good choice.’
‘So then, you’re not exactly on her side either?’ said Tamar.’
‘If it came right down to it … no I suppose not. We’ve been estranged for a long time.’ He sighed. ‘She always gets it wrong,’ he said obscurely. ‘No patience. The time is not yet.’ He seemed to be talking to himself. Tamar noted his words carefully – she would work out what they meant later. For example, what did he mean estranged ?
‘Tell us about the Key Stones,’ she said.
‘Witches put up the stones to guard the portal after she went through.’ Finvarra told them. ‘She wasn’t exactly banished you see, just prevented from coming back through. In those days, before the stones were raised, the door was always open, and they came through whenever they wanted, but their court was in the Faerie realm. But she went too far you see, she wanted to rule, tried to marry the King, had him right under her thumb. They do that you see. Folk see them the way they want them to. Except witches and druids – they see everything the way it really is. Anyway, it was a reign of terror. People locked their doors and hid under the bed with a handy piece of iron. Horseshoes nailed to the door, that kind of thing. Happy days,’ he smiled reminiscently.
Tamar gave him a look. He coughed self-consciously
‘Ahem! Anyway a bunch of witches decided enough was enough, so they raised the stones one Winter Solstice night when most of the Sidhe were feasting at court.’
‘But not all of them?’
Finvarra looked surprised. ‘No there were some stragglers,’ he admitted. ‘How did you know that?’
Tamar shrugged. ‘Call it a hunch,’ she said looking hard at Finvarra. He did not flinch.
‘The witches knew they wouldn’t live forever,’ he continued, ‘so they made a deal with me to guard the stones.’
‘Why did you agree?’ asked Stiles.
A cunning look crept over the king’s face. ‘It was me or her,’ he said. ‘Besides, it’s been so peaceful without her.’
‘What do you mean, it was you or her?’ said Stiles. ‘Did the witches threaten you?’
‘No,’ said Tamar. ‘That’s not what he meant.’
‘He’s not telling us everything,’ she thought, ‘not by a long shot. – Like who the hell he really is’.
‘I should get after your friend before it’s too late,’ said Finvarra, abruptly cutting off this line of speculation
She’s set up Court over there,’ he pointed approximately east according to the setting sun (Stiles’s compass was now merely decoration) ‘about five leagues as the buzzard flies. I should get a move on if I were you.’
Tamar merely stared at him until he began to shift uncomfortably.
‘Well, I’ll just get out of your way …’ he began.
‘How do we send her back?’ said Stiles baldly.
‘You can’t.’ said Finvarra. ‘You’ll have to kill her.’
‘Okay,’ said Tamar calmly. ‘How do we do that?’
‘You can’t expect me to tell you that,’ objected Finvarra. What am I, an idiot?’
‘What kills her, kills you too?’ said Tamar. She was fishing here, but she was almost certain she was right.
‘I never said that.’
‘But it’s obvious,’ put in Stiles. Who had no idea where she was going with this but was backing her up valiantly anyway.
‘Iron,’ added Tamar in a very low voice.
Finvarra gave in. ‘Oh, all right ,’ he said. ‘I suppose it’s better than being dead. But if you want to send her back, you’ll have to do it before she binds herself to the land.’
‘Spill it,’ commanded Tamar. ‘ All of it.’
* * *
Witches always see things exactly as they are.
Of course, they do not always necessarily understand what they are seeing. This was particularly true of Cindy, who had always been a bit blonde.
When Hecaté had performed the chant and exposed the changeling, Cindy’s reaction had been a disappointing ‘So what?’
Even Jacky had looked
‘So then, you’re not exactly on her side either?’ said Tamar.’
‘If it came right down to it … no I suppose not. We’ve been estranged for a long time.’ He sighed. ‘She always gets it wrong,’ he said obscurely. ‘No patience. The time is not yet.’ He seemed to be talking to himself. Tamar noted his words carefully – she would work out what they meant later. For example, what did he mean estranged ?
‘Tell us about the Key Stones,’ she said.
‘Witches put up the stones to guard the portal after she went through.’ Finvarra told them. ‘She wasn’t exactly banished you see, just prevented from coming back through. In those days, before the stones were raised, the door was always open, and they came through whenever they wanted, but their court was in the Faerie realm. But she went too far you see, she wanted to rule, tried to marry the King, had him right under her thumb. They do that you see. Folk see them the way they want them to. Except witches and druids – they see everything the way it really is. Anyway, it was a reign of terror. People locked their doors and hid under the bed with a handy piece of iron. Horseshoes nailed to the door, that kind of thing. Happy days,’ he smiled reminiscently.
Tamar gave him a look. He coughed self-consciously
‘Ahem! Anyway a bunch of witches decided enough was enough, so they raised the stones one Winter Solstice night when most of the Sidhe were feasting at court.’
‘But not all of them?’
Finvarra looked surprised. ‘No there were some stragglers,’ he admitted. ‘How did you know that?’
Tamar shrugged. ‘Call it a hunch,’ she said looking hard at Finvarra. He did not flinch.
‘The witches knew they wouldn’t live forever,’ he continued, ‘so they made a deal with me to guard the stones.’
‘Why did you agree?’ asked Stiles.
A cunning look crept over the king’s face. ‘It was me or her,’ he said. ‘Besides, it’s been so peaceful without her.’
‘What do you mean, it was you or her?’ said Stiles. ‘Did the witches threaten you?’
‘No,’ said Tamar. ‘That’s not what he meant.’
‘He’s not telling us everything,’ she thought, ‘not by a long shot. – Like who the hell he really is’.
‘I should get after your friend before it’s too late,’ said Finvarra, abruptly cutting off this line of speculation
She’s set up Court over there,’ he pointed approximately east according to the setting sun (Stiles’s compass was now merely decoration) ‘about five leagues as the buzzard flies. I should get a move on if I were you.’
Tamar merely stared at him until he began to shift uncomfortably.
‘Well, I’ll just get out of your way …’ he began.
‘How do we send her back?’ said Stiles baldly.
‘You can’t.’ said Finvarra. ‘You’ll have to kill her.’
‘Okay,’ said Tamar calmly. ‘How do we do that?’
‘You can’t expect me to tell you that,’ objected Finvarra. What am I, an idiot?’
‘What kills her, kills you too?’ said Tamar. She was fishing here, but she was almost certain she was right.
‘I never said that.’
‘But it’s obvious,’ put in Stiles. Who had no idea where she was going with this but was backing her up valiantly anyway.
‘Iron,’ added Tamar in a very low voice.
Finvarra gave in. ‘Oh, all right ,’ he said. ‘I suppose it’s better than being dead. But if you want to send her back, you’ll have to do it before she binds herself to the land.’
‘Spill it,’ commanded Tamar. ‘ All of it.’
* * *
Witches always see things exactly as they are.
Of course, they do not always necessarily understand what they are seeing. This was particularly true of Cindy, who had always been a bit blonde.
When Hecaté had performed the chant and exposed the changeling, Cindy’s reaction had been a disappointing ‘So what?’
Even Jacky had looked
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