Bloodstone

by Gillian Philip

  The low winter sun was lovely on the wind-cropped heather, and the mare’s nostrils flared with delight at the long uncluttered stretch of land. Coming to himself, Jed looked briefly to the east and then towards the north west, silently trying to get his bearings after the timeless, directionless darkness of the caverns. Briefly he flailed with his mind, searching, but the effort felt clumsy and amateurish, and besides, he felt as if he’d never connect with another human being as long as he lived.

  The mare turned her head to look back at him, silver light sparking in her gentle dark eyes.

  ‘You’re not a dumb animal,’ Jed told the mare, past the choking misery in his throat. ‘You know where I want to go.’

  Her ears flickered back and she watched him for a moment, blowing softly. Then she trotted forward again and broke into an easy, rhythmic canter before Jed had time to be scared.

  ‘Oh, he can have that one back.’ Kate smiled at Laszlo. ‘I think you’ll find it’s worth it.’

  The horses in the stabling cave moved restlessly, anticipating fresh air and action, silver sparks in their eyes. The twelve fastest were saddled and bridled, four of the riders already mounted. Laszlo’s hand was on his chestnut’s neck, caressing its twitching muscles, but the other hand laced into Kate’s hair, turning her face to him for a long kiss.

  Wish Seth could see that, thought Finn viciously.

  She crouched in the corner of the feed store, nibbling her cuticles, waiting for them to go. Till an hour ago she’d planned to ask permission to go hunting; she was starting to miss the sky. Since Jed’s enforced departure, she’d lost the urge.

  Not in the mood for company, she’d cloaked her mind in the blackest block she could conjure. Not that she couldn’t see Kate’s point; it made complete sense that Jed had to leave. It was only that questions had started to fog her mind again and she hated it, hated it. Damn Jed. He’d whacked her new certainties with a dirty great bludgeon, that was all, and she needed a little time alone to get her balance back.

  And Kate’s mood was so star-bright and bouncy, she didn’t think she could bear it.

  Please go away...

  They didn’t. Too busy flirting.

  ‘I don’t see the point,’ grumbled Laszlo. ‘I thought the whole idea was to break him.’

  Huh, thought Finn, glad that Kate was there to restrain the big thug. Good luck breaking Jed the Ned, pal.

  ‘We will. Him, and Finn’s traitor mother.’ Kate slipped her arms round Laszlo’s waist. ‘Hardly needs Jed to do that.’

  Finn frowned. Wiggled a finger in her ear to clear it.

  ‘Would’ve been better to kill the boy, though.’

  ‘You’re so crude,’ complained Kate.

  ‘Hasn’t bothered you before now.’ A big grin in his voice.

  She slapped his stomach playfully. ‘You don’t kill a man’s soul with a blade or a bullet, you hopeless full-mortal. You do it with love.’

  ‘That’s why the girl’s still breathing, then?’

  Not now, she wasn’t. Finn was very still in the darkness and shadow.

  ‘She will be as long as he is, dear. She won’t stop breathing till Cù Chaorach does.’

  ‘A dozen men and Skinshanks. That ought to do it.’ Kate and Laszlo had moved on into the main stabling cave so that Laszlo could mount. Finn had shut her eyes, but the stupidity of that was too much. She opened them, focused on the slit of silver candlelight beyond the door of the feed store, and the dark block in her mind. Keep it there. Keep it there. Keep it there or die.

  ‘What shall I bring you?’ Laszlo had laughter in his voice.

  ‘Hmm. Let me see.’ Kate tutted softly, as if she was thinking hard. ‘A deer and a fox and a boar. As for the rest: feed the birds.’

  ‘That’ll be my pleasure.’ He kissed her again. ‘More my pleasure than you can imagine.’

  ‘Don’t be sure of that, my love. Happy hunting.’

  In a dull clatter of hooves, the hunting party moved towards the tunnel that would take them out to the hillside. As the hoofbeats picked up speed they echoed and faded, till only silence and a breath of wind filtered in from the outside world.

  If Finn could have pushed herself back through the stone wall behind her, she would. As it was she crouched, very still, letting breath barely stir in and out of her lungs. Kate had paused to murmur to her favourite mare, but at last the silk of her dress whispered as she turned, and Finn smelt her hazelnut scent. Her shoes clicked lightly on stone, and faded past her hiding place, and then Finn did close her eyes, because the wave of happiness threatened to drown her.

