Seth rested his arm across his eyes as he leaned back. Rory glanced back at Hannah, still gazing at the bobbing heads of the seals and talking incessantly to Sionnach.
‘Rory,’ said Seth after a moment. ‘You can’t have her.’
Rory tugged his hand out of Seth’s, stiffening. ‘What d’you mean, can’t?’
‘I mean you mustn’t. Rory. If all you wanted was each other, it’d be fine.’ Seth took his arm away from his eyes, but he went on staring at the sky. ‘But she’ll get broody, a gràidh. She’ll want kids, and so will you. All of us do, we’re never indifferent. It’s too difficult for us to have them.’
‘So why can’t we?’ Rory’s voice was sullen.
‘Ach, Rory, there’s so much I’ve never told you. I thought I had all the time in the world, and I didn’t. Look, Hannah’s your cousin. You have the same blood and you can’t mix it. The gene pool’s shallow enough, Laochan.’
‘Oh. That’s what she talked about.’ Rory paused. ‘And that’s why we can’t have kids?’
‘Same as I told you. Not can’t. Mustn’t. Why d’you think we keep track of our families? Why do you learn your birth name to four generations, Rory MacSeth MacGregor MacLorcan MacLuthais?’
Rory didn’t smile. ‘You’re related to Finn, Dad.’
‘No, Rory. Conal was, but I’m not. He and I had different mothers. And Reultan wasn’t Griogair’s.’
‘Right.’ Rory stood up. ‘Right, Dad. I’ll bear all that in mind.’ He walked back to the stern of the boat, knelt down next to Hannah and put his arm ostentatiously round her shoulders.
Seth watched him for a moment, then got up and went to Finn. She was propped against the cabin bulkhead, staring back at the grey dawn-lit headland they’d left for the last time. Branndair lay at her feet, still not speaking to Seth after the indignity of having a bag tied over his head and being dragged with a rope through the flooded section of tunnel. Seth propped himself beside Finn, their shoulders touching.
He reeked of blood and smoke and sweat and death, but then so did she.
‘You stink,’ she said fondly.
‘You too. I love you.’ As he turned and kissed her, he caught sight of his reflection in the cabin window. ‘Gods,’ he said softly. ‘Sure you still fancy me?’
She took his face in her hands and kissed the hideous gash on it. ‘I love you more than my life. I’m going to look after you. It’ll be all right, you’ll see.’ She kissed the cut on his cheekbone, the one on the bridge of his nose, the ugly swelling on his jaw, his half-shut eye that drooped slightly because of the cut nerves. ‘You’re lovely. Always will be. Can’t help yourself, gorgeous.’ Her lips moved to the next wound, and the next bruise.
‘I failed, Finn.’
She kissed the corner of his eye. ‘You got Rory back. You came back to us and saved us. Sh! As many as you could, as many as anyone could. Anyone,’ she repeated fiercely. ‘How’s that failing?’
‘I’m so sorry, Finn. For what happened to you.’
‘You weren’t to know.’ She hesitated. ‘Conal wouldn’t have done anything different. He’d be proud of you. Okay?’
Gratefully he pressed his face into her hair and shut his eyes.
‘Seth, you saved Hannah. I know you don’t want to hear this, but you paid for Conal.’
He went very still, but she slipped her fingers beneath his t-shirt, running her fingertips along the ridges and furrows of the gouged scars on his back. ‘See all this?’ she whispered. ‘That’s not what made up for it.’ Her touch strayed to the old crossbow marks, finally healed and hard and insensitive, but his skin shivered anyway. ‘These didn’t either. None of that made up for Conal. Hannah did. You saved his child. That’s it, understand? That’s the end of it, Seth.’
Because, damn it, all the pain in the world couldn’t pay for Conal, but Seth had put his life up as a forfeit. Not to satisfy his clann’s honour, she thought bitterly, and not to feed Eili’s vengeance, but just to save a girl he barely knew. He’d made the sacrifice that mattered and it was about life and love, not pain and death.
Tentatively Seth opened his mind and for the first time since his return to the dun, slipped his consciousness inside hers. He had never been so relieved in his life when he felt the connection spark. His fingers found hers and held them fiercely.
‘Oh. Kate has nothing of yours, Finn. She can’t split us. Thank the gods.’
‘She expected me to be dead by now.’ She eyed him askance. ‘And quit that. You don’t believe in gods.’
‘Oh, aye, that’s right. Neither I do.’ Eyes still shut, he breathed the scent of her hair, then turned to look back at the paling sea. ‘Pity, really. ’Cause it’d be nice if Eili found Conal.’
Finn stared straight ahead. ‘Yes. Well. I mean, she did. I think… I know she did.’
He pulled her round to face him. Her black hair was disordered, breezing across her face, and he pushed a strand of it out of her eye. He said nothing, only looked.
Finn put the pad of her forefinger against the hollow of his throat, feeling his pulse in her fingerbones running a little faster. She was afraid to raise her eyes to his because she was afraid of what she was thinking of saying. She was afraid he’d laugh, or be angry, or worse, be hurt.
