The Rise of the Fairy Queen (The Fairy Queen Trilogy Book 1) Read online

  “You’re safe though. They would never expect you to come back. But let’s go to Maud’s.”

  They follow Norah through the streets and Elsie keeps her head down and her nerves in check.

  They knock and wait for Maud to open the door.

  “I’m going, but I’ll come back in the morning. I promise I can help you, even just a little. Just to defend yourself.” Norah hugs both of them before soaring up and flying away.

  The door opens up and Maud beams at the sight of them. “Oh, you are early, catching me before I’m finished baking!”

  “I’m so sorry.” Elsie’s face falls; she can’t bear to have Hardy and his mum angry with her.

  Maud pulls her into a tight hug. “Oh, pet. Don’t cry. I was only playing. Come on in. We’ll bake and cook and gossip up a storm together. How did you get on with that boy of mine?”

  She doesn’t wait for an answer but bustles through to the kitchen and gestures to the full pot bubbling away on the fire, pastry waiting to be rolled, bowls waiting to be stirred and a plate of hot bread rolls waiting to be eaten.

  “Here.” She gives Elsie a spoon and sets her mixing a batter. Meg rolls out the pastry for savoury biscuits.

  “I cook and bake all day long. What we don’t eat, we pass along. There’ll be no hungry bellies around here if I can help it. Now how did you get on with the troupe? I used to know a boy who lived out there...”

  She chatters on and Elsie lets her mind wander and the conversation between Maud and Meg wash over her. She likes just sitting, stirring, wondering how different her life will be if they pull off a rebellion in the way Hardy hopes to. She also hopes Hardy will call into his mother’s so she can apologise to him. She can’t stand the thought of him being angry with her or annoyed by anything she says or does. He’s such a kind man, doing so many good things.

  Maud takes the bowl off her and passes her another set of ingredients to mix. “Good girl.” She pats her hand and Elsie smiles at her. This is what she missed the most when she was locked up. Bustle and busyness; being part of something. Even these mundane tasks become more interesting if you can do them with other people.

  “And what a beautiful queen you’ll be.”

  Elsie looks up. Spoon paused mid stir. “Sorry?” She hadn’t heard what Maud said, she wasn’t listening, but can see Maud and Meg staring at her and waiting for a response.

  “You’ll be a beautiful queen, I said.”

  Elsie shrugs. “I honestly never thought about it until Meg said I was heir to the throne.”

  “It’ll be lovely to have some young blood on the throne, someone who isn’t stuck in their ways, someone who’s willing to listen.”

  “To listen to who?” Meg asks, showing Maud a cut out biscuit to check it’s big enough.

  Maud nods, pleased with Meg’s efforts. “Well, anyone I suppose. A good queen should listen and take heed. Don’t you think?”

  “I think it depends who has her ear.”

  Elsie watches Meg watching Maud. She’s never seen Meg bristle like this. She’s watching Maud with such a suspicious expression on her face.

  “I’ll definitely need trustworthy advisors, if it all goes well and I end up ruling,” she says. She already knows that Meg will be her most trusted and loyal advisor. “I know nothing about ruling a Kingdom.”

  “Exactly!” Maud passes them each a freshly cooked cake, and grins, pleased with Elsie’s answer. “Now if we eat what we want with a nice cuppa, we can take the rest around the houses. You’ll help, won’t you?”

  “Should she be going out?”

  Maud laughs, looking at Meg, amusement colouring her face. “You’re a right worrier, aren’t you? She’ll be just fine. Old Maud will look after the both of you. And then Hardy will come for his supper. He comes every night. And then you’ll sleep the sleep of the just.”

  Meg doesn’t answer, and Elsie watches her shoulders drop, the tension ease. She loves how much Meg worries about her, and there’s no way she’d want to do any of this without her by her side.

  Maud passes them each a hot drink and plonks into a chair, letting out a deep sigh. “Thank you, my lovelies. I usually do all this on my own.” She pats her belly. “And I eat it all on my own. And then I give out the food parcels on my own. Wait till you see the happiness this food brings people. Besides not much growing around here anymore, there’s too many that can’t work because the clippings have left them so ill.”

