by Helen Harper
‘Um,’ I demurred, before alighting on something which would explain what I’d said. ‘There were strange tracks on Coire an t’Sneachda.’
Byron looked confused ‒ I was probably still pronouncing it wrongly. ‘The mountain we rescued Maggie and Rory from.’ I described the three-legged paw prints.
‘What size were they?’ Byron asked.
I made a shape with my fingers to indicate their girth.
‘Something small, then.’ I nodded. Byron patted me on the arm. ‘I wouldn’t worry about it. That high up, it was probably just a bird.’ He grinned at me. ‘Well, it was … entertaining to see you, Integrity. No doubt our paths will cross again soon.’ He leaned towards me and I caught a hint of his natural musky smell. ‘The Games start in a fortnight. If participants aren’t at the Cruaich and registered to enter by the fourteenth, they have to wait a generation for their next shot.’
‘I do so hate killing time,’ I quipped.
Byron’s eyes danced. ‘You should get a watch-dog.’
Speck groaned. ‘You’re as bad as each other.’
‘Come on, doctor,’ I said to him, turning on my heel. ‘Let’s leave the Moncrieffes to their family reunion. Byron and Jam Jam clearly don’t need us. And,’ I added in a muttered breath, ‘we’ve got things to do.’
Chapter Three
My old mentor Taylor scratched his chin while the five of us sat around my small kitchen table and pondered Byron’s news. ‘I’ve heard of the Games,’ he said slowly. ‘They’re a really big deal.’
‘You didn’t think to mention them before?’ I asked mildly.
He shrugged, the very picture of ambivalence. ‘Only Sidhe can enter them and you didn’t want anything to do with your kin, so I didn’t pay much attention to Sidhe competitions. And considering how rarely they’re held, it’s a miracle I can even remember the last ones.’
Lexie’s eyes were shining. ‘You can ask for anything?’
‘If you win,’ I said.
She nodded distractedly. ‘Yes but anything?’
I glanced at Speck for confirmation. He pushed up his glasses and gave a wide grin. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘That’s what Tegs’s crush told us.’
I threw him a nasty look. He didn’t even notice.
‘It’s a shame that only Sidhe can enter,’ Brochan said, helpfully drawing attention away from me. ‘Although it’s probably just as well.’ He gestured at Lexie and Speck. ‘These two would probably get themselves killed, especially if one of the challenges involves that spider.’
Lexie shuddered. ‘I hate spiders.’
‘Aw, Lex, don’t be like that,’ Speck interjected. ‘Spiders are very clever creatures who deserve respect.’
‘Says the warlock who’s afraid of just about every damn thing in the world,’ she growled.
I held up my palm. ‘Enough. Can we focus on what’s important?’
Taylor smiled. ‘Winning the Games and getting a pot of gold. We could be set for life.’
‘No. It’s not money I’m after.’ His face fell. ‘I’m sorry,’ I apologised. ‘But we can always make more money. There are some things that even the biggest treasure chest can’t offer.’
‘Like what?’ Taylor seemed baffled that I’d even consider anything other than hard cash.
I took a deep breath. ‘The Adair Lands.’
Even Brochan’s jaw dropped at that. ‘You’d ask for your own Clan Lands? But technically they already belong to you, don’t they?’
‘First of all,’ I said ticking off the points on my fingers, ‘the Lands were destroyed by being covered in salt and then confiscated. They’ve been lying empty ever since…’ I didn’t finish the sentence. ‘If I asked for them back, every single Sidhe would have to recognise my Clan again and I’d be in a better position to find out what really happened to my parents.’ And to get my revenge.
‘But you’re the only member of Clan Adair,’ said Speck.
I grinned. ‘Didn’t you all say you were working for me?’ The Sidhe might run the Clans but there was no law against getting others to work for them.
‘I love you Tegs but I’m not swearing fealty.’ Lexie flipped back her hair.
I rolled my eyes. ‘You know I wouldn’t ask you for that. I’m sure we could come to an alternative arrangement.’
A gleam lit Taylor’s eyes. ‘It would be like throwing sand in the other clans’ faces.’
