So, what to do? He didn’t even know Cassandra’s feelings. He had tried tuning in to her emotions and she certainly seemed sad, but reading emotions during sleep was notoriously unreliable since it revealed more about the person’s current dream than their general state of mind. For all he knew, she may be relieved to be home. She may not have spared her life as a fae a single backward glance. Her damp pillow and handkerchiefs strewn around the bed every night suggested otherwise. What it suggested to him was that she was crying herself to sleep. But he could be wrong: she might only have a cold – a very persistent one. Maybe he should lay his hands on her and see if she was sick.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he flew over to stand on the fist Cassandra had curled under her chin. She looked vulnerable. It brought forth a surge of protectiveness from him. He leaned over and pressed his hand against her cheek. He couldn’t sense any illness. What his fingertips encountered were the salty trails of her tears. He kissed the end of one of the trails where her tears had dripped off her jaw. Then he flew away into the night before he gave in to the temptation to wake her and beg her to return with him to his world.
He needed to speak with Zabeth. Urgently.
— CHAPTER 56 —
Farewell Dear Heart
The following morning, Cassandra was sitting at her grandmother’s kitchen table.
Grandma had set a plate of rock cakes between them, poured a coffee for herself and squeezed fresh orange juice for Cassandra. She kept breaking bits off her rock cake and feeding them to her dog, although she knew she wasn’t supposed to. Dad always ticked her off if he saw her doing it, telling her she was teaching the dog to beg for food from the table. Cassandra thought he may as well save his breath; the damage had already been well and truly done and Grandma wasn’t showing any signs of stopping.
Their conversation took the usual routes: school, friends, school, teachers, school, careers. Education was very important to Grandma, but Cassandra didn’t mind. Grandma had good reason to value it. She’d grown up in a farming family at a time when girls were expected to aspire only to be good wives, mothers and volunteers at appropriate charity organisations. Grandma had been driven by an urge to escape to the city and do more with her life. She became a teacher, but her passion for further education and flair for organisation saw her quickly move through the ranks into management positions that had never been held by women before. Cassandra supposed that was why she got on as well as she did with Grandma: she wasn’t fluffy like her friends’ grandparents. Cassandra had a huge amount of respect for her and valued her opinions. She viewed Grandma as a role model and, since Grandma saw Cassandra as a protégé, their relationship was extremely harmonious.
The conversation meandered along. Cassandra was wracking her brains for a way of saying goodbye without alerting Grandma to the fact that she was leaving. Nothing had yet sprung to mind when it came time to go home. When they kissed at the front door, Cassandra squeezed Grandma in a tight embrace and whispered in her ear.
‘I love you, you know. I promise I’m going to be all right.’
Grandma held Cassandra at arm’s length and studied her with a perplexed expression on her face. Cassandra knew then that she’d given too much away with just those few words. Grandma was almost impossible to fool and would now be wondering whether to pull Cassandra back inside and question her. But to Cassandra’s relief, Grandma’s expression softened and she said, ‘I love you too. Of course you’re going to be all right. You’re going to be better than all right.’ Love and pride shone in her eyes. ‘You’re maturing into a fine young lady. You’re intelligent and industrious and you’ve grown up to be assertive and confident. You have a bright future ahead of you, once you work out what you want to do with it.’ She wrapped Cassandra back in her arms and hugged her again. ‘I’m looking forward to watching it unfold. I’m proud of you.’
Cassandra felt Grandma’s gaze on her as she walked away up the street, but she couldn’t turn around and wave goodbye because then Grandma would see the tears streaming down her face.
After lunch, Cassandra visited Emma. She was still no closer to an ingenious method of expressing a coded farewell. She was one of those people eternally doomed to think of the perfect thing to say after the event.
They spent a companionable afternoon lazing on Emma’s bed, listening to music and watching YouTube videos, although Cassandra found it impossible to settle her mind enough to do it justice. Instead, she let her eyes wander around Emma’s bedroom and studied her face, drinking it all in and trying to commit everything to memory. She was already keenly feeling the loss and wondering if she had the courage to leave.
