at home and, deep in her heart, she knew very well the reason why.

It was at this moment that her mind decided to throw up the inconvenient memory that Tamar, of all people, had remembered Mother’s Day that year and had even provided a card and flowers, ostensibly from Jacky.  Even Hecaté had not remembered.

But Tamar
had
.  Cindy just could not figure it out.

The small bundle strapped to her back gurgled happily, and Cindy was grateful for that at least. At least he was not frightened.  On the contrary, he seemed to be having the most fun she had ever known him to have.  Thank God, there were no Plod about.  Cindy winced as she thought this.  “Plod” was a Denny word and one that a few years ago she would not have dreamed of uttering, even in the privacy of her head.

But then, she had changed and in greater ways than this. 

What a pity nobody seemed to have noticed.

* * *

‘
Why
would she leave?’ this was Tamar, she sounded angry – which meant that she was worried. 

Stiles shrugged, and Hecaté looked perplexed, but Denny looked thoughtful.

Tamar would, at one time have pounced on this and demanded to know what he was thinking. 

Fortunately, Stiles was there to pick up the slack. ‘What do
you
think?’ he asked Denny.

‘I think she’s sick and tired of us,’ said Denny.  ‘And I don’t blame her either.’

‘But it’s not
safe
out there,’ said Tamar ignoring the implication.

‘It’s not safe in
here
either,’ said Denny.  ‘Not anymore.’

‘Well …
you’ll
have to go and get her,’ said Tamar in a fair imitation of her usual high-handed manner.  ‘It has to be you,’ she added.  ‘You’re the only one she’ll listen to.’

‘Me?’ said Denny innocently.

‘Oh come on, we all know she has a crush on you.’

‘Only now and then,’ said Denny vaguely, before he had time to think.

‘So?  Boss her about a bit.’

Denny blushed.  He had not realised she had noticed.  But of
course
she had, he realised.  She probably thought it was funny.  And that was the problem wasn’t it?  None of them took Cindy very seriously.  No wonder she had gone.  He suddenly felt terribly guilty.  He had more reason than anyone here to feel this way. He had a horrible feeling that this was his fault – well, well
mainly
his fault.  But surely, Cindy had not been …

He became aware that Tamar was looking quizzically at him.

‘All right, all right.’ He gave in. ‘But I want Jack to come too, she’s bound to have covered her tracks. I need a detective.’  He did not want to face Cindy alone. That was the truth of it, if he was honest.

Stiles saluted ironically. ‘Yessir,’ he said.  ‘At your service sah?’

‘She won’t be all that hard to find
surely
?’ said Tamar.  ‘This is
Cindy
we’re talking about.’

‘Don’t underestimate her,’ said Denny. ‘She’s not stupid you know.’

‘No she is not.’ said Hecaté.  ‘She really is not.’

Tamar looked bewilderedly at both of them.

‘She’s
not
?’

* * *

‘See I told you,’ said Denny.  ‘She took my bike; I
knew
she wouldn’t use magic.  Too risky.’

‘What do you think she was afraid of?’ said Tamar ironically, ‘me or the Faeries?’

‘Both probably.’

‘Hmm.’ Stiles was thinking.  ‘She probably went north then.  It’s clear that way.  The Faeries are all the other way.’

‘They’ve closed the roads off to the north,’ said Denny.

‘Exactly, said Stiles, ‘a nice clear run.  She’s a
witch –
remember?  If she even knows the traffic laws, you can bet she doesn’t apply them to herself.’

‘Unless she thinks that we’ll think of that,’ said Denny.

‘Hah!’ said Tamar.  ‘That would be graduate level thinking for Cindy.’

‘Tamar’s right,’ said Stiles, ‘Cindy may not be stupid, but let’s not give her
too
much credit.’

‘It’s far more likely that she doesn’t think we’ll bother chasing her,’ said Denny severely.

‘Hecaté?’ said Stiles.  ‘Can’t
you
sense her?’

‘No, I cannot.  She is moving too fast.’

‘Okay,’ said Denny carefully, ‘in what direction?’

Hecaté concentrated.  ‘North north east,’ she said.

‘That’s the motorway,’ said Denny.  ‘Come on Jack. Let’s get her back before she does something …’

‘Stupid?’ supplied Tamar.

~ Chapter Twenty One ~

I
t was getting dark, and the hills were turning a misty purple colour; it was getting cold.

Cindy skidded the motor bike to an inexpert stop and blinked. The hills were doing strange things in the foggy twilight, moving nearer and farther, bowing and rippling like thin silk in a breeze. Suddenly a hill detached itself from the others and stood up in the shape of an exceptionally large man.

Now Cindy had seen some pretty astounding things over the last few years, but this was a bit too much for her.  She whimpered and tried to convince herself she was dreaming.  The man stood against the skyline, bigger than King Kong, stretched arms several miles long, and said in a loud, booming voice that carried over the countryside. ‘THAT ART BETTYR.’

Then he spotted Cindy.

Cindy remembered herself and checked Jacky who was not, as she had expected, rigid with terror but rather seemed, not only calm, but actually happy.

She did not have time to wonder about this, as the colossal figure was walking upright down the steep slope of the hill in a manner that surely no human being could have managed.

Contrary to the usual way of natural perspective, however, he seemed to be diminishing in size the closer he came to her until he stood before her hardly any taller than she was.  There was no question of running away; her legs were paralysed.  Her tongue was not though.

‘Who the hell are you?’ she managed a little shakily but reasonably calmly in the circumstances.

‘You should go home,’ he told her.  ‘It isn’t safe for witches out here.  She will find you.’

