Page 21 of A Kiss from the Fae (Mistress of Magic #2)

‘We could have invited the group, you know. Safety in numbers and all that,’ Gabriel hissed as he held out a hand for Faye, perched precariously at the top of the black iron railings that surrounded Regent’s Park.

Faye reached for Gabriel’s slim, silver-ringed hand and hoisted herself up so she could reach her foot to the top.

‘I’m okay. Jump down,’ she whispered back. She heard a thump as Gabriel fell into a bush on the other side of the railings. More daintily, Faye engineered herself to the top and lowered herself down the other side.

‘I can’t believe you’re making me break into one of the royal parks,’ Gabriel tutted, dusting himself down. Seemingly not possessing any casual clothes, he’d done his best to be anonymous in black trousers, a black polo neck and a black overcoat.

‘You look like a French detective,’ Faye whispered. ‘It’s not my fault the park closes so early at this time of year. Anyway, it’s good. It means we won’t be disturbed.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with being stylish, dear Faye. We’re like magic detectives, anyway.’ Gabriel helped her onto the gravelled pathway, and Faye pointed to where she remembered the garden. ‘Imagine me as a Wiccan Hercule Poirot.’

Faye rolled her eyes at him.

They had waited for a full moon, almost a week after Faye had visited Gabriel’s shop.

Full moons were a time of heightened power, and the moonlight lit the park in its blue-white brightness.

Unusual shadows suggested themselves at the edges of Faye’s vision; the moon’s reflected light wasn’t enough to cast the sharp shadows she’d walked through before, but its oddly stark glow cast an eerie almost-there lens over everything.

‘It’s this way.’ Faye led Gabriel the way she remembered, keeping to the edges of the pathways in case anyone was patrolling the park.

They walked quietly under the close trees, the fallen leaves under their feet.

In the dark, with no one else there, the energy of the park was completely different.

Gone was the pleasant drone of activity, gone was the busy human story that evolved there every day.

Instead, there was a watchfulness, a humming pause in a low, mournful tone.

It wasn’t a threat, but something waited for them. Something was alive in the dark.

They reached the concentric circles of rosebushes.

With the moonlight on them the leaves looked waxy and artificial; the white flowers Faye had seen previously were petals on the ground, trodden into the mud.

But tonight, Faye didn’t even have to close her eyes to detect the fae magic because the mini labyrinth, such as it was, was alive with faeries.

‘Oh, my goodness.’ She let out a breath as a wave of delight pricked her body.

Faye glanced at Gabriel.

‘Are you seeing this?’ she whispered, but the expression on his face was enough to tell her that he was. Gabriel’s eyes were wide with wonder; he met Faye’s eyes with an incredulous grin.

‘I can’t believe it. But yes, I am.’

The rose faeries danced an organised reel somewhat similar to a country dance or an old English dance from something like Tudor times, though it was difficult to completely characterise it.

In the circular footpaths, orderly lines of faeries circled and twirled in perfect unison, dipping and bowing in a courtly way to each other.

They were the size of small children, but had androgynous human features at the top half of their bodies and rose petal garments that swept to the ground on their lower halves.

Their skins were varying hues of yellow, red, white and pink, like roses themselves, and the perfume Faye had smelled before – an intense scent of roses, sweet and earthy – filled the air.

As they danced, the faeries sang a simple melody which was surprisingly mournful; in a strange way, it fitted the measured gravity of their dance. It wasn’t sad, but serious and regal.

Like before, the gold dust light appeared to rise from the rosebushes and float upwards like bubbles underwater or an upside-down sleet. Gabriel reached out his hand for it, but Faye pulled him back and shook her head.

They stood completely still, watching the faerie dance, knowing that if they moved even slightly, they might frighten the faeries away. Yet, when the dance ended, two of the faeries turned to them and held out their hands.

‘We shouldn’t,’ Faye warned, though the sudden wave of temptation that hit her when the fae’s attention diverted to them was difficult to ignore. ‘They’re dangerous. I don’t know where this leads, Gabriel. We might take their hand now and come back in fifty years. Or not at all.’

‘What do you suggest, then?’ Gabriel spoke out of the corner of his mouth. ‘We came here to summon Lyr. We can’t do it now they’re here.’

‘Why not?’ Faye turned to him, thinking fast. ‘These are his creatures. This is the earth realm. They can help us. Lend us their power, like we would ask in calling in the quarters. These fae are partly who we’re calling on every time we do that.’

She crouched down and undid her backpack, taking out her grandmother’s grimoire.

‘I brought this. It’s got a ritual for summoning faerie kings and queens in it. We can do it here.’

Gabriel looked at the rose faeries.

‘It seems a bit…rude, to ask them to stop their dancing so we can use their space,’ he whispered doubtfully.

‘It’s not rude,’ Faye whispered back with more confidence than she felt.

Yet, she had power, and she could feel it rising up in her already.

It was half the electric power of the fae and half her training as a witch; every time she worked magic now, she felt it growing, an unwieldy, explosive something that coiled in her belly, gold and ready to rise up in her like wings of fire.

‘We could…I don’t know…do the summoning somewhere else?’ Gabriel looked around.

‘Gabriel. Are you scared?’ Faye took his hand for a moment and searched his eyes. ‘There’s no need to be,’ she lied, but she thought she was probably good enough to convince him. Gabriel wanted to be convinced, anyway, she could tell.

‘Look. What point would there be doing it somewhere else when we made all this effort to break into the park? Just look at this, for goodness’ sake.

’ She gestured to the golden light falling upwards, and to the rose-skirted fae creatures that had resumed their solemn dancing.

‘This is a place of power. We need somewhere like this if it’s just the two of us; we need the power.

On the heath we had a whole coven. It might not work if we summoned him in some random back garden.

So this is the place of power we’re going to use.

And this is where we find Lyr again. Okay? ’