Last Wish

by Helen Harper

  ‘Where are you going?’ I asked.

  ‘None of your business,’ Byron said sharply.

  Jamie touched my arm. ‘He’s sneaking off to see his fiancée,’ he said. Well, I knew that was a lie even without my Truth-Seeking Gift. ‘It’s nothing against you. He’s just not that into the whole stag night thing.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Byron muttered unconvincingly.

  I moved past him and perched on a sofa. ‘Sounds like easy money to me.’

  ‘Do up your shirt.’

  ‘Huh?’ I glanced down and realised I was still proudly displaying my – or rather Chardonnay’s ‒ rather bounteous assets to the world. I licked my lips. ‘Don’t you like what you see?’

  ‘I’m not interested,’ Byron growled. There was an edge of anger in his words that I’d ever heard before, not even when he’d discovered I could steal magic.

  If Jamie hadn’t been present, I might have played around some more. Instead, I nodded and fastened the buttons. ‘So where is your lovely bride?’ I asked casually.

  He ignored me. ‘I’ll be back before dawn.’

  ‘See that you are,’ Jamie said. ‘You know what could happen if this gets screwed up.’

  Byron’s answer was flat. ‘I’d better not screw up then.’ With that, he walked to the sash window, yanked it up and disappeared into the night.

  Jamie looked at me. I held up my hands. ‘I’ll be good.’

  ‘Can I get you a drink or something while you’re waiting?’

  I shook my head. ‘I’m absolutely fine. You go and enjoy the rest of the party.’

  ‘Thank you for this.’ He was being honest. Jamie Moncrieffe really was a nicer guy than anyone gave him credit for.

  I shrugged. ‘I’d hate to stand in the way of true love.’

  He scratched his chin. ‘Have we met before? I’m sure we haven’t but there’s something about you that’s incredibly familiar.’

  Er… ‘I get around,’ I purred. ‘Maybe you’ve been to one of my parties before.’

  For a moment, he looked absolutely terrified. ‘I don’t think so.’ He opened the door and stepped out. ‘Thanks again.’

  The second the door shut behind him, I sprang into action. I grabbed a chair and propped it underneath the doorknob ‒ that would keep him out for a short while if he felt the need to come up and check. Then I dashed to the window and peered out. Byron was already on the ground, running towards a parked car. I flipped over the edge of the window sill, dropping cat-like. I had no idea what he was up to but I was going to find out.

  Chapter Eight

  ‘Well?’ Bob grunted, flashing back into existence when I called softly to him. ‘Have you finished making a complete idiot of yourself? Have you been killed yet? Because black is not my colour so don’t expect me to go to your funeral and mourn.’

  ‘Come on!’ I hissed. ‘We need to move. Byron’s already driving away.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean, that he’s pretending to be drunk, pretending to be in a room shagging Chardonnay and is actually driving away on some secret mission. We need to get to the car and follow him.’

  Bob blinked, as surprised as I had been. ‘Are you sure?’

  I grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, pinched him between my finger and thumb and began to run. ‘There’s no time to delay!’

  ‘Is he like James Bond, do you think?’

  I snorted. ‘Hardly.’

  ‘Or maybe he’s the Milk Tray man. He knows where Tipsania is and he’s going after her with a box of chocolates.’

  I didn’t deign to answer. Instead, I vaulted over the wall to my left and dashed for our car with Bob flitting behind me. Maybe I’d get lucky and catch up with Byron at the first intersection. I bit my lip, remembering that one of my stolen Gifts was Electrosurge. I squeezed my eyes shut and focused, silently telling all of the nearest traffic lights to flicker to red. From the distance, there was a squeal of tyres and some loud beeping of horns. Shite, I hoped I’d not just hurt anyone. More haste less speed, I reminded myself. I wasn’t in the business of causing car accidents.

  I flung open the car door and jumped in, before gunning the engine and taking off. I swerved round the corner and completed an illegal U-turn to head the car in the same direction as Byron’s. When I spotted it up ahead, waiting in a growing queue, I exhaled in relief and released my hold on the traffic lights.