He turned his attention to Jacky who gurgled happily.  ‘Ah,’ he said.  ‘My son.  You have taken good care of him I see.’  And he reached a hand out to the baby. 

Cindy snatched him away angrily.  Suddenly she knew who this was.

‘Finvarra!’ she said wonderingly. ‘Tamar said you were dead.’

‘Do you really think that I can be killed so easily?’ he said.  ‘I who have walked this earth for a thousand years.’

‘
I don’t care
!’ yelled Cindy.  ‘Where the hell is
my
son?’  

‘He is safe,’ said Finvarra.

‘Where is …’ 

Finvarra took her gaze and held it; there was a terrible darkness in his eyes.  There was a moment of dizziness then the world fell away, and everything went black.

* * *

She awoke to find an anxious Denny bending over her.  ‘Cindy?’ he was saying.  ‘Cindy, are you all right?  What happened?’ he lifted her gently onto her feet.  ‘Did you have an accident?’

‘Finvarra,’ she managed.

‘Denny,’ he told her, not understanding.

‘No, he was here, where’s Jacky?’

‘He’s fine,’ Denny assured her. ‘Jack took him home  What do you mean he was here?  Finvarra’s dead.’

‘Not dead, I saw him. He … he …’

Okay, okay, never mind for now, as long as you’re all right.  You can tell me later – at home.’

There was no gainsaying that tone of voice when he used it. It meant you did what he said and did not argue.

He never asked her why she had left.

He did not want to know, she thought, which meant he had a good idea, he just did not want to hear it.  Well, that was all right with her.  She did not want to say it.  

The journey back was the most terrifying and exhilarating experience of Cindy’s life.  She had thought she had ridden the bike pretty fast, but Denny drove everything from a truck to a pedal boat at what Tamar referred to as warp speed. 

Stiles had taken the car that he and Denny had driven together, and he drove sedately home, aware that he had what, for want of a better description, he called a “kiddie” in the back, and without a child seat to strap him into. 

Which meant that Denny and Cindy
should
have been home long before him. 

* * *

Denny skidded to a halt in a much more professional manner than she had done she could not help noticing admiringly.  And for a similar reason –  there was someone in the road.  A woman or at least a female person.  It was the Faerie Queen. 

Denny dismounted slowly and menacingly and stood rocking on his heels looking at her in a manner that Cindy fervently hoped he never used on her. 

Then, suddenly, Cindy knew what she had to do. 

She teleported straight for the stones

Without missing a beat, Denny followed her, and hot on his heels was the Queen.

Cindy only had a few seconds lead, but it was enough. As the Faerie Queen re-materialised Cindy grabbed her, pulled her through the stones and held her there. 

For once, she had completely confounded Denny. ‘What the hell …?’ he began. 

The Faerie Queen pulled free from Cindy and ran. Ran away farther into the Faerie realm.  It was either that or face Denny, and no one would do that at the moment.  He was confused and, therefore, pissed off and ready to take it out on anyone he did not particularly like.  The Faerie Queen qualified. 

It was about to get much worse for Denny.

‘She’ll get out again,’ said Denny, ‘unless we guard it.’

‘No,’ said Cindy, grimly determined.  ‘It ends here.  ‘She took a large kitchen knife that she kept secreted about her person at all times.  Mystic Athames were all very well, but every witch knows that sometimes you can’t beat a good, sharp bread knife.

Denny got the point at once, but he asked the question anyway as if it was part of an invisible script.  ‘What are you doing?’

He tried to get to her but was stopped by an invisible barrier at the stones.  It seemed that Cindy had a will of her own when she wanted to.  Denny could probably have broken through in time.  But he sensed that he did not have
enough
time.

‘Sealing the portal behind her,’ said Cindy.  ‘Don’t try to stop me.  You can’t anyway.  She came for
you
.  She was looking for you and, as soon as you left the protection of the house, she
found
you.  She’ll never stop. As long as she’s here you’ll never be able to go out, you’ll never be free of her. She’s made up her mind to have you.  But I can stop her, right here, right now; there’ll never be a better chance.  The blood of a witch on the stones.’

‘You
can’t
!’ he said.  ‘We’ll find another way.’

‘There
is
no other way,’ she said.  ‘Let me do this … for you.’

‘Why?’ he said helplessly.  He pushed futilely against the barrier. 

Cindy smiled wistfully as she raised the knife to her neck.  ‘I love you,’ she said sadly, and struck. 

Blood splashed on the stones.  The barrier came down – too late.

Denny fell to his knees and howled.

* * *

Cindy awoke to find an anxious Denny bending over her. ‘Cindy?’ he was saying.  ‘Cindy, are you all right?  What happened?’ he lifted her gently onto her feet.  ‘Did you have an accident?’

Cindy stared blankly at him for a few seconds, then she rebooted her thoughts.  ‘I hate premonitions,’ she said mysteriously. 

Denny thought she must have hit her head.

Cindy replayed events as best she could in her head and then said.  ‘Where’s Jacky?’ 

I love you?

‘He’s fine, Jack took him home  What happened?’

‘Finvarra’s alive I saw him.’ 

He needs to know that part at least …  I
love
him?

‘He’s alive?’

‘Yes, and since I know you’re going to order me to come home with you and I’m going to agree because it’s so hard to argue with you, why don’t I tell everyone together about it when we get there?  I think we should teleport by the way.’

 
I
do
love him; I think I always have.  But it doesn’t mean I’m ready to
die
for him.  I’m not out of my mind!

‘Teleport?’ said Denny trying to keep up.  ‘What about …?’

‘They can find us
anyway
,’ said Cindy.  ‘Trust me on this.’