Chapter 15

  When I awoke the next day it was late, the streets lights outside spilling light through the gaps of the curtains. I was still on the sofa, tucked up inside the blanket that Mum had so nicely wrapped me up in the day before. My clothes that I had slept in were sticky and sweaty, my hair plastered to my head with it.

  I stretch, feeling my shoulders pop and my neck had a pain in it from sleeping in an odd angle for so long, I felt great other than a slight stinging sensation from my eye. I could hear the banging and clanging of pots and pans interjected occasionally by a soft hum. A delicious smell was wafting from the kitchen into the small living room and for a second I was transported back to when I was a kid, coming home from school and smelling the aroma of whatever deletable meal Mum had decided to cook that day until it all came crashing down around me as I came back to reality, shattering the memory like a broken glass. My heart twinged and I longed to go back to simpler times, before being mixed up in all this magic nonsense. I know I had dreamt of being magic, but this – this was too much I think. I only wanted to be a little magic, not enemy-of-the-state level magic.

  Getting up stiffly from the sofa, I head into the other room stopping at the threshold before plodding to the fridge, the sizzling of the pan filling the room and masking my steps. It’s not like I didn’t want to talk to my mum, I just wasn’t ready for the heartbreak if this turned out to be all a trick of my mind. I grab the orange juice and drink it straight from the carton.

  “Veylyn” Mrs Garrett scolded, her back still turned to me as she busied herself flipping and seasoning the meat in front of her “use a glass please”

  I jumped, almost choking, sloshing orange juice down my front and on the floor. “How the heck did you know I was here?” I exclaimed while spluttering, recovering a little from my coughing fit.

  “Please Veylyn, I am your mother, we all have eyes in the back of our heads – surely you know that by now?” she turned and flashed me a kind and knowing smile before returning her attention back to the oven hobs. “Did you sleep well? Food will be ready soon if you could set the table for me please, Love”

  “I slept alright thanks. Do I have enough time to shower? I smell like my PE kit from year eight after I accidentally left it in my locker during the summer holidays” I ask as I crumple my nose both at the memory and at the smell of me. I must have sweated a lot more than I normally do. I ponged and it had the strangest hint of seafood to it.

  Horrific and curious all rolled into one. Perhaps it was a side effect of using all that magic? Or maybe it was because I had an ex-god of the sea living within me. Who knows?

  Mum laughed “Alright, but make it quick. Otherwise I’m running the taps down here and freezing your arse out the shower” She waved me away with her spatula and I rolled my eye as I head out she calls my name and I pop my head back into the room “try not to get the patch wet, I’ll clean your eye and change your dressings once you’re out alright?”

  Once I was out the shower (after rudely having the water turn ice cold on me after ten minutes) and dressed I made my way downstairs, my mouth salivating at the mouth-watering smell coming from the kitchen. I follow my nose, trying not to drool and grab cutlery to set the table.

  “This smells amazing, Mum. What are we having?” I ask as I place down knives and forks

  “Just a little something that I threw together, there was some pork at the back of the freezer that I found and few vegetables.” she replied casually as she starts dishing up onto some plates “You don’t have much in at the moment so I’ll have to go out and grab something from the supermarket at some point this week.”

  I raise my eyebrow at this “You sure you’re alright going out? I mean what if someone recognises you?”

  She waves my worry away with a hand “Don’t worry, it’s been six years. Besides, I never had many friends to begin with, you know I much prefer animals to humans, so the chances of someone recognising me are slim.”

  This did little to curb my unease. The chances are slim but no none. So what if she was spotted? What if she was recognised?

  “But-”

  “No buts,” she interrupts “I will hear nothing more on the subject as of right now, come grab your plate and eat your dinner before it gets cold. I’ll change your patch afterwards, alright?”

  I sigh but take my plate from her with a thank you and make my way to my seat.

  I was joined at the table shortly after and the feeling of sitting opposite my dead-but-not-really-dead mum hit me like a tonne of bricks, tears started to well up in my eyes but I pushed it down, reminding myself of the promise I made to myself. Emotions had gotten me into this mess and I was never going to let that happen again, but not before Mum had spotted me. Her face instantly filled with concern.