The afternoon faded away and Cassandra gathered up her resolve.
‘Emma, I want you to know you’re my best friend and … and I love you.’
Emma looked up from her magazine with a wary expression on her face and fixed her eyes on Cassandra’s.
Cassandra started to lose the little bit of nerve she’d managed to muster. She lowered her gaze and picked at the bedspread. ‘I just want to say … I need you to know that whatever happens …’
‘You’re going back, aren’t you?’
‘What?’ Cassandra’s attention returned to Emma’s face.
‘You’re going back.’ It was a statement this time, not a question.
‘Where?’
Emma shrugged. ‘Wherever it was you were before.’
Cassandra started to form a denial. It must have shown on her face because Emma raised her eyebrows, expecting the lie. Cassandra changed her mind. Why would she deny it when Emma had practically done the dreaded deed for her? All she had to do was agree.
‘Yeah,’ she let out on a heavy exhale.
‘Can’t you tell me?’ Emma’s eyes and voice turned pleading.
‘No, I really can’t. I’m sorry. I want to.’
‘Do you have to go?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Are you in trouble?’
‘No. No, I want to go, but I’ll miss you – so much. I wish I could take you with me.’ Cassandra started to cry silent tears and Emma joined in.
‘Can I visit?’
‘No.’
‘Will I ever see you again?’
‘No.’ Cassandra completely lost it then. She grabbed Emma and hugged her in a bone-cracking embrace. ‘I love you,’ she choked out.
‘I love you too,’ Emma wept back.
It was all Cassandra could take. She pushed out of Emma’s embrace, fled from the house and didn’t look back when Emma called out; nor would she be answering the inevitable phone calls and texts tonight. Tears blinded her, fuelled by all that had been left unsaid: that Emma was not to worry about her, that she would be happy and would always be thinking of her, and that Emma should be happy, too. She wanted to wish her well for the future and encourage her to continue with her art. Emma was very talented. She called Cassandra her muse. Would she be all right without her? Cassandra wanted to thank her for her friendship and tell her that she would never forget. She wanted to explain that she didn’t want to leave, but she just couldn’t stay any longer. She needed to go back.
Damn it; she wished she could tell Grandma and Emma the truth.
— CHAPTER 57 —
Desperate Twaddle
Zabeth stared at Lorcan as he sat on the edge of his chair across from her, elbows on his knees, big hands wrapped around a full cup of tea, now quite cold.
She had sensed his presence immediately on waking up this morning. When she’d stuck her head outside, she found him sitting on the rock near the bottom of her tree. He appeared to have been sitting there deflating for most of the night. His announcement that he wanted Cassandra brought back in had been no great surprise. He’d attempted to justify it under the guise of security (him being a watcher and all) and she’d allowed him to rave on, not feeling any need to join in. He was too intelligent not to realise for himself what twaddle he was uttering. And so he blathered on, talking himself into
and back out of dead ends until he was eventually forced to admit his feelings for Cassandra – that he loved her – without any coercion from Zabeth whatsoever.
‘You won’t be able to keep working as a watcher if you tell the council that. They’ll see it as a conflict of interest,’ she pointed out.
‘Maybe they should see it as a more balanced view. They never minded me hating humans. What happened to their problem with subjectivity then? Anyway, it shouldn’t be that way.’
‘How should it be?’
‘Humans and fae ought to be able to work together. There are lots of humans who see the wrong that has been done and want to fix it. We should be helping them. Bringing Cassandra back could be the first step towards reconciliation.’
‘My, my, you have come a long way,’ Zabeth murmured.
‘I’m just reporting it as I see it. That’s my job.’
‘There are other humans, powerful ones, who depend on the status quo,’ she reminded him.
‘But that’s changing.’
Zabeth shook her head. ‘It won’t be enough.’
‘But it’s growing. Soon it will be.’
‘Calm down, Lorcan. I agree with you. That’s not what I meant. I mean it won’t be enough to convince the council to allow Cassandra to come back.’
