36. Chapter 36

Chapter thirty-six

I t’s our second day of walking and my spirits are still high. Sleeping on the hard ground was no hardship at all, with Mabon in my arms. The warm weight of him was wonderful. His incredible scent was soothing. I’ve given up trying to identify it. It’s simply Mabon and all things good.

I’m gazing at him soppily and I don’t care. He is a few steps in front of me, and there is no one to see my daft expression. Even if there was, I don’t think I’d mind.

Mabon stops walking suddenly and bends down. He picks up a small white pebble. He cleans it off on his jeans and holds it up to the pale winter sunlight. A noise of appreciation purrs out of him and he puts it in his pocket with his other treasures. Then he resumes walking as if nothing happened.

I smile fondly and shake my head. He is such a magpie.

He stops again. This time at a rickety-looking stile leading to an open field. His shoulders tense. I step up next to him on the narrow path.

“What is it?” I can’t see anything amiss.

“Cows,” he whispers in horror.

I crane my neck and peer into the field. “They are right at the other end.”

Mabon doesn’t move.

“They are busy eating grass. They won’t even notice us,” I say.

He continues to stare at them. Like they are terrifying and dangerous beasts. Do they not have cows in the fey home world?

I hoist myself over the stile and step into the field. It’s a few hundred metres to the woods on the other side and the gate that I presume we are heading towards.

I turn around to give Mabon a hand, but I’m just in time to see him flow effortlessly over it. He lands silently and gives me a worried, anxious look. I give him my best reassuring smile and stride confidently forward. If he needs me to protect him from cows, then I am happy to oblige.

Mabon stays close behind me as we make our way across the field. We are about halfway now and the most treacherous thing is the mud.

Suddenly, a deep rumble sound shakes the ground. What the hell is that? I look up. Oh my god. The entire herd of cows are running straight towards us. That’s a lot of cows. And they are a lot bigger than I realised. We are going to be trampled to death.

“Run!” I yell as I reach back and grab Mabon’s hand.

I run as fast as I can. For one heart stopping moment, I slip on the mud and nearly lose my balance, but I manage to stay upright and keep going. Maybe I should release Mabon’s hand and push him in front of me, I’m pretty sure he is far faster than I am.

But the gate is close now. It looks like we are going to make it. I haul myself over it but my foot gets stuck and I fall, landing in a sprawl on my back, on top of my rucksack.

I’m still holding Mabon’s hand and I pull him down with me. He lands on top of me. All the air rushes out of my lungs. We stare at each other. Inches away, the cows huff and puff at the gate. Their hoofs stamp on the ground.

“I told you cows get angry,” Mabon says solemnly.

“You did,” I agree. “I guess they don’t like fey?”

Or maybe cows are always like that. I’m a city boy, what the hell do I know? But he nods, so maybe I am right.

Mabon’s eyes are wide. He is staring at me intently. He is a warm weight on top of me and his lips are inches away. I simply cannot resist. It’s impossible. I lift my head up and close the distance between us.

His lips are so soft. His little moan sinks into my soul and becomes a part of me. He kisses me back with a passion that curls my toes. Kissing Mabon feels so right. It feels like home and I could do it forever.

But we have a long journey ahead of us and enemies to evade. Reluctantly, I break away. He lifts himself off of me with the grace of a dancer, and I haul myself to my feet.

I brush myself off and don’t find any damage. I look at Mabon to check he is okay, and then I gasp.

“Your horns!”

Jet black and gleaming. Curling back against his purple hair. His horns are there as if they were never gone.

A beautiful blush spreads across Mabon’s cheeks and his fingers brush over his horns.

“They are annoying and sometimes uncomfortable, so I don’t always feel like having them.”

I stare at him. “I thought the Resistance took them.” I never knew they were a part of him. I thought they were fake, an ornament that can be taken off and on. Like a crown.

Mabon looks down. “They did. In a way.”

Concern rolls through me, and I place my hand on his shoulder.

“Horns are annoying, and I don’t always use them. That is true,” he insists. “But they are also hard to…” he trails off and pauses. His hands lift up and mime horns emerging from his head. “Manifest? Is that the word? They are difficult to manifest if I am feeling sad.”

