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Bloodstone

Page 22

by Gillian Philip


  ‘Thought you didn’t love anything.’

  Seth’s eyes were brilliant and intense. ‘Slip of the tongue. But if you insist, there’s one person I do still love. And in the end, he was my only reason.’

  ‘You don’t love Rory,’ Jed snapped.

  ‘Rory? Certainly not. I’m talking about the noble fool who loves a girl who’d drop him like hot silver for the chance to be in her own gang. He loves Finn more than his own life, and he’d have given that up for her like a shot.’

  ‘Aye. That’s what worried me.’

  Seth shut his eyes, sighing. ‘Listen to me, Cuilean: Conal would never have given up your brother. I told you to trust him and you didn’t. You blew it. If you’d stayed with him, put your trust in him... well.’ He shrugged. ‘You didn’t.’

  The blood in Jed’s veins was cold. ‘You took Rory.’

  ‘But Conal never would have. Give up an innocent child? It would kill his soul. Cold iron, Cuilean: I don’t expect you to understand. The thing is, Finn’s death would have done the same. You see? I didn’t have any kind of a choice. My brother will never forgive me for this, but he’ll remain himself. I’ve saved him, Cuilean, at the expense of my own son. Oh, and possibly my own soul, but that was a goner anyway.’

  Jed stared at him. His voice would barely come out, and when it did it was scratchy. ‘And Finn...’

  Seth tilted his head back into the water, took a mouthful, then spat it out.

  ‘Ah yes. Imagine how I felt when I got here. When I saw her. When she told me.’

  An unexpected pity wrung Jed’s guts, but Seth’s expression didn’t change.

  ‘It’s almost irrelevant, though. The child’s bewitched. Literally bewitched, I mean. Spell-bound tighter than a witch’s arse.’ He shrugged. ‘But at least she has her life, and Conal has his soul. It’s as much as I expected. And it’s as I say: Kate’s probably our only hope. I’ll get used to being her henchman. I’ve been that before.’

  ‘You’re not even convincing yourself,’ said Jed, nuzzling Rory’s head. ‘She’ll destroy everything you love.’

  Seth half-smiled. ‘There are few people who know of those things, Cuilean, and you ain’t one of them. I’m out of respectable choices: Kate’s my hope now.’

  Jed wanted to shake him, scream at him. ‘You only have to look at her. I used to think your pal Gocaman was a psycho. Now I’ve met Kate, I know what a real one looks like.’

  ‘You’re a talented whelp, you really are. You’ve got instincts, I respect that, but you don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s more to it than Kate’s personality.’

  ‘Yeah, right. Sure there is.’ Jed picked up Rory, but hesitated. ‘Tell me one thing. Why didn’t she just take him? She could have taken him any time.’

  ‘Ah, no. No, she couldn’t, not if she wanted her blessed prophecy fulfilled. She wanted it done right, and his parents had to abandon him, of their own free will.’ Seth smiled coldly. ‘Well, I did. And his mother would have done, long ago, if not for you. You were quite an obstacle for them, Cuilean. Take a little comfort from that if you like.’ Under his breath he added, ‘I do.’

  Jed shook his head and turned away. ‘Bye, Seth.’

  From the corner of his eye he saw the man’s hand move towards them, but at the last instant Seth clenched his fist and drew his hand back to his side. Jed didn’t look back, but he could feel Seth’s stare between his shoulder blades, and he felt it long after they were out of his sight.

  If there was any uneasiness in Finn’s soul, it was balanced by her livening instincts. She’d known as soon as she was tugged through the watergate that she belonged in this world, and she’d known by some ancestral memory how to free herself from a hungry kelpie. Her mother had become more real to her here than she was at Tornashee, albeit a mother in dreams. And the knife Eili had given her that first night should have felt awkward and strange; instead it had felt like an extension of her hand, and one that she could have used—

  Though against whom, she couldn’t remember.

  Now it was Kate’s stronghold that was rapidly growing familiar. The labyrinth might be contorted, but it felt warm and secure and like home, as if the tunnels had been dug a long time ago through ancient ground where she’d first taken root. Kate had taken her in with no questions asked, she had welcomed her into her inner circle, she listened to her and talked to her and—

  Answered questions.

