The Raven Queen (2 page)

Terrified, Fenris bucked and heaved to get the faeries off him as the red-eyed creature lifted the sword with the hilt clasped in both hands, but they simply laughed and pinned his head and legs to the ground. His panicked breath rasped between his teeth and a keen of pure fear
vibrated in his throat. He closed his eyes as he felt the tip of the blade prick the soft flesh under his jaw. His howl of pain was strangled as the blade lunged upwards, pinning his tongue. Blood filled his mouth, and as the faeries lowered his now limp head to the floor it pooled beneath his face, warm and sticky in the ice-cold hall. As he shuddered with shock he was dimly aware of the light laughter of the court and Liadan's voice saying, ‘Look, Fachtna, wolf tears. Collect them for me, would you? I imagine they are quite rare.'

Maddy squinted into the hazy summer sunshine and sighed. She hated duty visits and hated especially coming to visit Great-Aunt Kitty who lived in a care home on the outskirts of the suburbs of Cork city. For Maddy, these visits were particularly uncomfortable, as she knew she could end up here herself. The problem was that Great-Aunt Kitty had been driven mad by the Sight. A lot of the people in the home would have lived normal, happy lives if their ability to see faeries had not got them tangled up with the inhabitants of Tír na nÓg. But many of them had tried to warn people of the malevolent creatures that moved among them and they had been laughed at, mocked, and eventually locked away when their families and communities decided they were mad. Maddy could look around the garden of this place and see her future. Great-Aunt Kitty probably had gone a little bit senile with old age, but once she
had been just like Maddy. It did not help to watch Una, the family banshee, wandering around the Victorian walled garden saying hello to everyone, like a guest at a school reunion. Maddy noticed the white-uniformed nurses frowning at the patients who looked as if they were talking to thin air.

You're not helping, Una
, thought Maddy.
If these people keep talking to faeries, they'll never get out of here
.

She looked at her great-aunt, who was smiling away at nothing in particular, her papery, wrinkled hands folded in her lap.

Maddy cleared her throat. ‘I'm sorry, Aunt Kitty, I have to go. I'll see you soon though.'

The tiny woman smiled. ‘I know you do, Maddy. I can feel it.'

Here we go
, thought Maddy, as her blood ran cold. ‘Feel what?'

‘There's a reckoning coming, blood and fire and ice, and the Hound will have to run,' said Aunt Kitty. She turned her eyes on Maddy, her sweet smile still lingering on her lips. ‘But who will you run for?'

‘What do you mean?' asked Maddy.

‘We all know what you did,' said Aunt Kitty, shaking her head ever so slightly. ‘So we don't know who the Hound will run for – us or the red-haired queen?'

‘Us,' said Maddy. ‘Mortals, always. How could you think any different?'

‘Because you made a bargain, girl,' said Aunt Kitty, the softness fleeing her face as her eyes turned cold. ‘You bent the knee and you swore an oath of fealty to a faerie. You have to keep your word, girl, always. What is a Hound without honour?'

‘I always do the right thing,' said Maddy.

‘Do you now?' asked Aunt Kitty, leaning in close with such a cold expression that her silvery blue eyes darkened to steel. ‘Is it right, or is it what you think is right? Because that's a different thing altogether.'

Maddy thought back to last year and the blood that had drenched the autumn grass. Innocent blood from a person she had unwittingly condemned to death, so sure was she that she was doing the right thing. The smell of autumn rain cut through the heavy scent of summer roses. She could hear the hiss of that long red hair as it trailed over plaid wool.
You thought you were
moral.
You thought you were
righteous.
How does it feel now, hero?
asked a voice in her head. She closed her eyes for a second and saw the light go out in an innocent's eyes and his last breath cool in his mouth.

Aunt Kitty watched her closely and then smiled, a humourless, cynical and very, very sane twist of the lips, before giving a brief nod and sitting back in her chair.

‘I thought so,' she said.

Maddy opened her mouth to defend herself but the words choked in her throat. She stared at her great-aunt, who simply turned her face up to the sun, closed her eyes and smiled again as its rays bathed her skin.

