by Helen Harper
Bob crossed his arms and huffed. ‘Remind me of that when Fomori demons are chewing on your heart.’
***
We made land shortly before dawn, pulling the small lifeboat onto a chilly, deserted beach before clambering over the dunes and jogging towards the Veil. I wasn’t certain about our location but, when I saw the dark, lightning-filled wall of cloud looming ahead of us, I knew that my calculations had brought us close. From the expressions on my companions’ faces, however, our proximity wasn’t a cause for celebration. Each of them had good reason to be nervous.
‘I never thought I’d say this, Uh Integrity,’ Bob quavered, ‘but I’d quite like a joke right about now.’ He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered. ‘It’s not that I’m scared for me, you understand. It’s you lot who will suffer. You need your minds taken off the horror that’s about to come.’
May might not have understood Bob’s words but she understood his tone of voice. She gave him a huge grin and stuck her thumbs up. He tutted.
‘We should hold hands,’ I said decisively.
Fergus raised his eyebrows. ‘Are you looking to get close to me? Because I think I’m kind of spoken for.’
‘Ha! No, but when I crossed with Angus he almost got lost in the Veil. It’s safer if we hang on to each other.’
Byron’s jaw tightened. ‘I need to know. Are…?’
‘No.’ I touched his shoulder. ‘We’re just friends. I promise.’
He scanned my face then nodded. ‘Okay.’
‘That’s it?’
‘Trust works both ways.’
I patted my bag then Byron took my hand and squeezed. On my other side, I grabbed Fergus’s hand while he took May’s.
Bob squeaked, ‘Byron? Can I hide under your kilt?’
Byron pointed downwards. ‘Sporran.’
The genie’s face was suddenly wreathed in smiles. He darted down towards the traditional leather purse and zoomed inside.
I took a deep breath. ‘Let’s do this. There’s a prophecy that needs fulfilling.’
Byron grimaced. ‘You know this could all be over in a matter of seconds. They’re likely to slaughter you as soon as they catch sight of you.’
‘Not if we play our cards right.’ I had to believe that; there simply wasn’t any other choice. ‘Remember what I told you.’ They all nodded. I licked my lips, wishing they weren’t quite so dry. ‘And on a count of three. One … two … three.’
Linked together, we stepped forward and plunged inside. Bob shrieked from the depths of Byron’s sporran. I’d never had the comfort of so many others around me on previous occasions when I’d crossed over. Perhaps it was that, or perhaps it was the familiarity of the choking clouds and sense of impending doom, but I didn’t feel scared. Adrenaline shot through me but there was also a pervasive feeling of calm, as if everything up until now had been leading to this point.
I held my breath and kept going, yanking on Fergus’s hand when he started to falter. Then, when it seemed as if we could go no further, we were out the other side and breathing in the dark, dank air of the Lowlands. And there was indeed an entire army of Fomori demons facing us.
It was almost comical. As I stared at the long ranks of demons standing to attention, at first they didn’t seem to notice our sudden appearance. Less than twenty feet separated us from the thousands of them. I sensed rather than saw when one pair of demon-slitted eyes landed on me. I turned my head and gazed at him as he gazed back at me, his shock swiftly transforming into abject horror. Good. That was what I’d been counting on. He reached across and hit his companion. One by one, the demons turned to look at us. Hello.
The ranks stretched lengthwise as far as I could see. I couldn’t begin to guess how many of them there were but it was clearly too many for the Highlanders to cope with. If they attacked my homeland, it would be a bloodbath – and the demons would inevitably win. Armies, however, were prepared for armies; they weren’t prepared to deal with a tiny group. A single person could stand against a tank; might and power weren’t always about numbers. As far as the Fomori demons were concerned, I was the bogeyman; I was also the bogeyman who’d returned from the dead.
One of the demons who was made of sterner stuff than the others took a step forward. I calmly released Fergus and Byron’s hands and reached into my bag. We had seconds before the Fomori recovered and charged.
The Foinse hummed as soon as my fingers brushed against it. The sound was reassuring, even though it felt hotter to the touch than normal. With slow, deliberate movements I drew it out and held it aloft, bathing us in its warm, silvered glow.
