Bourn’s Edge (26 page)

“Is he?”

“She.” Cassie held her breath.

If Jenny’s eyes had gleamed when she realised Cassie’s partner was an artist, now they positively sparkled. “She?”

“Mm.”

“That’s going to break Harry’s heart. Have you noticed the way he ogles you?” Cassie’s eyes widened, and Jenny let out a hoot of laughter. “Just kidding.” Her expression became thoughtful. “We must get Tarian and Dewi together. An artist and a craftsman, they’re bound to have lots to talk about.”

“I don’t know whether that’s such a good idea. Tarian can be a bit of a recluse.”

Jenny waved a hand in dismissal. “Oh, Dewi gets like that sometimes too. It’s the artistic temperament. They need space to think and plenty of peace and quiet.”

“That’s true.”

“Anyway. It was only a suggestion. You’re in Bourn’s Edge, aren’t you? That’s just across the valley from us. Why don’t you both come round to dinner one night? Next Saturday, maybe? Or the one after? Dewi won’t mind.” She grinned. “Or if he does he’ll pretend he doesn’t.”

“That’s nice of you,” said Cassie. Though it was fun staying home with Tarian, it wouldn’t hurt to get out once in a while and to widen their circle of friends. “Can I let you know?”

“Of course.” It was Jenny’s turn to glance at her watch. “Oh dear. You’d better get going.” She locked the mobile’s door and threw Cassie the keys.

Cassie snatched them out of the air and headed round towards the cab. “See you later,” she called. “And I’ll mention to Tarian about dinner.”

THE CAR’S HEADLIGHTS illuminated a signpost.

“Nether Hopton, one mile,” read Tarian. “You’re getting good at this.”

Cassie grinned and changed down a gear. “I’m acquiring the librarian equivalent of the Knowledge. Soon people will be asking me: ‘What’s the quickest way from A to B?’ and I’ll be able to rattle off the answer, just like that.”

“The quickest way for the mobile library,” corrected Tarian. “There must be lots of other little lanes and back alleys you know nothing about.”

Cassie sniffed. “Pedant.”

Tarian hid a smile and peered out the window. To a mortal, the view across the valley would have been pitch black, but she could see the rooftop aerials and the shabby church spire of Bourn’s Edge as clear as day. Her heart sank as she contemplated the evening ahead. Cassie had been used to a much more active social life before she moved in with Tarian, so Tarian had agreed to make the effort. But she’d prefer a night’s boar hunting with her dogs to making small talk with Cassie’s new friends. Still, it might give her the opportunity to try her hand at pottery.

Lights twinkling up ahead drew her attention back to her surroundings, and moments later they reached their destination.

Nether Hopton was more spread out than Bourn’s Edge, Tarian saw, as they drove along the dimly lit High Street—probably because this side of the valley was less steep. The village was larger too, and centred around an oval expanse of rough grass with a small lopsided tree standing in the middle of it.

“That’s the common,” said Cassie, following her glance. “And that,” she pointed to a brightly-lit, white-washed building, “is the Raggedy Bush pub. I park the library in their car park.”

Tarian eyed the sign hanging above the pub’s front door—a bad rendition of a tree with coloured rags hanging from its branches. “Call that art?”

Cassie chuckled and slowed the car to a crawl, turning her head from side to side as she searched for the pottery. Tarian joined her.

There was no sign of “Price’s Pots,” only an antique shop, a boarded-up bookshop, a solicitor’s, a greengrocer’s, a hairdresser’s, a well-stocked charity shop, an art gallery—Tarian made a mental note to find out if they would be willing to sell her paintings—and a cramped sweetshop selling puff candy and postcards.

At the end of the High Street, Cassie turned round and retraced their route.

“Perhaps it’s
off
the High Street,” suggested Tarian when they had reached the other end of the village once more.

“Jenny would have said, wouldn’t she?” Cassie did a ragged three-point turn. The engine stalled and when she tried to restart it wouldn’t. “That’s all I need.” She thumped her palms on the steering wheel. “We’re going to be late.”

“Your friend won’t mind.” Tarian reached over and clasped Cassie’s hand, feeling her agitation and debating whether to cast a calming spell. “Why don’t we ring her? Or ask for directions?”

Cassie blew out a breath. “Sorry.” She gave Tarian’s hand an apologetic squeeze.

