by Helen Harper
‘Integrity,’ he sighed. ‘I thought we were past all this. What kept you, anyway? Were you admiring the scenery?’
‘I have a dozy mare,’ I pointed out. ‘You have a stallion.’
Byron slowed down until we were neck and neck and looked at me critically. ‘You need to relax,’ he instructed. ‘Sit back in the saddle. You’re not a jockey and this isn’t the Grand National. You’ve been hanging around with your old mentor for too long.’
‘You mean instead of spending more time with stand-up guys, like the Darroch women who can’t even pretend to care about the lives of the Clan-less?’ Byron opened his mouth to answer but I didn’t give him a chance. ‘Or with the Kincaids who think it’s okay to sneer openly at another Clan? You lot spend all this time telling the world that you’re better than everyone else when you all hate each other, snipe at each other and apparently go around trying to kill each other.’
His jaw tightened. ‘I’ll admit,’ he said stiffly, ‘that there are some Sidhe who need to learn both manners and humility. And Sidhe politics can be … bloody. But we are not bad people, Integrity.’
‘Neither are the Clan-less.’
‘Point taken.’
I sniffed. Well, good. Rather than continue spelling out the flaws of the Sidhe, I focused on something less controversial. ‘The Foinse?’ I said, a question in my tone.
‘What about it?’
‘How do you know it’s failing? The magic is still working, right? I’ve almost died twice as proof of that.’
Byron considered my question. ‘You’d know if you spent more time on Clan lands,’ he said. ‘The magic is easier to sense here so it’s easier to notice changes. You’re aware of the change in atmosphere before a storm?’
I nodded. ‘Sure.’
‘Well, it’s a similar kind of thing with the magic. We can feel a difference. Few people have been affected so far but it’s definitely there.’ His face took on a tight, brooding expression. ‘There are always lulls with the Foinse, moments when it’s harder to get a handle on our Gifts, or when things don’t work as they should.’
I absorbed this. ‘And when we reach it and open it, then what?’
‘The representatives here aren’t just along because of their Clan blood.’ Byron nodded towards Aifric. ‘My father is better at telekinesis than I am. He will able to fine tune anything that isn’t working. The Darroch woman – not Mali the Chieftain but the younger one – she’s an expert in dowsing. If there’s a blockage somewhere, she’ll be able to locate it.’
‘Ah,’ I said knowledgeably, ‘so it’s like plumbing then.’
Byron looked amused. ‘Sort of.’
‘And the Kincaids?’
‘Both of them are Gifted in precognition.’
I started. ‘Telling the future?’
‘Not quite as obviously as that. They get glimpses of a future that might be. Which is another one of the reasons that we knew the Foinse was failing.’
‘So if we can fix it, they’ll get glimpses that tell them everything will be okay?’
‘In theory. Precognition isn’t an easy Gift to manage.’
I could well imagine. I resolved to keep well away from the pair of them. Not just because they were snooty Sidhe but because seeing the future was about the creepiest thing I could imagine. If Brochan’s theory about me learning others Gifts was correct, then I had to avoid them like the plague. Half the fun of life was not knowing what came next.
‘What do you know about my father’s Gifts?’ I asked, dropping my voice slightly so that the others wouldn’t hear. ‘You said there were three.’
He looked away.
‘Byron?’ I prodded.
He sighed. ‘I don’t know much. You have to remember I was only seven when all that happened.’
Not to mention that there was a conspiracy to get the world to forget the Adairs ever existed. ‘I know,’ I said aloud, crossing my fingers and making a quick decision to twist the truth wherever possible. ‘But as we suspected I didn’t receive a Gift from the grove and I’m curious about what his were.’
‘I heard it said that one of them was soul punching.’ He still wouldn’t meet my eyes.
Whatever that was, it didn’t sound good. ‘What is that?’ I asked quietly.
A muscle twitched in his jaw. ‘It’s the ability to reach inside a person and kill them. Their soul is attacked and, well, they die.’
I absorbed this information. ‘Is that what happened to everyone in the Adair Clan? He … punched their souls?’
Byron nodded. ‘For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re like that.’
