by Helen Harper
I turned slowly. If I could steal that woman’s Gift in plain view of everyone else then I could certainly steal more. Buoyed up, I got to work.
I avoided the elderly male Sidhe crossing my path, unsure what stealing from someone so advanced in age might do, and picked on a simpering man who was giving detailed instructions to a servant. ‘I want a glass of water,’ he ordered. ‘Room temperature, no ice. A slice of lemon cut diagonally and placed on the rim so that…’
I closed my eyes momentarily and snatched a fistful of his magic. He staggered as I turned away.
Wandering in from a nearby door were three giggling girls. ‘Did you see her face?’ the middle one cackled.
I stole from her first, pulling at the threads of her magic and drawing them into me. When she froze mid-step and her two companions stopped to check on her, I stole from them too.
My soul stretched and settled, as if altering itself to accommodate the new Gifts. I had to be careful not to overdo it – I’d already made that mistake once before and too much magic could finish me. As long as I took small amounts from each person, however, I didn’t think I’d be over-burdened and they would recover quickly from my actions.
I wove my way to the library, grabbing a pinch here and a saucerful there. I was beginning to feel heady from the power surging through me. The magic mixed and coalesced. These Sidhe with their airs and graces, they had no idea what real power felt like. I wanted more. I needed more.
‘Uh Integrity…’ Bob began.
I brushed him away, lifting my hand as if I were flicking away an irritating fly. In the far corner a man was flirting, turning a simple stick into an elaborate bunch of flowers through what must be his Gift of Illusion. Amongst the Sidhe, Illusion was considered a lesser Gift, something with which to amuse children. No one could make use of it quite like me, though.
I drew on it, sucking it inside me and feeling delight course through me. The hapless Sidhe fell against the wall while Bob pinched me. ‘What are you doing? You’re taking too much!’
I barely heard him. Right now I felt strong enough to fly. I could take down Aifric with one swoop; I could storm into the Cruaich dungeons and free Candy with a blink of my eye. I could twitch my little finger and every scrap of Scottish magic would be mine. I could … oh shite. I twirled round and faced away from Byron as he strode in from the hall to the right.
‘I was going to warn you,’ Bob murmured. ‘But you seemed kind of preoccupied.’
Suddenly, I felt woozy and nauseous. I wasn’t the only one. Several of the Sidhe from whom I’d stolen also looked distinctly unwell. I paid them scant attention. It was the knowledge that Byron was at my back that made me tremble all over.
I shuffled to the nearest wall, as far away from him as I could without drawing attention to myself. I’d allowed my over-confidence, along with the adrenaline of theft and the vertigo-inducing nature of magic, to make me almost lose control. If I wasn’t more careful it wouldn’t matter how many Gifts I managed to steal; I’d end up in the cell next to Candy. Or worse. And I’d hurt a lot of people in the process.
I gulped in air as Byron swept past me. He didn’t feel my eyes on him because everyone else was watching him too. I couldn’t see his face but that didn’t stop me fixating on him. The way his hair curled into the nape of his neck and the tantalizing glimpse of tanned skin where he’d pushed up his sleeves. I frowned. Had he lost weight?
I shook myself. He was probably on a damned wedding diet. It was no business of mine and I wasn’t here to gaze after him like a love-struck puppy. I was a Highland Chieftain who was far, far better than that – whether anyone here was aware of me or not.
As soon as there was enough distance between us, I scooted back to the other end of the room. Seeing Byron had been helpful in the sense that it brought me back to full awareness, like having a bucket of icy water poured over my head. I passed the library. Spotting a plain unvarnished door next to it, which I hoped led to the staircase Fergus had mentioned, I made a beeline in that direction.
‘Uh Integrity! Byron’s turning round!’ Bob squealed. ‘He’s looking this way. He seems…’
I wrenched the door open and ran inside to the welcoming darkness.
‘Uh Integrity? Why are we in a cupboard?’
I twisted round, knocking over a mop. When I tried to pick it up, I hit my head against a low shelf. I cursed loudly as pain exploded in my skull and lights danced in front of my eyes. I didn’t need to worry about Aifric or Byron or anyone else; at this rate, I would inadvertently kill myself.