“It’s hardly your fault if they didn’t give you clear directions.”

Cassie’s forced smile became genuine. “It isn’t, is it?” She reclaimed her hand and tried to restart the engine. This time it worked. “Thank God for that.” She glanced at Tarian. “Okay. You win. Shall I stop at the pub and ask?”

Tarian nodded.

They were fortunate there was a space in the pub’s crowded car park. Cassie switched off the ignition and got out.

“Want me to come with you?” asked Tarian, getting out to stretch her legs.

Cassie shook her head. “Back in a tick,” she said, and hurried towards the Raggedy Bush’s entrance.

To pass the time Tarian crossed the road to the common and strolled across the rough grass towards the raggedy bush. Strips of cloth fluttered from branches armed with sharp black thorns. As she drew closer, she frowned. Something felt off about the tree. She circled it, eyes narrowed, senses extended. So focussed was she on the tree, she didn’t hear Cassie padding across the grass to join her until the last minute.

“Got it.”

She turned to find Cassie smiling and waving a scrap of paper at her. Cassie’s smile vanished as she registered Tarian’s expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s been tampered with.”

“What has? The tree?” Cassie cocked her head and squinted in the moonlight. “Looks all right to me.”

“It isn’t. Someone’s put a spell on it. Recently too, if I’m any judge.”

“What kind of spell?” asked Cassie.

“Let’s just say that the people who’ve tied rags to it will be getting the
opposite
of what they wished for.”

“What?” Cassie gaped at her. “Who would do such a thing?”

“Only another Fae could.”

“Another Fae?” Cassie looked around her and lowered her voice. “Is he watching us? Can you sense him?”

Tarian shook her head. “Whoever did this is long gone.”
Or knows how to cloak his presence
. She wished the dogs were with her; their noses would help to track the perpetrator. But they were tucked up in their baskets, dreaming of stags or boars.

“Can you lift the spell?”

“I think so,” began Tarian, “but—”

“What do you mean ‘but’? You
have
to lift it, Tarian. You can’t let people be cursed.”

“No argument from me,” said Tarian mildly. “I was
about
to say that I think it will take just as much power to reverse the curse’s effects, so I might as well do that.”

“Reverse it?” Cassie blinked at her. “So it becomes a real wishing tree, you mean?”

Tarian nodded and managed to brace herself before Cassie crushed her in an enthusiastic bear hug.

“Have I mentioned how much I love you,” came a muffled voice against her chest.

“Yes,” said Tarian, smiling. “But I don’t mind if you mention it again.”

Cassie stretched up and kissed her, then pulled back. Tarian arched an amused eyebrow at her before turning her attention to the tree once more.

She sorted through various spells that might suit and picked one. It was a difficult working, which left her tired, her head aching.

“All right?” Cassie rested a hand on her arm.

Tarian nodded. Already the spell’s backwash was receding. She felt suddenly ravenous. “Is your friend Jenny a good cook?”

“I’ve no idea.” Cassie hooked her arm through Tarian’s and urged her back towards the car.

“You mean you didn’t ask?” Tarian was appalled.

“It would have been rude.” Cassie gave her an amused glance. “Hey, I didn’t ask
you
if you could cook when you invited me to dinner, did I?”

Tarian sighed.

“Anyway, Dewi might be doing the cooking. I can’t remember.”

They reached the car, and Tarian glanced back towards the raggedy bush one last time before getting in. “I must ask your friends if they’ve seen a Fae on the common lately.”

Cassie finished fastening her safety belt. “More subtly than that I hope.” She turned the key in the ignition, and the engine roared into life. “We don’t want them to know you’re one too.”

“That goes without saying.”

“And while we’re on the subject,” Cassie backed out of the car park, “we need to get our story straight. Can you remember when and where we met?”

A memory surfaced of scarecrows toppled like ninepins outside Liz Hayward’s B & B, and of Cassie, eyes bright with curiosity, emerging from Liz’s front door. “At the Bourn’s Edge scarecrow contest, of course,” said Tarian.

“Oh, that’s right. I remember now.” Cassie hooted with laughter. “Can’t wait to tell Jenny.” She was still laughing when she turned the car off the High Street into the narrow lane they had missed before.

