Bloodstone

by Gillian Philip

  ‘Your long, long exile at an end. The sons of Griogair on my right and left hand. The Sithe united. The Sithe surviving, strong and wise and in control. The full-mortals...’ She shrugged. ‘Their minds... adjusted. Happier than they are now. Disinclined to kill us all. Utopia, Murlainn.’

  ‘We’re not made for Utopia,’ I said. ‘We’re not made for peace.’

  ‘What a ridiculous thing to say.’

  ‘We’d quarrel. The Sithe do. So do the full-mortals. You know it would end in war.’

  ‘And there speaks an addict. You love to fight, Murlainn, don’t you?’ There was anger in her golden eyes. ‘But there are other ways, other lives you could live. Don’t you believe a people can change? You’ve seen yourself change. You’ve seen...’ Her voice gentled. ‘You’ve seen a full-mortal change. You’ve seen a full-mortal come to love a Sithe.’

  I couldn’t answer her.

  She laid her fingers against my lips. Gods help me, I kissed them.

  ‘Ah, Murlainn. I’m not asking you to betray your brother, I’m asking you to talk to him. Persuade him. Bring peace between us. If you can do that, you save us all. And I won’t harm Cù Chaorach, you have my word.’

  ‘Your word,’ I repeated slowly.

  ‘My word. You know that’s something I can’t break, even if I want to. And I don’t. You have my word. What is there to lose, Murlainn?’

  It stuck in my throat. So hard to say. But I managed.

  ‘My soul?’

  Sighing, she stepped back. I forced my body not to follow.

  ‘Consider what I’ve said, that’s all. Think about your race, Murlainn.’ Briefly she touched my forehead once more. ‘And think about theirs.’

  I watched her as she walked away, calm, her back turned on me in complete trust. By the time my foot knocked against my scabbarded sword, and I glanced down at it in shock, she had vanished into the darkness. My hand trembled as I lifted it. Branndair watched me as I strapped it to my back, and as I stroked his head, my fingers still shook.

  I headed straight back, but I’d come too far on my hunt. I had time to think, time for my brain to gnaw constantly, pointlessly at what had happened. At moments I didn’t believe she’d been real, and I knew it was all a dream just like the others. And then I’d catch the scent of her on my hands and skin, and I’d know it had happened exactly as I remembered it.

  I wouldn’t tell them. What would I say? I imagined Conal’s reaction when he heard of the dreams, when he heard I’d kept so much from him. I imagined Sionnach’s incredulity, Eili’s scorn and her contemptuous laughter, and that decided me. Nothing was going to come of this. If Kate wanted to talk to Conal, she could come to him, shag him in his dreams. I wasn’t her messenger boy. Come to that, I wasn’t her fighting man. I was Conal’s.

  The roan was skittish, excited by the smell and the bloody weight of the deer slung across his haunches, and it took me effort to control him, effort I could have done without. I found myself in a magnificent temper. Even Branndair was quiet, cowed by my mood, so when he pricked his ears and shot ahead, I knew what it must mean. Peering into the trees, I saw the white shadow, and my relief was hedged with dread.

  It was just as Sionnach had said. What was wrong with me?

  Branndair bounded up to Liath, who made a bossy swipe at his head. Rolling over submissively, he nibbled at her furry white throat and whined with delight; Liath straddled him, playbiting his muzzle. I gave him a disapproving scowl, but he was too happy, and too submissive, to take any notice.

  Conal rode out in the wake of his wolf, grinning. His old leather jacket was slung across his horse’s withers, his black-hilted sword was strapped to his back, and his slate-blue shirt was dappled in bloodspots.

  Drawing his horse alongside the roan, he leaned over to lock a forearm round my neck, and planted a huge smacker of a kiss on my cheek. ‘Laddie. I missed you! What kept you?’

  I wrestled his arm off my throat and dug him in the ribs with an elbow. ‘Less of the laddie, you big tosser. What d’you mean, what kept me? This buck didn’t want to cooperate, funnily enough.’

  ‘Finn?’ His voice was tense.

  ‘We’ve got her. You must have known that?’

  ‘I thought so, but...’ He frowned. ‘There’s a lot of interference in the air. You’ve felt it?’

  I shrugged, not meeting his eyes. ‘She can’t do that kind of thing. Even Kate—’

  ‘Who knows what she’s capable of these days? It’s been a long time. If she gets her way and destroys the Veil, she’s going to want to be strong enough to take advantage, isn’t she?’