  It was seeping from Kate, but it was overwhelming Finn. For a moment the queen’s contentment and delight were hers, familiar and powerful. Finn ground her teeth, bit hard on the inside of her lip. Useless.

  Clutching at her throat, she seized the empty raven’s claw. Faramach, she thought: why did he leave me?

  Because I left everyone else...

  She jerked the slender chain hard to snap it, and the claw fell into her hand. Finn tightened her fist, piercing her flesh with the jagged points of silver.

  It hurt beautifully, so she pressed her other hand to it and forced it deeper. She couldn’t help gasping as the talons plunged deeper into her palm. For only a fraction of a second she thought the pain might make her faint; then her vision focused, and her misty befuddled mind was as clear and sharp as the silver points of pain.

  She stumbled out of the feed store, and ran.

  She found Seth far sooner than she’d expected; halfway down a narrow passageway, an arm shot out and grabbed hers.

  ‘Ow!’ she yelled.

  ‘Shut up.’ Seth flung her into an empty room. ‘Block.’

  As if he had to tell her. She jerked her arm out of his grip, and he saw her bloody palm. He blinked, made a grab for it, but she snatched it away, digging the talons back into their holes.

  ‘What have you done to yourself this time? No, never mind. What’s Kate up to?’

  ‘She’s sending out hunters.’

  ‘Now?’

  ‘Twelve. And the Lammyr.’ She gulped down nausea. ‘It’s just a hunt. But—’

  He shook his head impatiently. ‘Never mind hunting. What’s she so unnervingly happy about?’

  ‘I think...’ Tears of uncertainty burned her eyes; then she took a breath. ‘Conal’s fetch.’

  Seth went white, his eyes dilating in the shadows. ‘What?’

  ‘I saw a fetch. Conal’s. That first night, while you were hunting. I told Conal, but he wouldn’t tell me what it was. I told Kate and she’s been like a pig in shit ever since.’

  ‘Jesus. Gods.’ Oddly enough for Seth, he didn’t sound as if he was swearing. He sounded as if he was calling for help. Hands splayed on his mouth, he stared at her. ‘Oh gods, what have we done with you? Why wasn’t I told?’

  ‘You weren’t there.’ She trembled. ‘And Conal told me not to tell you.’

  ‘I’ll bet he did.’ Seth snatched up the sheathed sword that lay on a bench behind him. ‘Where’s Jed?’

  Finn paled, realising he didn’t know. ‘Jed’s gone.’

  ‘What? When?’

  ‘Two hours ago. Kate made him leave.’

  She didn’t think Seth could go any whiter, but he did. As his hand shot out to her throat she flinched, but he only seized the empty raven’s claw. ‘Where’s your stone?’

  ‘Fell out. Kate’s got it.’ She felt sick.

  ‘That explains a lot.’ He finished buckling on his sword and tucked his shirt into his jeans. ‘Otherwise you might have the brains to know it.’

  Her whole body felt bloodless. ‘Know what?’

  ‘That there’s only ever one reason to send out a Lammyr.’ He strode from the room without looking at her again.

  The pain in her hand was gut-sickening now and she thought, for a moment, she was going to pass out. Gritting her teeth, she clenched her fist on the claw again, and the distant sounds of the hall finally encroached on
her brain.

  She heard the click of Gealach’s chess pieces, the whicker of horses in the stabling cave, the slow thrum of a distant mandolin, a ripple of laughter among men and women just back from a patrol. After a little, it occurred to her that she hadn’t breathed for a while, so she took a gasping breath, and that allowed her limbs to move.

  She ran.

  The stronghold was a maze of tunnels, but some compartment of her mind recognised Seth’s path as clearly as if he’d left prints in snow. She didn’t pause to question the knowledge; but pelting round a corner at full tilt, she skidded to a halt.

  Five women were ahead of her, walking abreast and talking in low laughing voices, effectively blocking her way.

  Finn blinked. She could be back in the corridor at school, with Shania’s gang approaching and no way of avoiding them. Her heartbeat tripped and thudded, then as her vision cleared a voice called out her name, including her in their gossip and their company.

  And she’d fallen for it.