‘Not sand,’ Speck said thoughtfully. ‘A whole lot of our sweet-smelling shit.’
‘And we’d rub their faces in it,’ grinned Taylor.
‘Not to mention,’ Bob’s voice piped up as Brochan sneezed, ‘we could leave this town and go somewhere more civilised.’
‘Who says you’re coming along?’ I asked.
‘You might need me.’ I snorted but Bob looked only momentarily put out. ‘If you want,’ he said, warming to the topic, ‘you could make a wish and win automatically. Job done.’
I didn’t even deign to answer.
‘Actually,’ Taylor interjected, ‘I’m pretty certain that there are wards in place to prevent anyone from using magic to win.’
‘Participants can’t use their Gifts?’
‘They can use them during the individual challenges but not to control the outcome of the Games as a whole. There’s some trigger system that alerts the organising Clan. Anyone caught trying to play the system is banned from competing for the next six generations.’
More of Byron’s supposed honour shite. Whatever. I fixed my gaze on Taylor. ‘What else do you know about the Games?’
He frowned, searching through his memory. ‘There are three challenges: Artistry, Adventure and Acumen.’
Speck pursed his lips. ‘Alliteration.’
‘Bless you,’ said Lexie. He glared at her.
Taylor ignored them and continued. ‘The nature of the challenges changes every time. If memory serves me right, that ice wall thing Byron Moncrieffe was talking about came in the Adventure challenge last time around.’
Lexie clapped her hands. ‘That would be a piece of cake for Tegs!’
Taylor grimaced. ‘It was only part of the whole thing. The reason I heard about the competition in the first place was because of what came after the ice wall in the last Games. In the Acumen challenge.’
‘Which was?’
‘A Yeti.’
I blinked. ‘Seriously?’
‘Yeah. There were some rather brutal, er, deaths.’
I swallowed. ‘Wow. So we can make a reasonable guess about which part of the competition Debbie is going to be in. Do you know anything else?’
Taylor shook his head. ‘No. I could find out. If I asked around, I’m sure someone would have some information.’
I thought about it. ‘Nah, best not. We don’t want to seem like we’re cheating. And I’m betting the Clan Chieftains will do whatever they can to stop me participating. We don’t want to give them a reason to cancel my entry.’ A smile played around my lips as I imagined their reaction if I won. ‘Besides, if the challenges aren’t repeated from one set of Games to the next, information about the last ones won’t help ‒ although it wouldn’t hurt to keep our ears to the ground. We know the Carnegies are the organisers so maybe something will drift our way. Debbie did.’
‘So you’re definitely going to compete?’ Taylor asked.
My smile spread until I was grinning so hard it was possible my carefully applied make-up would crack. ‘You can count on it.’ Aifric’s face hovered in my mind for a moment before I added, ‘And I’m going to win.’
***
Travis was only too happy to give me time off from mountain rescue. He was so quick to agree that I almost opened my mouth to argue with him but in the end I decided it was easier not to look a gift horse in the face. It was a close-run thing though. I really had to stop letting my emotions get the better of me.
Once that small matter was taken care of, my posse set about making the necessary preparations. That meant locating supplies
– not to mention finding the cash to buy them.
‘We could just nick everything we need,’ Lexie said pragmatically when we pooled our money and realised how little we had.
It was tempting but I couldn’t take the risk. ‘We don’t steal from our own. And if we steal anything from the Sidhe who turn up at the Cruaich…’
‘Yeah, yeah. But buying all that food will be expensive.’
I grimaced. After Aifric Moncrieffe tried to poison me we couldn’t take any chances: no food or drink could pass our lips at the Cruaich so we had to buy in. It was necessary – but costly.
‘We also need to get hold of your Clan tartan,’ Lexie continued, ‘and weaponry for when…’
‘Whoa. No weapons.’
She looked exasperated. ‘I know you don’t like fighting but I don’t think you’ll be able to avoid it.’
‘I’m not going to give those bastards another reason to slag off my name. If I win through force then that’s not a win. Weapons won’t be necessary.’
‘Hello?’ She knocked the side of her head. ‘Gigantic spider to beat off? Not to mention what else they’ve found or what they’ll ask you to do. This is a weakness of yours, Integrity. If the other Clans are determined to stop you from winning, they’ll exploit your unwillingness to fight.’