‘Why?’ he said at last, and through the tip of her finger she felt him swallow.
‘There’s another Veil,’ said Finn.
Seth went absolutely still for a long time. ‘There’s another Veil,’ he repeated at last.
‘Yes. I know you won’t believe me, but I saw through it, while I was dying. You’ll tell me I was hallucinating, but I swear, Seth, it’s another Veil, another Sgath, and I saw right through it. I saw him.’ She gulped. ‘He was mad at me. Because I wasn’t trying hard enough not to leave you. So he made me. He made me try.’
And Tell him not to be so scared, Conal had said. Conal, what did you mean? Seth had had a right to be scared, and he’d beaten it anyway, and Finn wasn’t about to give him a postmortem scolding from the brother who’d overshadowed his entire life. No, Conal, she thought. No. And the words stayed unspoken in her throat.
Seth was far from her mind at that moment, thank God. He only rested his head against hers, silent for an age. ‘Eili smiled,’ he said eventually. ‘Just as she died. I thought she was smiling at Sionnach.’
Finn moved her fingers into his hair, her thumbs resting on his cheekbones. ‘Seth? I…’
‘Here they are.’ Rory was beside them, Hannah’s hand in his. ‘Alone and Palely Loitering.’ He grinned.
‘Palely Loitering with Intent, if you ask me,’ said Hannah with a suggestive wink.
‘Hey Dad, cheer up. Think about Kate’s face when she broke into an empty dun.’
‘Yep,’ said Hannah. ‘And did you hear her scream when Rory sealed the Veil? Like a cat with a firework up its–’
‘Whoa! Right.’ Seth went up to the bow as Jed brought the launch inexpertly round, and jumped out to tie up the rope to its bollard as the gunwale of the boat banged and shuddered against the old tyres strung along the jetty.
‘Summer’s over,’ Hannah said in disbelief as she looked up at the morning.
It was true. The season had turned as if by a snap of celestial fingers. The intense magical light of the previous night was gone from the hills, and now that dawn had come the landscape was flat and dun under a leaden sky.
‘Oh, no,’ groaned Rory. ‘The time’s slipped again.’
‘Autumn. School. I’m going to have to go back to Sheena and Marty,’ said Hannah miserably. That was the part that seemed like a parallel world.
‘You’re not going back,’ said Rory. ‘I’m keeping you.’
‘Not without supervision, you’re not,’ muttered Jed as he wiped Iolaire’s blood-blinded eyes.
‘Jaysus. First I was your Xbox; now I’m your hamster.’ She gave him a very showy, lengthy smooch.
The clann were dispersing, making their way in pairs and small groups down the
single-track road, exchanging fierce farewell hugs. Where the jetty met the road, two huge dark shapes waited, pawing the tarmac and snorting. Seth extracted himself from Braon’s snuggling embrace and made his way through the thinning crowd to the paler horse. He put his arms round its neck and pressed his face to its gilled cheek.
‘Did you come to say goodbye, my love?’ He closed his eyes. ‘I won’t be seeing you for a long time. Try to be good. Don’t eat anyone.’
The horse blew affectionately, then caught sight of Hannah over his shoulder. Flattening its ears, it snaked its head towards her and snapped its teeth.
Slapping aside its jaws, she grabbed the startled kelpie’s muzzle.
‘You ugly fleabag. How would you like it yourself ?’ She bared her own teeth, and bit its nose hard.
Not a breath could be heard, but the roan did not seem inclined to savage her to death. It tilted its head, then snorted hesitantly against her mouth.
Hannah hung an arm casually over its neck and scratched between its ears. ‘Well, it asked for that.’
Seth said: ‘Well I’ll be f–’
‘Ah-ah-ah,’ interrupted Hannah sweetly. ‘Language.’
Seth winked at Finn. ‘Hannah,’ he said, ‘You’re coming with us if I have to adopt you, gods help me.’ He furrowed his brow curiously. ‘Currac-sagairt.’
‘Curracwhat?’ Hannah stared at him open-mouthed.
‘Currac-sagairt,’ snorted Finn. ‘You’d better practise.’
‘Is that my name?’
‘Jaysus. That was quick,’ said Rory. ‘What a mouthful. What’s it mean?’
‘It’s a kind of flower,’ taunted Seth.
‘That’s, uh... nice and uh... female,’ said Rory.
‘A pretty yellow flower.’ Seth batted his lashes at Hannah.
She glared at him. ‘You’re making this up.’
‘And it’s poisonous!’
‘Murlainn, shut up.’ Finn glowered at Seth. ‘It’s aconite, Hannah. You know, monkshood.’ Her face split in a smile of realisation. ‘Oh. Wolfsbane!’
Hannah flushed, and grinned.