  Finn rubbed her temple and paused to steady herself on the stone archway. The morning fuzziness – if it was morning; she wasn’t sure – had verged on a headache for about an hour, and she was inclined to blame it on what she’d remembered. She was used to the truth now, that was all, and an unanswered question would fester, now that she recalled it.

  ‘Kate?’

  The woman looked round, smiling, dismissing a disgruntled captain with an idle wave. ‘Fionnuala. Come in; we’re finished for now. Is something wrong?’

  The candle flames in this chamber didn’t glow that unearthly silver they did in the great hall, but a subdued gold that sparked off precious stones and made silk and velvet glow with inner light. God, Kate’s home was beautiful.

  ‘Wrong? Hardly,’ said Finn dryly. ‘No, I had a—I remembered I wanted to ask you something.’

  ‘You can ask me anything I know the answer to. Let’s get those nagging questions out of the way.’ Kate tutted, and murmured, ‘I don’t know what your mother’s been thinking.’

  ‘So,’ Finn lowered her voice. ‘Kate, what’s a fetch?’

  ‘A fetch?’ Kate frowned. ‘It’s a doppelganger. Do you know what that is?’

  ‘Someone’s double. Yes?’

  ‘Yes. But a phantom double. Why do you ask?’

  Finn hesitated, but the thick heaviness was back in her head and she wanted rid of it. ‘I saw one. In the forest. It looked like Conal.’

  Kate took a step back. ‘You saw Cù Chaorach’s fetch?’

  ‘That’s what he said it was.’

  ‘You told him? You told him you’d seen his fetch?’

  ‘Yes. I didn’t know what it was.’ She was sorry she’d asked, now. ‘He seemed upset.’

  ‘I’m not surprised.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Oh, the silly man, he loves to fight.’ Kate laughed. ‘You don’t have to worry any more, Finn.’

  ‘Meaning what? Is it bad?’

  ‘Oh, my dear young woman.’ Kate took her face in her hands. ‘It’s the best news I’ve had in weeks. A fetch is the best of all possible omens. It means Conal is coming to a crossroads in his life, and I suspect that bodes well for peace talks.’

  ‘Peace talks.’

  ‘Yes. Because you’re right, of course, and we can’t go on like this. We’re Sithe and we shouldn’t fight one another; there aren’t enough of us as it is. You’ve made my morning.’

  ‘Well. Good.’

  Kate’s ivory-pale arm rested gently on her shoulders again. The coolness of her touch at least made Finn’s head feel lighter, and she found herself leaning into the queen, and hoping vaguely that she wouldn’t be offended.

  ‘Oh, Finn thank you for this. Now there are things I have to do, but we shall talk later. We have so much to talk about, you and I.’

  Jed hesitated where the passageway opened out to the green pillared space. It was vast, beautiful, ringing with laughter and music. Still, Jed found himself nostalgic for the bare austerity of Kilchoran.

  Kate was draped elegantly across a chaise, laughing at something Laszlo had said. His head was bent close to hers, his fingers resting confidently on her thigh. Finn sat cross-legged on a cushion, watching two women play chess and concentrating on the board. One of the players, small and almost scarlet-haired, caught Finn’s eye, and a look of conspiracy passed between them before she moved her knight.

  ‘Hey, Gealach, cut it out!’ laughed her opponent. ‘I can’t play two of you.’

  Two men strode into the hall, both in combat trousers, khaki shir
ts and mud-spattered jerseys, swords on their backs and bows in their hands. The scarlet-haired woman, forgetting her chess match, leaped to her feet and flung herself at one of them with a shriek of delight. As she clung onto him, legs and arms wrapped round his torso, he dropped his bow to grab her, laughing.

  The other swordsman, heavier-built, head close-shaved, and wearing a plain gold torque round his neck, did not smile. When Kate held out her hand to him he took it and pressed it respectfully to his forehead. Drawing back, he exchanged a look with her and with Laszlo.

  ‘Uncouple yourself, Iolaire, and give us a report.’ Laszlo was all tolerant amusement as Iolaire detached his girlfriend and set her down, kissing her. Watching from his alcove, Jed shivered for Iolaire. Laszlo’s easy geniality was nothing but a mask, and for all the snide remarks about faeries, it was Iolaire who looked like a real human being.

  Kate wasn’t looking at Iolaire any more, or the other fighters. Her golden eyes had sparked with pleasure. ‘Jed. There you are! Come out from there, dear one.’

