‘It won’t work, Cassandra. He’s spent,’ Iznaya said.
‘No! This is my fault! Please don’t let him go yet. Not like this.’
‘It’s not your fault, Cassandra.’
Suddenly, Cassandra realised: ‘You knew he would do this!’ She looked from Iznaya to Zabeth, and then to Lorcan, studying his emotions and finding no hint of surprise. How naïve was she? She wanted confirmation. ‘Lorcan?’
‘I wondered,’ he admitted, then hurried to add, ‘but I didn’t think you had enough energy left for him to use.’ He shrugged. ‘I underestimated how powerful he was.’
Iznaya tried to reassure her. ‘It was his time, and you’ve given him a great gift allowing him to transfer to you. He’s a part of you now. Take comfort from that.’
— CHAPTER 81 —
The Universal Spirit
Lorcan stood watching Cassandra sprinkle flower petals on to Ith’s grave.
She had insisted on doing it every day for the past week and he was wondering how long she intended to continue with it.
A pigface shoot was trying to grow over the mound of sand that covered Ith’s body and she nudged it away with her foot. She looked up at him and knew she’d been caught.
‘It doesn’t seem right to just let it become overgrown.’
She’d been saying that every day for the past week, too.
Lorcan toed the leaf back into place. ‘You know it’s what Ith would want.’ He caught hold of her chin and tilted her face up to his. ‘What would he say?’
He’d explained this enough times that she knew the answer by heart. ‘He would say that his body becoming fuel for new growth was a sublime use for it.’
‘That’s right. He would say that. And if you keep clearing everything away, you’re just delaying it.’
Cassandra looked back down at the mound. The wind had already blown most of her flower petals away. ‘Do you think he’s here?’
‘No.’
She looked up at him with such despair that he felt guilty for being so harsh, but honestly, how many times did they have to go over this? He pulled her in against his body and wrapped his arms around her. ‘Not just here. He’s in this earth,’ he rubbed the ground with his foot, ‘and the sea.’ He turned her towards the bay, even though they couldn’t see it through the bush. Her back was against his chest and the wind blew her hair away from her face. ‘And the wind. He endures in the universal spirit: in every plant and animal, but most importantly, in here.’ He took Cassandra’s hand and pressed it against her heart.
She began to sob.
As a fae, Cassandra was even more resistant to psychic manipulation than she had been as a human, which now made her virtually impervious to anyone but the most talented mystics and healers. Luckily for him, though, the transmutation bond had given them an enhanced emotional connection so his ability to soothe and heal her had improved significantly. He turned her to face him again, retrieved her hand and laid it over his heart. ‘He’s in here, too.’
The intensity of Cassandra’s grief at Ith’s death had come as no surprise to Lorcan. He knew that Ith and Iznaya had accepted her when almost no one else had, and it was obvious that they had grown to love her – not that there was anything particularly noteworthy in that: if Ith and Iznaya didn’t love you, you must have done something pretty bad. But, in Cassandra’s case, it went deeper than that. Cassandra seemed to have developed a very special bond with Ith in particular, as if their relationship, albeit short, had been preordained in some way. Ith hadn’t given Cassandra his quiddity simply because, in his dying moments, he had found a convenient way to preserve it. It had been a gift of love, to help Cassandra become the best fae she could be, and if she understood nothing else, she should understand that. ‘I’m sure that he felt joy at the end to know that the wisdom he’d built up over his lifetime now lives in you.’
Cassandra nodded. ‘I know it was a great honour. I want to be worthy of it.’
‘Ith already knew you were worthy of it or he wouldn’t have done it.’
‘But I don’t want to waste it. Will you make sure I don’t?’
‘Of course.’
They stood for a while longer. Lorcan wondered how much time would be needed to demonstrate an appropriate degree of sympathy. He gave it about thirty seconds before he said, ‘Come on. Let’s go down to the beach.’ It was still early enough in the morning that there would be little chance of encountering humans.
‘Okay.’ Cassandra sniffed and rubbed her eyes against Lorcan’s chest to dry them. ‘Let’s start planning how we’re going to find your parents and my mother. If we put together what Ith knew with what I know and what you know … who knows what we might know?’
That made no sense to Lorcan. He would never completely understand Cassandra, even now with her human quiddity within him. He hoped not, anyway.
His arm tightened around her waist as he took flight. He would never get sick of having to carry her through the air this way. It made him almost wish her wings wouldn’t grow so he would always have to do it.