  She’d argued with Conal barely a month ago, screaming with rage, taking it out on him instead of Shania’s gang. One day I’ll be One Of Them!

  Oh, no you won’t. You’re better than that, Finn.

  She hadn’t been better than that. She’d pawned her soul to be in a gang. What was it going to take to get it back?

  The women had fallen silent, bewildered, glancing uneasily at one another. Finn made herself smile, though she was picturing Jed as he walked out of Kate’s caverns and it made her feel as sick as if a Lammyr had run pale fingers through her hair.

  Tears sheened her eyes and the women blurred. Gealach walked tentatively forward, but she desperately did not want the woman to touch her. Her self-respect was balanced on a wire, and if Gealach touched her it would spin down irretrievably into the gaping hole where her pride used to be.

  ‘Finn?’

  She ran for them, barging through as if they were thistledown, and sprinted on in Seth’s path. They could never catch her. Every feeling she had was concentrated in the palm of her hand, and the rest of her body felt as if it was flying. She could run this fast forever.

  ‘Finn!’ The cry went up behind her, anxious and desolate. Her heart ached. She did like them, she liked them a lot. They were like her: they believed Kate, trusted Kate... she beat away the regret and kept running. They’d be all right. She’d be all right too, if she could—

  The passageway ended abruptly in a forest clearing. Finn glanced over her shoulder, expecting the entrance to have vanished like a magic trick. But there it was, a stone arch rather smaller than the main one. Around her the sun filtered through winter-bare branches and yellowed larch, and the forest litter beneath her feet was crisp with a delicate rime of frost.

  She took a shocked breath and turned. Seth stood watching her, a shadow among tree shadows, his sword in his hand, the blade glinting dull grey as his eyes. His stillness was eerie.

  He hefted his sword, flipped and flung it hard and straight at her.

  Reflexively she shut her eyes. It was all she had time to do. She felt the blade’s whisper along her flesh, the sudden bite of cold where it sliced the fabric of her shirt. And then a rattling dry-bone sigh echoed in her ear, and a clammy weight sagged against her shoulder.

  She gave a shuddering sob of revulsion. Panicking blindly she scrabbled at the thing that lay dead against her, but her hand was slippery and clumsy with her own blood, and she was dizzy with nausea. She couldn’t get rid of it. Seth had to grab it by the skinfolds of its neck and fling it aside.

  Ignoring her, he snatched up his blade and thrust it into an ice-fringed burn on the edge of the clearing. When he drew it out, it was clean of the pale ooze of Lammyr blood.

  ‘Wild running water,’ he remarked, to the air rather than to Finn. ‘There’s a stroke of luck.’ Reaching deep into a jagged gap between two stones, he drew out a bridle and flicked dead leaves off it. The blue roan moved in the shadows beyond the clearing, and he slipped the bridle over its head. ‘Block, you wee fool, or you’ll be the death of me.’

  ‘I am blocking,’ she stammered. ‘You saved my life.’

  His voice dripped contempt. ‘Don’t take it personally.’

  She shivered. ‘Thanks anyway.’

  ‘Wish I could stay and chat, but I’ve an urgent meeting.’ He scrambled onto the horse’s back and took up the reins. ‘Bye, Finny.’

  ‘Seth!’ she screamed as Branndair loped past.

  He spun the horse and looked at her hatefully. ‘Stay with your coven, Dorsal. You’re happy here, aren’t you? Finally, somewhere you belong.’

  She tore after him, stumbling on fallen branches, just snagging the horse’s reins in her fingertips as it whirled on its hind legs and bared its teeth, the toss of its massive head pulling her off her feet. Seth raised a hand to strike her away.

  ‘You too,’ she gritted fiercely. ‘Did you belong here too?’

  ‘I haven’t got time for this.’ He glanced back at the stone archway.

  ‘Give me some time, you selfish bastard!’

  ‘Ooh, that’s a common mistake.’ He grinned, hauling hard on the horse’s mouth so that its teeth couldn’t close on her arm. ‘You’re mixing me up with someone who gives a spider’s fart what you think of me.’

  She gasped with the effort of holding on as the roan swung its muscled neck violently. Her arms felt as if they were popping out of their sockets but she wouldn’t cry. If she cried she’d be left behind and if she was left behind she would die. ‘You cared what Kate thought!’