‘You don’t think I’m like a mass murderer? Well, that’s comforting.’
‘I didn’t mean it like that.’
I bit my lip. ‘I know.’ I took a deep breath. ‘I heard a story that my father was possessed by a demon. That it wasn’t him at all.’
‘Apart from one incident when I was a kid, there haven’t been demons this side of the Veil in five hundred years. I’m sorry, Integrity. I realise you don’t want to think ill of him.’
‘I never even met him,’ I said. ‘I don’t know what to think.’ I knew what I saw in the grove, though.
Without warning, Byron released one of his reins and took my hand. He squeezed it tightly. Rather than making me feel comforted, the action made me flinch. I tried to force myself to relax. Byron meant well, after all. He pressed his thumb into my palm, drawing small concentric circles. My eyes shot up. He watched me intently, making my mouth dry. It was getting damned difficult to think with any semblance of coherence.
‘There’s something I want you to know,’ he said awkwardly.
I forgot to breathe altogether. ‘Yes?’
‘That day. When we first met and you were just a kid.’
I stiffened, desire fleeing as quickly as it had arrived. ‘The day you called me pathetic.’
He winced. ‘Yes.’ His fingers tightened round mine again as if he were worried I would escape. ‘I knew that things were difficult for you living with the Scyrmgeours.’
‘Difficult?’ I tried to pull away but his grip was too strong. ‘I wasn’t even given a name, Byron. I was just a thing. The Bull’s hounds were treated like kings compared to me.’
‘If I’d been nice to you that day in front of Tipsania, what do you think would have happened?’
‘How the hell should I know?’ I snapped. ‘I ran away about ten minutes after you pissed off. It was the best thing I ever did.’
A shadow crossed his face. ‘I didn’t know you were going to do that,’ he said. ‘All I knew was that if I showed you kindness, Tipsania would take it out on you later. I was trying to get her to leave you alone. It was clumsy and probably did more harm than good. Honestly though, I wasn’t being mean to you.’
I scanned his expression. He seemed earnest; hell, he seemed more than earnest. ‘Why her?’ I asked. ‘If she’s such a bitch, why are you with her now?’
He cursed under his breath. ‘She’s not a bitch, although I can see why many people think that. I’m not with her either. I just hang out with her sometimes. Really, it’s all politics. Her father has money.’ His eyes narrowed unhappily. ‘The Moncrieffes are broke.’
I tried to keep my expression blank. It wouldn’t do either me or him any favours to point out that I’d worked that out already. ‘How can you be broke? You’re the most powerful Clan.’
‘My father hasn’t gone into details but he’s alluded to plenty. Buying loans, paying for expensive penthouse suites and drinking pink champagne doesn’t help,’ he said, shooting me a wry look. ‘And it’s not easy keeping the other Clans in check.’
I glanced ahead. The Kincaid kid and the Darroch woman, whose Gift was dowsing, were bickering loudly. ‘I’ve seen that,’ I admitted. ‘So he’s spent the Moncrieffe fortune because he’s the Steward. Why not give up the title? Pass on the reins to someone else?’
Byron let out a sharp laugh. ‘I’ve asked him that.
He’s hell-bent on being his responsibilities, though. He doesn’t think it would be fair to quit.’
My eyes fell on Aifric’s back. He seemed relaxed but if I looked closely, I could just see the line of tension down his spine. ‘Maybe the Clan-less don’t have it so bad,’ I commented.
Byron smiled sadly. ‘Maybe not.’
‘Is that why you sleep around?’ I asked curiously. ‘Because you don’t like Tipsania in that way but you can’t tell her directly?’
The atmosphere between us shifted abruptly and he dropped my hand. ‘I didn’t say I didn’t like her. And I’m not the one who sleeps around. I rather think that’s you.’
‘You mean Jamie. That wasn’t a sex thing.’
His emerald eyes flashed. ‘You could have fooled me.’
‘You’re the one with the playboy reputation.’ And the one who continued to flirt outrageously with me.
‘And,’ he said, his voice dangerously soft, ‘I’d have thought that with your reputation, you’d know better than to place credence on such matters.’
