by Helen Harper
‘Steward!’ the MacQuarrie Chieftain bellowed. ‘This is outrageous! You cannot come here and do this. You will answer for your crimes!’
The three gun-toting goons raised their weapons once more. With my heart in my mouth, I yelled, ‘No!’
Aifric was amused. ‘There’s no denying that you have some moves, Chieftain, but I don’t think you can dodge bullets. What’s to stop me from killing everyone right here, right now?’
Morals? Decency? A shred of empathy? None of those was worth mentioning to him. However, the fact that we were still talking and not yet bleeding suggested that Aifric did indeed have something else up his rotten sleeves.
I regarded him calmly. ‘What is it that you want?’
His smile grew. ‘Oh, there are so many things that I want.’ He was determined to eke out this moment.
The bastard was enjoying every minute of this. Well, I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of looking frightened. I pasted on a bored expression and examined my fingernails. ‘Try me,’ I drawled.
His mouth twitched and I realised that my nonchalance was irritating him. Good. ‘You come with me. You will answer for your crimes.’
‘My crimes?’ Was he for real?
‘You have been a naughty, naughty girl.’ His nostrils flared. ‘I have a little gathering planned. My son and heir is getting married on the Isle of Muck in a matter of days.’ He looked at Tipsania coyly and she all but snarled in response. ‘Everyone who’s anyone will be there. And not just Sidhe.’ Aifric licked his lips. ‘I’ve made sure of that.’ He cracked his fingers. ‘You see, you were becoming a folk hero. The young orphan who battled against the evil Sidhe empire and who tragically lost her life in the process. People are talking about you on the streets. There are gatherings using your name to galvanise the sheep into action against us. I can’t have that.’ He made a moue of disgust.
‘You can’t control everyone,’ I told him flatly. ‘You’re not the respected leader you think you are.’
Aifric laughed. ‘Do you think I care about respect? I’m not a school teacher. I’m delivering this country from evil. I’m Scotland’s saviour.’
I stared at him. He was telling the truth; he really believed that about himself. Maybe he wasn’t just psychotic, maybe he was plain insane.
Aifric stepped towards me. ‘Right now you’re a martyr. The world will think differently – the Highlands will know differently – after I tell them the truth. Instead of being the figurehead that encouraged a bloody coup, you’ll be the most reviled name in history. I’ll make sure of it. People will soon know who the true hero is.’
‘You?’ I scoffed.
Aifric didn’t even blink. ‘Me.’ He inhaled deeply and looked around. ‘Everyone knows that Clan MacQuarrie has more than a touch of the moon about it. You will all remain here behind your pointless borders. You will not communicate with anyone. You will not come to the wedding and you will not get in my way.’
‘And why the hell should we do that?’ Chieftain MacQuarrie growled.
Aifric beamed, as if he were delivering wonderful news. ‘If you don’t, I will raze your Clan to the ground. Do this, keep quiet and you might live to see next year.’
‘We’ll do no such thing! We could never trust you anyway.’
I turned round and met his eyes. The MacQuarrie Clan had sworn fealty to me and they would do what I asked. Yes, Aifric was lying; he’d find a way to destroy this Clan one way or another, no matter what we decided today. But if they didn’t give him at least the illusion of passive agreement, he would destroy them right now. There was no choice to make. ‘Agreed,’ I said quietly.
Chieftain MacQuarrie opened his mouth. He would have disagreed but something in my expression gave him pause. ‘I’ve got this,’ I told him. I looked at Angus. He looked almost as sick as I felt. ‘Bob,’ I mouthed silently.
Angus swallowed and nodded slightly to show he understood and I relaxed slightly. I knew Angus: there was no way he’d permit Bob or the others to mount a kind of rescue without him. Even if Aifric killed me right now, Angus would make sure that Bob’s indenture, such as it was, passed to him or someone on our team. If I didn’t live to fight another day, they would.
‘There,’ I said to Aifric, ‘you’ve got what you wanted after all.’
His lip curled. ‘Somehow I don’t feel I can trust you.’ He pointed at Tipsania. ‘I want her too.’