The nearest demons cowered, including the one who’d moved in our direction. It wasn’t surprising; the Fomori lived in semi-darkness and these guys weren’t swathed in the strange gloop I’d seen some demons wear when they crossed into our part of Scotland. That meant they hadn’t planned any incursions until nightfall because they felt vulnerable to the light.
The Foinse didn’t exude ultra-violet rays but the light which the source of magic cast was strange enough to create more fear and paranoia. Whatever the Draoidheachd looked like, it was either very different to this or it was kept well out of sight from the Lowland’s citizens.
A peculiar rumble filled the air, growing louder and louder. I knew that sound. Next to me, Byron sucked in an alarmed breath. We’d been fortunate not to emerge in front of any of the winged demons but it was only a matter of time until they approached. It was now or never. ‘Come on, baby,’ I whispered. The Foinse hummed louder in response.
‘I should tell you before you do this,’ Byron said, his voice even and controlled. ‘I love you.’
Magic crackled to my right as the Fomori prepared to attack and it prevented me from responding. I gave a tiny smile and then I threw the Foinse, using every ounce of my energy. Whatever sentient energy it possessed meant that it knew what it was doing; it somersaulted and kept low as it hurtled towards the Fomori ranks. They screamed and scattered.
The four of us began to run. Byron, Fergus and May veered to the right and I went left. The gap in the ranks created by the Foinse was greater than I’d hoped. While it danced and spun and held the Fomori at bay, I sprinted for all I was worth.
There was a whoosh of wind and my hair blew around my face. I grimaced. One of the flying demons was gunning for me and it was getting close. I zigzagged, trying to throw it off. The Foinse zipped towards me but I muttered and it curved off, heading away. The demon above me screeched in fury at my audacity in showing up then it flung a bolt of darkness towards me.
I had no way of knowing what sort of Gift this was. I could have paused, turned, and examined the demon but that was hardly likely to happen. Instead, I did what I could to speed away from the encroaching darkness.
My toe hit a rock that was jutting up out of the ground and I stumbled forward, forcing my body into a roll at the last moment. The demon screeched again and this time the call was taken up by the thousands at my back. I leapt to my feet, momentum propelling me forward. I clenched my fists to stop the trembling and glanced to my right. There were a couple of demons on the others’ tails. I swallowed, my mouth dry. Another flying demon swooped down towards them, gaining on them.
‘Adair!’ I yelled, knowing the windless atmosphere would make my voice carry far across the grim moors.
The demon flipped its head and stared in my direction. The delay gave Byron, Fergus and May a chance. Byron lunged upwards, snatched the Foinse out of the air and bundled it inside his jacket. I smiled grimly. Before long, the darkness would swallow them up. Or so I hoped.
I yelled again. The thunder of thousands of feet slamming into the ground behind me would strike fear into anyone’s heart. As long as they focused on me – the Adair – then I was happy. I took a deep breath, calling up my last traces of the Electrosurge Gift. There were raucous shouts behind me and I knew that the Fomori were preparing to throw every last scrap of magic they had at me. The element of surprise was well and
truly over. My skin tingled. Work, I prayed. Please work.
The air ahead of me spat and crackled. Preparing for the pain, I tensed myself. Then I squeezed my eyes shut, drew out the last magic, and felt the power slam through me as if I’d been punched in the head by a giant. So that’s what it feels like to be struck by lightning, I thought, as I spun in slow motion towards the ground. Shocking.
Chapter Seventeen
It was all about the illusion of control. When Aifric had me under lock and key, he’d grown over-confident because he thought he was in charge. This was effectively the same scenario: now the Fomori demons had the terrifying, monstrous Integrity Adair as a prisoner, especially after she’d electrocuted herself, they’d feel empowered. They’d hopefully be curious enough about me to delay their Highland invasion even if only for a day or two. Of course, there was the very real concern that they’d simply cut my throat and be done with me, but I’d removed the threat I presented by knocking myself out. The Fomori were supposed to be evil but how many people would execute an unarmed, unconscious young woman? Especially one they’d want to interrogate first? It had been a gamble but it was a gamble worth taking when you considered the alternatives. Still, when I woke up in even more pain than I had experienced at Aifric’s hands, I was relieved that I’d woken up at all. I hoped that the others had escaped.