‘So you’ve never cheated on poor Tipsy? Because, Byron, we came pretty close.’ I knew there was unreasonable anger in my tone, but I couldn’t help it.
‘I told you, I’m not with her. Besides, you wanted it a hell of a lot more than I did,’ he growled.
He had me there. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t dwell too much on that,’ I spat back. ‘After all, I drop my knickers when any man so much as looks at me.’
His expression darkened. I had the feeling he was tempted to drag me off poor Barbie and shake me. If it hadn’t been for Lily’s timely interruption, he might have.
‘This is fun, fun, fun!’ she exclaimed, dropping back. ‘Can you feel the crickle crackle, Chieftain?’
‘I’m not a chieftain, Lily,’ I said tiredly. ‘What crickle crackle do you mean?’
Byron nudged the black stallion and sped up, joining his father at the front. He didn’t look back.
‘Him,’ she said, in a tone that suggested she was pointing out the obvious, ‘and you. Lots of crickle crackle.’
I stared at Byron. That was certainly one way of putting it. Me and my big mouth.
Chapter Twenty
We finally made camp a few hours after dusk. Byron had resolutely refused to speak to me since our argument and Lily, while fun to have around, was often flighty, taking off in mid-conversation to gallop after a butterfly or a beam of sunshine or whatever happened to take her fancy. I tried to ask her several times what she could tell me about my parents but, whereas before when I hadn’t wanted to know she’d practically begged to tell me about them, now she didn’t seem interested.
I started wishing I could bring Bob out, just so I’d have someone to talk to who wasn’t going to go off on a tangent or sulk. I even wondered if it would be really bad to teleport myself to the Foinse and do my bit then leave. Perhaps the others wouldn’t notice my absence.
Of course, it didn’t help that my arse was incredibly sore. After hours of bouncing up and down in the saddle, I could barely stand when I slid off Barbie. For her part, she seemed unconcerned, nudging me curiously when my legs gave way and I crumpled right next to her. She proceeded to grab a mouthful of my hair and chew on it. The Darroch dowser, whose name I discovered was Diana, found that very funny. I dragged myself up, using Barbie’s bulky frame, rescued my hair, and started muttering.
‘Diana Darroch dowses dutifully. Diana Darroch dowses dutifully. Try saying that five times over,’ I called out to her. ‘It’s a great tongue twister.’
She sniffed and turned her back on me. It was better than the sniggering. I didn’t want anyone sniggering unless it was at one of my jokes.
Once I’d untacked Barbie – which took me far longer than anyone else because I was hurting so much – I watched with interest as Byron used pyrokinesis to light a fire. While the others started cooking, and Lily curled up next to the fire and promptly fell asleep, I wandered off and tried to do the same as Byron. No matter how hard I concentrated, I couldn’t create a single spark. That answered one question at least: it wasn’t enough for me to be in the vicinity of someone when they used their Gift; to learn it – if that was even what I did. I tapped my mouth thoughtfully.
‘Bob,’ I whispered. ‘Are you there?’
There was no answer. I slid out the letter opener and glanced around again to double check that I was on my own. It was just as well that I did because Aifric suddenly appeared from out of the trees.
‘Integrity! You ran off very quickly. We’ve got some food. Come back and join us. We don’t often cook for ourselves, you know,’ he added with a wink. ‘You should enjoy the moment while you can.’
I smiled at him, smoothly returning the blade to my pocket. ‘You’re right. Highborn Sidhe doing the job of a servant? What is the world coming to?’
Aifric appeared very easy going for someone in his position. ‘The others wanted to bring more people along to serve us,’ he confided.
‘You didn’t want them?’
‘The groves are sacred. The Foinse even more so.’
I licked my lips. ‘It regulates all the magic, right?’ He nodded. ‘And the magic affects everyone in some way or another, whether they have Gifts or not.’
‘That’s true,’ he agreed.
‘Well then, don’t keep the Foinse hidden away. It shouldn’t be a matter of privilege. Everyone should be able to see it. It would solve your problem of these soul keys if that were the case.’
He looked speculatively. ‘You’re a lot like your father.’
I blinked. I wasn’t expecting that. ‘What do you mean?’ I asked, carefully.
