Chapter 21
Fiona
He's a mess this one. One week without the love of his life and he falls apart. Jesus! I drive fast because I'm more worried that I made out to that Bunceling. (She's not a Magling anymore, not since they all worked out what a murdering bastard he was.) I don't really care much for the Bunces, they're not one of ours after all, and there's a whole bunch of them, bred like rabbits as soon as they left Watford they did. But she did help Baz find who murdered Natasha and she did help bring an end to the Mage. And she's a smart one (like her mother no doubt, her father's a wet rag) so she's good to have on your side when the shit hits the fan, and right now, it looks like the shit has really hit the fan.
We get to Oxford and I drop Baz off by the forest before we get to the house. "Don't come back until you've knocked off a deer or two!" I yell out the window. "Then come to the kitchen for something to eat!" I yell again. "I'll be waiting!" I close the window and drove up to the house.
I used to be quite uneasy discussing Basil's vampirism, but that was before the Coven appointed me head vampire slayer. (Quite ironic when there's an actual vampire in the family.) Since I've had the pleasure of chasing those blood suckers across the continent and back I've gotten quite used to the whole deal. And Basil is nothing like those vampires in any case, he doesn't touch humans of course, he's a Pitch and we've brought him up right. He keeps to legal game and pests and he has a human boyfriend for Christ's sake. He's the most unwilling vampire around, and that's something.
No one's home so I wait in the kitchen. Vera says they've all gone to London for the day to organise the children's school or something or other, I don't really care. I get lunch sorted for Basil and myself, then I wait, smoking and pacing, until he returns.
What a fucking mess. I'm still shaken by just how bad he looks. And only after a week of sulking and pining for his absent boyfriend. What's he going to be like if the Chosen One doesn't come back? A fucking mess that's what.
I might take the piss about his chosen one whenever I have the chance, but there's no denying that Basil is the happiest he's ever been since they've been together. And he deserves some happiness after all the shit he's been through – that the Mage put him through. If Snow doesn't return it's going to tear him apart, and Christ knows I don't need a depressed vampire moping around for all eternity. I've got to sort this out now.
Basil comes in a little later. His cheeks have a bit more colour and he's definitely less grey so I think he must have fed well. Lunch arrives and we sit and eat some leftover roast beef sandwiches and egg salad. There's a pot of tea that we demolish and I magic up another one. Basil knocks off some of the sandwiches and half the salad, and lots of tea. His skin looks a little better again but he still looks defeated.
"What the fuck Basil?"
"Leave it Fiona. This is none of your business." His voice is flat.
"You're my business, so this is my business."
He doesn't say anything, he just stares out the window across the great lawn, lost in thought.
"You have to eat Basil, and hunt. Can you at least remember to do that? Christ, your father and Daphne will be beside themselves if you croak because you've lost your will to live."
"I can't die if I'm already dead Fiona." He says like the cheeky brat that he is. He's always had a smart mouth on him. I guess I taught him well after all.
"Don't be a smart arse Basil. Or I swear I'll spell you dead myself." I huff and he ignores me. "We need to talk to your father." I say eventually.
"Why?"
"Just trust me, we do." So I make him have a shower and get changed. "Really Basil, you look like you haven't washed in a week." He heads upstairs to his room and I listen until I hear the shower start. After a time I hear the shower stop, and then I finally relax a little. He doesn't come down again.
His family returns later that evening and after I hand out some gifts to Mordelia, the twins and the baby, I shoo them out to Vera and I round up Malcolm and Daphne into the library. Vera brings some tea and then calls for Basil. We drink the tea while we wait. This should come from him, not me.
He comes in a short while later. He's showered and dressed and his face is no longer that awful grey like a London winter, he looks a hell of a lot better than when I picked him up. He sits facing his parents. They look at me expectantly.
"What's going on Fiona." Malcolm asks, bored and looking slightly amused.
I decide to get straight to the point. "The Chosen One's gone AWOL." I tell them. Basil glares at me and I shrug back at him. "Tell them Basil."
They both turn to Basil now, curious.
"He's gone." Basil says, looking out the window. He doesn't look at anyone.
"Why?" Daphne cries, obviously concerned. Not her too. Christ!
