Grace’s fate to that of the Troy Game’s.
“Afterwards,” Noah continued, “when London lay burned and desecrated and you had left, we did everything we could think of to free Grace. Everything.” She paused, and Jack could again see the pain well up inside her. “Nothing worked. Not from any of us, gods or Faerie alike. Jack, it wasn’t just that Grace had been so cruelly trapped, it was that Catling then wrapped Grace in agony whenever she felt like it. Or whenever she felt she needed to remind us how badly, how finally, we were trapped, or whenever she had a particular message to get across. She has made Grace suffer all these years. All these years. And in the process…” Again she paused, and Jack realised it was to bring her emotions under control. “And in the process I lost my daughter.”
That statement startled Jack somewhat, although earlier he’d recognised the tension between Noah and Grace. Surely Grace had lost a great deal more than Noah?
Noah hadn’t noticed Jack’s reaction. “Grace was never a baby. She was never a child. She has spent her entire life struggling to survive the anguish and the hopelessness. Jack,” Noah looked over to him with eyes full of emotion, “all I had wanted was a daughter to love. I thought I’d have it with Catling, but look what she truly was. I was certain I’d have it with Grace, but then…”
“She doesn’t like to be mothered, does she?”
Noah made a small gesture of unhappiness. “I fuss too much. All I want to do is to take her in my arms and somehow take some of that hurt into myself, but she hates that.”
“She loathes pity.”
“I don’t know what to do any more, Jack.”
He wasn’t sure what she meant those words to apply to—Grace or the wider disaster they were all involved in—then he decided it didn’t matter. The statement held true enough for whatever subject.
“Do you think this looming war is Catling’s doing?” Jack asked, wanting to change the subject.
“Who knows? Whether Catling is responsible for the war or not, I am sure she will grow in power from it. We are all sure she will use what is coming to force us to her will. Jack, there is a frightful despair winging its way towards us, and none of us know what to do about it.”
“I don’t have a magical answer for you.”
Noah looked down at her hands.
Jack sighed. “I am not Catling’s tool, Noah, but I am not yours either. All I know is that I want to be free of this debacle we have created for ourselves and of you. But I don’t know how to do that.”
At Faerie Hill Manor, Grace stood at the window of her room and looked towards London.
She went white, and a hand flew to her mouth.
“By the gods,” she whispered. “What is that? ”
S IX
Copt Hall and Faerie Hill Manor
Sunday, 3 rd September 1939
A s Jack and Noah talked, Malcolm cleaned the kitchen and laid the table for breakfast. Just as he set out the plates, he heard a scratching at the door which led outside.
Malcolm’s eyes flew to the door leading into the hall, as if he thought to find Jack standing there. Then, reassured that Jack and Noah were still deep in conversation, he opened the door and slipped outside.
Two dark, overcoated figures stood in the shadow of the porch, jittering from foot to foot in excitement.
“Malcolm! Malcolm! Malcolm!”
“Shush!” Malcolm hissed at the imps. “What are you doing here? Why? Don’t you realise how dangerous it would be for Jack to see—”
“We saw it! We saw it! It’s alive! ”
“You shouldn’t be here! ”
“You’re our friend,” one of the imps said, “and hers. We thought you’d like to hear the news.”
“Then I am excited for you. Now go.”
“It was hungry, Malcolm.”
Malcolm froze in horror.
“We fed it, Malcolm.”
“Then that’s between you and your dark mistress,” Malcolm said, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. “I want no part of it. Don’t come back.”
As one the imps shook their
“Afterwards,” Noah continued, “when London lay burned and desecrated and you had left, we did everything we could think of to free Grace. Everything.” She paused, and Jack could again see the pain well up inside her. “Nothing worked. Not from any of us, gods or Faerie alike. Jack, it wasn’t just that Grace had been so cruelly trapped, it was that Catling then wrapped Grace in agony whenever she felt like it. Or whenever she felt she needed to remind us how badly, how finally, we were trapped, or whenever she had a particular message to get across. She has made Grace suffer all these years. All these years. And in the process…” Again she paused, and Jack realised it was to bring her emotions under control. “And in the process I lost my daughter.”
That statement startled Jack somewhat, although earlier he’d recognised the tension between Noah and Grace. Surely Grace had lost a great deal more than Noah?
Noah hadn’t noticed Jack’s reaction. “Grace was never a baby. She was never a child. She has spent her entire life struggling to survive the anguish and the hopelessness. Jack,” Noah looked over to him with eyes full of emotion, “all I had wanted was a daughter to love. I thought I’d have it with Catling, but look what she truly was. I was certain I’d have it with Grace, but then…”
“She doesn’t like to be mothered, does she?”
Noah made a small gesture of unhappiness. “I fuss too much. All I want to do is to take her in my arms and somehow take some of that hurt into myself, but she hates that.”
“She loathes pity.”
“I don’t know what to do any more, Jack.”
He wasn’t sure what she meant those words to apply to—Grace or the wider disaster they were all involved in—then he decided it didn’t matter. The statement held true enough for whatever subject.
“Do you think this looming war is Catling’s doing?” Jack asked, wanting to change the subject.
“Who knows? Whether Catling is responsible for the war or not, I am sure she will grow in power from it. We are all sure she will use what is coming to force us to her will. Jack, there is a frightful despair winging its way towards us, and none of us know what to do about it.”
“I don’t have a magical answer for you.”
Noah looked down at her hands.
Jack sighed. “I am not Catling’s tool, Noah, but I am not yours either. All I know is that I want to be free of this debacle we have created for ourselves and of you. But I don’t know how to do that.”
At Faerie Hill Manor, Grace stood at the window of her room and looked towards London.
She went white, and a hand flew to her mouth.
“By the gods,” she whispered. “What is that? ”
S IX
Copt Hall and Faerie Hill Manor
Sunday, 3 rd September 1939
A s Jack and Noah talked, Malcolm cleaned the kitchen and laid the table for breakfast. Just as he set out the plates, he heard a scratching at the door which led outside.
Malcolm’s eyes flew to the door leading into the hall, as if he thought to find Jack standing there. Then, reassured that Jack and Noah were still deep in conversation, he opened the door and slipped outside.
Two dark, overcoated figures stood in the shadow of the porch, jittering from foot to foot in excitement.
“Malcolm! Malcolm! Malcolm!”
“Shush!” Malcolm hissed at the imps. “What are you doing here? Why? Don’t you realise how dangerous it would be for Jack to see—”
“We saw it! We saw it! It’s alive! ”
“You shouldn’t be here! ”
“You’re our friend,” one of the imps said, “and hers. We thought you’d like to hear the news.”
“Then I am excited for you. Now go.”
“It was hungry, Malcolm.”
Malcolm froze in horror.
“We fed it, Malcolm.”
“Then that’s between you and your dark mistress,” Malcolm said, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. “I want no part of it. Don’t come back.”
As one the imps shook their
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