  ‘She won’t get her way.’ I wished I felt as confident as I sounded.

  ‘We’ve still got time, if my mother sees sense.’

  I didn’t say a word to that.

  ‘The way back to the watergate’s clear for now. If nothing else, she’ll surely want to see Finn safely home?’

  ‘And Jed.’

  ‘And who?’ He reined in the black and stared at me.

  ‘You heard right. And you want to hear the bad news? He found a gun in the loch. It’s Laszlo’s.’

  ‘Oh, Jesus.’ Even in the darkness, I saw his skin pale.

  ‘I take it you haven’t dealt with Laszlo, then.’

  ‘He wasn’t with his patrol. It was his lieutenant. That bastard Easag.’

  ‘Uh-huh. But you dealt with him?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Halting the roan, scowling, I grabbed a fistful of Conal’s hair and stared into his eyes. Blood and steel, sweat and death.

  ‘Yow.’ I let him go. ‘That won’t go down too well.’

  ‘He started it.’ He gave me a wry grin as we rode on. ‘And Laszlo’s not going to be leaving us alone now anyway, is he?’

  The sheltered glow of a fire was visible now, so we dismounted and led the horses into the thicker undergrowth. I sensed Finn and Jed; as for the others, they were blocking so determinedly, the first evidence of them was the white double-blur of two blades coming unsheathed a foot from our faces.

  ‘Woman!’ Conal grinned. ‘You’ll have somebody’s eye out!’

  Eili slung her swords back into their sheaths with thoughtless precision and flung herself at him. Finn lurched forward but Conal wasn’t even looking at her. Pushing his long fingers through Eili’s spiky hair, Conal was kissing her like he wanted to eat her, or ideally, be eaten. I rolled my eyes and sighed.

  ‘What time of night d’you call this?’ asked Sionnach, but Conal wasn’t listening and neither was Eili.

  ‘He wouldn’t need mouth-to-mouth,’ muttered Finn, ‘if you let him breathe.’

  Laughing, letting go of Eili, Conal hugged her. ‘And what,’ he asked fondly, ‘do you think you’re doing here?’

  ‘Kind of an accident.’ She pulled back and grinned.

  It was a little odd, the look in her eye. Happy, relieved, but there was a touch of smugness too, as if she and Conal shared a secret no-one else was privy to. I frowned.

  ‘You can explain yourself later, toots,’ he growled.

  ‘You too.’ She winked.

  His grin was a little puzzled, but he turned to the boy.

  ‘Hello, thief,’ he said, and pulled him into a bear hug.

  Jed’s look of frazzled fear had given way to bewilderment, almost matched by mine. Seemed I wasn’t the only one with secrets. As Conal let him go Jed stumbled back, disoriented, and scratched absently at Liath’s thick-furred neck. She sniffed at him with mild interest and licked his fingers. Jed snatched his hand away, then laid it tentatively back on the wolf’s head.

  ‘You’ve been gone too long this time, Cù Chaorach,’ said Eili, who couldn’t keep the ridiculous smile off her face.

  ‘Tell me about it. Brought you a present, though. Eili, you should come over the Veil once in a while, it’s not so bad. The shopping! You’re a wumman! You’d love it!’

  Eili smiled drolly at Finn, but the bonding attempt fell flat. Finn only glowered at her, and Eili
switched off her smile in an instant. Oblivious to the female politics – gods help him – Conal kissed Eili’s nose and stuck a pair of Ray-Bans on it.

  I wasn’t sure I liked Eili’s eyes being invisible; actually it made my flesh prickle.

  ‘And you sorted the patrol?’ she asked him.

  ‘Easag’s dead,’ I interjected, tired of being irrelevant.

  ‘That’ll make the return journey interesting.’ Eili rolled her eyes. ‘I thought the strategy was to avoid trouble, not go looking for it under stones.’

  ‘The boy,’ I said, nodding at Jed.

  Conal glanced at him, then scowled at me. ‘Shut up, Seth.’

  Jed blinked at us. What, had it only just occurred to him? I’d told him he was a fool for taking the gun. If he wasn’t dead, it was because someone else was dead in his place, and that was Conal’s doing.

  I bared my teeth. ‘Look a little more grateful, Cuilean.’

