Faery Born (Book One in the War Faery Trilogy) (3 page)

BOOK: Faery Born (Book One in the War Faery Trilogy)
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‘A dog?’ Sabina asked me for the fifth time.

‘You’re not going to stop are you?’

‘I haven’t been this shocked since Wally Wangleton pulled his pants down and showed us his privates.’

‘Yes, well, we were
all
pretty speechless after that.’ I paused and looked around the room. Already a few other students from Eynsford College had drifted in. ‘What’s wrong with a dog?’

I knew exactly what was wrong with a dog, but had convinced myself on the way to the Puffin’ Dragon that if I owned the whole my-familiar-is-a-dog thing, that everyone else would accept it too. It was bad enough that most of the pub’s patrons kept shooting sneaky glances at Scruffy. The fact that my best friend was having issues with it did not bode well.

‘It’s just not done.’

‘Will you leave it alone.’

Picking up on my mood, she shut up about the dog thing and settled back into her chair. ‘There’s something different about you,’ she finally said.

‘I did my hair.’

‘Not that.’

‘I have make-up on.’

‘Nope.’

‘New dress?’

‘Seen it.’ She stared at me intently.

Scruffy, who had been off sniffing table legs and couches, sauntered back and jumped onto my lap. Phantom hissed and bared his teeth.

‘Ahuh,’ said Sabby. ‘You’re happy.’

‘I’m always happy.’

‘You’re normally stressed, or worried, or nervous.’

‘Yes, well, now I have Scruffy. I don’t need to worry any more.’

‘What? So that’s it? All your troubles are over?’

‘Ahuh,’ I said.

‘Without even going into the whole dog thing…,’ I shot her a warning glance, and she stuck her tongue out before continuing, ‘where are you going to college? What are you going to study? What do you want to do with your life?’

‘Can’t you just let me be happy?’

‘Sorry.’ She slouched back on the couch and sucked on a piece of her curly, red hair. ‘It’s just unnatural.’

‘Me being happy is unnatural?’

‘No, you
not
being worried about something is. It makes me nervous.’

We paused while our drinks were delivered to the table. I took a sip of mine and looked over at Sabby. She was drinking a dark, brown cocktail.

‘What’s that?’ I asked.

‘Troll Juice.’

‘Sounds gross.’

‘It’s delicious,’ she said. ‘Want some?’

‘No thanks. I’ll stick to my Faery Water.’

The bar was beginning to fill up, most of the seats taken by students celebrating the end of school. A faint buzz of conversation could be heard over the music.

‘What are you going to do now?’ Sabina asked.

‘You’re not going to leave this alone are you?’

The front door of the bar slammed and the conversation buzz died down. Isgranelda pushed through the crowd to the bar, carrying Gretchen and Aphrode in her wake. Isgranelda was as tall and muscly as the other two were short and willowy. Anyone who protested at her pushing in was met with a stare filled with such vehemence that their protestations were wiped clear out of their head. She was one scary witch.

I slipped lower into my chair, hoping they wouldn’t notice us.

‘Of course you need to find out where your talent lies,’ Sabina continued, seemingly oblivious to Isgranelda’s entry.

I found myself wishing that invisibility was within the scope of a witch’s talents. Now would be a good time to be invisible.

‘And then think about what occupations fit into that talent.’

I could hear movement coming in our direction. Oh
please
don’t let them see me.

‘And then you need to…’ She paused and looked over my shoulder, her face hardening at what she saw. ‘You got a problem?’ she asked.

‘You’re in our seats.’ I didn’t even need to look to know who was talking. I’d recognise Isgranelda’s guttural accent anywhere.

Sabby’s face took on a comical expression. ‘Really? These seats are yours? Did someone steal them from your house?’

I loved Sabina with my whole heart, but sometimes I wished she weren’t so brave. Either that, or that I was as brave as she was. It’s hard to be brave though when you know someone can tie you up in knots with a flick of her wand.