I shrugged. ‘They don’t know about it so they can’t exploit it.’
‘I think they’ll realise it quickly enough,’ Lexie grumbled.
‘If they do,’ I responded calmly, ‘we’ll deal with it.’
‘Fine,’ she said, with a toss of her blue hair. ‘You still need your tartan, though. In fact, if we’re going to be your entourage, we need to wear it too.’ She pursed her lips and indicated a mark on her thigh just below her arse. ‘I’m thinking mini skirt. Or hot pants.’
Unfortunately for Speck, he chose that moment to wander into the room.
‘Hey Speckster!’ Lexie called. ‘Do you think I should wear hot pants?’ She twirled round. ‘Or a mini skirt?’
His face immediately went flame red. ‘What?’
Mischief glinted in her eyes. ‘In the Adair colours. It’s to support Tegs. I could always run up a tartan bikini as well.’
‘It’ll be February, Lex,’ I said. ‘In Scotland.’
She grinned. ‘That’s okay. The Cruaich is bound to have a hot tub, right? Although,’ she added, her face taking on a thoughtful cast, ‘we’ll save money if I just go in the nude.’
Speck didn’t know where to look. Feeling sorry for him, I came to his rescue. ‘What have you got, Speck?’ I asked.
He coughed. ‘First of all,’ he said, looking pointedly at Lexie, ‘you can’t use the Adair tartan. It’s verboten.’
I screwed up my face. ‘Those pricks. No wonder it wasn’t present in the Cruaich main hall.’ Every single one of the other twenty-four Clans’ tartans was proudly displayed there for all to see – except the one for Clan Adair. ‘Can’t we resurrect it?’
‘No – but you can use a variation of it as long as it’s not the original thing.’
I shook my head. I shouldn’t have felt disgusted because I’d never been an Adair by name; when I ran away from the Sidhe and their damned Clans, I took Taylor’s name as my own. But banning my own Clan’s tartan seemed like spitting in my face. ‘They’re really going all out to wipe any trace of the Adairs off the planet.’
Speck gave an uncomfortable smile. ‘Sorry.’
‘It’s hardly your fault.’ I sighed. ‘Is that all?’
This time his grin was wider. ‘No. I managed to hack into the Cruaich’s system.’ He held up his palms. ‘Before you say anything, I didn’t go near any of the secrets ‒ I think the Carnegies are keeping those to themselves. But I did access all the information which the other Clans have already received and which the Carnegies neglected to send to you.’
‘I don’t think they’re expecting me to turn up and resurrect the Adairs. In fact, they’re probably hoping that I’ll crawl back beneath the rock they found me under so they can pretend I don’t exist. They certainly won’t want me at the Games.’
‘Byron Moncrieffe seemed to expect you to attend.’
I ignored the slight flutter I felt and focused on what was important. ‘What did you find out?’
‘The opening ceremony will take place on the tenth. It’s the second new moon after the Winter Solstice. It’s also…’
‘Chinese New Year,’ I finished. ‘Is there a link to the Zupu?’ I asked, referring to the Chinese version of our Clans.
‘Not as far as I can tell. I think the ceremony’s always been then. With a new challenge starting every two days and time allowed for the opening ceremony and the prize giving, the Games last for a week. You receive points for how highly you’re placed in each challenge. There’s a sort of league table displayed at the Cruaich’s main door which keeps the tally. Each Clan can field up to five Sidhe but each challenge is a competition for individuals so only one person can win.’
‘No prizes for the runner-up then,’ I said drily. ‘And the challenges themselves?’
‘Taylor was right: Artistry, Adventure and Acumen. You’re allowed to bring one object into the arena for each one. Details of the Artistry challenge have already been sent out so the competitors can prepare.’
He lapsed into silence. Lexie and I stared at him.
‘Well?’ she demanded.
‘Well what?’
‘What is the Artistry challenge?’ I asked. ‘If the others are preparing for it then I need to get ready too.’
