Edward Cox is a fantasy author whose works include The Wood Bee Queen, The Relic Guild trilogy, The Song of the Sycamore (Gollancz), and The Bone Shaker (NewCon Press). He lives in Essex where he is surrounded by mysterious countryside, haunted forests, and dangerous creatures. First published around 1999, he is now too old to remember where it all started, but he does recall not being happy about turning 50. Friendly chap with a beard.
--------------------------------------------------------------
THE WOOD BEE QUEEN
-CHAPTER ONE-
A Dream of Wolves and Dragons
They say that in the Realm, the sea is in the sky . . .
Mai liked to wander the streets at night. In the small hours, when others were sleeping, she found solace in the quiet, peace in the dark. The air was fresher than it was during the day, salty from the sea, not choked by the fumes of automobiles. She had spent years travelling from place to place, enjoying the wind on her face, the open sky over her head, the honest earth beneath her back – but it was here in the town of Strange Ground by the Skea where her travels had finally ended, where she had at last come to feel at home even though her true home lay so very far away.
Ambling through a balmy night in the height of summer, Mai headed to her favourite nocturnal spot. She veered off from the soft sodium glow suffusing the main road, cutting down an alley to a residential area where the communal hum of electric fans came from wideopen bedroom windows. She smiled to herself, sadly.
The townsfolk had adopted Mai as something of a curiosity. The wise old woman of the streets, they called her; not quite a celebrity but certainly a mystery for gossips to discuss. She had many acquaintances among the earthlings, could claim to have at least one good friend, but none knew the truth of why Mai had adopted them. Strange Ground by the Skea was so close yet so far from her real home, but the town’s lack of magic made it the perfect place to hide. Or had done, once.
Finally, Mai reached a horseshoe of small apartment buildings curving around a little private garden. Although the garden was fenced in by black iron railings and locked at night, the gate opened with a squeak at Mai’s touch and welcomed her inside. Comforted by the smell of flowers and freshly watered soil, she sat on the solitary bench to contemplate a worry which had begun while she slept during the day.
Terrible visions had plagued Mai’s dreams, nightmares of a dark Empress who commanded the foulest magic of the Underworld, who led a dragon horde into battle against a revolt of giant wolves. Once upon a time, the wolves had been loyal allies to the dragons, but now they were mortal enemies, and these two supernatural armies fought across the land without remorse or mercy. Innocent people died in their tens of thousands as the battle bathed their world in blood and fire. In the dream, Mai knew she had been given the power to stop the senseless destruction, but she didn’t use it and awoke feeling disturbed by her decision, restless thoughts dominated by the home from which she had walked away.
The friends and family she left behind, the ones she had never said goodbye to – Mai missed them all dearly and it was only natural that they should cross her mind from time to time; but never had she questioned her decision to leave them, and never had they arrested her attention with as much force as they now did. Strange Ground by the Skea was full of bad omens on this night.
The sky was clear and bright with stars, yet the silvery glow of the moon rippled like a reflection in a pond. Beneath the taste of brine, a light breeze carried the scent of something wild, filled with desire and pursuit. A thin mist had begun forming on the ground like smoke sighed from the mouths of sleeping dragons. The atmosphere trembled as though warning of wolves on the hunt. There was magic in the air.
Startled by the sudden flapping of wings, Mai watched a gull swoop down to land on the bench’s armrest. It cocked its head to one side and considered the elderly woman staring at it.
‘Hello there, little thing,’ Mai said. ‘You gave me a fright.’ She noticed the message tied to the gull’s leg with some concern. ‘You must have travelled a long way to deliver this.’
The gull offered no resistance as Mai untied the scrap of paper and read the message upon it. The words were few but stopped her heart. We have failed. Come home.
Mai’s eyes welled, but a small sob was barely out of her mouth before she gasped. The wild smell of hunting wolves assaulted her nostrils with vigour – stronger, closer, announcing they had picked up their prey’s scent.
Crushing the note in her fist, Mai jumped to her feet and held out a hand to the gull. ‘No time for tears, little thing. It seems you were followed tonight.’
The gull hopped onto her arm and then up to her shoulder. Hurrying through the night, Mai took the shortest route to her dwelling. It wasn’t much, a recess most would overlook, a nook between two buildings on the high street, but it kept Mai dry from rain and sheltered from snow, and it was lined with cardboard and blankets donated by kind townspeople. The mist had thickened by the time she arrived, and it carried a haunted chill.
‘I’m afraid I have no food to offer you,’ she said, placing the gull down on the floor. ‘This will have to suffice.’ She picked up a paper cup, removed the plastic lid and swirled the soured remnants of hot chocolate. ‘My friend bought it for me.’ Sadness grew inside her. ‘He brings me hot chocolate every day. I wish I could return his kindness better than I now have to.’ Mai shivered and placed the cup before the gull. ‘There, that should give you strength for the return trip. And return you must, little thing. This very night.’
While the gull dipped its head to the chocolate, Mai searched among her belongings at the rear of the nook until she found a pencil. Forgive me, she scribbled hastily on the back of the original note. I am undone. You know what to do.
The gull was still supping on cold hot chocolate when Mai tied the message to its leg. She lifted the bird, kissed its head, then stepped from the nook.
‘Fly hard from this world, little thing,’ she told it. ‘Do not stop until you reach the Realm.’ And she threw the gull into the air. With a burst of wings, it soared high and away.
Mai re-entered her nook and once again rummaged through her belongings. A decade ago, back when she lacked the strength to do what needed to be done, she had entered into a pact with a divine grace no longer worshipped on Earth. Such pacts were everlasting, never forgotten, and the ears of the divines could hear all places. Mai found the pact and carefully unwrapped the dusty old rag that kept it safe.
It came in the form of a spell contained in a glass vial, its every detail floating in clear liquid. Mai shook it and awakened the magic to a blue glow. Here was a promise. Here was a duty.
Out on the pavement, Mai crushed the vial beneath the heel of her boot. There was a hiss, a puff of steam, and then five streaks of ghostly blue sped away from her position. Three raced off into the town. Two shot up into the sky.
‘For my granddaughters, for my friends and for the Realm,’ Mai said as the spell disappeared among stars and watery moonlight like silent fireworks. ‘Lady Juno, remember your servant’s sacrifice and honour the promises you made . . .’
A growl emanated from across the high street.
A wolf emerged from the mist, stalking between two parked cars into the orange glow of street lights. Mangy, black and silver, the beast was closely followed by a second. Mai stepped backwards into her nook. Only now did her nightmare make sense. How had she not seen this coming?
‘Ten years ago, I would have given you a good fight,’ she said, curling her lip. The wolves crept closer, growling, hackles raised. ‘Tell my daughter that her mother’s ghost will forever haunt her.’
And the hunters leapt at their prey.
© 2022 Edward Cox