‘You’ve got a smart mouth,’ Isgranelda growled.

‘I’ve got a smart everything,’ Sabby replied.

As if on its own, Sabina’s Troll Juice floated into the air to hover over her.

‘Don’t you dare,’ she gasped, trying to grab it.

The glass darted to the side and tipped so that the brown muck flowed over her head and down her black, silk dress. Pushing her wet hair out of her face, she glared at Isgranelda with fierce, green eyes. She flicked her wand towards the other woman so quickly I would have missed the movement if I hadn’t been expecting it.

A whip cracked and Isgranelda grunted. ‘You little bitch,’ she hissed.

Without even thinking, I turned towards her. ‘Don’t call her that.’

‘What are you going to do about it?’

Very good question. What was I going to do about it? What I would normally have done was slipped quietly out of the pub, but tonight I didn’t feel like doing that. Tonight my blood boiled and beat within my vessels and I wanted some payback.

I stood and turned to face her. I was easily as tall as she was and I met her glare with all my anger. I had hoped that would have been enough to dissuade her from bullying us, but she was as mean as she looked.

She arched an eyebrow and suddenly my left arm was twisted painfully behind my back. I gasped and rose up on my tiptoes, trying to relieve the pressure. Scruffy let out a growl and leapt off his seat.

I heard a whip crack again and Isgranelda jerked in pain. A thin line of blood appeared on her cheek.

‘Next time it will be your eyes.’ Sabina’s voice was cold and hard.

My arm released and Isgranelda took a step back. She looked at me for a long second and then said, ‘Till tomorrow.’

I waited until the three of them had left the pub before sinking back onto my chair. My hands were shaking and my knees felt weak. What had gotten into me?

‘Well,’ Sabby pushed back her slimy hair, ‘that went well.’

‘No thanks to me,’ I said.

‘What do you think she meant by that?’

I had no idea, but Isgranelda’s ‘till tomorrow’ had sent a chill down my spine. I had thought I was done with them now that school had finished.

‘I need a shower.’ Sabby grabbed her bag and stood up.

‘You may need two.’ I followed her to the front door of the pub, hoping Isgranelda had already cleared the area. There was no sign of them as we made our way to Sabby’s car.

I waited while she rummaged through the boot, finally pulling out a plastic-backed picnic blanket. She spread it on the driver’s seat before she hopped in. ‘What are you doing tomorrow?’ she asked me.

‘Shopping, then fencing.’ I pulled a face. I hated spending time in the shopping centre but I really had to get some things for Scruffy. Namely, shampoo. Plus, I still didn’t have a dress for my party.

‘Phooey,’ Sabby said. ‘I promised Mum I’d help her at work tomorrow.’ Sabby made up for my lack of shopping enthusiasm tenfold.

We were silent for the rest of the drive home, and I was pleased when I found both Mum and Grams were out. I didn’t feel like talking – not about the evening or my plans for life. All I felt like doing was hopping into bed and forgetting about the world for a while.

3
En Garde

Things had not gone well at the pet store; a combination of the assistant not believing Scruffy was my familiar and me trying to prove I was a witch. I’d had to enlist the aid of another witch to get a bag of dog food off the ceiling.

In the end I’d grabbed a fire-engine-red collar, some shampoo, a bed, and a bag of dog food, without stopping to compare products or prices.

The shopping spree had gone downhill from there.
I
knew that I was too tall, too thin and had no boobs to speak of. I didn’t need it being continuously pointed out to me by clothes designers and shop assistants. With only seven days to go to my party I had come home empty-handed.

No-one was home when I got back. Mum was in at the Weekly Witching News submitting a column on ridding your house of spiders, and goodness knows where Grams was. Probably down at the Toasted Toadstool Lodge regaling her friends with details of the naughtier parts of last night’s date with Sir Lionel Heartfelt. That reminded me that I had to go to work after fencing and I raced up to my room to grab my uniform.

