Page 77 of Skulk of Foxes
Hope flared in my chest. I stepped away from him and he pointed. ‘Look.’
I blinked and followed his finger. Seemingly only metres away, albeit as if I were looking at flickering shadows, I could see Castlefield. It looked exactly as we’d left it. A vast vista was displayed in front of us, the border rippling between us, but my friends visible. There was a slight blue hue, which I supposed was because we were watching from a different demesne. But nobody was dying. My eyes skimmed over each figure.
I shook my head. ‘I don’t understand,’ I whispered. ‘Did it really work then? Are they really going to be alright?’
‘As you see,’ Morgan said. He glanced at me with a small, relaxed smile then swept an arm across. ‘Unless we’re both hallucinating, the human demesne has survived – and it’s all still standing.’
‘The people too,’ I breathed. All of them. I squinted, focusing on the shadowy shapes. ‘That’s Julie!’ I yelled. My erstwhile friend was on the ground on all fours, a look of anguish on her face. Not far from her, Monroe was picking himself up. He staggered over to the crumpled form of Jodie and poked her. Her head turned slightly and I relaxed further. Even Finn was stirring. Morgan was right. They were suffering but they were still alive. A slow smile spread across my face. ‘I saved the world.’
The elderly man smiled, his eyes crinkling at the edges. He was remarkably good looking for someone of his age. ‘Indeed. The humans are still there and they’re all fine. We could feel what was happening though. For the last few days we’ve been able to watch as well.’ His smile was replaced with a flash of rage. ‘So we all saw what Rubus was just doing. The shifts in power and magic over the past few days have been felt by everyone in Mag Mell. It’s why we’re all here. We knew something was happening with the border. I prayed it was going to re-open but I couldn’t allow myself to really believe…’ His voice cracked slightly and he gave himself a small shake. ‘That magical thing you swallowed was about to blow. When the dust has settled, you’re going to have to tell me what it was and where it came from.’ He patted me on the arm. ‘Don’t worry though, sweetheart. You saved all those humans. You saved that entire demesne, Madrona.’
I sensed rather than saw a brief ripple of tension from Morgan. ‘The blue …’ he muttered, half to himself.
The old man grimaced. ‘Magic.’
I gulped. ‘Magic? But that means…’
He brushed my cheek with the back of his hand. ‘Some leaked out from that thing. You couldn’t possibly contain it all. It doesn’t appear that there’s enough to seep out beyond Manchester though.’
I yanked myself away. That wasmycity. My home. ‘It doesn’t belong there.’ My voice was rising. ‘It will cause so many problems. It—’
‘Normally,’ the old man said, with a strangely fond expression, ‘I’d have agreed with you. The human demesne shouldn’t be able to cope with that level of magic. Maybe we’ve underestimated it all along.’
Maybe. There was a lot they wouldn’t have seen from here though.
Morgan ran a hand through his hair. ‘Perhaps the build-up of magic created by all those spells prepared Manchester for what was to come. The city made itself strong enough to withstand the onslaught that the sphere created. You stopped the sphere before anything worse happened.’ He glanced at me, obviously trying to be reassuring.
‘Definitely,’ the old man said briskly. ‘There’s nothing to worry about. Watch them. From what I can tell, the humans are going to cope just fine.’
I didn’t know who this guy was and I had no reason to trust him. I stared at Morgan, aware that panic was causing my nostrils to flare in what was probably a less than attractive expression.
Morgan understood me instantly. He reached out and took my hand. ‘I think it’s true,’ he said. ‘Manchester will never be the same again – you can see that from the very visible magic in the atmosphere. But it’s been contained.Youcontained it. By swallowing the sphere, you prevented the magic from leaking out further. The humans in Manchester – and the vampires, werewolves and the rest – will be okay. Their lives will be changed but they will survive and they can leave if they wish. The rest of the world is going to be fine. If the apocalypse had been going to happen it would have already.’
The old man sent me an anxious look. ‘Believe me, since the day you left, I’ve been here almost every morning trying to find a way through to help you get home. I had to get you back. I’ve missed you so much. An hour ago…’ He choked slightly. ‘An hour ago when I felt the borders start to weaken further, I knew it was going to be fine. I knew you’d find a way. You always do.’ He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. ‘You’re amazing.’ Inexplicably, he then wiped away a tear.
I stared at him. He obviously did know me rather well. After all, I reallywasamazing. ‘Who are you?’ I inquired.
He laughed and hugged me again, even tighter than before. Over his shoulder I gazed at Morgan in confusion.
‘Father,’ he mouthed.
I pulled back. Huh. No wonder he was so stately and good looking. And pleased to see me. A million questions sprang to my mind but instead I shook myself. Family reunions were all well and good but I had to get back; I had to be in Manchester. The people there needed me.
‘How do we get back there?’ I asked. ‘I have to help them. If there’s magic all across the city then…’
The man who was apparently Daddy Dearest shook his head. ‘You can’t. The borders are closed for good now. The magic surge caused by the sphere opened them just long enough for all the trapped Fey to return. But they won’t open again. You’re all back here for good.’
I swallowed, my stomach dropping. ‘But…’ I briefly squeezed my eyes shut. No. No matter how much I wanted to be there, I didn’t belong in that demesne. No faeries did. The problems our presence had caused would have repercussions for generations. I dragged my gaze across the forlorn band of people across the border, feeling sick. In effect they were struggling because of me. They might be alive but they’d still almost died because of me.
Morgan growled under his breath. ‘Stop it.’
I jumped. ‘Stop what?’
He turned to me, his green eyes holding mine. ‘All of us were there. What happened in Manchester is on all of us, not just on you. We’re all to blame. We all have to shoulder the burden. You might not remember it but you used to argue until you were blue in the face that we didn’t belong in that demesne and that we shouldn’t visit it at all. You were right all along.’
Yeah, I had been right all along. I didn’t exactly feel vindicated at the moment though – not when it had so obviously been my efforts which had hastened, if not caused, almost outright disaster.
My father – whose existence still seemed difficult to get my head around - stroked my hair. ‘You’ve been so brave,’ he murmured. ‘And so good.’