  There were four cars between me and Byron. That was good; I didn’t want to get too close. Many aeons ago, not long after I’d passed my driving test, Taylor had schooled me in the art of evasion whilst in control of a car. Despite his dire warnings about how difficult it would be to avoid the police if they ever tailed me, it had been more fun than anything else. Unfortunately I’d never had any practice at being predator rather than prey.

  The lights changed back to green. As soon as I started driving again I winced, noting with a sinking heart the fender-bender between two cars that had stopped on the side of the road to my left. Bob, perched on the steering wheel, made a point of highlighting it too. ‘You’re a pacifist, Uh Integrity. Or is it that you’re a pacifist except when you’re chasing down the hot, sexy man of your dreams?’

  I craned my neck, breathing out in relief when I saw the two drivers getting out of their stalled vehicles. They were obviously unharmed. ‘No one got hurt.’

  ‘That’s not the point.’

  Bob was right. I was determined to follow Byron but I wasn’t going to put anyone else in harm’s way. I braked slightly, staying back from the car in front, and forced my shoulders to relax.

  ‘Go back and get their number plates, Bob,’ I said. ‘I’ll make things right later.’ I could track them down and send them some kind of compensation. Frankly, compensation was the least I could do. The last day or two I’d been getting ridiculously reckless. I needed to remember who I really was.

  Bob threw me a scowl but did as I asked and zapped away. When he returned, he sniffed grudgingly. ‘They’re fine. The damage is minor.’

  I smiled. ‘That’s not the point.’

  Appeased, he shrugged and patted my finger then turned to the front. ‘Let’s not waste all our efforts and lose Byron now. Look, he’s indicating left up ahead.’

  Bob was right. Two of the cars in front drove straight on, leaving only two between Byron and me. That was cool. I followed them, keeping strictly to the speed limit as we continued through the streets of Perth.

  ‘Where do you think he’s going?’ Bob asked.

  ‘I don’t have a clue. Neither do I understand why he’s sneaking away from his own stag party.’

  ‘Maybe he’s doing a runner. He’s going to head for the sea and swim across to Europe.’

  ‘Right now we’re going west,’ I pointed out.

  ‘So he’s going to America then.’ Bob began to hum the ‘Star Spangled Banner’.

  I had no idea how I managed to get into these conversations. ‘You think he’s going to swim across the Atlantic Ocean? What is that? Three thousand miles?’

  ‘Fine,’ Bob said, obviously stung. ‘What’s your suggestion?’

  ‘I told you, I don’t know where he’s going or what he’s doing. That’s why we’re following him.’ We were reaching the city limits now and I still couldn’t work out where we were heading. The Cruaich was in the other direction and The Veil – and my own lands – were more southerly.

  ‘You’re no fun.’

  I huffed. ‘Bob, we’re tailing Aifric Moncrieffe’s son. He’s obviously on some secret mission and we’re the only ones who know about it. What kind of fun do you want?’

  Bob considered this. The last of the street lights vanished in the rear view window and another car pulled off the main road, leaving just one vehicle between Byron and us.

  There was a blinding flash and I cursed, swerving across the centre of the road briefly before righting the car again. ‘What the hell are you doing?’ I glared at Bob. He’d changed into a tuxedo and was sipping wha
t looked like a martini.

  ‘Mish Moneypenny, you ought to calm down.’ His accent was a good approximation of Sean Connery’s but I still rolled my eyes. ‘If Byron Moncrieffe isn’t going to be James Bond, then I will be.’

  ‘No more of that,’ I hissed. ‘Any further flashes of light and Byron will know something’s up. If we’re going to be spies, then act like one.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Uh Integrity,’ Bob said, more cheerful now. ‘This isn’t my first secret mission. I worked with Kim Philby, you know. If it wasn’t for me, he’d never have been a double agent for the KGB.’

  I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel. There wasn’t much petrol left in the tank so I hoped Byron wasn’t planning a long expedition. ‘So what you’re saying is that you aided and abetted a traitor.’

  Bob pursed his lips. ‘I’m helping you. You’re a traitor too.’

  ‘It’s hardly the same thing.’

  ‘Depends whose point of view you’re looking from.’

  I was liable to toss Bob out of the window if he didn’t stop talking soon. I did the only thing I could think of to shut him up. ‘What do you call a traitor with a lisp?’