  “It’s so sad.”

  “It is. Ravaged the place they have. Those royal bastards. Excuse me for cursing, but they make me so angry. Roll on the rebellion, I say.”

  They sip their drinks in silence, nibbling on bread, meat and sweet cakes. It’s heaven for Elsie after the bland food of the castle. She could drink tea and eat cake forever, whether she was sitting on a throne with a crown on her head or not.

  Elsie watches Maud chatting to Meg and feels a rush of warmth course through her. It makes sense for Maud to worry about who will guide her as a new queen. What does she know about running a Kingdom? Nothing. And she will need good people on her side if she’s mending all the damage her step parents have done.

  “Maud, is there a way to fix wings that have been clipped? Can they grow back?”

  “Not that I’ve ever seen, lovely. You’d need a real talented healer for that kind of magic. Alyce is good in the castle, of course, though I’m not sure anyone would trust her. I hear that the one who lives with the troupe is good, but not good enough. If it could be done, it would be done by now.”

  “Why wouldn’t they trust Alyce?” Meg asks.

  Maud shakes her head. “Maybe they would, I don’t know, I’m just assuming, I mean, I...” She trails off, colour rising in her cheeks.

  “What is it, Maud? Why don’t people like Alyce?”

  Maud picks up a cloth and twists it, her expression awkward. “Listen, this is just some people, and definitely not me, but some people think anyone who lived or worked at the castle – except you two babies who were locked up – is complicit in this whole sorry state of affairs.”

  “What’s complicit?” Elsie asks, looking from Meg to Maud and back again. Meg looks halfway between furious and heartbroken.

  “What Meg?”

  Meg shakes her head, tears staining her face. “It means they think I’m to blame, that I condoned it or didn’t stop it.”

  “Oh, no, that’s not fair, Meg. Maud, who thinks this – not anyone who’s involved in the rebellion, surely?”

  Maud is silent. Meg is sobbing. Elsie is distraught.

  “Meg, if anybody thinks this – and they’re stupid if they do – I don’t. I know you couldn’t have helped me or saved me. It’s only because you were there with me, I got through it. I’d have died of loneliness and heartbreak if I’d been in there by myself. Please, Meg.”

  Meg refuses to look up, just sobs with her head in her hands. Elsie looks at Maud who shrugs and mouths the word, sorry.

  Elsie sighs. “Please, Meg. Look at me.”

  Meg looks up, face blotchy, sobs making her shudder. “I don’t think that. I know you did everything right by me. And if we meet anyone who thinks you’re in the wrong, then we’ll put them straight; I’ll put them straight. I love you – you’re my family, Meg.”

  Meg is still crying, and all Elsie can do is pat her on the back, wishing she’d never asked the stupid question about healing wings. It was a stupid question – if they could do it, someone would have done it by now. It can’t be done, nothing can be done, except kill her step parents and try to make amends for all the terrible things they’ve done during their reign of horror.

  “Hello!” Hardy calls out as he walks into the kitchen and takes in the scene. “Elsie, what’s happened?”

  Maud clears her throat. “It’s me – I upset her.”

  Hardy drapes an arm around his mum’s shoulders. “Ah, I’m sure you didn’t, don’t worry. What’s up Elsie?”

  “Your mum just mentioned how some peo
ple think anyone who lives at the castle is complicit in what’s happening in Allaire and what happened to me and my sister.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Well...”

  “Well what, you don’t believe that do you? Meg is my only friend, was my only friend in that place.”

  He takes a seat. “But she got to leave every week.”

  “And?”

  “Well, there’s some that say, think, believe that maybe she could have got help, or spirited you away from there.”

  “No!” Elsie is crying.

  Meg pushes her chair back, the scraping noise jarring all of them and making them wince. “It’s obvious what you think of me, Hardy. Well, do you know what I think? I think you’re just as complicit. It’s easy to say you want a rebellion and want to fight for change, but I don’t see you doing anything about it. The clippers are still clipping and Allaire is still being ruled by those two, and all I see from you is a load of puffing. I won’t stay where I’m so poorly thought of, Elsie. I’ll go to the troupe and you’re welcome to come with me. They don’t say mean things about me there.”