— CHAPTER 82 —
Looking Forward
Lorcan landed on the edge of the ridge with Cassandra still snuggled against his side. It was a skill he’d perfected since bringing her home.
He kept his wings half open to protect her from the wind and had to work at anchoring himself or be blown away.
Cassandra looked up at him with watery eyes. ‘You know what I said about not wasting Ith’s quiddity?’
‘What about it?’ Lorcan had hoped the change of location might have put this subject to rest, at least until they visited Ith’s grave again tomorrow. He wasn’t so thick that he’d believed they were finished doing that.
‘I’ve been thinking …’
Why did Lorcan suddenly feel like letting the wind carry him away?
‘Iznaya doesn’t need me anymore.’
‘Iznaya loves you. She’d never …’
‘That’s not the same thing. She has Pax now; she doesn’t actually need me. Anyway, now that I’m fae, I should decide on an apprenticeship.’
‘There’s plenty of time for that. You don’t even have your wings yet.’
‘I know.’ She looked down and watched her fingers flick sand grains over the edge. ‘I’m just kicking ideas around in my head.’
Lorcan wasn’t surprised. He’d glimpsed inside her head: it was like a box of bees in there. Cassandra hated uncertainty, and patience wasn’t one of her virtues.
‘I think I know what I’d like to be,’ she said.
‘And what is that?’
‘You won’t like it.’
‘The decision is yours, Cassandra.’ Not a watcher. Anything but a watcher.
‘I want to be a watcher.’ Cassandra looked back up into Lorcan’s face. He knew she was expecting him to disapprove and hoping he wouldn’t. ‘What do you think of that?’
I think it’s a terrible idea. It terrifies me. Tell me how to change your mind. ‘If that’s what you really want, it would be a great use of Ith’s quiddity.’
‘And my humanity.’
Lorcan nodded stiffly. What was he doing? He should be trying to talk Cassandra out of this. He had just saved her from living out a stupidly short human life span – even if the fae didn’t decide to exterminate the lot of them during her lifetime – and now she wanted to choose the most dangerous fae vocation available. But he wouldn’t be that guy: the one who smothered his partner in his, albeit noble, desire to protect her. So, instead, he said, ‘I believe a time is coming when fae and humans will live in harmony again. Perhaps your job will be to build that bridge when the time is right.’
He knew he’d said the right thing when tears filled Cassandra’s eyes again. ‘I like the idea of the last seventeen years of my life as a human having had a purpose. And I treasure knowing that you’ll support me. Thank you.’ She laid her hand on his chest and stretched to kiss his cheek. ‘I can feel your apprehension. You know I can do that now, d
on’t you?’
Actually, he’d forgotten. But she wasn’t very good at it, or she wouldn’t only be calling it apprehension. He did his best to think cheerful thoughts before she improved. Forevermore, neither of them would be able to completely conceal their emotions from the other, and he found that he didn’t mind.
They stared out over the bay. This morning, lazy waves lapped below them, falling slightly shorter each time. Cassandra stretched her legs and wiggled her toes, trying to touch the water, even though she was nowhere near it. When she wasn’t mourning Ith, she was enchantingly carefree. Lorcan wondered if she had any idea of the job that was before them: saving their parents and humanity, too. How would she feel if they failed and the fae decided to exterminate the human race?
But they wouldn’t fail. One day soon there would be reconciliation between humans and fae. It had already begun.
‘The tide is turning,’ Cassandra said.
He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. ‘Yes, it is.’
~***~
Thank you for reading my book.
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Thanks. Nicola Shill.
About the Author
Nicola Shill lives in Australia on the Mornington Peninsula where The Fae of Gillwillan is set.
Her inspiration lies in the rich tapestry of life around her, her husband, Mark, her five children, lifelong friends and the beautiful coastal environment in which she lives. Out of the window of her writing studio, she watches kangaroos hop past as she searches for inspiration.
Nicola’s background in science has fuelled her fascination for studying the complexities of relationships and life so thoroughly explored in The Fae of Gillwillan.
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Acknowledgements
There have been so many friends and family members who have helped bring this novel to fruition, that I am terrified of leaving someone out if I try to list them all.
Instead, I will embrace my inner coward and simply say…
Thank you.
You know who you are.
And so do I.
In Loving Memory Of
Keith Mander (13/11/1920 – 3/12/2005)
and
Betty Mander (27/10/1922 – 11/6/2013)
Who live on in these pages as Ith and Iznaya.
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