  ‘Is this a joke?’ he asked suspiciously.

  ‘Judith.’ I grinned.

  ‘Uh Integrity…’

  ‘What do spies do when they get cold?’

  He dropped the martini in favour of putting his hands over his ears. ‘Stop it,’ he moaned. ‘I’ll tell you whatever state secrets you want to know. Just please stop the torture.’

  ‘Then I’m going to need you to be quiet. Not one word out of your mouth unless I ask for it. Got that?’

  He nodded vigorously. ‘Sure. Sure. Sure.’ He drew his finger across his lips.

  I beamed. ‘Great.’

  Bob dropped his hands and sighed ‒ but at least he didn’t say anything.

  ‘Oh, one more thing,’ I added casually. ‘Cold spies go undercover.’

  His cheeks went bright red. It was quite possible that Bob was about to explode.

  ***

  We tracked Byron for several miles. He wasn’t speeding and he didn’t seem in any hurry, though he wasn’t driving at snail’s pace either. It wasn’t until we passed a road sign that I got an inkling of where he might be heading. It made even less sense than Bob’s theory about Byron swimming across the Atlantic so I kept my mouth shut and continued, grimacing when the last car between us turned off the road and away. The only saving grace was that it was dark and the glare from my headlights would prevent Byron from seeing inside the car. All the same, I slowed down slightly and let him pull away from us.

  When we reached the next turn off, I swung towards it. Bob opened his mouth to question my action then remembered his promise and snapped it shut again.

  I brought the car to a stop and waited until Byron’s headlights were little more than pinpricks in the distance. Then I killed my lights, did another U-turn and headed after him again, making sure that this time I didn’t even begin to get close. From this distance we’d be all but invisible. I smiled. Who needed magic when you had a bit of nous?

  It wasn’t long before Byron’s car also turned – and when I saw where he was going, I realised that my suspicions were correct. Bob gazed round, his expression as flummoxed as mine, as we tailed Byron down the first part of the driveway which led to the Moncrieffe Lands.

  Aifric spent most of his time at the Cruaich, as befitted the Steward of the Highlands, but this was still his ancestral home. That meant it was Byron’s home too – so why was he was sneaking away from Perth simply to return to his own damned house?

  I was forced to stop again after Byron paused at the border. It was too dark to tell for sure but this time he seemed to get out of his car. I watched, worried that new guards had been posted there now that all the trolls had vamoosed. If that were the case, I’d have to be more than careful ‒ I’d have to be the luckiest damn woman alive to tail him up to the main building. There was nothing obvious, however, other than a flare of light which was extinguished quickly. A torch, perhaps?

  Unwilling to drive right through the Moncrieffe border – or even close to it now that there might be prying eyes scanning the landscape ‒ I parked near a copse of trees and walked the last part. The driveway wasn’t as long as those at the Adair or the Scrymgeour Lands and I could see the lights of Byron’s car as he continued on his way. He didn’t go to the Moncrieffe castle but halted halfway. Maybe that was where everyone was supposed to park.

  Aware that we were now some way back, I hurried towards the border with Bob on my shoulder. Unfortunately, this time we were without Speck. Although I understood how passing through individual Sidhe Clan borders worked in theory, I wasn’t convinced that I could manage it in practice, not without preparation. I couldn’t even call my warlock buddy for help; the signal at the Adair Lands was too weak to receive calls. All the same, I wanted to give crossing the border a shot. My curiosity was too great to turn back now.

  When we were less than fifty feet away, I slid towards the bushes at the side of the road. We were in the middle of nowhere so there was little light, something that was working in my favour. I hunched and tiptoed forward. I couldn’t see any flickering shadows but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anyone there and it didn’t ease my tension. I moved faster and gradually got closer to the border. There weren’t any people ‒ but there was something there.

  I stopped at the edge of the border, remaining still for a long moment, as I scanned up and down for any sign of life. I knew from the puddle of fabric at my feet that I wasn’t going to see anyone; Byron hadn’t stopped and got out of his car for a chat with a family servant, he’d got out to bring down the Moncrieffe flag. No doubt he’d done so by sending up a pyrokinetic bolt so the flag fell to the ground without Byron putting a single foot across the border. That was the little flare I’d seen. And he hadn’t stopped there; Byron had apparently made use of his second Gift as well, lifting up the flagpole to remove it entirely from the spot that controlled the border itself. It now lay uselessly on its side.

