by Helen Harper
I glared at them. ‘So you’ve been discussing this while I was away? Behind my back?’
‘Stop being so testy. It’s a reasonable conversation to have. You wouldn’t have to have anything to do with it. One of us could manage it for you.’ Taylor finally looked at me directly. ‘We need to keep you safe, Tegs. Having this temporary reprieve has made us all realise just how good life could be here when we don’t have to keep looking over our shoulders.’
‘No. And if any of you try anything like that, we’re done. I don’t care how good your intentions are, I won’t have it. We are better than that.’ I paused. ‘Is that clear?’ Everyone nodded. I tried again. ‘I said, is that clear?’
This time I received a chorus of replies. ‘Yes, Tegs.’
‘You do still have one wish left,’ Bob began.
I pointed at him. ‘Zip it.’
Lexie raised her hand tentatively. ‘Are you angry now?’
I exhaled. ‘No. I understand where you’re coming from. And you don’t have to put up your hand to speak, Lex.’
‘Are you sure you’re not angry?’
I narrowed my eyes. ‘If you want I’ll tell you all a joke to prove just how un-angry I am.’
Taylor stood up and backed away. ‘There’s no need for that.’
Sorley, who’d been sitting silently in the corner and gnawing impressively on a yellowing toenail, glanced up. ‘I’d like a joke.’ Everyone groaned loudly and hushed him. He shrugged his wide shoulders then he seemed to squeak.
Lexie tilted her head, confused. ‘Did your bones just cheep?’
His eyebrows snapped together. ‘I’m not cheap! I swore fealty. I don’t require financial remuneration because my kind is too honourable to stoop to mere monetary rewards.’
‘No, I meant cheep. Like a bird.’
‘No, you blasted pixie! I’m a damned troll.’ There was a momentary pause before there was another squeak.
Lexie stared round at us all. ‘I’m not the only one who heard that, right?’
‘Sorley,’ I asked, ‘are you carrying around a haggis?’
‘What?’ He got to his feet, his face the picture of outrage. ‘Why would I carry one of those vermin around with me? It’s bad enough that they get into everything and chomp on all my equipment. I wouldn’t want to touch one.’ His loose-fitting shirt bulged; poking its way up from the collar was the tiny questing nose of a haggis. Sorley whipped round and fumbled with his shirt.
‘If you want the trolls to sort out this mess then we can,’ he bellowed, trying to disguise what was now a series of high-pitched haggis complaints. ‘We can muster within the hour and march on the Cruaich.’
‘This isn’t your fight.’
He turned round, the haggis no longer in sight. ‘It’s Clan Adair’s fight and we are Clan Adair,’ he said stiffly.
I shook my head and smiled. ‘We’re not fighting. We’re too smart for that.’
The Foinse spun down from a nearby window, nuzzling into Sorley’s belly. There was another, much happier, squeak.
Brochan raised his eyebrows. ‘I wouldn’t count on that.’
***
Taylor and I set off at first light, heading north again, although this time we were heading for the small MacQuarrie Clan Lands near the east coast. This wasn’t going to be a particularly dangerous venture and my old mentor’s presence effectively killed two birds with one stone. Because of Taylor’s age or gender, Tipsania was more likely to listen to him than she was to me ‒ and she’d probably require some persuading to go along with Byron’s fake wedding plans. Plus, Taylor’s presence appeased the others. Speck, in particular, seemed to think that as soon as I was let loose in the wild blue yonder I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from running full pelt back to Byron and conceding my wits, personality and independence to him with one simple kiss. Given his relationship with Lexie, he ought to have known better.
I’d made a half-hearted attempt to get Bob to come along with us but he’d huffed so much about being dragged away from his latest boxset, not to mention about being left to wait around in the dark while I had ‘thrilling, dangerous sex’ – his words, not mine – that in the end I left him behind. I wasn’t going to be gone long and I certainly had no intention of using up that last wish, no matter how often he dropped it into the conversation. It was rather nice to get some time alone with Taylor. I’d missed our chats. All in all, things seemed to be looking up.
Not long after we hit the main road, when I finally managed to get a signal on my phone, I rang Morna. ‘How’s it going?’
