I move to the single window, lifting up the pane. “Yes.”
We both stick our heads out and look down, wincing in chorus as we register just how high up we really are.
“They know what they’re doing,” Marley murmurs and I can hear in his voice that he’s already given up.
“We can sneak out when they’re asleep,” I retort. “Down to the front door and out that way.”
He nods and flops down onto his bed, on the other end of the large room. I sit carefully on my own, letting the quiet hang between us for a moment. Quiet after a surprisingly loud and eventful evening.
“You saw her?” I finally say.
He bends down to scratch his ankle, avoiding my stare. “Yeah.”
“And?”
He sits up straight and coughs once. “And she was just like you said.”
I feel validated. Sometimes, when I think about the Sirens, I almost fool myself. Maybe they don’t have the potential to be as bad as I imagine. Freddy is one after all, and he is a good friend. Ren was terrible, but he could have been an outlier. Then I remind myself about what happened with Portia.
She didn’t actually do anything horrendous. She only triggered the rift that kept our family apart for years. That’s all.
But it’s hard to articulate how she did it. How their voices can be weapons of chaos if they choose to use them.
As far as I’m aware, Portia is too clever to get her hands dirty. Ren said she had “plans”, but I don’t know if I want to find out what they are.
I don’t want to realise that I’ve made up a monster in my mind. So, hearing Marley say that she is exactly what I said… it’s a relief. It helps.
“Portia has got Fae snooping around up here,” I repeat, more for myself than for Marley. “They’re probably looking for us.”
“She had people with her in Edinburgh,” he tells me, frowning, “but I obviously can’t tell if they were magical or not.”
Marley can’t see through Glamour like I can, and it has always been a little bit of a sore subject between us. “What actually happened?”
Marley stares into the distance for a moment. He’s far more careful with his words than I am. He is considerate. He worries over everything in life. Not just where the commas go. I can sometimes see him rehearsing every possible outcome of a situation inside his head before he’s even spoken.
It must be difficult.
“I was at the school choir performance at St. Giles,” he says slowly. “It was a bad night, rain and wind and a bit of hail. We were ready to start and then Freddy appeared and –”
“Freddy?” I interrupt. “Freddy was with you?”
He fixes me with a look that is remarkably unlike him. “That piqued your interest.”
I scowl and make a noise of derision. “Shut up, you just surprised me.”
I reach under my pillow and haul a bright pink laptop out from underneath it. I sit it on my knees and open it up, clicking on my inbox. Dad bought it for me before he relocated to London for work, but I spend most of my time on it emailing Freddy. He writes an update from Edinburgh each morning and I reply every night before bed.
“He didn’t know this was coming,” I say. When Marley says nothing back, I snap, “Marley. He didn’t.”
“Well, fine, if you say so. He did get me out of there but he knew something was about to go down. Without a doubt.”
“Well, what about our mums?”
Marley considers this and then nods. “They were waiting outside. They knew, too. At least that something was about to happen.”
“I told Freddy to get straight to the three of you at the first sign of trouble,” I tell Marley, pointedly and smugly. “And it looks like he did.”
“But who tipped him off? Plus, he stayed behind. What if he’s with them? He’s one of them, as it is.”
“There is no ‘them’,” I say. I say it, because I need to say it to myself every day. If I have to hear it, then so does he. “And Freddy’s our friend.”
“He’s your friend,” Marley corrects me. “If ‘friend’ is even the right word.”
“Oh, be quiet,” I mumble, typing furiously on the computer. “I’m checking in with him. Shall I thank him for you?”
Marley rolls his eyes but nods.
“We need to scout the area, see if any Fae are camped out nearby.”
“That drop will kill me. You, too, if you can’t…”
He stops himself, but not before I understand his meaning. “I can fly.”
“I know you can,” he says quickly. “I’ve seen it. It’s just…Mum mentioned—”
“I just don’t do it without Opal there,” I say. I’m not sure why I’m so defensive. “It’s dangerous, I’m still learning. I just—”
“It’s all right,” Marley interjects softly. “It’s fine. It’s more than I can do, obviously. I know it must be hard. It’s fine, I just meant… I just meant we shouldn’t test your abilities by jumping out of a window.”