Una chose that moment to come strolling up with the awkward, rolling gait that made her rock from side to side as she walked. She looked a horror, with lank, grey hair so thin it showed her wrinkled scalp, long bare hands and feet that were filthy and tipped with black, horny nails. Her clothes, torn and tattered grave shrouds, were wound round her emaciated body. One tooth hung on gamely in her wrinkled, sagging mouth. But her eyes were warm and kind and full of laughter. If it were not for her eyes, Maddy would have run screaming at the sight of her. The little banshee was tied to Maddy's family. Every time one of them died she mourned with a loud keening that could be heard in both the mortal and the faerie worlds. She was a weird sort of guardian angel, but her magical ability to know where anyone in the family was at any time had come in very handy in the past. It was as though Una could track Maddy and anyone related to her with her own faerie GPS system. As long as she did not get distracted by Cheese & Onion Tayto crisps, for which she had a terrible weakness.

As it was, she had managed to beg a few sweets off
the inmates and was loudly crunching them between her gums.

Maddy pulled a face. ‘Una, doesn't that hurt?'

The little banshee tapped her gums with the tip of a black fingernail. ‘Rock hard. Eating without teeth for two hundred years will do that to them.' She leaned forward and touched Aunt Kitty lightly on the arm with her grubby fingertips. ‘How are you keeping, Kathleen?'

Aunt Kitty opened her eyes and beamed at the little banshee. ‘Good, thanks. Yourself?'

‘Not so bad, hanging in there,' said Una.

‘You'll be around forever, you will,' said Aunt Kitty. ‘How many of us have you watched over?'

‘Oh, too many to count,' said Una. ‘You're looking well yourself.'

‘Oh aye, I'm going dancing later on!' said Aunt Kitty.

The two of them laughed as Maddy rolled her eyes. ‘They have no idea how to enjoy themselves these days, do they, these young ones?' Aunt Kitty asked Una. ‘They drag themselves around the place, dressed in black like widow-women, and listen to that awful music. You couldn't even sing to that rubbish, sure you couldn't.'

Una chuckled and shook her head. ‘And they look at us old ones and think we never had fun. Sure, fun only came along when they invented it.'

‘Really?' Maddy asked Una. ‘When was the last time you went clubbing?'

Una glared at her. ‘Don't be smart, Madeline, it doesn't suit you.'

Aunt Kitty gave a snort. ‘Do you remember the dances we had in town, Una? Do you remember that black net dress of mine, with the sticky-out skirt? I spent half a week's wages on sequins that I had to go all the way into town on the bus for, and nearly made myself blind sewing them all on. Mammy was scandalized. But, oh, how it sparkled! And Mammy gave me a loan of her lipstick, and Dermot said that when I danced I looked like I was made of stars.'

‘I remember, Kathleen,' said Una. ‘You used to come home so flushed and happy, your eyes were the biggest stars of all.'

‘Do you ever see Dermot?'

Una frowned. ‘From time to time. He's well, if that's what you're asking.'

‘Who did he marry again?'

‘Noreen O'Hara, the one that used to live out on the road to Mallow.'

Aunt Kitty clicked her tongue. ‘I remember her. She used to chase after all the boys.'

‘Well, she caught up with Dermot right enough,' said Una.

Aunt Kitty looked at Maddy. ‘He told me he would love me forever,' she whispered, her voice full of unshed tears. ‘It turned out forever didn't last as long as I thought it would.'

Pretty, witty Kitty, the baby of her family, whose wispy white hair was once thick brown curls. For a moment, Maddy saw the girl who danced for so long on a Saturday night she would have to ease her high heels from her aching feet and carry them, dangling from the tips of two fingers, as she walked home down the lane to the cottage in Blarney, the cold stone of the street pressing through her black seamed stockings. She saw her smile as she touched her lips, her dress of stars twinkling in the moonlight. Pretty, witty Kitty, her life ruined by the secrets in Blarney.

A nurse began to ring a bell to signal visiting time was over. Maddy jumped up and fussed with her bag, checking her phone and trying not to look too relieved. Una rolled her eyes, while Aunt Kitty cackled.

‘Look at her,' said Una. ‘I've seen greyhounds start a race slower.'

Maddy hid her blush by bending her head right down to rummage in the bag. ‘Auntie Fionnula sent some stuff for you. I've got a box of those jellied fruits you like and a fruitcake …'

‘I'll take the sweets but Fionnula can keep her cake,'
said Great-Aunt Kitty, pulling a sour face. ‘Never could bake, that one – her cakes are always dry. You couldn't even feed the ducks with them; poor things would sink, if you didn't brain them first, chucking the stuff at them.'