‘As unpleasant as it is in here,’ Bob remarked, ‘it’s no spooky dungeon.’
‘Gee,’ I said sarcastically. ‘Thanks, Bob. I hadn’t noticed.’
‘Just trying to be helpful.’ He waited for a beat. ‘Byron looked really bad.’
I stiffened. ‘In what way?’
‘Tired. Great big expensive Louis Vuitton bags under his eyes. Awful skin. He must be stressed out because his fiancée has disappeared.’
‘Yeah,’ I said sourly, ‘he must be.’ Whatever. ‘Any chance you saw another door when you were gawping at Byron? One that might lead to the dungeons we’re supposed to be heading for?’
‘Ooooh!’ Bob flounced. ‘Get you! I’m not the one who was getting drunk on magic and flitting around like the Artful Dodger on speed.’
‘Sorry. I messed up,’ I muttered. I could hardly pretend otherwise.
‘What?’ he screeched. ‘No, no, no, no, no! A Chieftain does not apologise. Have you ever heard me apologise?’
I sighed. ‘I’m not infallible just because I’ve got a poncey title.’
‘Of course you’re not. But you don’t ever let other people know that.’ He paused. ‘Are you making a face at me?’
‘No.’
‘You are, aren’t you?’
‘I already said no, Bob.’
‘Honestly,’ he huffed. ‘This is what I get for working with amateurs.’
Chapter Six
Although I hadn’t intended to hide in a bloody broom cupboard, in the end it proved rather useful. It gave me time to sort through the different Gifts I’d taken and work out what each one was. Together with Illusion – and I was already well aware of how useful that particular Gift could be – I’d taken Electrosurge, Dowsing, Animal Summoning and Apportation. I sent out tiny bolts of each one, tugging tentatively to test them and identify them while Bob crowed out the different magical names. An ancient lightbulb, long since blown, zapped back to life and illuminated the tiny cupboard until I released the magic. I sensed a string of jewels round an elegant Sidhe lady’s neck less than twenty feet away which called seductively to my inner thief. A cat meowed outside the cupboard door and scratched the wood until I hastily sent it away. I sent a mop head up to the top turret and brought it back. I flexed my magic muscles until I was satisfied that I could control each one. Candy’s life might depend on it.
When I eventually edged out of the cupboard, the large hall was as busy as before. Fortunately there was no longer any sign of Byron and no one paid me any further attention. The giggly Sidhe girls from whom I’d stolen were still hovering around, no longer looking worse for wear. As long as I hadn’t done any permanent damage, I could ignore my temporary loss of control.
My eyes landed on another door that was almost identical to the one to the cupboard. Hoping that this time I’d found the correct route to the dungeons, I slipped over and turned the knob. When I saw a narrow stone staircase leading downwards, I expelled the air I’d been holding and quickly entered, making sure to close the door behind me.
‘Now we’re getting somewhere!’ Bob squeaked, freeing himself from his hiding spot and flying in front of my face. ‘But if it turns out these dungeons are empty and Sweetie isn’t here, you’re going to feel pretty foolish.’
‘His name is Candy, as I keep telling you. And keep your voice down. We’re not out of the woods yet.’
‘Yes, we are. We left the woods ages ago. No
w we’re in the castle.’
I tutted. ‘Come on, let’s find out if I’m right and Candy is here.’ Part of me hoped he wasn’t then I could still pretend that Byron wasn’t culpable.
Apart from the dilapidated staff quarters, the parts of the Cruaich I’d seen had all been well maintained. Here, however, the air was stale and there was more than one cobweb looping across the cracked ceiling. I wound my way downwards. Apart from the occasional clunk of hot-water pipes, there was nothing to be heard. I felt as if I were descending into the very belly of the beast itself, as if the Cruaich were a living, breathing monster rather than an ancient castle made out of nothing more dangerous than stone.
By the time we reached the bottom, I’d counted almost two hundred steps. That placed us at least five floors underground. Despite the fusty odour and the depth, the basement level was well lit. I guessed there was nothing like fluorescent strip lights for highlighting every facet of fear on your captives’ faces.
