11. Twelve Maeve

CHAPTER ELEVEN

TWELVE: MAEVE

" K elly, it's me, again. I know you're not picking up because you don't want to talk to me, and I get it. I'm just wanted to say I'm sorry. I've been thinking a lot about what you said and you're right. I've been treating you like crap, and I want to fix it. I want to fix us. I'm going to give you some space but I really want you to call me back so we can talk. Please. I love you."

I hung up. In my lap, Obelix yawned leisurely, and rolled over, presenting his fat belly for rubbing. I obliged him with shaking fingers while I dialed Jane's number. She answered after two rings.

"Jane, I?—"

"Fuck off, Maeve." The dial tone buzzed in my ear.

I clicked off the phone and tossed it at the bookshelf. It hit the spine of a tarot-reading guide and bounced on the rug, sliding into a square of moonlight pouring in from the window behind Corbin's desk. Obelix shot me a filthy look and stood up, jumping down and going over to bat the phone with an inquisitive paw.

I glanced up at the moon, noting how only one thin edge was cut off by the dark of space. Only eight days left until it was full, until the Slaugh could begin their ride across the earth. My skin itched to do something, to grab Daigh around the neck and shake him until he called off the attack, or break down the door to Jane's cottage and force Kelly to listen to me.

But there was nothing to do but wait, and think, and hope Kelly forgave me.

I slumped down in Corbin's wingback chair, frustration welling up inside me. Corbin had gone to the Great Hall for supper, leaving behind a stack of magic books with post-its sticking out of every second page. He'd been working all day while I'd been arguing with Kelly and interrupting lesbian action and finding out the horrible truth about Arthur's cuts.

Arthur. Oh God. What is going on in that thick skull of his?

When I told him I loved him, he looked shocked, completely flummoxed. Not like Flynn – not scared of his feelings – but completely unable to believe the someone was capable of loving him. And he was hurting himself…

My beautiful warrior was slashing at his own skin so he'd be strong for all of us. That was messed up.

I needed to find a way to help him, to make him see how much he was loved, how he was enough just as he was, and that it wasn't his responsibility to save the world on his own.

Aline moved across the room, the hems of the jeans she'd borrowed from Rowan dragging along the rug. She picked up the phone from under Obelix's feet and turned it over in her hands. "Remarkable thing. What does this button do?"

"That opens up the browser."

"Browser? Like the internet? You have the internet on your phone? "

"Yeah." I took the phone off her and scrolled through the apps so she could see. "This little baby does all sorts of amazing things. This one lets me make text messages and share photos with my friends. This is the NASA app that sends me pretty pictures from space. This is an interactive star chart. It's not for astrology," I confirmed as I saw her face light up. "This one claims to turn my phone into a geiger counter but it's not accurate enough to be useful. And this one lets me make video calls."

"Just like Star Trek?" Aline's eyes widened.

"Um…yeah. I guess so."

"If you have this phone, then why can't you just video call your sister – by Astarte, it's really weird to think of you as having a sister – and let her see how sorry you are."

"I tried that, but she won't pick up. You just swore by Astarte?"

"She's an ancient goddess of sensual pleasure, fertility, war, and destruction. Love and hatred, violence and sex were her forte . She was worshipped in the Eastern Mediterranean before the Greeks co-opted her, took away her warlike attributes, and transformed her into Aphrodite. She's my patron goddess."

Interesting. I thought of my own cursing, which I must've learned from the Crawfords. "I never thought about it before, but I always say ‘Oh god' or ‘What the hell?' or ‘God help me.' The guys say ‘bloody hell' or ‘you wanker!' and I like those much better."

Aline grinned. "Why choose a patriarchal god as your own, when our faith has a matriarchy that extends back to the earliest human civilisations?"

Because he means a lot to my parents , I thought about saying. I didn't have any more attachment to a female goddess than I did their god. I didn't consider magic a faith. It was science...sort of. Basic Newtonian laws applied – every action having an equal and opposite reaction, etc.

