by Helen Harper
I sucked in a breath. Okey-dokey. Tempting as it was to bring up Pavlov’s dog, I didn’t have time to argue the merits or otherwise of conditioning. I glanced over my shoulder to double-check I was still in the clear, then squinted further up the slope.
‘Are there any Fomori here?’
‘They are at the top, guarding the villain.’
Villain? ‘Does this villain have blond hair? Green eyes? Strange clothes?’
‘You know him?’
My heart leapt with hope. ‘Yes. He’s not a villain though, he’s a good guy.’
‘Guy?’
I tutted. ‘Man. I mean, man. How many demons are there?’
‘Five. Six. I do not know.’
I bit my lip. Five or six was a pitiful amount and that didn’t make sense. If Byron was the bait to lure me in, did that mean there were other demons hiding elsewhere?
Somehow I didn’t think my new nameless friend could help; I already knew he was telling the truth. I threw out a quick thanks and began jogging. As pitiful as this man’s situation was, Byron was my priority.
I’d only gone about twenty feet when something occurred to me. I half turned. The Sidhe was still standing beside his pole. ‘What’s your Gift?’ I asked.
He seemed puzzled. ‘I do not know what you mean.’
‘Magic. What magic do you have?’
‘Only the demons possess magic.’
I tightened my jaw. Well, that answered a whole bunch of questions. I thanked him once more. The Fomori plot was definitely thickening. Concentrate on Byron, I told myself. Worry about everything else later.
Time was not on my side. I was still expecting masses of demons to start flinging themselves my way. They’d drawn me towards the castle but they’d catch on sooner or later that I was on my way here to Arthur’s Seat. I pelted up the hill, scree flying in all directions. Some of the figures got to their feet and watched my ascent but others didn’t raise their heads. The eeriness of the whole set-up was starting to get to me.
Not every ‘prisoner’, if I could call them that, was Sidhe. I spotted pixies, Bauchans, humans, trolls ... virtually every race was represented in some way. There was no doubting who was in charge; the Fomori’s grip was iron-clad. The demons had a hell of a lot to answer for – and maybe we did too for letting this continue for so long. The thought spurred me to move faster.
It was hard going. I was used to mountainous terrain from my short stint with mountain rescue and this was more like a big hill than a mountain, so it should have been easy for me to climb. Adrenaline was still pulsing through my veins, which helped considerably, but the knowledge of the demons both behind and ahead of me, and my worry about Byron’s state, made climbing difficult.
I was sweating, my clothes sticking to my skin and my hair plastered to my forehead. Whatever scent I’d got from wearing May’s discarded T-shirt was no doubt gone. Eau de sweaty Integrity was all that remained. The gnawing feeling that I’d have to fight if I wanted to rescue Byron wouldn’t leave me. It’s inevitable, an irksome little voice whispered; your true name means warrior. It’s time to go to war.
I was getting used to the silent, huddled shapes around me. They were a sorry, downtrodden lot – so when a hand stretched out and grabbed my ankle, it was so unexpected that I went flying.
I twisted, kicked away and scrambled backwards, my breath coming in short, heavy gasps. I blew back the damp hair that had fallen into my eyes and peered at whoever had made me fall. My hands were already up to ward off the next attack.
It was a pixie but not a cheeky, dimpled pixie like Lexie. This version was covered in a layer of grime so thick I could probably grow daisies on her skin. Unlike almost all the other people here, she was chained up. She raised manacled wrists and pressed a finger to her lips, warning me to be quiet. I gaped at her.
‘You have white hair. Purple eyes.’ She stared at me in wonder. ‘You are the one they fear,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve heard about you.’
I scrambled forward. ‘What? What have you heard?’
‘They say that there’s a prophecy, that you will kill them all.’ Her eyes gleamed through the darkness. ‘Do not hesitate. You must do it.’
‘I...’ I shook my head. ‘I cannot. The prophecy is wrong.’
She leaned towards me. ‘If it was wrong, the demons would not be so terrified.’
‘They’re mistaken.’
She bared her teeth into the semblance of a smile. ‘They are not. We need you.’ She clanked her chains as she jerked her hand and pointed. ‘You are here for him.’
‘The Sidhe man?’ I asked urgently.