With a sinking heart, Maddy looked down at the biscuit tin that held Aunt Fionnula's cake. Great-Aunt Kitty had a point, but she could just see Aunt Fionnula's gimlet eyes narrowing with rage when Maddy brought it back. Somehow this was going to be her fault. Aunt Fionnula was, unjustifiably, very proud of her baking. This slur would not go unnoticed, no matter what excuse Maddy came up with.

‘Are you sure?' she asked.

‘Positive!' said Kitty. ‘I'm not as daft as people think I am. I'd know if I wanted Fionnula's burnt cakes stuck in my craw. But if there is anyone I want to finish off in here, I'll be sure to give you a call.'

The banshee and the old woman hooted with laughter while Maddy stuffed the cake back in the bag. People were drifting toward the exit. ‘I really do actually have to go,' she said.

‘Off you trot then,' said Kitty. ‘Don't let me keep you. But you can tell Fionnula that she can get off her backside and come herself next time.'

I would have to be suicidal to do that
, thought Maddy.

Kitty closed her eyes again and leaned her head back
against the chair. Her face was sunken with age and the bones of her skull stood out sharply. Maddy hesitated, wondering if she should kiss her great-aunt goodbye. But as she stood there, dithering, Kitty put a hand out and clutched her wrist.

‘You'll be fine, girl,' she said, her eyes still closed against the summer sun. ‘You just need to know what the Hound knows.'

‘What is that then?'

Kitty pulled her hand away and tutted. ‘How should I know? Do I look like the Hound?'

Una plucked at Maddy's arm and nodded her head toward the exit. ‘We'll be off now, Kitty,' she said. ‘I'll see you soon?'

‘You will, please God,' said Kitty, and then her head nodded on to her chest.

Una and Maddy left Kitty sleeping in her chair and made their way through the sun-drenched garden to the beautiful building that had once housed nuns. It took a second for Maddy's eyes to adjust to the dim light of the care home, and its cool air kissed her sunburnt arms. A grand wooden staircase and dark oak panelling gleamed in the half-light and gave off a faint whiff of beeswax polish. Maddy's trainers squeaked on the elaborate tiled floor that led to stained-glass double doors. She noticed that even though no one around them gave any sign that
they could see Una, the little faerie woman was given a wide berth – no one got close enough to jostle her or tread on her bare, dirty feet.

The small crowd of visitors spilled out into the car park. It could have been her imagination, but Maddy was sure the chattering voices were high with relief as they left their disturbed and disturbing relatives. Or perhaps it was her own guilt talking, because Maddy was certainly glad to escape poor Kitty.

She heaved the tote bag that Aunt Fionnula had insisted she bring with her on to her shoulder. It was too big for her skinny frame and the biscuit tin banged against her hip with every step. No doubt the dry-as-dust cake was disintegrating with each bounce and it would just add to the trouble Maddy was in, but she was too hot to care. She dug into her jeans pocket for the mobile phone Granda had insisted she have with her at all times and dialled Aunt Fionnula's number. After about three rings, she was relieved to hear Roisin pick up the phone. Relations were still strained between Maddy and Aunt Fionnula and the less she had to do with her aunt, the better.

‘Ro, it's me. Can someone come get me? Visiting time is over. I'm in the car park.' She heard Aunt Fionnula's sharp voice in the background and her name rapped out in short, hard notes. Roisin's voice dropped to a whisper.

‘Um, Mam's a bit busy right now. She wants to know if you can walk back?'

‘You are joking, right?' said Maddy. ‘I'm melting out here, and it's at least a half-hour walk back.'

There was a scuffling noise as Aunt Fionnula grabbed the phone from Roisin. ‘Maddy, where are you?'

‘The car park at the care home,' said Maddy, through gritted teeth. ‘Waiting on a lift.'

‘Madeline, you know full well I haven't the time to be running around after you!' barked Aunt Fionnula.

‘But it's a really long walk …' began Maddy, but Aunt Fionnula cut her off.

‘It's twenty minutes at the most, and you have young legs on you. The walk will do you good.'

Maddy stared in disbelief as the phone went dead in her hand.
She hung up on me
, she thought, as she glared at the little screen. She stuck her tongue out at it. ‘Cow!' she hissed.