Speck dropped his head. ‘You understand that if you do poorly in one challenge you can still make up points in the others. You don’t have to come first in everything. No one ever does.’
‘Speck,’ I said, using my best warning tone, ‘what is the challenge?’
Taylor appeared in the doorway and watched us with interest. Speck looked at him for help but he’d already been rescued once today; it wasn’t going to happen again.
Speck sighed. ‘The Artistry challenge will involve music.’ He crossed his arms defensively. ‘Don’t shoot the messenger.’
I paled. ‘Music? Oh, shite.’
Lexie gazed at me in dismay. ‘You’re screwed.’
‘With time to prepare, I might manage it. Taylor can sing, he could teach me.’ I turned to him.
His eyes were wide with alarm. ‘No, no, no, no, no. We’ve been down that road before. My ears are still bleeding.’
I frowned at him. ‘That was eight years ago, Taylor. I was only a teenager.’ He gestured to his ears, wincing as if in terrible pain. ‘You’re a crappy actor,’ I told him.
‘And you’re tone deaf. A block of wood has more rhythm than you.’
Brochan wandered into the kitchen, oblivious to our glares, and slumped shoulders. He filled a glass with water before realising anything was wrong. ‘What’s up?’
‘Artistry,’ Speck said glumly. ‘It’s the first challenge. Tegs is supposed to prepare something musical.’
Brochan went pale too. ‘Ah.’ He put the glass down carefully. ‘The Adair lands aren’t really that important to you, are they, Tegs? I mean, they’re covered in salt and they’re right next to the Veil. They’ll be more trouble than they’re worth. I vote we all stay here and have a party instead.’
Lexie nodded vigorously. ‘Drinking games, not Sidhe Games.’
I cleared my throat. ‘We have almost two weeks. That’s more than enough time to practise.’
Speck shook his head. ‘We’re doomed. This is going to be the longest two weeks of my life.’
***
Speck may have learned that the Artistry challenge involved music but we didn’t know much beyond that. Taylor sat me down with a triangle, wary reluctance all over his face.
I held it up. ‘A triangle? Really? I’m not going to win any prizes with this.’
‘It’s to get you started. Take the small pointy stick and hit it against the side.’
I gave him a long look. ‘
I understand how a triangle works, Taylor.’ He muttered something under his breath. It wasn’t very complimentary. ‘What was that?’ I asked.
‘Nothing.’ He sighed. ‘I’m going to play you a piece of music. All you have to do is hit the triangle every eighth beat.’
‘Every eighth beat. Got it.’ I paused. ‘Do I hit it hard or softly? Does it matter where I strike it?’
‘Let’s just focus on the beat for now,’ he said firmly. He pressed play. ‘Let’s hear you then.’
I concentrated hard, I swear I did. I heard the first chimes of some classical piece which I was sure I recognised and began to count. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Beat.
‘Integrity!’
‘What?’
‘I said every eight beats.’
‘That’s what I did.’
He ran a hand through his hair. ‘Are you even listening to the music?’
‘Of course!’
He gazed at me, exasperated. ‘So why aren’t you hitting the beat?’
I flicked my hair and pouted while he started plucking the stuffing out of my favourite cushion. Shreds of synthetic wool dropped onto the floor, creating an arc around him as if he could shield himself by dint of polyester. Unfortunately, from that point things went downhill. Three hours later, I was ready to jam the triangle up his nostrils. Preferably the left one – it was hairier.
‘Singing,’ Brochan suggested, appearing when Taylor let out such a howl of frustration that the entire flat shook.
‘You try,’ Taylor snapped. ‘I’ve had enough.’
I watched him leave. ‘I don’t know why he’s so upset. I was trying. We all know music’s not really my forte.’ I smirked. ‘Geddit?’
Brochan was not amused. ‘Let’s try some scales, shall we?’
I only got halfway through the first octave before Bob appeared in a blinding flash of light. ‘Please, Uh Integrity, I can’t take this any longer. I have Amnesty on speed dial and if you continue with this, I shall have no choice but to report you for torture.’ I’d have argued with him if Brochan hadn’t looked so relieved.
I sighed. ‘This isn’t going to work, is it? How bad is it if I place last in the first challenge?’