  He paled, but before he could react Conal did a double take. ‘What did you call him?’

  ‘Yeah. Funny, eh?’

  ‘No, it bloody isn’t.’

  ‘What are you—?’ Jed began.

  ‘Sod that. What’s with the name? I don’t like—’ Conal took a breath, frowning, and looked up. ‘Where’s my mother?’

  ‘There.’ Finn jerked a thumb over her shoulder, then gave a little gasp and touched the green stone at her throat, as if it had burned her. She spun round to stare at a flattened patch of grass.

  Leonora wasn’t there. The shadow of her, that was all.

  In the silence, a branch on the dying fire broke and collapsed in a small eruption of sparks. Conal stared first at Leonora’s empty space, then at Finn.

  ‘Where’s my mother?’ A voice as cold as the breeze.

  Finn bolted, and the rest of us followed. Conal overtook me and caught Finn on the edge of the trees, snatching her arm so that she half-stumbled. The black horse came right to Conal’s side, nuzzling his neck fondly as if to stop him spontaneously combusting. Conal clasped Finn, holding her steady as she peered desperately across the starlit machair, his other hand laced into the white wolf’s mane.

  ‘There. She’s there.’

  Damned if I could see her, even on the moonlit plain, but Conal grinned humourlessly. ‘She’s an old deceiver, Finn. You weren’t to know. Stay here, the lot of you.’

  He caught the cheekpiece of the black’s bridle as it surged forward. As he sprang onto its back it was already running. He ducked the last branch as it plunged out of the trees.

  Finn had the look of a slapped infant, all shock and red delayed pain. I’d thought she wouldn’t understand. Now I was fearful, suddenly, that she would.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I muttered, uselessly.

  ‘Why would I worry?’ She threw me a contemptuous glare, as well she might. ‘I’m not clever enough to imagine what the hell they’re up to.’

  Her fists were clenched, her whole body trembling. I nipped my lip, and searched the darkness around us as I avoided her hostile, grieving eyes.

  Gods, I was going to regret this.

  I called the roan.

  We didn’t have far to ride. Beyond the grassy plain of the machair there were low hills of sharp rough grass, then dunes, hard sand and the vastness of the sea. Finn gripped the roan’s mane hard, and her whole body in front of me was tense as a bowstring, but she hadn’t hesitated. I could only admire her surly nerve in reaching for my arm when I’d offered it to her, and climbing back on a horse that had just tried to eat her.

  The roan wasn’t interested in her this time. It slid down a shifting dune almost on its haunches and thundered down onto the beach. The black horse was not thirty yards ahead, Conal trotting it first one way and then the other along the edge of the water.

  The silvered bay was maybe a mile long, flanked by bulky headlands that spilled a tumble of rocks to the sea. The black-bellied waves were fringed with phosphorescence, and against their light was a figure: too tall, too lanky to be Leonora, hunched into a long coat with an upturned collar. The coat that was no coat moved and glistened like a wet pelt. The creature wearing it turned, and I sucked in a cold salty breath.

  No going back, I thought. Not for us, not for Leonora.

  The black pawed the hard sand and whinnied, but Conal only stared at the thing. I’d never seen one in the cold wet flesh before, but I knew well enough what it was. Its long-boned face was covered in a thin layer of sleek grey hair and its eyes were black from corner to corner, like a seal’s. Conal’s horse called to it again, familiarly, gills flapping open and shut.

  ‘Mother!’ Ignoring the creature at the water’s edge, Conal yelled, ‘Leonora!’

  ‘Conal, my darling!’ The voice floated down from the cliff above us. ‘Of course you know you have company?’

  We could make out the old woman now, standing quite still, right on the edge, gazing down. In front of me Finn shuddered with vicarious vertigo.

  Wheeling the black on its haunches, Conal rode back to us, throwing me a glare. I met it with one of my own, and he could only look away, at Finn, his face softening. I resisted the urge to put an arm round her waist and hug her. It wasn’t that difficult, since she oozed poisonous resentment.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

  She was too choked with angry emotion to answer him. Conal seemed to hesitate for a moment, then he flicked the reins and turned back to the cliff.

  ‘Mother! Don’t do this to us! To her!’

  ‘Conal MacGregor,’ Leonora chided. ‘I don’t expect much from your half-brother, but have you no respect?’

  Conal glared up at her. ‘Seth is my brother and he’s all I’d ask of one.’