  “What’s wrong, baby? Are you alright?” her soft voice comforting as she drops her fork to hold my hand.

  I nod and clear my throat “Yeah..Yeah. I just-” I internally curse myself for how weak my voice sounded and how it cracked in places. My mask had slipped and had let out what I was hiding beneath. I clear my throat once again, my voice stronger now and my mask back in place. “Just never thought I’d be sitting across from you again. Just weird – but a good weird.” I flash her a tiny smile as she squeezed my hand in response.

  “Me too, I dreamt of this. It’s just a shame your mother isn’t here. It would have been perfect” she sighed, picking her fork up. I saw her eyes glance at the clock on the wall.

  My mood turned sour “Yeah well, she’s not exactly present at the moment. Since this whole thing went down, you would have thought that she’d have popped in and made sure I’m OK, right?” I grumble, stabbing a potato with my fork before grumpily shoving it in my mouth “I mean – if anyone was supposed to teach me magic that would help me it would have been her, surely? Instead, you’ve had to risk your cover to protect me. For Gods sake you’re supposed to be dead!” I rant through a mouthful of potatoes, earning me a scorn, I quickly swallow before talking again “Like I said when you first turned up, she’s probably too busy shagging that troll in heels to care about what’s going on”

  “That is enough!” Mrs Garrett snapped, her voice hard and her eyes held a fury in them I had rarely seen. “I understand that you are under a lot of pressure but that is no excuse to bad mouth your mother that way. You have no idea what she might be doing up in that castle, for all you know she could be trying to lead them away from you some how. I know my wife and I know she would never betray you like that. Now finish eating your dinner so I can change your dressing.”

  I mumble out a yes mum and dinner was eaten in silence after that, dotted only by the sound of cutlery on plates and the soft chewing of food.

  I had expected mum to be rough with changing my dressing, like Ragneth had been when we had argued. Although the argument had been over, Ragneth had the unhealthy habit of staying mad, she was by no means unkind, just less gentle than normal. But Mum was just as soft as ever, even pausing to dab the patch with warm water when I had winced, loosening the sticky plaster so it would pull at my skin less. It still stung like a bitch, but less so.

  As she was cleaning the wound, she spoke softly, letting out a tiny sigh before she did “Veylyn, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you, I know you’re dealing with a lot right now and it’s normal to lash out – especially at someone who you expect to be there and isn’t.”

  “No Mum, you’re right,” I mumble, not meeting her eye as I admitted to being wrong. I hated being wrong, it was embarrassing. “I have no idea what Ma could be doing right now, for all I know, she’s the reason why I haven’t been caught so far.” I sighed, exasperation bubbling up in my chest, I clench my fists to try and stop the feeling, nails digging into my palms. “It’s just- frustrating. You know?”

  Tears started welling up in my eyes. Were they from anger? Frustration? From being overwhelmed? All of the above? I didn’t know and that only made the tears fall faster “And now that I have everything resting on my shoulders I feel like I’m drowning” I angrily swiped the tears from my face before I was pulled into a bone crushing hug.

  “Oh, sweetie,” Her voice muffled from her hug as she placed a kiss on the top of my head, just like she had done to me when I was a child. It was nice. Comforting. “I’m so sorry you have to go through this and I wish that there was more that I could do, but just know that both me and Lucan have your back, no matter what happens. I love you, and I know Lucan cares for you as well.”

  I sniffle before mumbling “You’re going soft Mum, bet your husbands are rolling in their graves. Who knew all it took to crack that tough exterior was a kid?” I chuckle, but it’s watery and weak as I receive a light slap on the back and a scoff.

  “Don’t push it you, my track record shows I’m not to be messed with – by men or by Gods” I could hear the smile in her tone

  I let out a huff, close to a laugh but too shaky and quiet to cover up my weakness. I push my head into her shoulder as I wrap my arms around her, her warmth radiating through my body, grounding me. My life boat in the middle of the shit-storm sea.