Tipsania was an independent being and I couldn’t tell her what to do, I could only hope that she understood there were other factors in play. We weren’t giving up entirely, not yet. I swallowed and looked at her, expecting her to flatly refuse. Her eyes drifted from Morna’s body to me and then back to Aifric. She tossed her head. ‘It would be my pleasure,’ she said loudly.
I sensed Taylor stiffen. Hell, even I was taken aback and I knew she was lying.
‘I never wanted to be with these dirty outcasts,’ she continued. ‘I want to be the wife of the next Steward. It’s what my father wanted for me.’
Considering her father was lying dead in front of her, she did a damned good job of dissembling. From the expression on Aifric’s face, he wasn’t buying her act, regardless of how believable she appeared. All the same, I inwardly applauded her for trying. Tipsania understood the machinations required to get what she wanted – she’d had all her life to perfect that attitude. No doubt if all this ended as Aifric wanted it to, she’d find a way to worm herself back into his good books, not because she was a bad person but because she understood what survival took. That thought scratched at me.
She marched ahead, her spine ramrod straight. She didn’t glance at me as she passed. When she reached Aifric and his goons, he patted her hand. ‘My condolences on the passing of your father.’
For the briefest moment, her eyes widened. Realising that she was on the verge of smacking the Steward in the face, I intervened. ‘You’ve got Tipsy for your son. The MacQuarries will stay here and stay quiet. I will come with you and participate in whatever bullshit farce you’ve got planned.’ My mouth flattened. ‘You win.’
Aifric examined me like I was a bug under a microscope. There was an odd light behind his eyes. ‘Not quite,’ he said eventually. ‘I’m still not convinced I know everything that you’re capable of and I want to make sure you’re not going to stray from my plan.’
‘You’ve got what you came for.’ I stepped forward, holding my hands in front of me. ‘Go ahead. Tie me up. I’ll be good, I promise.’
Aifric held up a finger. ‘I’m not sure you will be.’ He beckoned and the nearest machine-gun toting goon peeled off, striding over to stand next to me.
‘What do you call a man holding a machine gun?’ I asked. He gazed back at me impassively. ‘Sir.’ I managed a smile. ‘See? I’m not going to do anything stupid.’ I glanced at Aifric.
He smirked. ‘I know.’ He raised a second finger. This time it wasn’t pointing at me, it was pointing at Taylor.
Panic overtook me. ‘No, wait!’ I dug down into myself, drawing on all the available magic I had left preparing to use it in one go, even if I didn’t know how it would work. It was too late. The goon next to me raised his gun and brought it down on my skull just as there was a short burst of gunfire. I heard Taylor scream in agony and the world slid to black.
Chapter Thirteen
My mouth felt like sawdust. Every bone, muscle and sinew in my body was screaming out in agony and it felt like there was a duck-egg sized lump on the back of my head. I moaned and opened my eyes. Even though the light here was dim, it was still painful.
‘You’re okay,’ rumbled a gruff voice.
I winced and slowly turned round. Candy. ‘Are we at the Cru…’ realising that once I’d begun, I could barely speak.
‘No, we’re being moved somewhere.’
I sat up and everything swam until I felt like I was on the verge of passing out again. I lay down again hastily, pressing my palms against the large metal bars underneath me for balance. The ro
om continued to sway.
‘Boat,’ I whispered. Candy grunted in affirmation. We had to be on our way to the Isle of Muck. Everything came flooding back to me in a rush of images. Taylor’s scream reverberated round my head. No. Just … no.
‘I’ve been told to tell you,’ Candy said, ‘that the old man is alive.’ His voice was flat; he was apparently repeating the words verbatim. ‘But he is wounded and requires medical attention. In order to ensure that you do as you are told, he will remain in that condition until after that wedding.’
I heaved in a breath, my fingernails curling into my hands and digging painfully into my flesh. He wasn’t dead. Taylor wasn’t dead.
Another lighter voice spoke up. ‘And if there’s even the faintest hint of a genie showing up, he will suffer more than you could ever imagine.’