We're all looking at Basil now. He finally stops staring at the garden and turns to look at his parents, first his father, and then Daphne. He smooths down his trousers before he speaks.
"We're fairly certain that the Mage is Simon's father. His biological father." Basil says finally. I think I saw him wince at the word 'father.'
"Oh no!" Daphne gasps. She brings her hands to her mouth. Malcolm takes her other hand in his.
Basil proceeds to fill them in about the Will and the cottage. When he mentions the nursery and the photograph Daphne weeps.
"Poor Simon!" She cries. Malcolm lets go of her hand and places it on her shoulder. He gives it a gentle squeeze. Daphne looks up at Basil. "Who is she Basil? The woman in the photo?"
"They don't know." I say when Basil doesn't answer.
No one speaks for a time. We watch Basil as he stares out the window.
"Why are you here Fiona." Malcolm says, looking at me.
I knew this was coming eventually. I tell them how Bunce called me, worried about Basil. I don't tell them exactly how bad Basil was when I picked him up, or that he hadn't hunted for over a week. They don't need to know that – it would just worry Daphne.
Basil sits quietly while the rest of us talk. He doesn't look at anyone. Daphne looks sick with worry. She's quite taken by the Chosen One for some inexplicable reason. Malcolm looks wary. He has his hands clasped in front of his mouth.
"Anyway, this lovesick puppy was a bit of a mess when Bunce called me so I picked him up and brought him here." I finish.
"Oh Basil!" Daphne cries. "We need to find Simon. What can we do?" And it's so bloody heartfelt that even I'm starting to feel a bit emotional. No fuck that, I'm a rock. I don't do emotions. I mentally shake myself to stay focused.
Basil doesn't say anything. He just stares out the window into the gardens.
I look at Malcolm. He still has his hands clasped in front of his mouth. I catch his eye and look at him expectantly. He clears his throat.
"Basilton." He says. "I need to tell you something."
Penny
I call mum and tell her I need to talk to her and dad. She's been going into Watford every day even though term hasn't started yet, but she comes home early when I ask her to. By the time I finish my third cup of tea with dad, she's walking in the door. My brothers and sisters are around the house somewhere, but I don't bother to talk with them today, I need to focus.
Dad makes mum a cup of tea and then head upstairs to dad's study. When we're all seated, they both stare at me expectantly.
"Simon's missing." I say, twisting my ring around my finger.
Mum pulls her chin in and her eyes go as wide as an owl's. "Missing!" she shrieks. "What do you mean missing?"
"He's not missing exactly . . . well, yes he is." I stammer. "He left."
"What are you talking about Penny?" Mum cries again, and dad puts his hand on her arm to calm her.
"Let Penny speak Mitali." he says, patting her arm calmly. "Penny, what's going on?" He asks, turning to me.
I take a deep breath and then I tell them everything, starting with our visit to the cottage and what we found there; the nursery, the blocks spelling his name, the photo of the Mage and the pregnant woman. For some reason I leave out the bit about the prophecy – it doesn't feel right to mention it without Simon.
"We think she's Simon's mum . . ." I trail off.
They're both staring back at me silently. We're all silent for a long time.
"The Mage? Simon's father. I don't believe it." Mum says, shaking her head from side to side. She's fairly quiet about the news. I thought she'd be shrieking – she's usually more dramatic. She sits staring at the wall for a long time.
"Who was the woman in the photo?" Dad asks when it's clear that mum isn't going to say anything.
"I don't know, I didn't get a good look, and it was taken a long time ago." I sigh. The photo was so old that even if I did get a better look it wouldn't have made any difference.
"And Simon's gone?" Dad asks. He's obviously just as worried as I am.
"Yes. We've looked everywhere for him." I tell them, looking between each of them as I speak. "He quit his job and deferred his studies, (mum gasps at that) and Baz is a mess and I don't know what to do." I finish, finally bursting into tears. My dad comes straight over to me and hugs me and it feels good. Then he moves to let mum hug me. She holds me tight for a long time. I let the tears fall.
I stay for dinner but mum and dad and I are so tense that it's a quiet, awkward night. After we finish clearing up, dad takes me home and sees me into my flat.