Sabby’s face was floating in my bedroom mirror when I entered. Dubiously, I pulled my wand out of my hair and approached it; I’d never attempted reflective surface communications before. It wasn’t a difficult spell, but it allowed you to talk over long distances. You could project yourself into any reflective surface at your desired destination but could not see anything until the spell was activated.

I pointed my wand at the mirror and said, ‘Speakius clearius.’ Her face, which had been lifeless, immediately became animated.

‘Oh good, you’re home,’ she said.

‘Just heading out to fencing,’ I informed her.

‘Oh buzznuckle, I’m dying to hear about your dress.’

‘I didn’t get one.’

‘Seriously? It’s only a week till your party.’

I groaned and pulled a face at her. ‘Everything looks like a sack on me.’ I stared enviously at her curves.

‘Do you want me to go shopping with you tonight?’

‘I’m working tonight.’ Even though I knew I needed to find a dress, I was secretly relieved I had a reason not to go. I’d been demoralised enough for one day already. ‘Better go, I’m running late for fencing.’

She pouted and then blew me a kiss. I lifted my wand and said, ‘Bye. Clearius communius.’ Her beautiful face disappeared, leaving me staring at my sweaty one. Even for July it was warm.

I wound the car windows down and turned the radio up, enjoying the warm summer breeze ruffling my hair.

I grabbed my bag and hurried in to change. Most of the others were already waiting when I emerged. I ran my eye along them looking for my friend Thomas, and that was when I saw her.

Isgranelda stood off to the side, a sour look on her face as she ran a finger over the point of her weapon. She pulled her finger away, squeezing the tip till a drop of blood welled.

What was she doing there? Was she
trying
to ruin my life?

‘All right everybody.’ Henry Lipton, our fencing teacher, moved to the middle of the room. ‘Gather round.’

Thomas stood beside me as we gathered into a group around Henry. ‘You got a dog?’ he asked.

‘I got a familiar.’

He stared at Scruffy for a few seconds. ‘Cool.’

I could feel Isgranelda’s gaze from the opposite side of the circle. Normally that would have made me nervous but suddenly I didn’t care. I was sick of being bullied. I was sick of being scared. I met her eyes and gave her a small, tight smile. Her eyes narrowed in response as she examined me.

‘Today we are going to practise all-combat fencing,’ Henry said.

Some of the students around the circle let out a groan. All-combat fencing – where anything was allowed – could be violent. There were often injuries that required a trip to the Broken Bone Section of the hospital. Even though the medics there could heal you straight away, it didn’t take away from the fact that the initial injury, and the healing, were painful.

‘Who’d like to go first?’ He looked around for a volunteer.

‘I will.’ I stepped forward and looked at Isgranelda, raising an eyebrow in a silent dare.

‘Very good Isadora. Who wants to challenge her?’ Henry asked.

‘I will,’ Isgranelda growled, wrenching her weapon from its guard. ‘Okay?’ she asked, holding it up for me to view.

She held an epee – a slim, flexible sword. I preferred the sabre, which could be used for cutting as well as thrusting, but I had issued the challenge and couldn’t back out now.

‘Sure,’ I said, aiming for nonchalance. Thomas handed me his epee, picked up Scruffy, and joined the rest of the students backing away from us. It wasn’t uncommon for an onlooker to suffer collateral damage when all-combat fencing became fierce.

‘Izzy.’ I could hear Thomas whispering from behind me. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Standing up for myself,’ I hissed back.

Truth be told, I didn’t know what had gotten into me. All I knew was that I wanted to beat her so badly I could taste it. I could hear my blood thrumming through my veins but I felt strangely calm.

‘To the death?’ she asked.

‘Of course,’ I said, shrugging.

