The Eighth Court (The Courts of the Feyr - By Mike Shevdon Page 0,4
behave like one.
As I passed along the hallway, Angela emerged and then retreated to her doorway so that I could pass without brushing against her – a courtesy and a necessity with a seer like Angela, since any contact could lead to her seeing flashes of my future – or in her case, my past. Teoth said her power was corrupted by her humanity, but I wasn’t so quick to judge.
“Blackbird asked if you’d walk down with her.” I told her.
“I was just heading there,” she said. “We have two new people coming in this evening. I was hoping Blackbird would spare the time to meet them?”
“I’m sure she will if she can. You’ll have to arrange it with her, though. I’m going out with Alex and I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone. It should only be a couple of hours, but you never know.”
“I’ll try and catch her now, then,” she said.
I walked on to the end of the corridor where Alex’s room was, and knocked quietly on her door. There was no answer. I knocked again more loudly, “Alex? Are you ready?” There was still no reply.
I tried the door handle and the door opened easily. “Alex, honey, we’re going to be late.” I looked around the room. There were a few clothes laid out on the end of the bed, and an Alex shaped heap underneath the duvet. “Alex, are you OK?”
I walked round to the side of the bed. All I could see was the top of her head. The curls of her dark hair spread across the white pillow were twitching with agitation. Alex’s hair had a will of its own and generally reflected her mood.
“What’s wrong? I thought you were getting ready?”
“I’m not coming,” said the muffled voice under the duvet.
“Not coming? But I thought you wanted to see your mum? I’ve arranged it especially.”
“I’m ill. Tell her I’m s-s-sick and I c-c-can’t come,” said the muffled voice.
I could hear the lie in that, “Alex, come out from under the quilt,” I said firmly, “I’m not talking to the top of your head.” The duvet edged downwards until I could see her face.
“What’s the matter?”
“I feel sick,” she said. From her voice, that at least was true.
“Is it something you’ve eaten? What did you have for lunch?” I asked her.
“I didn’t eat lunch. I felt sick.”
“That’s probably why you feel ill, then. You need to have something in your stomach or you’re going to feel bad.”
“If I eat, I’m going to throw up,” she said miserably.
“When did all this start?” I asked her. “You were OK this morning.”
“I can’t see Mum. You’ll have to tell her I am ill.” She tried to pull the duvet back over her head but I caught the edge of it, and after a moment she let go.
“Is this about seeing your mother?” I asked her. She shook her head, but she couldn’t deny it. “Alex, you were keen to see her. What on earth could be the matter?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I just feel bad. Tell her I’m not well. Tell her I’ll come next time.”
I shook my head. “I’m not going to see her without you,” I said. “You’re the one she wants to see, not me.”
“I can’t,” she said.
“Why not?”
She pulled the quilt more tightly around her, hugging it to her.
I sighed. “I spoke to her yesterday. She was excited about you coming to see her and she’s made special arrangements. If you’re worried about being spotted, don’t be. Your glamour will take care of it. No one will know you were there except your mum and Barry, and they’re not going to tell anyone.”
“It’s not that,” she said quietly.
“Then what is it?” I asked her. My question was greeted with a long silence.
“Alex, your mum and me…” I sighed, and tried again. “Your mother and I both love you very much. When you disappeared, it was hard for both of us – harder than you realise. We thought… they lied to us, Alex, in the cruellest way imaginable. They told us we’d lost you, and it broke our hearts – both of our hearts. Your mum, she couldn’t cope with seeing your empty room every day. She didn’t know you were still alive.”
Alex sniffed and wiped her nose on the duvet. I pulled a tissue from the box on the chest next to the bed and gave it to her. She blew noisily.