  I rocked back on my heels. Byron could never have managed a feat like this if the trolls were still in place. Their presence helped maintain the magic of the Sidhe borders, together with the flagpoles, the Clan colours and the incumbent Moncrieffe Sidhe, most of whom were back at the stag party. The majority of Sidhe didn’t understand how the borders worked but it was obvious that Byron did. What wasn’t obvious was why he had sneaked away from his own party and was skipping unseen into his own Clan Lands. He should have been able to pass them without consequence.

  I glanced at Bob. He raised his eyebrows at me and I jabbed a finger at him. ‘Speak.’ He crossed his arms and pouted. ‘Bob,’ I said, ‘you may speak. I won’t tell any jokes.’ I gestured at the fallen flag and horizontal flagpole. ‘But I need to understand what’s going on.’

  He shrugged. ‘S’easy. Byron knows you’re tailing him and he’s setting a trap. He’s made it easy for you to cross his border. As soon as you do, he’ll pounce on you, tie you up and slit your throat.’

  I narrowed my eyes.

  ‘Or,’ Bob added, ‘he doesn’t want anyone to know that he’s been home. If there’s no real heavy magic in place at the border, no one will know that it’s been crossed, even by a Moncrieffe Sidhe.’

  I rubbed my chin. ‘But why? He’s the sodding Moncrieffe heir. He can come and go as he pleases.’

  ‘So now you want to hear my theories?’

  I sighed. ‘If we’re talking about wild speculation, no. Can I pass through unnoticed now?’

  Bob tapped his mouth. ‘Probably. There’s still magic there but it’s pretty faint. What remains is less likely to be activated against another Sidhe than it is against, say, a Fomori demon.’ He paused. ‘However, as an all-knowing magnificent being with powers you can only dream of, I would say it’s still too dangerous. You’re far better abandoning this entire project so we can go back home.’

  I nodde
d. ‘Yeah.’ He beamed in glee but I wasn’t done. ‘You stay here. If I’m not back in three hours, head back to the Adair Lands and tell the others what’s happened.’

  Bob’s smile vanished. ‘If you’re dead, I’m no longer beholden to you in any way, shape or form. I don’t want you to be dead. Despite your irritating nature, you’re my friend.’ I didn’t imagine the pleading note in his voice. ‘Leave it be. I understand how you feel about Byron Moncrieffe but this isn’t worth it. You’ve got more important things to do. You’re supposed to save Scotland.’

  ‘If that prophecy is real,’ I said with an arch grin, ‘then I’ll save Scotland regardless of what happens. So there’s nothing to worry about.’

  ‘Uh Integrity!’ Bob howled. ‘You know prophecies don’t work that way!’

  ‘Then don’t bring it up.’ I smiled reassuringly. ‘I’ll be back before you know it.’ Before he could protest any further, I ducked my head and passed across what little remained of the Moncrieffe border.

  ***

  I sprinted up the driveway, no longer attempting to conceal myself. The darkness was enough of a shroud, although it also worked against me as the road here was almost as badly maintained as the Adair one. On at least one occasion I narrowly avoided landing in a deep pothole. When I reached the spot where Byron had parked his car, I wondered if he’d left it there to avoid damaging its suspension on the uneven ground. Given what I’d seen at the border, however, he could well have parked there because he wanted to disguise his approach to the castle.

  I paused to peer through the windows. The car was spick and span; I’d find no clues there.

  I started running again. I’d never been here – at least, not that I could remember – so I was travelling blind. Taylor had always maintained the importance of preparation when making an incursion and I’d always stuck to that rule but these were special circumstances. I pushed away the voice that told me I was being reckless and acting out of character and kept on going.

  The Moncrieffe castle was lit by two flickering torches near the heavy, studded main door. I couldn’t see any other lights in the windows; with their crappy finances, the Moncrieffes were probably trying to cut back on the electricity bill. Perhaps Aifric considered financial fraud beneath him, even if mass murder was acceptable.