A long corridor stretched out, with branches off in various directions. I started walking down it, resisting the temptation to whistle to fill the silence. The first few turns seemed to lead to dead-ends. I peered round each one, using my SAS-style navigational skills from my thieving days. My caution seemed to be unwarranted; this place was dead.
Just as I was wondering if I’d been mistaken about Candy’s whereabouts, Bob flapped his arms and gesticulated wildly to the right. I peered across. The light down there was dimmer – and there was a Sidhe woman leaning against the wall, gnawing at her fingernails.
I pulled back out of sight and considered. I had numerous options and I didn’t want to rush into doing the wrong thing. Neither did I want to hurt her, even if her job was some sort of black-ops guard duty. If I played my cards right, I could turn this into a fact-finding mission as well as a covert rescue. I grinned.
Because I’d been high on magic and not worried about the consequences, I’d stolen more of the last Gift than any of the others so there was a fair amount of Illusion swirling around inside me. Concentrating hard, I pulled on it, letting the Gift envelop me completely. When I saw Bob’s look of horror, I knew that it had worked.
‘What do you think?’ I asked quietly. I pirouetted. ‘Close enough to the real thing?’
He stared then jabbed a finger at me. ‘Steward Moncrieffe?’ he asked, his voice wavering.
I smirked. ‘Call me Aifric.’
Bob shook his head in a mixture of giddy fear and delight. ‘Awesome,’ he breathed.
‘Glad you like it.’
He pointed at my newly acquired paunch. ‘How does it feel to carry around that extra weight?’
‘It’s an illusion. I’m not actually Aifric Moncrieffe.’
‘You certainly look like him.’ His gaze turned wary. ‘How do I know you’re still Uh Integrity under all that?’
‘I might look like him but I don’t sound like him, do I?’
Bob still seemed doubtful. ‘What’s your favourite colour?’
‘Hot pink.’
‘Ha! Everyone knows that’s your favourite colour.’
There was a shuffling noise round the corner; the Sidhe guard had probably heard something and was coming to investigate. I glared in warning but the genie wasn’t done yet. ‘Who is the smartest person you know?’ he asked.
‘Fergus.’
He glared. I grinned. There was no further time for Bob to interrogate me as the guard was upon us. ‘Who …’ her voice faltered. ‘Steward. I apologise. I didn’t realise it was you.’
I reminded myself that Aifric presented a benign, kindly face to the world and twinkled at the Sidhe. I coughed to disguise my voice. ‘No problem.’
Luckily she was still surprised by my appearance or she might have questioned why ‘Aifric’ sounded so strange. I would have to limit my words if I wanted to pull this off. I jerked my head in the direction of the corridor, a question in my eyes. The Sidhe understood. ‘He’s sleeping,’ she said. ‘He had some food at midday.’
‘Hm,’ I nodded. I waited, still looking at her expectantly and hoping my silence would encourage her to fill the void with helpful chatter.
‘It’s good he’s sleeping,’ she said anxiously, as if desperate to please. ‘It means that when you get him down to the Adair Lands, he’ll be more alert.’ I pursed my lips to encourage her to continue. ‘I still can’t believe that a Wild Man is working with those trolls. Traitors,’ she spat. ‘And abducting Byron’s fiancée.’ She shook her head. ‘It beggars belief. He deserves to be hung, drawn and quartered.’ I frowned and she quickly backtracked. ‘I know you’re trying to be lenient, Steward, because of the pressure everyone’s been under. It’s not a criticism. Obviously you have the full picture and I’m just a lowly guard.’
I patted her on the shoulder. Aifric had been spinning quite a yarn to his minions. What were the odds that if he managed to get Candy down to my border to dangle him in front of Tipsania, the Wild Man would then die in some horrific ‘accident’?
Byron wasn’t that kind of bastard; maybe he wasn’t involved in this at all. Not that it mattered either way. I’d had my suspicions confirmed and I now knew for sure that Candy was going to be used as bait to drag Tipsania back for her impending nuptials. Once I got Candy out of here, Aifric’s plans would be scuppered. There was a lot of satisfaction in knowing that.