‘You could tell them to.’
‘Of course I can’t. Don’t be any more ridiculous than you have to. You know we don’t work that way. Once we start making unilateral decisions to suit ourselves, we end up with a system like theirs. Only the interests of a powerful few are served. You, of all people, have seen the ugly side of that. I’m surprised at you. Disappointed too.’ Actually, what she felt for Lorcan was pity. He was talking such nonsense, he must be pretty desperate, but she saw no happy solution for him. She sighed and continued, ‘You know I share your hope for reconciliation. But that day hasn’t arrived yet and there’s no guarantee it will arrive in time.’
‘Can you really see us annihilating them?’
‘Yes, I can. There are many who think it inevitable. A few who think we should have done it by now.’
‘But we don’t do that sort of thing,’ he pleaded, as though she had the power to make it true. ‘We’re peaceful. That makes us as bad as them.’
‘If we were as bad as them, we would have done it already. Nobody can argue that our lives wouldn’t be improved. You don’t need me to tell you, Lorcan. You know it will only be done when there is no alternative, for the good of all species on the planet.’
‘Except humans.’
‘Well, yes. Of course, except humans. But they, themselves, will have forfeited their right to be one of the species on this planet by believing themselves to be the only indispensable species on the planet.’ She shrugged. ‘They’ve chosen a suicidal path for themselves anyway.’
Lorcan stared down at his cup and spoke to it. ‘I can’t bear the thought of the human race, with Cassandra still a part of it, ceasing to exist.’ He looked back up, directly into Zabeth’s eyes. ‘I love her. Won’t you please override the council and bring her back … for me? Please?’
‘You know I can’t do that.’
‘Can’t we tell them she … I don’t know … she …’
Zabeth raised her eyebrows. Surely Lorcan wasn’t about to suggest they lie to the council? ‘Go home, Lorcan. Go to bed. You’re not thinking straight.’
Lorcan slammed his cup down, causing tea to slosh over the side. ‘Don’t speak to me as if I’m still a child.’
‘Then don’t talk like one.’
Lorcan stood up, strode angrily to the door and launched himself out of it.
After Lorcan left, Zabeth sat quietly in her chair with her eyes closed. He could be emotionally flammable on the rare occasions when he let his control slip. It came from his father’s side of the family. His father had thundered off, panicked and unprepared when his mother had been taken and had never been seen again.
She recalled the sages’ council she’d attended yesterday. If Lorcan had any idea how close the human race had come to being wiped out, no force on earth would have prevented him from kidnapping Cassandra and sitting her on top of the agora until someone agreed to shrink her.
— CHAPTER 58 —
Reckless Begging
Lorcan flew down the mountain, well aware that he should have summoned a snake. It was too far to fly alone. By the time he got close to home, he would be exhausted and flying so slowly and so low that he would be an easy target for a human with the sight. He hadn’t waited for a ride because he was too rattled. He was angry with Zabeth and startled by his own admission of his feelings for Cassandra.
Luckily, it was late autumn, so the warm weather was over and the tourists had left. There were far fewer humans around than there had been a few months ago. He made it home exhausted, but unscathed.
He went directly to Eerin’s house, not caring that he was interrupting her tutoring of Tani. It didn’t worry him if Tani heard what he had to say; everyone would know soon enough anyway. This time he didn’t bother with all the piffle he’d tried unsuccessfully to feed Zabeth.
‘I want Cassandra brought back in. Will you do it?’
Eerin and Tani stared at him. He knew they were wondering if he’d gone mad. He wondered about it himself. How could he love a human? They represented everything that was bad and wrong. Or at least they used to. When did he start sympathising with them? He would never forgive the human who had collected his mother and caused his father to leave. The difference was that the hatred was now directed at an individual, rather than the whole of humankind. Somewhere along the way, he had become part of the tide of change that he’d described to Zabeth.
‘The council …,’ Eerin began.