  ‘Big misjudgement, much like hers. Oh, you fell for Kate, didn’t you? What did she do, come into your dreams? That’s how she got me.’

  ‘I didn’t know her. I thought it was Mum, I thought she—Mum. The right part of her...’

  ‘Your real mother,’ he sneered. ‘You thought she was your real mother. Better than the one you had.’

  Finn gave another desperate sob.

  ‘Ah, she’d have to use dreams till she got that shield stone off you. It could protect your conscious mind but it couldn’t keep her out of your dreams, not our Kate. Isn’t she lovely? All that charm! All that ostentatious compassion! Ah, Finny, it rubs off like a cheap child’s tattoo, and then you get to see the malice, and that gets wearing, let me tell you. But I never gave a toss for her, never. I hadn’t a choice. I had no choice.’

  ‘So why are you leaving?’ She shut her eyes tight and gritted her teeth. Soon she would let go and fall, and if the horse didn’t kill her Kate would. Only to spite Conal. Only to spite him... A fire was burning in her palm where her blood soaked the reins.

  Seth sighed. ‘Don’t get me wrong, now. I’m not responsible for your little boyfriend and I never will be. But I’m not going to let Laszlo murder my son’s brother.’

  ‘Seth.’ Her grip was failing, her ears roaring. ‘Going to let him murder me?

  He looked down at her, unblinking. Through the sweat that stung her eyes he did look like a falcon, she thought irrelevantly, and a rabbit’s last sight of a striking talon probably looked much the way his hand looked, raised above her head.

  His fingers clenched and unclenched and then, instead of striking her, he reached down and seized her arm, effortlessly swinging her behind him onto the roan’s back. He gave her no time to draw breath before he kicked the horse into a furious gallop.

  Gripping him for dear life, she felt his shirt wet beneath her hand and knew, sickeningly, that it was her blood soaking it. She pressed her cheek to his back and locked her arms harder around his waist, knowing with only seconds to spare that she was going to lose consciousness. And then she did.

  When she opened her eyes, surfacing through a haze of pain, something was wrong with the view. It took a moment to register that she was looking at the horse’s neck, not at Seth’s back, and he was steadying her with an arm round her waist. Groggily she glanced over her shoulder. Despite the winter bite of the wind Seth was stripped to the waist, the bloodstained shirt twisted a
nd knotted round his own waist and hers, tying her to him. Part of a sleeve had been roughly hacked off and wrapped round her hand. Despite the throb and sting, she grinned and shook her foggy head.

  ‘You big soft git.’

  A grunt was the only reply she got as he goaded the roan back to a gallop, the burst of speed whipping any more smart remarks back into her throat. Then, horribly, she remembered.

  ‘Rory,’ she shouted, half-turning. ‘I promised Jed I’d take care of him.’

  ‘You?’ he barked. ‘You can’t even stay awake to save yourself. You nearly fell off!’

  Somehow Finn knew from the way he said it that he’d almost let her go, let her fall. She wondered what had stopped him.

  Seth reined the roan back to a canter and sighed, his voice softening a little. ‘The best thing you can do for Rory is stop Laszlo killing his brother. Kate’s people will look after him, better than you ever could. You think I liked leaving him? But Kate won’t harm him. We have friends in a lot more danger than that baby.’

  She thought for a moment, as the wind speed stung her skin. Friends. Danger. Oh, God.

  ‘Does this thing go any faster?’

  ‘Are you going to faint again?’ he asked with mild contempt.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then sit behind. And hold on. And shut up.’

  The bay mare blew gently, ears flicking, and Jed laid his fingers against her neck to feel the soft prickle of horsehair, damp sweat, the warmth of blood in her veins. She felt placid and solid and normal, and it seemed to Jed she was the only thing locking him down to reality. All the same, he wouldn’t mind terribly if she stumbled, if he fell and was killed beneath her.

  Someone was riding fast towards him across the rock-strewn plateau, but Jed’s eyes were hot and blurred, and anyway, he didn’t care enough to look. He didn’t know if the rider was friend, foe or indifferent stranger and he’d stopped caring somewhere in the middle of the valley. His mother was dead. He was trapped in a place where he didn’t belong, and the only alternative was a place where he didn’t exist. He knew he had no chance of getting back to the caverns, that he would never see Rory again, that there was no longer a life much worth living for him.