Now before you freak out, let me explain. To the death didn’t mean that one of us was going to die. It meant that we didn’t want to score points for successful touches. We wanted to fight until one of us had the other in a position that would have resulted in their death, if not for the impotent nature of our weapons. It meant we wanted to fight hard and we wanted to fight dirty. It wasn’t something I normally looked forward to.

We moved over to the fighting mat amongst a haze of students’ whispers. Isgranelda flexed her arms and rolled her shoulders. I gulped as I stared at her. I hadn’t noticed how muscly she was before.

Henry rubbed his hands together and said, ‘Excellent. Fight hard and fight clean.’

Yeah right.

Looking for the easy kill, Isgranelda launched herself through the air. I dodged to the side, felt her blade whiz past my head, and then, as her momentum carried her past me, I kicked her in the back. She turned and launched another attack. I backed steadily away from her as I parried her blows.

Left, left, right. Left, right, right. Left, right, left.

On her next right, I dived towards her, rolling beneath her blade and sweeping her legs out from under her as I went past. I bounced lightly to my feet and waited for her to gain hers. She was fuming.

‘Don’t fight mad,’ Henry called out.

She ignored him, letting out an almighty roar as she attacked. I caught her blade on mine and deflected it; turning slightly at the last second to kick her in the stomach while she was still off balance. She growled and swept her weapon through a flurry of motion.

I moved in time with her, breathing steadily as I defended myself. It was as if she made every move a second after I had realised she was going to do it. She was working faster and faster, swinging and slashing while I weaved and parried. I felt like we were dancing to a tune that only we could hear.

She made a desperate thrust at my neck and I slipped sideways and around to her back, bringing the tip of my weapon up towards her spine. Before I could claim the win, she whipped around, dodging to the side and bringing her blade low to strike my legs. Without thinking, I jumped into the air, flipping through a somersault to land back on my feet. A triumphant smile raced across her face – gone so fast I wondered if I had imagined it.

I had let her take the lead for too long. It was my turn to attack. I flowed towards her, my blade whistling through the air. She blocked each of my moves. We parried and struck, dodging and weaving till our limbs were a blur. The triumphant smile back on her face, she met me blow for blow. I could feel new strength flowing into my muscles, new skill imbedding into my mind. But I didn’t stop to think about what was happening.

She thrust toward my throat and I cartwheeled backwards, kicking her hard in the stomach as I went. She should have been recovering from that kick. She should have been too winded to speak, let alone move, but the moment I was upright I could feel the tip of her epee pressed against the side of my neck.

I froze. How was that even possible? She had been in front of me and now she was behind. I heard her let out a low chuckle as she stroked the weapon down my throat. The rest of the class seemed as stunned as I was, silent as they stared at the two of us.

Finally Henry broke the silence, his eyes slightly wide as he clapped his hands together and said, ‘Touché.’

I pushed away from her and turned around. The smile was gone but her eyes shone triumphantly.

‘I don’t know how you did that,’ I said, ‘but it won’t work next time.’

‘Ahhhh.’ She leaned towards me and snapped her teeth together a few times. ‘It bites.’

I backed away from her and into Thomas.

‘Freaky much?’ he murmured as she brushed past us. When she had gone he grasped my arm and said, ‘That was amazing.’

‘Me getting handed my arse was amazing?’

‘No, but that somersault was. And since when can you do backflips?’

‘I’ve always…’ I stopped and stared at him.

I’d never done a backflip in my life. I had been too tall and gangly to be co-ordinated enough for gymnastics. Yet when I’d been fighting her it had all felt so natural.

 

***

 

The first thing I saw when I got to work was Mum seated in one of the booths with Sabby’s Mum.

‘Hi Aunty Grindella.’ I leant over and kissed them before heading out the back. Throwing an apron over my head, I tied the strings behind me and then went back to the common area to begin taking drinks orders. The food wouldn’t start for another half an hour.

Everything was progressing swimmingly till just before my break when Bob, one of the regulars, yelled out, ‘Hey Izzy, heard you got your powers. How come you’re still hand-delivering those drinks?’

