Faye and Annie had spent hours here as teens, asking all manner of boons from the sea and the wind and the air: to pass their exams, to get people to like them, to get the new boots they’d had their eye on in the one village shoe shop.
She closed her eyes and followed the sparkling path. She was no longer cold, and she took off her gloves and coat, letting them fall to the ground.
The fae were around her again, in varying sizes and colours and types. The butterfly fae fluttered past, moonlight glimmering on their wings. The quarter moon was still there and the sea rippled calmly to her left. There was a distant sound of hoofbeats on grass, and a pleasurable thrumming rhythm that vibrated up from the faerie earth into her body.
This time, she followed the path to the top of the hill where the golden light shone as it had before. And when she reached the top, she took a breath of wonder.
Before her, far out at sea, was a huge golden castle, ringed by a vast green maze. In reality, if you stood on Black Sands Beach and looked out, it was onto the Firth of Forth that ran into the North Sea; there was a small island off the coast that monks had once lived on, and before that, druids.
But now there was no island: instead, tall towers plunged upward through the dark Fife sea, looking as if they were formed of golden seawater. The maze that led to it was impossible. There was no way that such a strangely manicured puzzle could justbethere, dotted with flower gardens, fountains and strange golden statues. And yet it was there, made of a kind of hedge which ran at head height. Faye could see many small faeries scurrying about in it, the hedge towering above them. It seemed that the maze was the only way to the castle, and it seemed to reach on forever.
The air was scented. Faye could pick out rose, jasmine and lavender. She remembered the smell of roses when she had made love with Rav on the beach. It was the same smell, the same perfumed air.
Faye approached the entrance to the maze. In front of her, floating into the maze opening, was a beautiful fae woman about Faye’s height. She was wearing a green skirt but was naked from the waist up, and her golden hair floated down her shoulders like a cloak. Yet, when her skirt swished to one side, Faye saw she had black goat legs underneath.
‘Through the maze, this and there, the faerie castle is here. Beware!
Beware, humans, ere time is lost! Beware the years that the faerie realm cost!
Through the maze, this and there, the faerie castle is here. Beware!’
Two little men with beards – rather like the gnomes Faye had in the garden behind the shop – sang the song as she trod past. One looked up and nodded at her.
‘Blessings, miss. Ready to try your luck in the faerie maze?’ He chuckled rather unpleasantly. ‘Most humans don’t come back if they go in. But there’s fine food and dancing to be had. Don’t be shy, little miss, in you go!’ And he reached out a little hand and tickled the back of her calf so that she leaped forward.
‘Hey!’ she cried, not sure what to do. She didn’t want to get lost, wherever she was. Moddie had read enough faerie stories to the young Faye for her to know that getting lost in the realm of the fae was no laughing matter. The realm of the fae was dangerous – faeries were capricious, changeable; they might grant your wishes or help you around the house, or they might try and drown you, steal from you or hurt you in a thousand little ways.
And of course there were the tales of unlucky villagers who, on moonlit evenings, had come across a faerie ring of toadstools or a faerie mound – the ones that the farmers preserved in the middle of their fields so as not to upset the Good Folk. They were transported into the land of the fae where they might have been treated well or badly, but when they returned, it was many years later and their family had all died of old age and no one knew them.
She stepped back, but the other little gnome-man followed her and looked up into her face.
‘No, no! She’s not one of them. She’ssidhe-leth. Let her pass,’ he said, and bowed deeply from the waist. ‘Many apologies, madam. We have not seen your like for many years.’
Faye was confused.
‘But I don’t want to be lost here. It was a mistake. I’m going.’ She turned away and followed her footsteps back to the beach, though she really didn’t want to at all. Everything in her being sang out for the faerie castle; she wanted so much to go, to be in it. It was more than wanting, in fact – it was a need, a sense that it was part of her.
‘You will not be lost, madam. You can pass.’ The gnome bowed again. ‘You will know the way.’
Faye turned again and looked at the castle before her; it seemed to loom even more golden and bright against the strange sky. Though it had the same quarter moon as above the beach, itwas neither day nor night but a strange pink-orange in between, like sunset or sunrise.
She wanted to, but she was afraid.
Then, as she looked into the maze, at the end of the first turn, she saw Moddie.
14
Without thinking, Faye ran forward.
‘Moddie!’ she cried; she hadn’t called herMumsince she was small. Moddie had preferred her own name; she’d been a young mother, only twenty-one when she’d had Faye. When Faye was in her teens, they had been more like sisters.
Moddie’s hair was loose and curled and reached her waist in long ringlets. She wore a white dress with a full skirt and long, bell-shaped sleeves. Her feet were bare, and she wore a golden circlet on her head. She beckoned to Faye, smiling, then turned a corner.
Faye ran into the maze and turned left as Moddie had. The hedge of the maze wall was fragrant – Faye thought she smelled eucalyptus or bay – and brushed against her legs as she ran.
‘Moddie! Wait!’ she cried again, but her mother moved fast through the turns and twists, not looking back. Faye followed as best she could, being careful not to crush the small faeries as she passed them: ladybirds the size of cats; leather-apron-wearing, bearded goblins who carried metal tools; more diaphanous, beautiful fae who seemed to float by without touching the earth. They were all heading for the castle, and there was an excitementamong them that Faye picked up on. As she grew nearer, her heart beat faster; she felt a pleasant sense of anticipation, though she didn’t know why.
Will I be lost?she wondered, but she felt that Moddie wouldn’t lead her astray. There was that strange sense of familiarity again, though she didn’t understand how that could be. And the more she breathed in the strange faerie air, the more a kind of lassitude entered her veins. She felt the same light-headedness and pleasure at everything as she would after two glasses of wine.