I smiled at the Sidhe and pointed behind me. ‘You may go,’ I croaked.
Her brow furrowed. Desperate to get rid of her before she started to question my hoarse voice, I folded my arms and tried an expression of vague impatience. She was obviously still confused but she bowed her head and marched past me, snapping out a salute as she passed. Maybe it would be a good thing if she came down to my place; she’d get on with Sorley like a house on fire.
As soon as the Sidhe had disappeared, I dropped the illusion in order to conserve my magic and hurried down the corridor.
‘You weren’t very convincing,’ Bob told me.
‘I only need five minutes. Keep watch in case she comes back.’
He saluted as well, although it was a considerably sloppier version. I checked my watch, took a deep breath and looked around.
There were six cells. Three didn’t look as if they’d been used since the days of Robert the Bruce, given the rusting manacles and the thick layer of dust in each one. Two were spick and span but empty; there was a spatter of dried blood in the corner of one which made me shudder and reminded me that Aifric Moncrieffe really was a bastard. The last cell held a sleeping occupant.
I looked at Candy’s inert form. His cheeks were ruddy and a lock of long, straggly hair, which fell across his forehead, gently lifted every time he exhaled. So he was here and he was alive. I watched him for a moment. This was where love got you: thrown into a deep, dark dungeon with only damned spiders for company.
I shook myself. As insane as it might appear to those on the outside, I was going to do my best to give Candy and Tipsania their happy ending. Someone had to come out all of this with a smile on their face otherwise what was the point?
I checked the corridor again then, satisfied that it was clear, I ran to the cell door and knelt, making short work of its lock. This was not a state-of-the-art system. I frowned and touched one of the bars. Candy was a Wild Man; I didn’t know much about them but their strength and size were legendary. Candy had once bopped me lightly on the head and knocked me unconscious. I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t tried to bend these bars. Surely he had the power to do so? Surely he wasn’t scared of one little Sidhe guard?
Biting the inside of my cheek, I swung open the door. It creaked, making me wince and Candy stir. He grunted softly then, as if realising someone was standing and staring at him, suddenly bolted upright.
‘Wh–what?’ His jaw dropped as he stared at me. ‘Integrity Adair. What in bejesus are you doing here? I thought you were dead.’
Huh. ‘Tipsania didn’t tell you I was alive?’ She was more circumspect than I’d given
her credit for. Or maybe the world didn’t revolve around me after all and when she’d spoken to him on the phone they’d been talking about other things. The thought of them murmuring sweet nothings was kind of cute.
‘Tip?’ Panic flared in his eyes. ‘Is she alright? Has she been hurt?’ He leapt to his feet. Given the way he was looking at me, I suddenly understood why they were called Wild Men.
Now that I could see him properly, I could see several painful-looking bruises on his face and body. I gestured at him awkwardly. ‘She’s fine.’
He glanced from side to side, his pupils dilated and his muscles bunched up. ‘Is she here?’
‘No,’ I soothed. ‘She’s away. She’s safe. They can’t get to her.’
Candy’s attention returned to me and, as he fixed on my face, he appeared to calm down. I wasn’t fooled though; he was still panicking. He was just doing a better job of hiding it. ‘They?’
‘Aifric. Byron. Whoever. Let’s concentrate on getting you out of here.’
Candy didn’t move. ‘Does Byron know you’re alive?’
‘No. Let’s go.’
‘Does Byron know where Tip is?’
‘No. Come on, Candy. I’ll answer your questions properly once we’re out of here.’
He stepped backwards. ‘He needs her.’
I blinked. Er… ‘Byron needs her? But don’t you need her too?’ I asked stupidly.
Candy crossed his arms across his massive chest. I swear he had the girth of a bloody oak tree. ‘I have her.’
I tilted my head to the side. ‘I hate to point out the obvious but you’re stuck in a medieval dungeon while she’s wandering around in the free, fresh air of the Highlands.’
He regarded me impassively. ‘You should tell Byron you’re alive. He’ll be very happy.’
Yeah, yeah. ‘Look, Candy,’ I said, trying again, ‘I understand this is all a surprise to you but we probably don’t have very long. We need to get out of here before the alarm is raised.’