"We'll sort something out Pen." He says reassuringly. "He can't have gone very far." He adds, and I nod and he hugs me again before he leaves.
I pace the flat as I check my mobile for messages, there aren't any. I go to bed.
Baz
My father is talking to me about my mother. Why in Crowley's name he's brought this up now is beyond me – Mother has nothing to do with Simon leaving. Maybe he's trying to make me feel better.
I'd rather he get to the point.
"Basil, I don't know how relevant this is to the matter at hand . . ." He starts.
"Father?"
"Your Mother . . ."
"What about my mother?"
He stops talking and stares down at his hands – they're clasped together in front of him now. He looks hesitant, like he's picking his words carefully.
His eyes flicker to me for a moment and then drop back to his hands. He lets out a heavy sigh. "That night, when your mother came to Simon through the Veil . . ." He goes on.
We're all staring at him unabashedly now. I don't have any idea why he's bringing this up. All of this came out at the trials, how she came to Simon and told him to find Nicodemus to uncover the truth of her murder. Is he still upset that she came to me and not him? And what has this got to do with Simon?
"The second visiting . . ." he says after a time.
"What about it?" I challenge. I must be upset because I never speak to my father in such a tone.
His eyes flicker back up to me for a moment. "Where she called you her 'Rosebud boy' . . ."
I know instantly what he's talking about. "Yes?" I haven't thought about that in a long time.
Father is still looking at his hands. "I don't think that was your mother . . ." He says quietly, finally looking up at me. "She never called you that."
I think about that for a moment. I had forgotten all about the second part of her visit. When she called me her 'rosebud boy' and said 'he said we'd be stars'. Simon and I couldn't find any relevance to solving my mother's murder so we just forgot about it, focusing instead on finding Nicodemus. I hadn't even thought about it since that night, when Simon gave me his magic, when I took Simon to the stars.
I've thought about that many times. When Simon held my hands on my bed and pushed his magic into me. So much power, I felt like I could do anything. And his hands in mine, I did take him to the stars and when he pulled away it felt like the tide pulling back, if the tide was made of heroin and fire.
And my father is right, my mother called me her 'little puff' all the time. I remember her saying it every day. I liked it, it made me feel special, loved. She either called me that or Basil and occasionally Basilton but never anything else. She never called me her 'rosebud boy'.
"I think that may have been Simon's mother." Father says finally, breaking into my thoughts.
My head snaps up at his words.
"Malcolm!" Daphne gasps, throwing her hand over her mouth.
I think about what Simon repeated back to me – what he said she'd said to him. What was it? 'Simon, Simon, my rosebud boy'. That's what she'd said; 'Simon, Simon, my rosebud boy'. 'Simon' not 'Basilton'.
Of course. Of course! It's so obvious now that I can't see how we could have missed it. She had even said his name for Crowley's sake! It couldn't be any more obvious. How could I have been so blind?
But I know how. I was so incensed that I'd missed my mother's visit, that Simon got to see my mother instead of me. I was blinded by my anger, and then I was so intent on finding my mother's murderer that I didn't even think for a moment what the rest could mean.
And Simon, so selfless, so hell bent on helping me, so determined to help me find my mother's murderer that he didn't even think for a second that it could have anything to do with him. Why would he? He always thinks of others before himself, even his sworn enemy.
I didn't think it was possible to feel any worse but I was wrong. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have missed something so obvious. How could I have been so selfish?
"Of course." I mumble, shaking my head.
"Okay Basil." Fiona pipes up. "I can see that look on your face."
I turn to Fiona. She's giving me a knowing look.
"Don't you dare go blaming yourself for this. This is not your fault." She says determinedly.
"Of course it's my fault." I snap back. "I should have realised."
"Christ Basil, snap out of it!" Fiona says firmly. "You're not helping Simon with this ridiculous guilt trip you're on. Cut the crap now so we can finish this!"
"Basil, you had a lot on your mind. You were trying to solve your mother's murder, you'd just been kidnapped." Daphne says quietly.
I look between Fiona and Daphne, they're nodding at me and it irritates me. I turn to my father instead. "Why didn't you tell me– us, before?"