Gods and goddesses meddling in the lives of humans were just make-believe. But I was too fascinated by the discussion to argue with Aline. It was a welcome distraction from worrying about Kelly. "What goddess would be good for me?"

Aline thought for a moment. "Athena."

"Who's she?"

"An ancient Greek goddess – she protects the city of Athens, which is named after her. She's also the goddess of philosophy, which is as close as I can get to a science goddess because the two things were one and the same until very recently in history. She helps many heroes to complete their quests," Aline raised her eyebrow toward the door, indicating the guys. "And she also presides over war strategy, but she much prefers to use wisdom to settle disputes."

I nodded. "Okay, I like that. Athena it is."

"You can pray to her for guidance on what to do about your sister," Aline moved toward the desk. "I'll show you a spell you can use?—"

"No thanks. I don't pray."

"Our gods are not the same as the Christian?—"

"Yes they are." I jabbed my finger at the ceiling. "Magic I can believe in, but there ain't no one up there answering prayers."

"Maybe you just never asked the right question."

Jeez. I rolled my eyes. This subject is now closed forever. "What about you, then? No motherly advice for me about dealing with Kelly?"

"You're kidding, right? I'm only a few years older than you, and I was your mother for exactly three-and-a-half hours before I pretended to stab you and sent you off to an orphanage. I'm not exactly a fountain of maternal wisdom."

"Good point." I leaned back in the chair and crossed my legs on top of the desk, shoving off the top volume with my toes. Obelix yowled as a corner landed on his tail. He streaked from the room, padding off down the hall to find his favourite people – Arthur or Rowan. "I just wish I could do something. Between this and waiting for the Slaugh to strike, my stomach's a big bag of knots."

"We can do something," she said.

"If you're suggesting we speak to Daigh, the answer's still no."

"You've had a day of hunting through the books. Do you have a better idea?"

"Not yet. But we don't know that we can't use the belief power to stop the Slaugh."

"I guess we don't," she said brightly. But her voice said it all. "You could ask Daigh about his DNA."

"What?"

"You want to know if the binding is real, if you really have inherited power from Daigh. If you throw your DNA science in his face, maybe threaten to tell this Liah fairy about it, he'll beg you to let him take the test."

I opened my mouth to tell her that was a stupid idea, but I couldn't make the words come. I imagined Daigh's face when I told him he couldn't possibly be my father. How his entire plan centred around my ruling beside him. I saw what Aline saw – the chance to crush his ego and open up the weakness we needed.

Plus, if he gave me DNA, I could actually get it tested. I'd know once and for all what scientifically tied me to him.

"Fine." I sighed. "We'll try it. I'll do anything at this point."

Aline's eyes danced. "You mean it?"

"I do." I slid my legs off the desk, knocking several heavy books onto the floor, and called out into the hall. "Guys, could you come to the library?"

From the room at the end of the hall, Arthur let out a loud moan. "I was trying to sleep."

"Well, wake up. I've got to talk to you all about something important."

Footsteps clattered from every corner of the house, and one by one the guys filtered in – Corbin and Rowan carried plates of savoury scones (half-eaten, I couldn't help but notice), and Arthur, wearing boxer shorts with pictures of Asterisk characters on them and his bloodlust hoodie.

"Where are Flynn and Blake?" I asked.

Rowan offered Aline the plate. She swiped three scones, looked thoughtful for a moment, and then grabbed a forth. "They went to the village about an hour ago, with that trailer."

"What trailer?"

"Flynn came inside at dinner and there was a car with a covered trailer in outside his studio, like a horse float. I saw it from the salad garden." Rowan shrugged. "I assumed you knew."

I groaned. Only this morning we'd discussed not going off with hairbrained schemes on our own, and now Flynn and Blake had disappeared with a mystery trailer. Those two together was guaranteed to equal trouble. What the hell had they got themselves into now?