  “Mum…” I have words, they’re on the tip of my tongue but my throat won’t form them, I hear a hum in response.

  “I’m.. I’m glad you’re here. I don’t think I would have been able to do this alone” I admit quietly, barely audible and muffled by the hug. Tears threaten to fall again but I push them back down.

  The time for tears was over. It was time for action.

  Mum squeezed me tighter and I could have sworn I felt a rib creak “You’ll never be alone, baby”

  There was a small silence until I broke off the hug, thankful that I was allowed to stand there, embraced for as long as I needed. It had been a while since I had been hugged like that and although I wasn’t much of a hugger with everyone else, Mum definitely didn’t count. Her hugs were comforting, they made me believe that everything would be alright, that I could let go and be swept up in the rapids without the fear of going under, where as others made me feel claustrophobic, trapped within my own weakness and their overburdening natures. Forced and unnatural.

  “Let me finish sorting you out and then how about we practice a bit of healing magic? I know you said you were interested” Mum asked

  I nod then add “I’d like that, but before you put the new patch on, do we have any that aren’t cotton? It makes my eye itch. It’s been driving me crazy” it was true, the whole time the patch had been on I had the niggling, nagging itch that couldn’t be scratched under the patch

  “Let me see what we have, I may have to put something together but I’m sure I’ll come up with something.” Mum replied having a rummage around in the first aid box she had brought out with her to fix my eye.

  “Please do, it’s driving me crazy. And I really don’t need a mental breakdown over an eyepatch on top of everything else” I joke with a light chuckle

  With the eyepatch eventually sorted, and the itchiness a mere memory now, I was excited to start learning healing magic. I was fully rested and ready to have a spell that I could use outside of battles. It was still frustrating that I never even thought about having a healing spell in my arsenal until it was too late.

  Mum and I stood facing each other in Ragneth’s office, I nervously shifted my weight from foot to foot, eager to start. Noticing my constant movement Mum smiled “Relax Veylyn, healing magic is not like the other magic you’ve been studying.”

  I tilt my head. It wasn’t?“As you know, magic is alive” she began, hands on her hips as she relaxed “Now, with the magic you’ve been accustomed to, you’re using things like power to dominate it, healing magic is completely different.” turning to face the desk, she picked up a small, dead flower. Holding it with one hand, she waved her other hand slowly over the top, and I watched in awe as the plant slowly started regaining colour, its dead brown leaves and stalk turned bright green and its dull petals started to almost shine in the glow of her hand, as if the life was suddenly pouring back into it. “To master this, you have to show it compassion, serenity. You’re trying to put something back together rather than break it. People struggle with healing magic because mending things is so much harder than breaking them” I nod along, trying to take in everything she said. I watch as she put the plant back on the desk gently, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth. She held out a second, dead plant “Your turn. Just breathe and relax, let your emotions float through you”

  I frown, my emotions? The last time I had let my ‘emotions float through me’ it had nearly ended in disaster. But I was determined to at least try. These spells were important to master.

  I close my eyes, carrying the plant in my left hand, holding my right over it. I tried to focus on that calm feeling, the ‘serenity’ feeling Mum had spoken about but my mind was bombarded with questions and self doubt. My frown deepens as I tried to push away the thoughts, but they wouldn’t leave. My brain filled with ifs and buts, never ceasing to fill me with doubt. I let out a frustrated growl as I try to shake my head clear, redoubling my efforts.

  But what if I couldn’t show compassion?

  But what if I was incapable of serenity? What if that kind of peace is cut off from me now?

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  If I can’t do this what kind of person does that make me?

  Does it mean I’m only capable of destruction, was that my destiny? Destroy but never re-build?

  The thoughts were insistent and nagging.

  This is impossible!

  I open my eyes in annoyance “I can’t do it! It’s like I’m not even capable of doing magic so- so- soft! Clearly, I’m only able to turn things to dust!”