  Beside the chessboard Finn stood up, smiling a rather awkward greeting. The small group around the chaise turned to look at him in surprise, and the hall fell silent.

  Reluctantly Jed eased out from his archway.

  ‘Oh, don’t look so cowed. I’ve been waiting for you. It’s time for you to go home, that’s all.’

  Jed swallowed, frowned, forced himself to walk forward.

  ‘Me and Rory, you mean.’

  ‘Oh please, don’t tell me what I mean. I can’t bear that.’ Kate lifted her copper hair with one hand and tossed it back over her shoulder. ‘Heaven’s sake, boy. That was a joke!’ She stood and came down to him as the three fighters behind her exchanged glances.

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘You must be longing to get home.’ Gently she stroked his cheekbone, smiling. ‘But Rory? By no means.’

  He jerked away from her touch, clutching Rory. ‘Hang on, you—’

  ‘Now, Jed.’ She took Rory carefully from arms that were suddenly too weak to keep their hold, passing the boy to Iolaire. ‘You’d give this child back to barbarians. Killers. Would that be in his best interests?’

  ‘I wouldn’t go near them!’ Panic rose in his throat.

  ‘Yes, you would. Don’t be disingenuous, dear.’

  ‘I don’t trust them. I don’t trust any of you. I’d take him home.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. He is home.’

  Jed stared up into the face of the swordsman Iolaire, who had looked so human. He had sea-blue eyes, and curling dark brown hair, and a gold ring soldered into his earlobe. He had small scars on his left cheekbone and temple, a mouth with creases where he smiled a lot, a tiny thistle tattoo on his collarbone. He did look human. He looked unhappy, too, and sympathetic, but he held the child firmly out of Jed’s reach.

  ‘You can’t do this!’ yelled Jed.

  ‘No, Cuilean. It’s you that can’t do as you please.’ The second swordsman stepped forward, blocking his view of Iolaire, and seized Jed’s arm. Staring down at him, the man rubbed the palm of his hand distractedly across his shaved head. ‘Would you give your brother to them? What kind of people do you think they are? Cù Chaorach’s woman killed mine, boy.’

  Breathlessly Jed fought back panic as he wrestled his arm out of the man’s grip. ‘In a fair fight, I bet.’

  ‘A fair fight, yes, and one that had no reason to happen in the first place. Bandits.’ The swordsman spat. ‘Killers.’

  ‘All right, Cluaran. Hush, now. There’s no argument.’ Kate touched the man’s arm.

  ‘I only want to take him home!’ Jed screamed.

  ‘That’s enough, Jed. Leave now, and one day you’ll see Rory again.’ Kate nodded to Cluaran, who grasped Jed’s arm again. ‘Give him a horse, Cluaran. A good horse, one that’ll take him where he wants to go.’ Her lips curled in a smile. ‘He mustn’t walk all that way.’

  ‘Kate, please let him stay.’ Finn pushed forward, almost knocking Cluaran over.

  ‘No, Finn,’ said Kate. ‘Jed’s unhappy here. He can’t stay if he isn’t happy.’

  Jed was breathing hard through his nose. ‘I’m going. Don’t worry.’ He looked again at Rory, sleepy and puzzled in Iolaire’s arms. His heart was in shards, but he had no choice.

  Finn grabbed his elbow. ‘Jed – ’

  ‘Forget it, Finn.’ He flung her off. ‘I’ll be back.’

  Kate shook her head, smiling at him slightly. ~ Oh no, Cuilean. No you won’t.

  He shot her a look of pure hatred before jerking his arm out of Cluaran’s grasp and marching ahead of him to the great archway at the entrance to the hall.

  Finn was at his heels, running to keep up. ‘Jed,’ she begged in a low voice. ‘Please. She’ll let you stay if you ask to stay. Please.’

  He couldn’t believe he was walking out of here without Rory, after all that had happened. He couldn’t believe Finn was on Kate’s side. And he could barely believe it, but he didn’t actually care what Finn thought any more.

  ‘Look, Seth’s one of us and he doesn’t think she’s all bad. He’s in love with her.’

  ‘Why can’t you see things right?’ Jed shook his head, staring at her. ‘Seth hates her.’

  Finn looked away, absolute confusion in her eyes. Jed had the feeling she was looking around for Seth, but he was nowhere in sight. Trust him, thought Jed bitterly: well out of the way of a confrontation. Maybe his conscience couldn’t take it. If he had one.