I’d wanted to find myself on Arthur’s Seat, the same hill next to the old city of Edinburgh where Byron had been taken. Unfortunately, I wasn’t there – in fact, I couldn’t tell where I was other than that I was inside. Being blindfolded, trussed up and gagged had something to do with that. The Fomori weren’t taking any chances.
I still had two of my five senses left. I couldn’t hear anything but I could smell urine and vomit. Deciding that this situation simply wouldn’t do, I shuffled on my back like an upturned turtle. It took some time but I made my way around the room, estimating it was about the size of a small bathroom. Or a prison cell. There was a metal bucket in one corner, which was where the godawful stench was coming from. I got as close as I could manage, retching once or twice. Given the danger of vomiting when I had a gag in my mouth, I needed to acclimatise pretty quickly.
I assumed that the Fomori demons didn’t have an Ikea they could pop down to when they needed some cheap, disposable hardware. That meant the bucket had either been forged in a blacksmith’s or it harked back to the pre-Fissure era. Either way, I hoped to find a sharp edge on it. Then all I needed was a little bit of friction.
Holding my breath, I figured that sight would help me more than anything else so I flipped onto my stomach and lowered the side of my head towards the bucket’s rim. It took considerable effort – and numerous attempts ‒ but I eventually pushed the blindfold upwards so that I could see. Only one eye was free and I probably looked like a jaunty pirate, but I felt buoyed by my success.
Sitting up, and scooting as far away from the offending bucket as possible, I took in my surroundings. It was indeed a small room but there were no bars so it wasn’t a jail cell. There was a solid-looking oak door with a spyhole in the centre; thankfully, it was closed. No matter how hard I listened, I couldn’t make out anyone on the other side but that didn’t mean there wasn’t someone there.
My head hurt and I felt weak and trembly. There were some grazes on my arms that hadn’t been there before but other than that I seemed to be injury free. That boded very well for the future; as long as the Fomori weren’t in a hurry to maim, torture or kill me, hope remained. I grinned. Hope always remained.
There were a number of ways that I could free myself from the rest of the restraints but the easiest and the quickest would be to use Apportation and simply magic away the ropes and bonds. I could even call any nearby rats and encourage them to gnaw through the bindings. But I wasn’t Cinderella any more than Tipsania was, and I had serious doubts that I could make wild animals do my bidding. Besides, rats? Bleurgh. No, it made sense to conserve what magic I had. Alongside Kirsty Kincaid’s Truth Gift, I now had Healing from Aifric and the ability to grow things from Morna. As I’d stolen those Gifts in their entirety, they were going to stay with me. The other magic I’d stolen from the Sidhe at the Cruaich was little more than a trickle now, even Illusion. I needed to be sparing.
With that in mind, I glanced at the bucket. There was a steel handle on one side of the rim which was attached by a nail. It wasn’t very sturdy. It would take some doing – and no doubt more retching – but I reckoned I could use the sharp edge of the nail to saw my way through my bonds. Once my hands were free, I could unfasten everything else. It would take a lot of time but it wasn’t as if I was going anywhere and it would give me ample opportunity to consider my next move.
In the end, it took me little more than an hour. I faced the door in case any demons appeared. My hands kept slipping and I almost knocked over the bucket on at least three occasions. Thankfully it stayed upright; the last thing I wanted was to be soaked by the contents of someone else’s bladder and bowels.
Although the rope was wrapped tightly round my wrists and the knots were cleverly secured, it wasn’t difficult to free myself. My thief background made it easier for me than it might have been for someone else, but the ease of the process gave me pause. I inspected the frayed edges of the rope; it wasn’t very well made. I pursed my lips and considered. There was still no sound from outside and I seemed to be very much alone. I was beginning to wonder, however.