All of the other witches, positioned at strategic locations, used their wands to transport their trays. Only Sally, a human, and I were hand-delivering ours.

‘Umm, Bob, let’s just say you’d probably prefer me to do it like this,’ I said.

‘Nonsense,’ he roared. He had consumed quite a bit of Elves’ Elixir and his cheeks were flushed. ‘Who wants to see Izzy do her stuff?’

The rest of the crowd, who had been getting rowdier as the night went on, took up the cause. ‘Izzy, Izzy,’ they chanted, some of them banging their mugs on the table. The band had been playing a lively jig. Now, it screeched to a halt, everyone in the pub turning to watch me.

Mum was whispering to Grindella, probably telling her about the chair episode from the night before. I saw them hold hands across the table and then she looked up and winked at me.

Oh thank the Great Dark Sky.
They were going to use their powers to control mine.

Turning confidently to the crowd, I held up my hand. ‘All right, all right,’ I said, placing my tray on the table nearest to me. It held eight large mugs of ale and two glasses of Faery Water. Pulling my wand out of my hair I concentrated on the tray.

‘Risius trayius,’ I said.

The tray leapt off the table and smashed into the ceiling, splintering the glasses and mugs. I shrieked and threw my hands up as liquid and glass flew towards me. The air above solidified, like a sheet of glass, and the falling debris bounced harmlessly onto its surface.

The entire pub was silent, staring at the pool of ale floating above me on the invisible shield.

Finally Bob broke the silence, ‘Well ain’t that something,’ he said. ‘If you don’t mind though Izzy, I’d prefer you to hand-deliver my drinks.’

The band struck up again, everybody turned back to their conversations, and just like that, it was over.

I kept my hands in the air till Mum came to rescue me.

‘I thought you had it covered,’ I whispered.

‘So did we,’ she muttered as she banished the mess to a bin in the corner of the room.

‘What happened?’ I lowered my hands, watching as the shield disappeared.

‘Our spell had no effect on yours. We didn’t even feel your magic.’

‘How can that be?’ All spells have a weave and a flow about them that another witch can detect. It’s what makes spell duelling possible. If you are fast enough you can feel a spell and counteract it.

‘I don’t know. But the sooner we find out about it the better.’

‘Yeah, I’m getting sick of throwing things at the ceiling.’

‘Why do you keep trying to levitate things?’

‘I’m too scared to try anything else.’

‘Don’t. Not until we get professional help.’

Professional help?

Deciding it was a good time to take my break, I slid into the booth beside Mum. Grindella leaned over the table towards me and asked, ‘So Izzy, are you looking forward to next Saturday?’

‘Sort of,’ I said, squirming at the thought. It was customary for the whole village to turn out for a witch or warlock’s eighteenth birthday. Mum had organised a marquee for the field behind the house.

Sabby’s party had been the month before. She had looked amazing in a red, velvet dress that’d clung to her like Gladwrap on a glass. At the rate I was going I was going to be wearing jeans and a tank top.

All too quickly my break was over and I was back to work. The others left not long after that. Scruffy curled up in a corner near the kitchen and fell asleep. When my shift was finally over I stood and watched him for a while before waking him. He looked so cute.

I had been relieved at the lack of fuss the pub’s patrons had made over the fact that my familiar was a dog. I had expected shock but instead had been met with curiosity. It let me hope that things would work out after all.

The floating chariot was hovering outside the house when I got home. As I tiptoed underneath it I could hear Grams giggling. I put my hands over my ears and bumped the front door with my knee, urging Eric to let me in before they heard me.

‘Izzy, is that you?’ Grandma Bella called from above.

‘Yes Grams,’ I said, turning to face them whilst trying not to see anything. ‘How was your night?’

‘Just wonderful,’ Grams sighed. ‘The whole evening has been wonderful.’

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