  Elsie takes her hand. “Meg, don’t leave, please.”

  “Come with me.”

  Elsie stands between Meg and Hardy, feeling every bit torn between the two.

  Meg humphs and turns away from Elsie, storming out of the house. “No, Meg, wait.”

  Elsie runs after her, but Hardy pulls her back. “Elsie, it’s not safe for you to go off-”

  Meg spins around. “You didn’t worry about that when you told her to leave the cabin, because you were in a huff, did you?”

  “Meg!”

  Meg shakes her head and throws open the front door. “I know where I’m not wanted.”

  Elsie follows her. “Meg, you’re my family, don’t leave me.”

  “Come with me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not? You’ve just met this man.”

  “But you know he’s helping me; I can’t do anything on my own.”

  “Please Elsie, come with me?”

  They fly between the houses, Elsie wishing Meg would stop and come back to the house, Meg refusing to slow down.

  “Just stop!” Elsie shouts, causing a few people to stare at them.

  Meg stops and faces her, tears coursing down her face. “What Elsie? Are you really going to choose him over me?”

  “It’s not a simple ‘him or you’ choice, Meg, please?”

  “What have we here?”

  They both spin around to face the owner of the unfamiliar voice, and fear fills Elsie from head to toe, turning her entire body icy. He’s a castle guard, clothed in the familiar livery she remembers from her childhood. The guards then were honourable men, who would slip her an extra cake or make her laugh with a magic trick. They weren’t clippers. Or jailers.

  She grabs hold of Meg and makes to fly off, but the guard grabs hold of both of them, his strength rooting them to the ground. He calls out, and another clipper joins him.

  “Ooh some pretty wings. Thanks Ed, you know I love to clip pretty wings off pretty girls.”

  “You’re welcome Sid.”

  Elsie screams and struggles, and Meg does the same. All the fairies who were near have vanished, and as Elsie’s eyes dart around looking for help, she sees the shutters close on the houses and the lights inside go out. A deathly silence fills the streets, the only sound her screams and Meg’s sobs.

  The clipper called Sid grabs hold of Meg and Elsie closes her eyes. They have no hope of escaping, not now they are each being held onto by a clipper. They might have struggled free while it was two against one, but now?

  Elsie takes a deep breath and screams as loud as possible, so she hurts her throat: “HARDY!”

  “Don’t tell me you’re friends with that hoodlum?”

  “All the more reason to clip them,” Sid says, leering at Meg and licking the side of her face, making her cry even harder.

  “Please, let us go, we don’t want any trouble.”

  They both laugh. “You might not want it pretty, but you’ve got it. Trouble walks these streets and if you’re from round here you know it.”

  “What the heck are you doing walking the streets by yourselves? Asking for trouble the pair of you.”

  “Asking for it.”

  “We’re not from here, we had no idea it wasn’t safe. Take pity, please, let us go?”

  “Ah, you’re just visiting, came for the wonderful shopping, did you?”

  They both crack up and Elsie twists and turns again, helplessly looking for, searching for help off anyone.

  “Liars the pair of you. If you were just visiting, you wouldn’t know Hardy – damn thorn in our side he is. Killed too many dutiful men.”

  “I don’t like liars.”

  “Me neither. Which one shall we clip first?”

  Elsie feels her stomach turn and drop and isn’t sure if she’ll faint. They will be clipped. She has no idea what to do.

  “Stop. You can’t clip us. I’m the royal princess, Elsie, don’t you recognise a member of your own royal family?”

  Again, they both burst out laughing. “She’s a joker. We know the princess just left for her marriage across the seas.”

  “Lucky fella who ends up with her. She’ll be desperate for some company after being locked up for so long.”

  Elsie closes her eyes so she can’t see their crude and lewd gestures. There is no hope. They’ll be clipped, and then what will become of them?

  Ed spits on the floor. “Do you know what, clipping is too good for the likes of you. Clipping means you get to sleep in your beds tonight. Liars make me angry.”