  “You are not incapable of anything, baby. You’ve just been dealing with different types of magic. You’re used to magic that tries to fight you back, you’re used to having to wrestle yourself and the magic to get it under control. Just take a breathe, slowly. Let out all that frustration and try one more time for me, if that doesn’t work, there may be another way to do it but it won’t be as strong.” she reassured softly as she lent against the desk, arms crossed and her feet crossed at the ankles.

  I let out a deep sigh as my eyes flutter closed. Raising my right hand over the plant once again. I try to relax my body as I remind myself that I don’t need to be on edge, waiting for that moment I needed to power through and take control. I willed myself to try and dispel the tightness in my shoulders and the anxiety in my heart but nothing worked.

  How was I supposed to be calm and serene when I have a literal ex-god attached to me, clawing at my mind and waiting for the perfect opportunity to rise like the angry waves he once controlled? If I relax completely what was stopping him from coming to the surface?No. Healing magic was not going to work for me. I was completely unable to master this type of magic. I was too much of high risk to even consider it. I was too destructive.

  I slump my shoulders in defeat “It’s not going to work, Mum. How can I show compassion and serenity like you said when I’m one bad decision and mental breakdown from releasing a terrifying ex-ocean god on the world?”

  Mum took the plant from my hand gently and wrapped me up in a hug, I rested my head on her shoulder, breathing in her comforting smell. “Veylyn, you are more than this monster, remember what the Gods said? They’ve weakened him, you have nothing to worry about now. Just because you have this creature attached to you, doesn’t mean you’re a monster too”

  But was she right? There were times in my life that I looked back on and wondered if perhaps I had been a monster, a freak even before the magic. The flashes of dark thoughts that speared my mind when I got angry at someone? Or the random impulses of hurting those who bullied me back in school. Was this the beast’s influence or was this really, truly, me? The emotionless mask I placed over myself, was it to protect myself like I always believed? Or was it to protect others from me? Ever since the beast was revealed, I’ve felt less like myself then I ever have.

  “Mum, I turn things to dust, quite literally but you’re expecting me to raise something from the ashes, like some sort of phoenix, but all I ever do is burn the world around me. You say I am more than the monster, but am I? The beast and me have been together as one since my birth. Perhaps I am more of a monster than you care to believe” I confess, refusing to break the hug as I mumble my speech into her ear softly.

  “You are no monster, Veylyn so don’t ever think like that again. You’re flawed, yes but not monstrous. Everyone has flaws, it’s what makes us human” she pulled away and held my hands in her own, they were warm, a contrast to my cold ones. Her touch made me feel safe. Loved. “Try the spell one more time, but this time, I want you to use that big, academic brain of yours and think of it logically. Imagine its cells, their compositions. Use what you’re good at to your advantage.”

  she handed me the dead plant once again and I look at her sadly, it would never work, but I had to try, even if it was just to make her happy.

  With the plant in one hand, I observe it, noticing the brown leaves and imagine myself replacing the dead cells with live ones, refilling the chloroplasts, repairing holes in the cell walls like I was a builder fixing a brick wall. My mind flying back to my biology lessons in school. I listed off all the things I could remember that lived in a plant cell, like its cell membrane, mitochondrion, the nucleus. Everything. I pictured the diagram I had painstakingly studied my GCSE years.

  My hand glowed dimly and the colour started coming back to the plant but it was gradual, and slow moving. Excitement roused within me as I watched the plant slowly come back to life. The stalk growing tall and the petals turning white as if blossoming in spring. I was doing it – Healing magic! I could hear mum clapping and offering words of praise as I worked but all I could focus on was the plant, feeling the heat from my hand encasing the plant in it’s protection.

  Eventually, the plant was fully healed, and I placed it gently on the desk next to mum’s, walking as if it would wither and die at any moment. It’s colour was bright but not as bright as Mum’s which seemed to almost give off it’s own light. I had done it, but I was half expecting it to burst into flames, a sick reminder of the type of person I was, but it never did, it stood there, tall and fully bloomed. Alive and healed.

  Perhaps there was hope for me after all.