  ‘Of course. I apologise.’ Leonora’s voice was clear on the still air. Then I saw what was behind her on the rocks: another Selkyr in its silvery rippling coat. Leonora glanced back at it, smiling.

  She turned back to Conal and his horse. ‘Clever Finn,’ she called. ‘How talented you are! I should have confiscated that wretched stone.’

  In front of me, she trembled and clasped her pendant.

  ‘For gods’ sake, Mother. The dun’s shield, all our protection. It goes with you!’

  ‘All the same, my Conal. You can hardly expect me not to go.’

  Finn’s head whipped round and she hissed at me, ‘What’s happening?’

  I shrugged, avoiding her glare again. ‘Nothing we can stop. Keep your mouth shut. Leave it to Conal.’

  He yelled, ‘You don’t have to do this! You could have stayed on the other side. Lived!’

  ‘What? You’d consign me to madness and rot, darling boy? Just for one last try at the Stone?’

  ‘Why not? It’s what you’ve lived for! It’s what you stayed for!’

  Leonora gave a deep gurgling laugh. ‘That’s the difference between us, Conal. I know when I’m beaten. Wait till it’s your turn, hm? You won’t stay, either. You’ll run back where you belong, as fast as you can. You’ll die as you should and where you should. You’d be a fool not to.’ She hesitated. ‘There comes a time when they all must shift for themselves.’

  ‘Indeed.’ Conal’s voice hardened, and something cruel crept into it. ‘Just so you understand, Mother, I’m taking Finn to the dun.’

  For a moment Leonora lost her diamond-hard cockiness. ‘Conal, you can’t...’

  ‘I’ve had enough, Mother. She’s here. You brought her, and it isn’t my fault, and I’m sick of it. Stella can shift for herself. In fact, Stella can go hang.’

  I should have swelled with self-righteous satisfaction. Instead I felt cold and unsure.

  ‘That’s between you and your sister,’ said Leonora sadly. ‘I have no say in it any more.’

  ‘You told me,’ Conal shouted, ‘you told me the child needed you!’

  ‘She had me.’ Leonora gave a complacent shrug. Despite the Selkyr behind her, she didn’t look trapped. She looked smug, as if she’d caught up with something she’d been chasing for a long time.
<
br />   ‘This isn’t right,’ whispered Finn, to no-one in particular. ‘It isn’t right.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘It is.’

  She went rigid as steel, and I realised she was crying.

  Conal gave a frustrated yell of rage and grief. ‘Weren’t you going to say goodbye? MOTHER?’

  ‘Ah, Conal, you’d only try to talk me out of it. And that would be terrible for both of us.’ As Leonora’s breezy voice drifted down from the headland, I had to admire the cool of her. Heedless, I thought. Not innocent, not unfeeling: just very, very heedless, as if Leonora could see the long run, and feelings came to nothing in it. ‘Goodbye, then!’

  Finn’s fingers were wrapped so tightly in the roan’s mane, it was snorting irritably. ‘This is what it was about? This? The care home was a lie. I can’t believe I was so stupid!’

  ‘You weren’t stupid,’ I muttered. ‘You heard what you expected to hear. That’s not a magic spell.’

  ‘Conal! Finn!’ For the first time there were tears in the old woman’s voice. ‘I loved you.’

  She turned into the arms of the thing behind her. Its shimmering coat coiled around both of them, sheathing them like a pelt, and as one they toppled from the rocks. There was barely a splash as they plunged into the water.

  Conal stared at the spot where his mother had vanished. Nothing surfaced. Not even bubbles.

  Silence echoed, and then Finn screamed. ‘Where’s she gone?’

  Slowly, reluctantly, he rode back, and stopped alongside us. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘You don’t know!’ She lunged and struggled as I gripped her arm.

  ‘No, I don’t know, I don’t remember.’ He was in a daze. ‘Back where she came from? Maybe we’ll all know it when we get there.’

  Finn’s breathing was high and hard, but she’d weakened with shock. ‘You let her—’

  ‘It’s not a question of letting her. She did it, that’s all.’ Conal nudged the black away so he wouldn’t have to look into her eyes any more. ‘You shouldn’t have brought Finn here, Seth.’

  I said nothing. Thank the gods, Finn didn’t either. I didn’t think anything needed saying. Instead I turned the roan after him.