He stares down at his hands again, and then looks back at me. He hesitates once again before he speaks. "Basil, there was a lot going on . . . After everything that happened, we nearly lost you . . . You and Simon were . . . content . . . I didn't want to dredge up the past . . ." he trails off.
"It wasn't the time." Fiona snaps, shaking her head impatiently. "Anyway, you're all missing the point."
We all turn to look at her. I raise my eyebrow in question.
"She came through the Veil." She says looking at each of us pointedly. No one moves and she rolls her eyes mightily. "That means she was a mage."
Shit.
"Oh, and she's dead."
Fuck.
A mage, his mother was a mage. Both of Simon's' parents were mages, he didn't come from the Normal world after all. But he is still an orphan, his mother died and he was left in the orphanage alone. And he doesn't know, he doesn't know that it was his mother that came to him that night through the Veil.
I stand up quickly, almost knocking over my chair in my haste. I need to think. I need to go for a walk. I need to understand exactly what the fuck this all means. I leave the room without a word and wander back into the woods where it's quiet.
I wander aimlessly for hours, thinking about everything that's happened recently. The Mage was Simon's father. The Mage somehow brought him here. Simon's mother was a mage. She came back for him. How will he be able to handle this latest piece of information? Just when we think there couldn't possibly be any more devastating news, the revelations just keep coming. And how can I tell him anyway? He's gone. He left.
I stay at my parent's house for the night. I have dinner together with my family and Fiona – it's a subdued evening. The next morning I insist that Fiona take me back to my flat, I can't stand the scrutiny of my family for another minute, and whenever I look over at the lawns here all I can see is Simon flying, Simon playing with my siblings, Simon sitting quietly in the shade, drawing.
Fiona doesn't want to take me back to London but I promise to come back in a couple of days and I promise to eat and to hunt.
"All right." she says reluctantly. "But I'll be checking on you every day boyo so don't go starving yourself or go off wallowing in self-pity again. Got it?"
"Fine." I say as she drives me back to London.
Penny
I wake up and walk into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Baz is sitting on the couch looking at his mobile.
He looks a hell of a lot better than he did yesterday morning, even though he still looks like crap. His cheeks have a bit of colour and he looks like he's had a shower. He's definitely changed his clothes. Thank Fiona for coming through when she did. The Pitches may be malevolent and dark but Baz was right – they're fiercely loyal to their own.
I bring two cups of tea to the coffee table and put them down. "I told my parents." I blurt out as soon as I sit.
"Simon's mother was a mage." He says in a flat voice.
"What?"
He doesn't say anything more so I get up and stand in front of him. His eyes are vacant.
"Baz what the hell is going on now?" I demand.
"She's dead."
"What?"
"Sit." He says. And then he fills me in on the discussion with his family yesterday, and I can see he's blaming himself for not seeing it, for not realising it when Simon first told him what his mother had said from beyond the Veil.
I level my eyes at him. "Baz this is not your fault."
"Yes it is Bunce." His voice is empty. "It was obvious. I should have realised."
I shake my head and I'm about to disagree but I don't want to argue with him right now. He's in one of his dark moods and I know that no matter what I say, he's going to blame himself. He blames himself for Simon leaving and now he blames himself for this. He's being completely ridiculous and pathetic but there's no point in telling him now, he won't listen to me.
"Well, we need to find him now more than ever." I say instead. "To tell him!"
Baz doesn't say anything. He doesn't touch his tea.
I'm still in my pyjamas so I get up to have a shower. When I come out Baz is gone.
Baz
I go home. There's no point in staying at Simon's flat, I don't want to hear Bunce prattle on about looking for Simon. There's nowhere to look. He's gone.
I look around my flat. There are reminders of Simon everywhere – his charcoals on the coffee table (leaving black smudges on its surface), his shoes thrown haphazardly on the floor. And when I walk into my room it smells like him. Damn my vampire heightened sense of smell, I can smell him everywhere. He is everywhere; discarded clothes thrown across my chair, shoes on the floor, drawings on the desk. Crowley, half his clothes are in my wardrobe. I can even see the dent in the pillow from when he last stayed over and the memory of our last morning together washes over me. I crumble to the floor against my bedroom wall and let the tears fall.