Simon Green - Property of a Lady Faire

The last few vestiges of black smoke drifted away on the breeze. Birds started singing again.

“You see?” said Molly. “I’m not just here for the bad things in life.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I’m sure that will go a long way towards helping with your current status in my family.”

She looked at me. “My current status? I thought this was all about you?”

“Unfortunately, as it turns out, not,” I said. “They’ve put you back on the supernatural terrorist list.”

Molly smirked, actually flattered. “Been a long time since I thought of myself as that. Happy days . . . All right, what am I supposed to have done now? And it had better be something particularly stylish and impressive, or I’ll walk right back in there and demand to know why they thought it was me. I mean, I have my standards.”

“We’re supposed to have murdered everyone at the Department of Uncanny,” I said. “Including my grandfather, the Regent of Shadows.”

Molly stared at me for a long moment. “Who the hell thinks that ? I have only ever killed people who needed killing! Everyone knows that.”

“Pretty much everyone in our line of work believes we’re guilty,” I said. “Very definitely including my family. So I think we should get the hell out of Dodge. Right now.”

“Fine by me,” Molly said immediately. “You should never come home, Eddie. This place has always been bad for you. Let’s go back to my forest. No one can track us there, and we can talk freely without fear of anyone listening in.”

I looked back at the Merlin Glass, still floating on the air in full Door mode. The opening was full of quietly buzzing static, as it waited for new instructions. I looked at it for a long moment, before subvocalising the coordinates for Molly’s wild woods. I wasn’t entirely confident about trusting Molly to the Glass, after everything the Armourer had said, but it didn’t seem I had much of a choice. The Glass was the only real option I had for staying ahead of my enemies. My many enemies. I could have asked Molly to teleport us, but I didn’t like to. That kind of spell was a major drain on her magical reserves, and I was pretty sure we were going to need those in the not-too-distant future. So I waited for the woods to appear on the other side of the Glass, and then strode quickly through, with Molly right behind me.

• • •

It was good to be back in the wild woods again. The moment I stood among the huge and ancient trees, I felt half my cares just slip away, like a weight I no longer needed to carry. I stood a little taller, and breathed more easily. Tall and vast and heavy with foliage, the great trees spread away in all directions, as far as the eye could see . . . and farther. The primordial forest, of Olde Englande. From when life was new and free, and we all lived in the woods because there was nowhere else.

The air was heavy with rich and pungent scents, of earth and grass, leaves and flowers and other living things. A low wind gusted through the trees, carrying the songs of all sorts of birds, only some of which I recognised. Creatures large and small moved in the shadows among the trees, going about their business, entirely unconcerned with human visitors but preferring to keep their distance nonetheless. Just as well. They usually made rude remarks when they saw it was me. The forest wildlife was very protective when it came to Molly.

The Merlin Glass quickly shrank back down to hand-mirror size the moment Molly and I had passed through. As though it was limited by the old magics working in the wild woods. Or perhaps it just wanted to be put away and not thought about for a while. Until it was needed again. Looking back, it surprised me how quickly I’d become . . . not dependent upon the Glass, but certainly used to it. I don’t normally like relying on devices, even the Armourer’s ingenious little toys. Better to depend on your wits in the field; they’re less likely to let you down at a critical juncture. But the Glass was just so useful . . . I should have distrusted it long before this. Unless it was somehow influencing me. I tucked the hand mirror away in my pocket. It felt like storing a live grenade . . . that was just waiting for the right moment to go off.

Molly slipped her arm through mine and we strolled along together, through the tall trees. There were no open paths, as such, but Molly always knew which way to go, and the heavy vegetation seemed to just lean back out of the way, to let her pass. The trees’ branches bent ponderously together overhead, forming a thick, dark canopy, through which golden shafts of sunlight dropped down like shimmering spotlights. Birdsong rose up on either side of us, close and sweet and tuneful. A breeze caressed my face, filling my head with restful scents and a pleasant sense of languor. I could feel the day-long tension seeping slowly out of my muscles. It occurred to me then that it was always summer here in the wild woods, no matter what time or season it might be anywhere else in the world. Whenever Molly brought me here, it was always summer.

“One of these days,” I said, as casually as I could, “you’re going to have to trust me enough to tell me exactly where your private forest really is. Or perhaps the more proper question would be when it really is.”

“One of these days,” said Molly just as casually, looking straight ahead. “It isn’t that I don’t trust you, sweetie. It’s just that some secrets aren’t mine to share. I don’t own this place; I just get to visit. I’m a guest here, just like you.”

“Then who does own the wild woods?” I said. “Who do you need to ask, for permission to come here?”

“You see?” said Molly, squeezing my arm against her side companionably. “Questions just lead to more questions, with no guarantee of an answer. Or at least, an answer you could live with.”

“We lead such complicated lives,” I said, after a moment.

“You need to tell me what’s been happening,” Molly said sternly. “What did you talk to your uncle Jack about? And how did we end up as fall guys for the Uncanny massacre?”

I brought her up to date, and not surprisingly she jumped on the one thing that really mattered to her.

“So, no one in all your family knows, any more, who gave the Regent his orders to kill my parents? Or even why?”

“Uncle Jack doesn’t believe so,” I said carefully. “I suppose it’s always possible there could be a record somewhere, tucked away in some vault in the family archives, and I promise we will look later, when this current mess is finally over, but I wouldn’t put any money on it. This is all deniable operations stuff, and the people involved would have been bound to cover their tracks. Destroy all the paper trails, and there’s no incriminating evidence . . .”

“I need to know,” said Molly.

“I know,” I said.

I hadn’t told her about the Merlin Glass. Partly because I didn’t want her distracted from our current mission until my parents were safe again. And partly because I was worried that the Glass might be listening. I didn’t want to put Molly in danger from the Glass. Or from whatever might be lurking inside it.

“I have heard of the Lady Faire,” said Molly. “As a name, and a legend. One of those renowned personages always popping up on the edges of things. Up in Really High Society, where the air isn’t just rarefied, it’s designer, and only the very best and the very worst kind of people get to mingle. I haven’t a clue where she is right now. I’ve never mixed in those kinds of circles, even before I met you and got civilised. It’s not like she and I had anything in common, after all. The Lady Faire used seduction and fascination to destroy her enemies and achieve her ends, whereas I always favoured . . .”