AS THE TAILLIGHTS faded into the night, the door of Eddy Spurrier’s cottage opened, and a man stepped out into the moonlight. It wasn’t Eddy. But then the cottage didn’t belong to him anymore. A “To Let” sign lay in the postage-stamp-sized front garden, awaiting collection, and the brand new poster tacked to the front window proclaimed: “Faith Healing by Corryn. Enquire Within” in bold red letters.

He strode across the common, the leather of his jacket and jeans creaking with each step. In front of the raggedy bush, he stopped and stood, hands on hips, eyes narrowed.

“Well, well,” he murmured, noting the changes that had been made to his spell. “This is unexpected, not to mention impudent. Meddling with another Fae’s affairs indeed!”

He started to trace a glyph, but let his hand drop, the spell unfinished. “But why repeat myself? Maybe there’s a different sort of entertainment to be had.” He tipped back his head and closed his eyes. Nostrils flared and his brow creased in thought. When his eyelids reopened, his eyes were glittering with recognition.

“Tarian. The last time we met, you were the victor.” He began to pace then stopped as a memory of something he had heard surfaced. “And it seems you’ve developed a fatal flaw at last. That’s handy.” He smiled. It wasn’t a pleasant smile. “Perhaps it’s time for a return bout.”

Once more, his lips and fingers moved. When the sparkling mote that was a tracking spell had sped off into the darkness after the vanished taillights, he headed back to his cottage. As he did so, his moon-cast shadow changed, becoming for a moment that of a giant spider. It was an affectation, a trick of light and shadow he liked to play—in the language of the Fae, Corryn also meant spider.

Chapter 3

When Cassie steered the mobile library into the Raggedy Bush’s car park, her regulars were waiting for her. Mrs. Norville scowled—her arthritis must be playing up again; Ian Cork blushed and flicked his hair out of his eyes; and Mrs. Sheldon, wearing hoop earrings this time, gave Cassie a welcoming wave.

Cassie’s smile, as she switched off the engine, owed nothing to those waiting. Her gaze had fallen on the little iridescent dish, containing coins for emergencies, blue-tacked to the top of the dashboard.

The previous Saturday, Jenny’s husband had taken an unexpected shine to Tarian. Tarian had assured Cassie she hadn’t enchanted him. And after dinner he’d been only too happy to show her around his studio. Of course, she had insisted on having a go at making something there and then, and with twinkling eyes Dewi had agreed. It wasn’t the evening either Cassie or Jenny had planned, but they poured themselves another drink and left their respective partners to it. In fact if Cassie hadn’t physically extracted a grumbling Tarian from Dewi’s studio at midnight, she would probably still be there.

The shallow dish was Tarian’s first attempt at ceramic pottery. Something had gone awry in the kiln, or so Dewi said, and it had ended up looking like something by Salvador Dali. Cassie hadn’t allowed her to throw it away, however. “I like the colours,” she’d protested, as she held the dish out of Tarian’s reach—not easy, given Tarian’s much longer arms. “Besides. It has sentimental value.” In the end Tarian had rolled her eyes and let Cassie keep it.

As she jumped down from the driver’s seat, slammed the door, and hurried around to the side of the library, keys at the ready, the world slowed. She blinked, but the effect didn’t go away. It was as though everything around her was in slow motion, an impression reinforced when a sparrow that had been pecking crumbs by the kerb took flight, its wings moving as if it were trying to fly through treacle. Even sounds had slowed, as though someone was playing a tape at the wrong speed.

Cassie was wondering, in growing dismay, if she was having some kind of fit, when a figure materialised in her path. Her heart pounded as she realised it was one of the Fae.

He was taller than Tarian by a head, and like her had inherited his race’s good looks. His hair was short and as black as jet, and, taken together with the black leather jacket and jeans, the overall impression was one of darkness.

Slightly slanted black eyes studied Cassie. She jutted her jaw and returned his gaze.

“What do you want?”

“Quiet.” Gloved fingers clicked, and she found she couldn’t speak. “Come.” Another click, and she found herself following him with as much control over her limbs as a puppet.

Not again!

The last time Cassie had been abducted in broad daylight, Einion had been acting on behalf of Queen Mab. This Fae was a different proposition, Cassie sensed. He was no one’s messenger boy, and whatever his intentions, they weren’t benign.

She remembered the raggedy bush, and her heart sank. This must be who had cursed it. And somehow, he had managed to hide from Tarian. At the thought of her, Cassie sent out a mental SOS, but she doubted it would carry all the way across the valley.