‘Well, dear,’ she answered, slightly caustic, ‘you spend time alone in close proximity with Tipsania Scrymgeour and you tell me how you think it’s going. I swear the MacQuarrie Chieftain almost took his father’s sword and lopped off her head the other night.’
I winced. ‘Is she being difficult?’
‘That girl won’t give me a moment’s peace. And every time I suggest to her that good manners are a boon, she spits fire.’
‘Uh…’
‘Things are fine. We’ve relocated away from the main castle and we’re in a cottage near the border. I’m working on placating the MacQuarries, too.’
I took a deep breath. ‘That’s good of you but you don’t have to worry about it now. I’m on my way up. It’s kind of complicated but I’m going to take Tipsania back to her father. You won’t have to worry about her for more than another hour or two.’
There was a pause. ‘Could you perhaps make it three or four hours? She’s cleaning the cottage and I’d hate to pull her away from that. If she keeps it up then at least the MacQuarries will get something out of all this besides my flowers.’
I laughed. We all enjoyed the fact that Tipsania was a bit of a neat freak. ‘Sorry.’
‘Are you quite sure about this, dear? Returning her to the Bull will undo all the progress she’s made. The man is a buffoon. He’s bound to rub off on her again.’
I grimaced. ‘He certainly is a buffoon but it won’t be for long. I’ll explain what’s going on when I get there. It’s probably best if you don’t mention anything to her in the meantime.’
‘Anything for a quiet life,’ Morna replied cheerfully. ‘Is this going to save Scotland?’
I considered her question. If everything went to plan, it just might. ‘Who knows? I still don’t think we should put too much credence in the prophecy. No one else does.’
Morna snorted. ‘That’s because they’re too afraid.’
I didn’t have anything to say to that. Hanging up, I settled down while Taylor threw me an arch glance and sped up to overtake a trundling tractor that seemed to be dropping more hay than it was actually carrying. ‘Is she still harping on about the prophecy?’ he asked.
‘Yeah.’ I nibbled my bottom lip. ‘Maybe this plan of Byron’s will mean that we stop Aifric and get him locked up. Then Scotland will be saved.’
‘Then why isn’t Golden Boy named as the one?’
I thought about it. ‘Because he’d never have believed the truth about his father if it weren’t for me,’ I said eventually.
‘Right,’ Taylor drawled.
‘It might not even be me. It says the one Adair will save Alba. That could be my child. Or my grandchild. Or any number of descendants.’
‘Do you really want that burden to be on someone else?’
I sighed. ‘No.’
‘And since when were you planning on children?’ His shoulders shot up as a thought struck him. ‘You’re not pregnant, are you?’
I smirked. I could have a little fun with this. ‘We never did have that conversation about the birds and the bees, you know. I’m not sure I know how it all works.’
Taylor’s cheeks reddened. ‘I asked Bella to talk to you.’
I nodded. ‘She did. She told me never to charge less than fifty and to make sure they paid up front.’
He seemed to go even redder. ‘She said what?’
‘Byron did mention something about…�
� I wrinkled my nose as if trying to remember. ‘Con … dom? I told him I was good enough at conning for the both of us and that I didn’t need Dom to help me.’
‘Tegs?’
‘Mm?’
‘You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?’
I grinned. ‘Yep.’
‘That boy doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into,’ he muttered.
‘He’s one of the good guys, Taylor. No matter what happens, remember that.’
Taylor was silent for a long while. ‘How often do the good guys win?’
‘Sometimes it might take them a while but they always win in the end.’
‘How do you know?’
‘George Lucas.’ Taylor hissed through his teeth. I shrugged. ‘What’s the bet that the prophecy is actually about rescuing a haggis called Scotland from the clutches of a grumpy troll called Sorley?’ Taylor opened his mouth to answer and I realised what I’d said. ‘Whoa ‒ no actual bet. It was a figure of speech.’
It was his turn to grin. ‘Yeah. You’re backtracking because you know the good guys win in the end.’
I laughed again and reached over to give him a quick hug. ‘Amen to that.’