I don’t know what to say. I really don’t. I have no words for this. So I pull him into a hug instead. He snuggles into me, and my heart skips with joy. He is feeling better now. Healing from the trauma of what he suffered at the hands of the Resistance. I caused his pain, but I’m also succeeding in making amends.

“They suit you,” I say.

“They don’t make me look too not human?”

The anxiety in his voice makes my stomach twist into a knot. He feels a need to change his appearance to please me? It’s wonderful that he likes me that much, and terrible that he feels so insecure. Mabon is perfect, wonderful and divine. Insecurity should not exist anywhere in his heart, soul, or mind.

“I love that you’re not human.”

He goes still in my arms. “Really?”

“Really.”

He pulls away from me and gives me a pleased grin. Then he preens like a peacock. I chuckle warmly.

“Come on, let’s keep moving.”

T he motorway is huge. Looming above us at the top of an extremely steep embankment. The roar of the passing traffic is nearly deafening.

“I didn’t know it would be so big,” says Mabon as he glares at it with his hands on his hips. “I thought it would be easy to cross.

I sigh wearily and sit on the ground. I’m tired. My feet hurt. Finding a way over the motorway could take miles and miles of more walking.

Mabon looks down at me and bites his bottom lip. He looks as fresh as a daisy. Lucky bastard.

“You truly like that I’m fey?”

Where has this come from? Is it still on his mind? I thought I had succeeded in reassuring him.

“Yes,” I say confidently.

He stares at me for a moment. Then he nods decisively. Then he starts taking his clothes off. My eyebrows rise. This wasn’t exactly the type of rest break I was thinking of, but I’m not going to complain. Mabon has cured me of that.

He stands before me naked and I greedily drink in the sight. It’s a view I’m never going to get tired of. I blink, and now I’m looking at a magpie.

I yelp and scramble backwards, my ass and hands flailing on the ground. The magpie squawks at me, ruffles its wings, and then takes to the air. I watch until it is out of sight. Then I just stare blankly at the sky. I’m far too shocked to do anything else.

I have no idea if it is minutes or hours later, but the magpie returns. It lands on the pile of Mabon’s clothes and then suddenly it is Mabon standing before me. Naked and awe-inspiring.

“There is a tunnel under it, only a mile that way,” he says as he points behind me.

My mind is still not functioning. I’m sitting here, gaping like a fish.

“What?” asks Mabon.

A laugh bubbles up inside of me. It is too strong to contain. It flows up and out of me. It shakes my shoulders. It makes my eyes water.

“I knew you were a magpie!”

Mabon’s eyes narrow and he crosses his arms over his chest.

“It’s a good thing!” I wheeze.

His fury dims to suspicion. I wipe the tears from my eyes and try to calm down.

“Can you shift into anything else?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Magpie is my isbryd animal.”

I don’t know if he has slipped into speaking fey and my translator can’t cope with that word, or if Mabon is using English but is unable to find the right word. But it doesn’t matter. I get the idea. Magpie is his spirit animal and it makes so much sense. In so very many different ways.

The love of shiny things. The fierce confidence. The preening. The bright keen intelligence.

“I knew it,” I say with a warm smile.

Mabon’s shoulders relax and he returns my smile. As he starts putting his clothes back on, a thought strikes me.

“Why don’t you fly back to London? I’m guessing the magic it takes to shift is undetectable?”

He wouldn’t have risked it otherwise. He is far too canny to take unnecessary risks.

Mabon zips up his black hoodie. “The native birds aren’t any more keen about invaders than humans are. Or cows.”

He turns his back to me as he picks up his rucksack. “And it would mean leaving you behind.”

Did he really just say that last part? Or am I hearing things? Hearing exactly what I want to hear? Because the thought of him flying off and leaving me is awful. Even though I should want nothing more than his safety.

He gives me an innocent, guileless look as he waits for me. I smile and haul myself to my feet. I’m still smiling as I follow him.

I think I would follow him anywhere. To the ends of the world. Anywhere. Just as long as he allows me to.