  Elsie shakes her head. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I panicked, please don’t hurt us or clip us or-”

  Ed tightens his hold on her. “Shut it.” He nods at Sid. “You go first. Show this little one how it’s done.”

  Meg is pleading now, and the cries and begging from her and Elsie overlap and echo in the quiet streets.

  Ed slaps Meg so hard that she falls silent, only whimpering. Elsie still pleads.

  But the clippers aren’t listening. “This is how you do it.” Sid takes hold of his blunt and rusty dagger, and before Elsie can let out a sound, he saws across Meg’s slender neck.

  Elsie goes limp, causing her clipper to drop her to the floor. He curses and gathers her up, but she is screaming and screaming and screaming. The noise doesn’t sound human; it sounds feral.

  Meg is dead.

  16

  ELSIE CLOSES HER EYES, blocking out the sight of her best friend, her only friend, her confidant and nurse maid – her everything for as long as she can remember. If she doesn’t look, it won’t be true, if she cannot see Meg’s lifeless body, the river of blood, then it doesn’t count, Meg will be all right.

  She cannot live without Meg. Meg is her only constant.

  Don’t look, don’t think, don’t look, don’t think, don’t look, don’t think.

  Refuse to accept it.

  “Elsie!” Someone is shaking her, and she knows it’s the clipper, and maybe that is the only blessing in this situation; she will join Meg.

  “She’s in shock, love her. Quick lift her up, carry her.”

  “Elsie!”

  “Just grab her.”

  Elsie opens her eyes. It’s Hardy holding onto her this time, not the clipper. Maybe she’s dreaming, maybe she’s already dead. She doesn’t even care. Without Meg, nothing matters. She closes her eyes again.

  Although she’s refusing to look, she cannot block out the words being spoken around her and tears silently fall down her face. Meg is dead. Hardy thought she’d taken too long to bring Meg back to the house and looked for them. He had knocked out both clippers and carried her to safety. His mother is fussing. And Meg is dead.

  Meg is dead. On the street. Like a dog.

  Her eyes fly open. “Hardy! Get Meg!”

  “Elsie, Meg is dead, I’m sorry, I was too late.”

  “Her body. We
can’t leave her on the street.”

  “I don’t know what to do-”

  “Of course, my lovely girl. Don’t listen to Hardy. We’ll send the neighbours boys to fetch her. I’ll pop her in the garden. We can decide what to do later.”

  Elsie closes her eyes again. She can’t bring Meg back, but she can’t leave her on the street either. It’s too much. She wails again, sobs again, and repeats Meg’s name over and over and over.

  “We need to get her some help.”

  “Calista?”

  “No, Bronwen. From the troupe. We need to tell Gwenna what’s happened.”

  “I’ll go. Look after her, mum.”

  Elsie drifts in and out of sleep. She’s physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted from grief and shock. She can tell Maud is sitting by her, smoothing her hair, and it’s a comfort and a distraction. She cannot live without Meg.

  Voices wake her up and the first thing she does is cry. Bronwen kneels beside her, cradles her head and gently pours liquid into her mouth. Elsie swallows it, coughs a bit, and then allows Bronwen to help her sit up. She feels worse than wretched.

  Hardy, Bronwen, Maud and Gwenna are all staring at her, concern etched on their faces.

  Gwenna wipes her eyes. “What happened? Why was she outside?”

  Elsie sobs. “We had a fight. I don’t even remember... Hardy?” She looks distraught that she can’t remember, but she can’t. Her head is full of screaming and her vision is swimming when she tries to focus on anyone’s face. She’s sure she will faint.

  “It wasn’t a fight, Elsie, Meg just wanted to visit her sister, and you wanted her to stay, that’s all. It’s not a clipping night.”

  “I wouldn’t have let either of them go outside if it was,” Maud says, blowing her nose loudly into her handkerchief.

  “I know.” Gwenna nods absentmindedly, fiddling with the beads on her bracelet. “Where is she? Meg?”

  “In the garden, under the blossom tree.”

  “I’d like to take her, Elsie, if I can? We have a place where we bury our loved ones. We always know where they are then.”

  Elsie nods, not that it’s up to her. “I’m so sorry, Gwenna.”