  I stood staring at the plant for what seemed like an eternity, unbelieving that I was capable of really fixing something that seemed so far gone – that I was able to be so gentle. Mum’s soft voice roused me from my thoughts, “I’m going to go out and get stuff for the rest of the week, may as well go sooner rather than later. I’ll even pick up your favourite desert for you.” she added with a wide smile. She spoke up once again, concern lacing her tone when I didn’t respond, too engrossed in my miracle to reply “Will you be alright on your own, baby? If you want to practice more healing magic while I’m out, our garden has plenty of dead flowers in it, so take your pick” she joked. Then, almost as an afterthought, she added “Lucan’s phone number is on the side if anything happens or if you get bored and just want to annoy the boy”

  I nod my head absently, still lost in my thoughts “Yeah, I’ll be alright. Be careful out there. You never know who is watching.” I say, the warning leaving my lips before I could stop it, almost automatic, my voice monotonous and dull as my brain settles, calm, but detached, like the aftermath of a ripple on a pond.

  I barely registered the door clicking softly as she left, it was a few moments later that I heard the front door slam shut, the sound snapping me from my disassociation. I thought about what Mum had said before she left and decide to give healing magic another try, to make sure it wasn’t just a fluke, that I could really do it. I had to prove it to myself.

  I stood at the back door that opened out to our back garden, I looked around at the houses, making sure there were no pry eyes from nosey neighbours looking out who could potentially spot me and set the Binders on me. Thankfully after a few careful checks, the coast was clear.

  Our back garden had been nice once, beautiful even. Mrs Garrett had filled the garden with various multicoloured pots with all these different types of flowers, she had a knack of getting flowers to bloom just right in a multitude of colours and the lawn was always mowed and free from weeds. It was a haven for bees and other insects in the spring, and with Mrs Garrett’s ability to control animals we’d also receive the occasional visit from foxes or rabbits too.

  But not any more. It was less of a garden and more of a floral graveyard, the lawn was long over due a mow, littered now with weeds and brambles hid in the darkened corners waiting patiently for their next victim to become ensnared. The flowers were all dead. The rusted birdbath could be seen at the bottom of the garden, it’s basin cracked and the water had long since dried up – save the rain that fell. The stones at the base of it were covered in some sort of moss.

  I tried at least, to mow the lawn at least a few times a year when it was desperately needed, since Ragneth was never home to do so but the flowers weren’t so lucky. I replaced them now and again but they always died even when I tried my hardest to keep them alive. A sign if I had ever seen one, but maybe… just maybe, that was about to change?

  Plucking a chipped, dull, purple pot from the embarrassingly abundant amount of dead plants, I observed the latest attempt I had tried to keep alive. This pot I had tried to fill with some sort of tulip but right now it just looked depressing, a sad, shrivelled mess. Wilting and brown, even the soil was hard and dried. I inwardly cringe at the thought of Mum seeing her beloved garden in the state that it was in.

  I scurry back inside, sighing sadly as I enter the house. My comfortable prison. It’s funny how quickly a safe space could start feeling like a jail cell. I never thought I would miss going outside, even just for something mundane like food shopping, but it was starting to get to me. I was stuck between the same four walls and I yearned for the ability to just be able to step outside and gaze up at the stars. They’re always there, no matter what happens, they are vast and unchanging in the sky – an idea that had brought me a feeling of safety and comfort since before I can remember.

  Trudging back up to the office I set myself on my task, determined to heal the plant… and myself, if I could.

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  The security cameras were stationed on street corners and lampposts like digital sentinels. They blinked and whirred as they scanned the faces of the crowds, each face documented and cross-checked against the Kingdom’s citizen database. Their name, date of birth and occupation all checked and rechecked in seconds by an incredibly powerful computer system.

  The database housed fingerprints, national insurance codes and criminal records for every citizen in the city. Each citizen legally had to declare their facial data, fingerprints and national insurance code to the system on the day of their nineteenth birthday. Allowing the city’s surveillance network to track and verify them at a moment’s notice – a key factor that allowed the city to have an almost impossibly low crime rate. However, crime has a way of slipping through the cracks which is why the Queen decided to station undercover operatives of her police force around the city, well trained and incredibly observant, permanently linked to the system that could be accessed at any time. It also notified them of any potential threats that may cause havoc around the city.