Shrugging, I loosened the gag. My mouth was unpleasantly dry and I’d have been tempted to sell Bob for a glass of water. I tried to work up some saliva and began to unknot the rope round my ankles. I didn’t hurry; I had a feeling about what was going to happen once I was free. When I unwound the last loop and kicked the rope away there was a scuffle on the other side of the door and it swung open. Shite. Sometimes I hated being right.
The light was dim and the figure staring at me was difficult to make out. I tilted my head to one side and squinted. The Fomori demon spat on the ground and stepped inside. As his features grew clearer, I realised he wasn’t looking at me with fear or apprehension. There wasn’t any malevolence or sense of triumph in his gaze; he seemed simply curious. ‘Adair.’
I decided that was a question. Staying on the ground to show that I was happy to remain subservient, I nodded. ‘Yes.’
He grunted. In stilting, albeit grammatically accurate English, he asked, ‘Why did you not use magic to free yourself?’
So it was a test. What would they have done if I’d had Teleportation as a Gift? Were they prepared for every eventuality? Given the neutrality of his expression, I thought the answer was probably yes.
I chose my words carefully, wanting to ingratiate myself without appearing manipulative or sneaky. ‘One who relies on magic alone is a fool,’ I said.
The demon rolled his tongue around his sharp, yellowing teeth. I suppressed a shudder and continued to look at him as if we were having an idle chat in a café.
He nodded. ‘This will be interesting then.’ He stretched out his bony arms and cracked his fingers one by one. I guessed I was supposed to be intimidated and I was. I was probably also supposed to ask why ‘this’ would be interesting but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.
If he was disappointed by my silence, it didn’t show. He looked at me and I looked at him and absolutely nothing happened. It was like a bizarre staring contest. I was tempted to remain quiet and see if I could break him. Be good, Tegs, I told myself. This wasn’t about my ego.
I licked my chapped lips. ‘You speak English very well.’
The demon snorted. ‘Yes. Our kind spent considerable resources learning Gaelic so we could communicate with your people.’ He didn’t crack a smile. ‘Imagine our unbridled joy when we discovered that more spoke English than Gaelic.’
My eyebrows raised. Sarcasm? From a demon? ‘Are you in charge here?’ I asked.
‘No.’
‘Then,’ I said, without irony, ‘take me to your leader.’
I scratched my head. Okay, then.
The demon gave a guttural noise and two more appeared and walked past him. They looked more nervous than him as they hauled me up by my armpits until I was face to face with their apparent boss, even if he wasn’t the boss.
‘We know of your prophecy,’ the demon said.
‘Prophecies are tricky things,’ I returned. ‘They often don’t come true.’
He inclined his head and a length of straggly hair fell from his forehead. He tucked it behind his ear with one gnarled hand. ‘You are correct. It is also true that to blame the individual for the words of a prophecy is to blame the tide for rising.’
I was starting to like this guy. ‘So,’ I said softly, ‘there is no need for us to be at odds with each other.’
He smiled for the first time. ‘There is plenty of need for that. Furthermore, the Fomori are not in the habit of taking chances, even if we are less bloodthirsty than our Sidhe neighbours.’
Less bloodthirsty? I’d seen compelling evidence to the contrary so that was an interesting statement. ‘The prophecy is vague,’ I pointed out. ‘It could refer to anything.’
‘Vague?’ he asked.
‘It means—’
‘I know what the word means. There is nothing vague about the prophecy however.’
I was prepared to argue the point, even though the demons on either side of me had tightened their grip painfully. ‘One Adair will save Scotland.’ I shrugged. ‘Or Alba, anyway. That could mean anything. Technically, the Lowlands are part of Scotland.’ I leaned forward as much as I could. ‘We are all Alba.’
‘That is not what the prophecy says.’ His lip curled. ‘One Adair will destroy Alba.’
I shook my head vehemently. ‘No! That’s not the wording.’
‘Yes, it is.’ He regarded me calmly. ‘Your own king confirmed it.’
I almost spat. Aifric. ‘He is no king.’
‘Whatever.’ The demon flicked his hand dismissively. ‘We are not monsters, regardless of what your kind may believe. But we will not take chances either.’ For a brief moment, I saw sympathy flicker in his eyes. Then he gestured to the other two. ‘Bring her.’ He turned on his heel and left.