***
It was still fairly early when we reached the MacQuarrie border. Taylor parked carefully and we both got out and walked up on foot. ‘If you didn’t know that Morna was visiting these Lands,’ I said wonderingly, ‘you could certainly work it out.’
Taylor put an arm round my shoulders and drew me close as we gazed in front of us. ‘She’s definitely something,’ he agreed.
Swathes of multi-coloured heather covered a hilly bank, reaching all the way around it. There wasn’t a pattern as such, and the flowers didn’t spell out ‘MacQuarrie’ or anything as twee as that, but the different hues somehow fit – deep reds blending into seductive purples, followed by musky blues then brilliant greens. It was a damned shame Morna hadn’t worked out how to make hot-pink heather. All the same, my gratitude to her was immeasurable. She kept going above and beyond our growing friendship. It wasn’t just because of the prophecy; she believed in us. All of us. Either that or Tipsania had said some truly heinous things to the MacQuarries that Morna was trying to atone for.
Alongside the flowers there was a winding road leading up, no doubt, to the main MacQuarrie buildings which were currently invisible to the eye. On the other side was a forest. It was an even more stunning copse than the Cruaich grove. Trees of all shapes and sizes grew there, each one perfectly placed to receive the optimum amount of sunlight or shade, depending on the species. Was this a result of nature or of magic? It occurred to me that I could beg, borrow or steal as much of Morna’s Gift as I wanted but I’d never have the knowledge to support it so I could achieve something on this scale. The Bull’s Gift was the same. I’d stolen Aura Reading from him without realising it but it hadn’t done me the slightest good without a key to understand the auras. Admittedly, I wasn’t convinced that the Bull had a key either. He’d been convinced that my aura – identical to my father’s – meant that I was evil. Slightly wicked, perhaps. Definitely not evil.
‘Maybe,’ I mused, ‘Sidhe are only given one or two Gifts because that’s all they can handle. Having a lot doesn’t work. You become a jack of all trades instead of a master of one.’
‘Tegs,’ Taylor said, his voice taut with tension. ‘What’s that?’
I turned my head, my veins turning ice cold as I saw a plume of dark smoke snaking its way upwards to the clear, blue sky. The MacQuarries wouldn’t bother with a bonfire; with Morna visiting, the Gifts they had at their disposal negated the need to burn old crops or garden waste. And it was hardly the weather for an open hearth. Of course, one of the MacQuarries could simply be playing around with their magic. Or it could be something far, far worse.
‘Where’s the MacQuarrie flagpole?’ I asked, whipping my head around.
‘I don’t see it,’ Taylor muttered. ‘But it might be round that hill or near another section of the border.’
I ran ahead, feeling the brush of faint magic across my skin. ‘There’s virtually no border,’ I spat. A scream rent the air. That was when I began to sprint.
I paid no more attention to the beautiful field of heather. Instead, heart pounding, I ran as fast as I could. When I reached the top of the hill, I saw what was wrong. On the other side, less than a hundred feet away, there was a quaint little thatched cottage. Its roof was burning and billowing smoke was pouring from its open door. That was the good news. Outside were two Fomori demons. There was a gap between them but they looked as if they were struggling to hold onto something. Or someone with the Gift of Invisibility.
‘Tipsania!’ I yelled and ran towards them.
Both demons’ heads jerked up and I heard their snarls. One of them fell back and yelped in pain. I smiled grimly to myself; I knew from experience just how sharp Tipsania’s kicks could be. Then I caught a glint of sunlight from a long, lethal blade that he was holding and my smile vanished.
I searched deep inside myself, scanning through the different trickles of magic which I’d stolen from the various Sidhe at the Cruaich. I had to have something which would work. Dowsing was useless, as was Animal Summoning. Getting a creature here would take far too long. Apportation, however…
I focused in on the long knife and concentrated. It shimmered for a few seconds before zapping away to drop into the old well back at the Adair Lands. The demon gaped down at his suddenly empty hands, baffled by what had happened. ‘You bitch!’ he screamed. He charged right for me.
