Aisha avoided her gaze and blushed. ‘I dunno,’ she muttered and turned away to help a woman who wanted to know which colour candle to buy for a protection spell. Faye waited for her to finish her conversation with the woman. Suspicion bloomed in her like a black rose.
‘Aish. Are yousureyou’re not into someone?’ Faye asked, her heart was beating hard. Aisha shook her head, but Faye wasn’t convinced. It must be Rav; itmustbe. She knew it was for the best, but it tortured her, nonetheless. ‘Come on. You can tell me. Wallflowers’ club, remember?’
She was being disingenuous, and she had betrayed Aisha in a sense – she was certainly no longer a wallflower – but she had to know. Faye had to stay away from Rav, but it would be so hard if he and Aisha started seeing each other. She knew she shouldn’t ask; that the knowledge would be like sticking her finger in a cut. But she couldn’t help herself.
Aisha smiled awkwardly and motioned Faye towards her.
‘I can’t say. It’s…it’s not the time,’ she whispered. ‘I think we need to talk. Later.’ She gave Faye an odd smile and moved away from her, behind the counter to serve more customers.
Faye turned away, saddened. She knew Aisha and Rav had more in common than she and Rav did. Aisha was beautiful, intelligent, she loved music as much as Rav. But Faye wanted Rav. So, where did that leave her?
34
On her foraging walk, Faye avoided Rav’s house by the sea, careful also to skirt the faerie path that ran alongside the house. That wasn’t why she was here; she was staying in the ordinary world for now.
In the distance, she could hear the sound of clanging as the festival stage was erected, up on the cliffs: Abercolme Rocks was near now, and the village had been busy with trucks and food vendors all week.
She followed her usual path down to the beach. Some things could be collected here: small shells to include in the ready-made spell bags she sold alongside the Mistress of Magic incense. Small spells could still be remarkably effective. Feathers, too; she picked up a few small grey feathers belonging to sea birds, and one black crow’s feather.
She walked along the beach, filling a bag with sea buckthorn berries, intending to dry some for incense and make some into the tart jam she liked. She filled another bag with lovage and one with orache, which was better than spinach to eat. Pine was everywhere: she used it in incenses for purification and divination. Faye could never forage without rememberingGrandmother – the way she taught Faye which plants could be eaten; which berries could be dried and burned, like hawthorn and rosehip; which looked tasty but were poisonous, like the red yew berries that covered the trees in the churchyard so prettily every year. For an hour or more, Faye lost herself in her foraging, taking pleasure in the small finds along the familiar ways she had trod since girlhood.
As evening came, she turned and followed the coast path back to Black Sands. The pull of faerie was strong now; more insistent than it had been before. Faye recognised the familiar call in her blood as her gaze settled on the faerie pathway outside Rav’s house again, and, clearer than before, she found she could see the fae twisting and running along it in their chaotic way.
In the old faerie stories, humans sometimes had their eyelids anointed with a faerie balm that meant they could see faeries in the ordinary world, but this seldom turned out to be a good thing. Faye remembered one story where a cunning woman had taken the balm and put it on her eyes herself rather than the faeries doing it. She had delighted in being able to see the faeries play their tricks on the unknowing humans, until the fae realised she could see what they were doing and struck her blind.
Faye could see the point of the story now. So far, it had felt like a curse to be half faerie.
‘I thought you’d be at the shop.’ Rav’s voice broke into her thoughts, and she looked up, startled.
‘Oh. Hi.’
There was an uncomfortable silence.
‘Well, nice to see you’re still alive, anyway…’ He looked at her expectantly.
‘I’m alive,’ she said slowly. ‘I…I wanted to see you, but…’ How was she going to explain?
‘But what?’ His tone was cold. Faye could feel his hurt, and her heart twisted with sorrow.
‘I do want to see you. It’s just been…’ She sighed, not knowing what to say.
‘You don’t have to explain.’ He refused to meet her eyes. ‘I thought we had something, but I understand if you don’t feel the same way.’
‘We do. We did. There’s a connection here, between us, Rav. But…’ She bit her lip and looked away, unsure what to say.
There were some black clouds coming in, far off on the horizon. Rav nodded to them. ‘Black horses coming. Better head in,’ he said.
‘That’s a strange expression.’ She was grateful for the change of subject; she sensed that he wanted to stay, to talk to her, and that was something.
‘Oh. Is it? My mum used to say it about a storm. Like white horses in the sea.’ He kicked at the sand.
‘I haven’t heard it.’ She laid her hand on his arm. ‘Look. Can we talk?’
‘Sure.’ Rav met her eyes with a direct but kind stare; he didn’t make any move to either remove her hand or put his own hand on top of hers.
‘Okay. So…I’m sorry. About not answering your texts, about being distant. There is a reason, but it’s…it’s hard to explain.’
‘What are we going to talk about if you can’t explain anything?’ He shrugged and pulled his arm away from her hand. ‘Seems to me that you think you want to talk, but I don’t think you do. Do you know how weird it was for me to see you just disappear like that? It was terrifying. No explanation of what happened. It’s been torturing me. I can’t sleep. I feel like I’m going mad.’