  Grabbing Jed’s arm again, Finn nodded towards Cluaran. ‘You think they can all be wrong? You think he’s wrong?’ she hissed. ‘Eili killed his lover. They didn’t start this war, Jed. Conal did. I love Conal but maybe he’s just wrong, okay?’

  ‘You forget fast.’

  ‘And you’re so pigheaded,’ she snapped back. ‘He got my dad killed, didn’t he? Why do people have to die for Conal’s beliefs?’

  ‘Yeah. Nothing’s worth dying for. That what you think?’

  ‘There’s nothing worth killing for, that’s what I know.’ She glared at him.

  ‘Anything worth living for, Finn?’

  Her fists clenched and her face hardened. The silver light in her eyes was very cold. ‘Think about Rory, Jed.’

  He paled. ‘Don’t ever try that line on me again.’ Turning on his heel he hesitated, his voice trembling. ‘Look after him, all right?’

  ‘We’ll all do that,’ said Cluaran.

  Jed gave him a contemptuous look, then went on before him towards the daylight. He didn’t look at Finn again.

  The sun was blinding as he stepped from the passageway, and only then did he realise how cold and encircling was the darkness in Kate’s stronghold. No windows. Just like Kate, he thought suddenly. No windows, nothing but darkness, nothing to see. The lights are on but...

  A chill shivered through him. Nothing behind her eyes, nothing between her eyes and her brain. No soul.

  A movement to his left caught his eye. Thin, half-translucent, and stripped to the waist, the Lammyr basked on a huge mossy boulder, absorbing sunlight like a pale lizard. Despite the brilliance of the overhead sun it cast no shadow, as if its flesh was too pale and insubstantial.

  Cluaran recoiled, his face twisting with disgust, but it ignored the man, curling upright at the sight of Jed like a slug eyeing a glassful of salt. Its pallid fingers clutched the stem of a wineglass and as Jed stared, repulsed, it took a drink, eyes fixed on him. Jed could see the shadow of the dark red wine slipping down its throat, the stretched muscles working beneath the skin. It set down the glass and grinned, and then it spoke.

  It was the voice of authority, the firm and steady voice of a police officer. It was gruff, reassuring, and completely alien coming from those thin yellow lips. Jed felt for a horrible moment he was back at the Fairy Loch, the water freezing, weed-clammy, ready to swallow him.

  ‘Come on, laddie, it’s not worth it.’ The Lammyr grinned. ‘Calm down now. We want to help. We want to help you and the baby.’<
br />
  Jed swallowed hard, wanting to be sick. ‘You killed my mother,’ he whispered.

  ‘Ingrate.’ The voice had changed altogether. It was like the rattle of bones but it was recognisably human, and he’d heard it before. It was the voice of his mother’s dealer. ‘The killing of her was the making of you. And it wasn’t as easy as it looked.’

  ‘Good.’ Jed’s mouth twisted. Despite the bile in his throat and the horror in his heart, he took an impulsive step towards Skinshanks.

  Cluaran’s hand fell on his shoulder and held him back. ‘Don’t. That’s what it wants.’

  ‘Ach, Cluaran. Don’t be such an old woman.’ Skinshanks drank again, Jed watching the wine go down with a horrible fascination. ‘I like the boy. I like him a lot. I wish I’d had more time with you, Cuilean. See you again, hm?’

  Cluaran growled threateningly and pulled Jed on, more gently this time. In the copse beyond the archway horses stood tethered, and Cluaran brought forward a bay mare with soft silver-pricked eyes. ‘She’s a good girl, this one. She’ll take you where you choose to go. But listen, if I meet you again it’ll be as if I’ve never met you. Do you understand?’

  Jed nodded silently, taking the bay’s reins, unable to speak.

  ‘Don’t be afraid of her, Cuilean. She’s a horse, not a water demon.’ He gave Jed a swift boost onto the mare’s back. ‘All you have to do is hold on. Now go. And remember what I said.’

  He slapped the mare’s rump and she shook her head and moved off in an easy trot. She wasn’t a difficult ride. She guided herself through the forest while Jed held the reins like someone in a trance, not seeing the green and golden light, not hearing the birdsong or smelling the resin of the pines, not even looking back until the mare paused, snorting, at the foot of the hill, where the trees gave way to the moor where he’d run into Laszlo. That seemed like a century ago.

 

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