Behind them lights began to glow in the cottages that lined the strip of road, and more of the clann slipped silently away from the jetty. Only Sionnach stood aside, alone, perfectly still. One of the passing Sithe put a donkey jacket round his shoulders, and a peaked cap on his wounded scalp, then hugged him, but he didn’t react, did not even seem to notice. He didn’t look indecisive, just motionless, as if he couldn’t see the point of going anywhere. He looked as if he might stand there, staring dully at the sea, till the end of time.
Hannah clasped his hand firmly and dragged him over to their small group. ‘Sionnach’s coming with us,’ she said.
‘But of course he is,’ said Finn.
Seth took one look back across the paling sea loch towards the headland that was clearing in a colourless dawn. The remains of the dun were invisible, too far along the coast to be seen, but he didn’t much want to see that tumble of rocks anyway.
Putting an arm round Rory he turned away from the sea, slinging his pack across one shoulder.
‘All right,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Let’s go and find somewhere to live.’
EPILOGUE: SETH
‘We can’t go back to Tornashee,’ I murmured.
He didn’t reply. He never did, and that was what I liked about him. It was an argument I was still to face with Finn, but I knew Tornashee would not be safe any more: maybe not ever. Branndair was more likely to understand, and besides, I had to practise on him, to keep my voice and my resolve steady for my lover.
I rolled onto my side and scratched the wolf’s neck fur; he licked my face. The carpet was comfortable enough and the window went all the way to the floor, so we could both gaze out at the blackness beyond while Finn slept through the small hours. I wasn’t accustomed to sleeping through the night; maybe it would take me a while.
The gods knew what this tartaned-up country hotel had cost my lover’s credit card: it was nearly deserted, starting to wind down for the winter, and not looking for last-minute guests, especially not the kind who looked the way we did. The receptionist might have kicked up more of a fuss, but she had quailed before Finn’s scary face. I grinned at the memory, then sighed and listened to a moth beat against the window. Branndair pricked an ear and whined sleepily.
‘It bleeds, Branndair.’
He wriggled up and gazed at me, his yellow eyes mournful. He still missed Liath. Gods knew, we all did, and Jed more than anyone. But who was left to rage against? Dead, they were all dead.
I curled up and put an arm round the wolf’s neck. The tail lights of a plane blinked high across the clouds, and I thought of cities, and civilisation, and exile. Branndair must have thought of it too, and known that he’d have to leave me. And Branndair knew how, now of all times, I needed him not to.
‘The unsealable wound,’ I said into his neck fur. ‘It bleeds. You know it.’
He licked my ear, then pressed his head against mine. I felt the life pulsing beneath his warm skin. I touched my mind lightly to his, for the warmth and for the comfort. Finn had warned me, but I couldn’t be without him, not tonight. I’d brought him in silently through the basement fire escape, smuggled him up the back stairs. I needed him with me, and alarms were nothing, not when my brother and I had disabled so many and slipped through unseen. But that was in our past lives, our long-ago lives when Conal still lived, and we searched for a Bloodstone that was not a human boy.
A human boy. ‘You feel it, Branndair. It’s bleeding my soul.’
He whined softly.
Oh yes, the wolf would have to leave me. I knew this world of old.
‘I’ll stay with you,’ I whispered. ‘Sometimes. When you’re running in the night. Will you let me in?’
He growled softly and nuzzled my hair.
‘How long does a man last while his soul drains away?’ I asked him. ‘How long does a boy?’
~ Till a man gives in.
I grunted a laugh into his fur. It was my own mind talking to me. Or more than likely it was.
I lay back on the carpet and the wolf stretched and lay down beside me, warm heart beating through his black fur.
~ Branndair. I can never go back.
~ Then go with me.
I tipped my head back and watched Finn, stirring in her sleep, one hand reaching drowsily for me.
I had my life with her, I thought; an hour, perhaps, with him.
I took Branndair’s head between my hands and let myself sink in his mind. I closed my eyes, and felt wildness and hunger and grief for a lost white wolf; and then, for what might have been an hour, there was nothing conscious. There was only a strong heart, and a powerful body, and dreams of prey; and the painful, mortal comfort of an intact soul.
THE END
Table of Contents
Title page
Copyright page
Dedication page
Acknowledgements
Author biography
Epigraph page
Contents
RORY
KATE
HANNAH
RORY
SETH
JED
HANNAH
FINN
SETH
JED
FINN
HANNAH
FINN
HANNAH
FINN
HANNAH
FINN
RORY
FINN
KATE
HANNAH
FINN
SETH
FINN
SETH
JED
RORY
FINN
HANNAH
SETH
ALASDAIR KILREVIN
HANNAH
ALASDAIR KILREVIN
HANNAH
ALASDAIR KILREVIN
RORY
SETH
HANNAH
SETH
RORY
SETH
/>
HANNAH
SETH
HANNAH
THE CLIFF
HANNAH
RORY
HANNAH
THE DUN
SETH
RORY
EXILE
EPILOGUE: SETH
Wolfsbane: 3 (Rebel Angels) Page 37