  A small, somewhat plump woman walked under the camera, her head lowered slightly and her hair was down to cover her face as naturally as possible, it looked crimped, like it had been up for hours and only recently let down. The camera, clicking and whirling, tried to read her face couldn’t get a good look at her features to cross reference. It moved on to the next person,

  The woman’s shoulders relaxed as she turned a corner, crossing the road opposite a small coffee shop and out of the watchful eye of the CCTV camera, the dropping of her shoulders was almost imperceivable. She checked over her shoulder, looking to see if she had been followed but the coast was clear. She carried on with the rest of her tasks with confidence, so sure that she had done well to not be perceived by anyone.

  What she didn’t see was the man sitting outside the coffee shop, head buried in a magazine, who, for all intents and purposes looked like he was reading it, eyes scanning left and right like the topic was interesting but in reality, he was clocking the members of the public that walked past him. He had spotted the woman as soon as she had stepped into view and had noticed everything. He got up to follow, his own movements natural as not to alert suspicion, even from members of the public, not just his target.

  Inside the supermarket, the woman had acquired a trolley and was going about her shop as if nothing was wrong. The clicking of her sensible heels kept in time with the rattling of the trolley wheels as they moved across the linoleum. She stopped in the tinned goods aisle, humming softly to herself as she perused the shelves. Grabbing a tin and reading the label before placing it in her trolley. To everyone around her she was just someone shopping, maybe a mother or a wife providing for her family.

  But to him, she was a potential.

  The operative kept his movements natural, scanning the shelves but always keeping her in his line of sight. Pulling out his phone, he thumbed a quick message following the code that had been driven into him since basic training:

  Check – camera #325. Woman, 40s, glasses, brown hair – down. Chequered dress and black cardigan.

  He hit send and slipped his phone back into his pocket, picking up a random item off the shelf, pretending to ponder it then replaced it back on the shelf with a tiny shake of the head. The check wouldn’t take long. He just needed to act natural until he got his reply.

  What her and the other shoppers didn’t know was that the supermarket’s cameras – perched in plain sight and always watching – were linked directly into the surveillance network. The second anyone entered the shop their image had already been scanned and cross-reference before they even had a chance of stepping across the welcome mat. Most people assume that they were only there to act as deterrents against shop lifters, the “SMILE, YOU’RE ON CAMERA” sign stuck to the inside of the automatic glass door reinforced that idea. They were wrong.

  Barely twenty seconds since he had pocketed his phone, it buzzed. A reply.

  It had come quicker than he had expected and his eyes widening as he read the notification that appeared on his screen. Identification successful. Flag triggered. System malfunction?He frowned, his carefully constructed cover cracking. System malfunction? Impossible. The system had never had a problem in all the years it had been active – the Queen ensured that. Opening his phone and clicking the link that had been sent to real time steaming of the camera she was currently stood in front of while she idly compared foodstuffs, he watched as her face was outlined by the system, a digital box appearing next to her head containing all the information on her in clean capitals. High definition compared to the grainy appearance of the cameras.

  EVALINENA GARRETT

  DOB: 14/05/1966

  NI:332776

  Occ: DECEASED

  The whole box flashed red in warning. Pulsing at an almost frantic pace.

  The operative was stood rooted to the spot, glued to his phone as he read and reread the words in front of him. The system did not make mistakes, the Queen made sure of that. To doubt the system was to doubt the Queen.

  But here she was, this woman – Garrett, was alive, breathing, and shopping in the city’s cheapest supermarket.

  Regaining his composure, he tightened his grip on his phone before quickly typing out a message. His hands shaking slightly.

  Immediate response required.

  Ending with the co-ordinates of his location, the operative sent off the text and slipped back into his role. The team would get here in under five minutes. His potential was no longer just a hunch. She was a threat and now, the hunt had begun for real.