‘Stuff the council.’ Two pairs of eyes widened at Lorcan’s vehemence. ‘They don’t need to be involved. You didn’t need their permission last time.’
‘Last time was an immediate security threat, I had to act instantaneously. That’s not the case now.’
‘Come on, Eerin, I know you can do it.’ Lorcan tried the bulldozer tactic. It had never worked on Eerin before, and it didn’t work now.
‘No, Lorcan, I can’t. I can call a meeting of the council and you can put your case forward, but I don’t like your chances. There’s no good reason to bring her back.’
‘I love her.’
‘Lorcan, be sensible.’
‘Eerin, I love her!’
‘So how are you going to feel when Cassandra ages and dies while you’re still young?’ she snapped.
It was a subject everyone, including Lorcan, had avoided thinking about, but if ever there was a time to consider it, now was the time. Lorcan knew he couldn’t stand to watch that happen. He also couldn’t stand not to be with Cassandra for whatever time they had. ‘I’ll look after her,’ he said quietly.
Eerin tilted her head and looked at Lorcan. He held her gaze. Eventually, she took a deep breath and asked, ‘Does she love you?’
Lorcan sighed and looked away. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Does she want to come back?’
Lorcan stared at his feet. ‘I don’t know,’ he mumbled.
‘What were you planning on doing?’ Eerin’s voice was rising to an incredulous shout. ‘Kidnapping her? She’s only just got away. What makes you believe she’ll thank you for it?’
‘I was hoping,’ Lorcan ground out between gritted teeth, ‘that she would be feeling the same way.’
‘It’s a lot for her to give up, even if she is.’
Lorcan snorted. Who would choose human over fae?
But Cassandra had.
‘Look, Lorcan, it’s all irrelevant anyway. I can tell you now, the council won’t support it. In case you’ve forgotten, humans are a threat to us. There are many who are relieved she’s gone. She has nothing to offer us.’
‘Isn’t she more of a threat out there, now that she’s seen us?’
‘Zabeth thinks not. Are you going to argue with her?’
br /> He’d already tried that, but he wasn’t going to admit it to Eerin. She probably knew anyway.
‘Please, Eerin,’ he begged.
‘Lorcan, I can’t.’
‘Please.’
‘No.’
He turned and stomped out of the house. Tani ran after him, catching up when he was almost home.
‘Lorcan, wait,’ she called out.
‘What do you want, Tani?’ He kept walking. He was exhausted and he’d had enough lectures about his folly for one day.
‘Lorcan, you should talk to her. You haven’t, have you?’
‘No.’
‘But you’ve been visiting her?’
Fabulous. If Tani had worked it out, who else had? ‘Mind your own business.’
‘Well, it’s pretty obvious.’
‘It won’t make any difference, Tani. You heard Eerin.’
‘Cassandra should know how you feel, whatever happens. She’d want to know.’ They had made it to Lorcan’s house. Tani grabbed his arm and stopped him from disappearing inside.
He turned and faced her impatiently and she dropped his arm as if she’d just realised what she’d done. He pressed his advantage by scowling at her to frighten her away, but it didn’t work. Apparently, he was stuck in this stupid conversation. ‘How would you know?’
‘I’m her sister, remember?’
‘You didn’t even like her at the start.’
‘Neither did you.’
He had to hand it to Tani, she wasn’t easily intimidated. ‘She grew on me,’ he muttered.
‘Me too.’
He was going to cry. There was no way he was doing it in public; he’d sunk low enough today.
‘Thanks, Tani,’ he said thickly, and dashed into his house.
Lorcan needed to sleep. He lay down and tried to find peace, but the day’s conversations were replaying through his mind. Eventually, he stopped fighting it. He stared at the ceiling and thought. One thing he knew was that he couldn’t let it rest: he couldn’t forget Cassandra. How had this happened? He and Cassandra hadn’t known each other very long and had fought for most of that. They had never even discussed their feelings for each other. Tani was right: the first step was to talk to Cassandra. Tonight, he would visit her as usual, but this time he would wake her and they would talk.