I pushed myself up onto my elbows. A woman was watching me from behind another set of bars. I recognised her instantly: she was the guard I’d fooled with my Aifric Illusion. I guessed she was here to get payback. She smiled at me nastily. ‘We’re watching you twenty-four seven,’ she said. ‘Just to make sure you don’t try anything.’ She eyed me predatorily. ‘Personally, I’m hoping you do. I could do with a little fun.’ She cracked her knuckles. ‘You should be glad you’re in that cage.’
Candy scowled at her. ‘Here,’ he said, thrusting something under my chin. ‘Drink.’
Grateful for the distraction, not to mention the liquid, I gulped at the water. It was brackish and foul-tasting but it was wet. The thought that it might be poisoned crossed my mind but Aifric could have already injected me with anything he wanted. Not only was I as weak as a kitten but there was no telling how long I’d been out for. I swung my head back to Candy, a question in my eyes.
‘Two days,’ he said. ‘They gave you something to keep you under.’
I grimaced, drained the cup and forced myself up to a sitting position again. The world still wobbled around me but it was becoming more manageable.
‘Has anyone else been down here?’ I kept my eyes averted from the guard. She snorted as if amused but at least stayed quiet.
‘They swap the guards every four hours,’ Candy answered. He pursed his lips and shook his head to indicate that no one else had been to see us. Candy wasn’t stupid; he’d know I was referring to Byron.
I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or dismayed that Byron probably didn’t know what was going on. Somehow I doubted his Plan B had included this little scenario. I calculated: if I’d been comatose for two days, there was still plenty of time to find a way out. The wedding wasn’t scheduled for another week at least. There was a whole lot I could do with seven days.
‘The ceremony’s been moved forward,’ the guard said cheerfully, as if she could read my mind. I narrowed my eyes, wondering whether mind-reading was a Gift, then I relaxed. If she possessed that kind of magic, she’d have known instantly that I wasn’t Aifric when I spoke to her at the Cruaich dungeons. She was just bloody canny.
‘Tomorrow morning,’ Candy answered, before I could ask. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. This was as much of a disaster for him as it was for me. He had obviously worked out that everything was going tits up.
I grimaced. Well, shite. I wondered whether Aifric would create a sham trial first or simply dunk me in a well to check whether I floated. He had to know that I’d spill the beans if he gave me chance to speak. I tried to work through the possibilities but my mind felt too sluggish and slow.
Candy sighed loudly and lay down, putting his hands behind his head and gazing at the ceiling. The Sidhe guard continued to stare at me. It was so discomforting that in the end I did the same as Candy, lying back and looking up and wondering desperately if there was any chance I could find my way out of all this.
In the far corner of the room, barely visible through the shadows, a spider lurked. It was larger than your usual Scottish beastie and seemed to be having difficulty spinning its web. Silk spun out behind it, missing its invisible target. While I watched, the spider paused for one long moment as if it were giving up. Then it abruptly scuttled down the wall, travelling at what had to be an immense speed for its size. Maybe it had gone to get its buddies to help.
I closed my eyes, focusing on the throbbing pain in my skull and trying to will it away. When that didn’t work, I searched within myself to see what magic I still had that I could make use of. There was definitely still a trickle of Apportation. Unhelpful. I could transport objects away from me but I couldn’t transport anything to me. And I couldn’t do anything with that eagle-eyed guard staring at me.
I could still call animals towards me. I pushed out, sensing some nearby rats. Ignoring the shudder that ran down my spine, I considered bringing them over. Maybe I’d get lucky and the guard would have a phobia. She’d run away screaming and I’d … what? Shamble slowly out of this cage and swim for it?
My big toe itched and I shook it absently. It didn’t help. Muttering a curse, I glanced down. It was the damn spider, sitting right next to my big toe and staring at me with all of its glittering black eyes. Eurgh. I lifted my foot and shook it harder, sending the spider flying away from me. I supposed I should be grateful it wasn’t like Debbie, the giant arachnid who’d been used in the Games last year. I paused. This cage we were in did look remarkably familiar. I supposed that until the wedding was official and Aifric could claim the Scrymgeour wealth for his own purposes, he had to make savings where he could.
Candy shifted restlessly next to me, muttering something unintelligible under his breath. He should have escaped when he had the chance, I thought sourly. All of us should have. I sighed. Then I felt my damned toe itch again.