There was a strange cracking sound and the ground beneath our feet trembled. A moment later the demon was sprawled face first, his ankle caught on a root which had appeared from nowhere. Morna. I looked around but I couldn’t see her and there wasn’t time to seek out her position. There was still another demon to deal with. From the way his arm was being wrenched from one side to another, he still seemed to be wrestling with Tipsania. I was almost out of options.
I drew out the very last of the Illusion magic, using it to make my hands light up as if on fire. ‘Release her or I will barbecue you!’ I shouted.
The demon turned to me. His expression was an ugly snarl but the distraction was enough. He was yanked to the side and let out a frustrated screech.
‘I’m free!’ Tipsania’s voice screamed. ‘End him!’
I swallowed hard and raised my hands. The demon cowered, holding his hands over his head. Then Taylor was by my side, handing me a loop of rope. ‘It was in the boot of the car,’ he explained. ‘It seemed like the sort of thing you might need.’
I nodded gratefully, darted over to the creature before he could change his mind about surrendering and tied his hands and feet together. He lay curled foetal-like in the long grass while I surveyed the damage. ‘Where’s Morna?’ I scanned around. ‘Morna!’ I called. ‘You can come out now. It’s safe!’
‘How the hell did Fomori demons get the border down and get through here?’ Taylor asked.
‘They’re not demons,’ I said tersely. ‘Morna!’
‘Eh?’
‘That one who tripped and knocked himself unconscious called me a bitch.’ Where the hell was Morna?
‘Some of them must speak English though?’
‘Not with Aberdonian accents, they don’t.’
Taylor grabbed my arm. ‘There.’
I looked at where he was pointing and saw Tipsania materialise. She let out a cry and fell to her knees. Something flickered in my peripheral vision; the main castle inhabitants had apparently realised something was wrong. I dimly registered Angus leading the charge towards us. The MacQuarries weren’t my focus though; it was the crumpled figure at Tipsania’s feet, almost completely camouflaged by the long grass, which made me forget to breathe.
Time seemed to slow down. It was probably only seconds before I reached Tipsania and collapsed beside her but it felt much longer. When I saw what state Morna was in, things got even worse. She was on her back, her wh
ite hands clutching at the hilt of the knife that protruded from her belly. Blood bubbled up from her lips as she tried to breathe. Oh God, oh God, oh God.
‘I don’t know what to do,’ Tipsania yelled, grabbing my sleeve. ‘What do we do?’
My jaw worked as I tried to speak. Morna’s eyelashes fluttered as she turned her face to me. She opened her mouth to say something but no words came out.
‘Integrity!’ Tipsania screamed. ‘What the fuck do we do?’
I didn’t know. I reached down for the knife. Maybe I should pull it out or do something to stem the blood that was seeping out from the edges of the ragged wound. My heart thumped against my ribcage with fear. None of the Gifts I had would work, not a single one. Think, Integrity. Bloody think.
Taylor joined us, taking in the situation in one glance. Deftly he examined the wound. I didn’t need to read his expression to know how grave the situation was. I grabbed hold of Morna’s hands. ‘Let go,’ I told her, hoping my voice didn’t betray my panic. ‘I need you to let go.’
For a moment I wasn’t sure she’d heard me then one hand moved away from the lethal blade and flailed upwards. ‘Integrity,’ Morna whispered.
‘Don’t talk,’ I said. ‘Conserve your strength.’
‘Integrity,’ Taylor said, his voice strained. ‘The blade is too deep. There’s nothing you can do.’
I paid him no attention. His skills lay in first aid, not mortal wounds; he didn’t know everything. I yanked off my jacket then pulled my T-shirt over my head, before bending over to dab at the wound and clear some of the blood so I could get a better look. Maybe the blade wasn’t that long. It was possible that none of Morna’s vital organs had been hit.
She moaned in response. ‘Stop,’ she gasped.
I ignored her. ‘Blood loss,’ I muttered. ‘We need to stop her from losing more blood.’
Taylor tried again. ‘Integrity…’
I growled at him and pressed down, trying to staunch the flow. Tipsania reached round me to help. A heartbeat later Angus was with us. ‘What the hell happened?’
‘We need to get her to a hospital.’