‘He always thought that power should be spread more evenly. He advocated opening the magical barrier and letting the Clan-less come and go as they please. The other species who work for us receive a higher wage, thanks to his efforts.’
Apart from Lily’s ramblings, this was the first time I’d heard someone say something positive about my father. ‘What was he like?’ I asked, suddenly desperate to know more.
‘He was a good man,’ Aifric said heavily. ‘A very good man. Better than the rest of us put together – but what he did was wrong. It changed the course of history, and not in a good way. But his wife, your mother, died during childbirth and he just couldn’t take it. He went mad.’ Something dark crossed his eyes. ‘Not like the Macquarries, you understand. Theirs was true insanity. No, something dark took hold of your father and wouldn’t let go.’
‘Like a demon?’
Aifric looked at me sympathetically. ‘I’ve heard that story too but it wasn’t that. It couldn’t have been.’ He shook himself. ‘Such a waste,’ he muttered.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear any more. ‘What about my mother?’ I asked.
He smiled, although his eyes were tinged with melancholy. ‘Everyone wanted your mother. She was truly beautiful, inside and out. There were a lot of happy men around the day she rejected the Bull. Of course, she only had eyes for your father.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘C’est la vie.’
I twirled a strand of hair round my finger. I needed to tread carefully. ‘I was in the library the other day. The Cruaich one, I mean. I couldn’t find anything about the Adairs. Anywhere.’
Aifric took my hands. ‘It was a difficult time in our history,’ he said. ‘We tried to keep it as quiet as we could. There are a lot of people in the Clans. We didn’t want the Clan-less to realise we were vulnerable and we definitely didn’t want anyone else getting ideas.’
‘Ideas of genocide?’ I was confused.
‘Some things are better forgotten.’ He squeezed my fingers. ‘Anyway, will you come and eat?’
I was tempted to try and hold him back, to pry out more information. From the look on his face, however, I’d pushed him as far as I could for now. Nevertheless, I decided that it might be worth cultivating my relationship with Aifric Moncrieffe, no matter how his son felt.
I was passed a plate as soon as I sat down. My fi
ngers brushed inadvertently against the Kincaid Chieftain’s as I took it from him. I’d never seen anyone flinch so obviously.
I cocked my head. ‘Do you think that you’ll catch a disease by touching me?’ I asked. ‘Or are you afraid that I’ll take offence that you touched me and murder you tonight in your sleep?’
His younger Clan companion joined him, expression blazing. ‘Adair,’ he snarled. ‘You think you’re important now. Once the Foinse is dealt with, you will crawl back to the dirty hole you came from. You’re no one.’
Aifric threw an arm round his shoulders. ‘Relax, Malcolm. We are all friends here.’
Malcolm Kincaid didn’t look happy but he didn’t throw off Aifric’s arm either. He subsided in a series of grumbles before eventually going to the other side of the fire –as far away from me as possible.
Aware of Byron watching me, I picked up a hunk of crusty bread then said to no-one in particular, ‘A man asked his friend, “Want to hear a joke about butter?” His friend was like, “Sure.” The man thought about it then changed his mind. “Nah, I butter not tell you. You might spread it.”’
They all stared at me. ‘Not my best, I admit,’ I said, then ignored them all and ate my dinner.
*
The next day, as we started to ride again, my muscles screamed with pain. I couldn’t stop thinking about Darth Vader. He was evil. In fact, he was arguably one of the best science fiction villains ever created. When Taylor introduced me to Star Wars not long after I joined him, I was utterly terrified. But I was convinced that, while I might tread on the wrong side of the law and I was far from perfect, I wasn’t evil. And, in the end, as well as the beginning (although I refused to dwell too much on those films), Darth Vader wasn’t bad. He was also Luke Skywalker’s father.
Darth Vader and my dad were not all that different. It’d be nice to think that my father didn’t go in for the whole heavy breathing thing, though – that was just creepy.
‘I’m Luke,’ I said decisively to Lily, who was dreamily gazing up at the sky. ‘I don’t have a light saber – and I wouldn’t want to use it even if I did have one –but I think I’m Luke.’