‘Does that mean yes or no?’
‘It means that is where he is.’
Faye felt as though Morgana’s every answer was a stream of mystery and obstruction.
‘You’re not telling me anything. And what do I do next, anyway? Stay here forever?’
‘You cannot stay here for long. But I can protect you in the human world.’ A soft sensation of pins and needles had started in Faye’s toes, and she wiggled one set carefully. Her body was awakening. Morgana couldn’t keep her from her baby much longer.
Morgana turned the cold cloth on the forehead over. ‘Every one of the faerie realms seeks this child. I will protect you both until he becomes old enough to walk into his power.’
‘How?’ Faye stared at the woven reed cradle. How could anyone so small and helpless hold such power over the entire faerie realm?
‘How is not your concern.’ Morgana sighed.
‘And Finn? Will he…will he come back?’ Faye’s emotions were a jumble. Part of her was elated that Finn had been captured. He had caused Aisha’s death and the deaths of other humans. Finn was amoral, dangerous, selfish. But a deep, instinctive part of her grieved for him. Even if he wasn’t the father. He had been her lover, and – indirectly – he had saved her child on the beach.
‘It is unclear,’ Morgana said as a wave of exhaustion overtook Faye. She felt her eyes closing and Morgana’s gentle touch lifting the cloth away. ‘But I have never known Finn Beatha to lose his grip on the things he wants. He wants you, and he will want your child.’
The faerie queen stood up and went to the crib. Faye watched her fearfully, dread rising in her gut as Morgana bent over and reached her black, scaly long-fingered hands into it.
‘Please don’t hurt him.’ Faye felt the tears come again; she was helpless. She still couldn’t move.
‘I would not hurt him,’ Morgana said reprovingly as she laid the swaddled baby in Faye’s outstretched arms at last.
‘Oh, thank goodness.’ Faye held the baby to her, and relief flooded her still-paralysed body.
‘He will need a name before long,’ Morgana warned. ‘It is unlucky to be without a name, especially in the faerie realms.’
EPILOGUE
It was the baby’s name day, and Faye had taken him for a walk in the sling she’d finally worked out how to use, hoping to get him to have a nap before everyone arrived for the garden party she and Gabriel had planned for the afternoon. Gabriel had ushered her out of the shop before turning theOpensign toClosed; he was setting up the buffet and putting up the decorations while she was gone.
As Faye walked through the village, people stopped her to coo over the baby and ask how he was getting on or how she was feeling – some even asked after Gabriel, who was becoming quite the celebrity in Abercolme.
Having baby Alasdair had apparently changed Faye in the eyes of the Abercolme villagers: from suspicious witch to acceptable mother. Faye realised in speaking to some of her neighbours – some that she hadn’t exchanged words with for years – that she’d suddenly been admitted into a club she’d never known existed. As a parent, she now had something in common with every other parent on the planet.
Gabriel would never be totally free from the grip of Murias. Faye had no idea how he had managed to evade Levantiana’sgrasp at the beach that day, but she suspected Morgana had a hand in protecting him. Some of his old sparkle had returned. He had started talking about returning to London and to Fortune’s, but he wasn’t in a hurry. He pretended that he was staying for Faye, to help her with the baby, which may have been partly true – Gabriel was surprisingly good with Alasdair and could often get him to sleep when Faye couldn’t.
The Abercolme air had brought colour back to Gabriel’s cheeks, and he was beginning to sleep better. Whole weeks passed when there were no nightmares at all. He had offered to be gone for the name day, suggesting that no one wanted a recovering addict at a party, but Faye had told him off. He was family now.
Annie’s busy filming schedule atCoven of Lovehad an autumn break, and she and Susie were coming to stay. Faye had also invited Ruby and some of her friends from the village: Muriel from the bakery was bringing a huge cake she’d made for Alasdair, and the minister had offered to do the naming ceremony, much to Faye’s surprise and insistence that it wasn’t a christening. But Faye thought it would be nice to have everyone together in the old Morgan house. It would feel like the house had a family again, and Faye needed family. So did Alasdair.
The autumn sun glowed golden orange on Faye’s auburn curls as she walked. She shielded Alasdair’s face from it with her hand, but relished its warmth on her shoulders. Following one of the small roads that led to the beach, she walked under the yellow, gold and russet leaves that fell from the trees like autumn confetti.
After passing out in the Crystal Castle, Faye had awoken in her own bed with Alasdair lying on her chest. Both of them had been bathed, dressed and cared for. She’d completely healed from the birth and felt strong and clear-headed. Alasdair seemednone the worse for being delivered on a beach and fed happily when she breastfed him.
There was no other message or sign from Morgana other than Faye and the baby were well, and nothing bad had happened to them. However she was protecting Faye and Alasdair from the faerie queens, Morgana’s magic seemed to be working. There was no hint of threat or danger anywhere; Faye had no dreams, sudden visions or communications that suggested Levantiana or Moronoe could reach her. She was so busy, and so preoccupied with Alasdair, that she had little time to worry about it. For the moment, as long as they were safe, that was enough.
Black Sands Beach spread out in front of Faye; the horizon shone gold with the afternoon sun. There was no one else there, as ever. She walked to the tide, kicked off her sandals and stood in the cold water. It seemed a different place to the beach where the queens had warred over her; where she’d crouched and prayed for help, knocked over by pain. But itwasthe same place, and Faye bent her head respectfully to the water and the sand. These lines between the elements were the places of magic, and she’d never forget their power.
Alasdair squawked a little; he would only go off to sleep with constant movement and often grew impatient when she stood still, so Faye walked along the tide-line, stopping short of the house that was once Rav’s. She was surprised to see aSOLDsign outside it. Her thoughts turned to him, and the sonogram picture she’d seen at his flat. Mallory was pregnant, but was it Rav’s baby, or Lyr’s? And if it was Lyr’s child, would it spend its life in Falias, being trained to be Luathas’s expendable double, or would Lyr have another fate planned for it?
Faye hoped, for Mallory’s sake, that the baby was Rav’s. They could have a normal life together in that case, and the baby could grow up a normal child. Faye might have disliked Mallory, butshe knew the pain of having your baby stolen by the fae – even if, in her case, it had only seemed that way for a short while – and she wouldn’t wish it on anyone. She realised that she wished them well. Perhaps they could be happy together.
She turned away from that side of the beach and strode through the rocks just before the point where grass met sand, humming a lullaby to Alasdair.Please sleep, little one, she crooned to him.Sleep, my darling.Alasdair’s eyes started to flutter closed.
Thank goodness, she thought, retracing her steps along the beach. If she kept going for another forty minutes or so, that would be enough to get the baby through another couple of hours of a party. She couldn’t wait to see Annie and Ruby, and she knew it would be good for Gabriel, too.