The guard laughed. ‘Looks like that creepy-crawly is the only friend you have left, Adair.’ She hawked up a ball of phlegm and spat it noisily onto the floor. ‘I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree after all.’
I glared at her. So we were back to that again, were we? That Gale Adair, my father, was a genocidal maniac? Why couldn’t people see what was right in front of their faces? ‘I’m not quite sure what you mean,’ I said icily. ‘My parents were heroes who died at the hands of your boss.’
‘Ha!’ she scoffed.
‘You are a Moncrieffe, right? Don’t you think it’s strange that the Steward is locking up another Clan Chieftain? What about the police? Since when was Aifric Moncrieffe allowed to act like judge, jury and executioner?’
Rather than think about what I was saying, she looked at me as if I were toe fungus. ‘You give the Sidhe a bad name.’
I laughed coldly. ‘The Sidhe do that perfectly well without my help.’
‘You’ve endangered everyone in the Highlands by your actions with the trolls. This whole country could be attacked by the Fomori demons and we’d all be vulnerable.’
‘But this country has always been vulnerable to that. It’s only the Sidhe who’ve had the liberty of hiding behind their magic borders. What about everyone else?’
Her lip curled. ‘Because of you, Fomori demons attacked the MacQuarries.’
She was as blind as she was annoying. ‘No, they didn’t. It was Illusion magic. It was a Sidhe who was behind that. And Aifric Moncrieffe was pulling their strings as much as he is yours.’
She didn’t seem to hear me. ‘You’re a thief and a murderer.’
‘I’ll allow the thief part but I’ve not hurt anyone.’ I cast around, trying to think of a way to penetrate her thick skull. If I could get this woman to doubt Aifric and come over to my side, perhaps I’d have a sliver of a chance. So would Taylor.
My toe itched again. Irritated, I reached down to brush the bloody spider away once more. It was staring up at me and this time, one of its long – and remarkably hairy – legs was tapping against my skin as if it were impatient.
‘I’m not listening to you,’ the guard declared. ‘The Steward said you’d try and turn me but I’m loyal.’
‘To a fault,’ I muttered in response. I was no longer interested in her
, however.
The spider leapt off me and darted over Candy’s shins back to the corner. My eyes followed it. I lay down to avoid appearing too obvious but made sure I tracked its every move. I really hoped I wasn’t going crazy.
Once again, it tried to spin silk. Fine threads shot out and it leapt from one side of the cage to the other. This wasn’t the perfect web of a normal spider, though; it looked more like a clumpy mess.
‘Do you know the tale of Robert the Bruce?’ I asked Candy.
‘Sidhe bloke round the time of the Fissure, wasn’t he?’
I nodded. ‘Yep. There are quite a few famous stories about him.’
‘Cave,’ Candy grunted.
‘Yeah. He hid out in one after his army was routed by the Fomori. He was convinced that all of Scotland was lost. Then he saw a spider.’
‘If this is your way of telling me that you’re not going to give up, then I got it,’ drawled the guard. ‘But remember that your friend’s life is still hanging in the balance. Not that I suppose someone like you cares. You probably don’t care about anyone.’
Whatever. I let her babble on. ‘The spider,’ I said to Candy, over the top of her voice, ‘was trying to weave a web. The first time it failed. It tried again, and again it failed but it didn’t give up. It kept on going and on the third attempt it finally succeeded. Because of that one little spider, Robert the Bruce decided not to yield. He pulled himself together for one more fight and he succeeded. The Highlands are free in part because of that, not because of magic but because of a spider. He could have had a genie with him but it wouldn’t have made a difference because it was that spider that saved the country.’
As I watched, the spider halted in its attempts to spin its web and did what I could only describe as a flounce. I smiled. ‘I hope Taylor’s alright,’ I half-whispered.
The spider stared at me again then twisted round and scarpered out through the gap in the bars. I tracked its movements until it was completely out of sight. Thanks, Bob, I said silently. It made a big difference knowing he was around. If everything really did fall into total shite, I could fall back on a wish. It was a last resort, and there was a part of me that was curious to see just how Aifric was going to play things tomorrow, but at least I knew I had a Plan B of my own.