She laughed softly. ‘The well-fed one? Yes. They thought you would go to the castle and take the dreeocht. You will need to do that but now is not the time.’
‘Take the what?’
‘Dreeocht,’ she repeated.
I couldn’t work out what she meant. ‘Dree...’ My voice faltered. She was using the Gaelic word. Draoidheachd.
‘Magic,’ I whispered.
She smiled again and nodded. ‘You will return. And you will take it.’ She lunged forward and I thought for a moment she was going to attack me. The intensity in her expression was painful to look at. ‘You will save us.’
‘I’m not the one you want,’ I said. Putting hope in me would only lead to desperate disappointment.
The pixie didn’t argue. ‘Go now. I will help you.’
I opened my mouth to ask her another question but it was too late. She flipped back her head and began to shout at the top of her voice. Her words were nonsensical to me but, whatever she was saying, it was loud enough to wake the dead. Or the Fomori.
I hurtled away in a bid to put as much distance as possible between me and the pixie. It was just as well I reacted so quickly because, within a few breaths, several Fomori demons came clumping along, hissing and spitting in her direction.
She yelled and shrieked. They were so focused on the screaming pixie that they didn’t notice me barely a few metres away.
And then I finally saw him.
He was set apart from others and tethered to a pole with a chain which was wrapped cruelly round his torso. His trousers were ripped and he was shirtless. Several cuts were visible across his chest but there didn’t appear to be any fresh blood seeping from them. His head had fallen forward so I couldn’t see his face. If it wasn’t for the slight rise and fall as he breathed, I’d have wondered whether he was dead.
There were no other demons in sight. The pixie continued to screech. There were harsh words from the demons, followed by a loud crack. I shuddered. A whip.
I wasted no more time. I still expected to be waylaid by hordes of the ugly, naked bastards but, as I darted towards the pole, nothing happened.
‘Byron!’ I hissed.
He groaned and I gritted my teeth. Still no more demons came. Were they waiting until I released him? Maybe they wanted me to think I’d won and then they’d snatch away my victory.
I fumbled with the rusting padlock that held the chains in place. It was solid and looked impenetrable but it was old and the lock mechanism was simple. It took very little effort to wield my lock pick and force the padlock open.
I pulled at the chains as quietly as I could. Byron lifted his head, his pain-glazed eyes taking me in. ‘Hallucinating,’ he muttered.
‘You’re not bloody hallucinating!’ I hissed. I unwound the last of the chains and carefully lowered them to the ground whilst attempting to support Byron’s body. He fell heavily against me.
‘You smell awful,’ he said. He frowned. ‘You’re really here.’
‘That’s how you know I’m real? Because I smell bad?’ I put my arm round his waist and tried to get him to move.
‘Normally,’ he murmured, in a voice so shaky and weak it was barely audible, ‘you smell like strawberries. If this was a dream, then that’s what I would smell.’ His head dropped onto my neck. ‘You smell like shit.’
Unbelievable. All this way to re
scue his sorry arse and all he could say when I showed up was that I was stinky. ‘Shut up,’ I whispered tersely. ‘Conserve your strength. We need to get the hell out of here.’
There was a loud crack and the pixie abruptly fell silent. My stomach tensed. What had they done to her? ‘We need to go, Byron, otherwise we’re both dead meat.’
We stumbled away, slipping and sliding in our bid to get down Arthur’s Seat and as far away from here as possible. I spun round once we were almost out of sight. I could already see the stretching shadows of the returning demons. I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed this would work. Illusion was a difficult Gift to master – or so I’d heard. I only had it in limited quantities and there was very little time. I had to concentrate or all was lost.
Heady power swirled through my veins. I felt Byron tense and my shoulders tightened. Come on. Come on. Then I opened my eyes. ‘It worked,’ I gasped.
There, bent against the pole, was a near-perfect illusion of Byron. It was like he’d never left it. A shiver rippled through him. ‘You stole Illusion,’ he whispered.
‘Let’s not get into an argument about the rights and wrongs of thievery till later.’ I twisted round once more. Byron fell against me but I managed to catch him. Once again we began half stumbling, half running down the hill.
‘Integrity,’ he said, his voice barely audible, ‘the illusion won’t last long. We’ve got minutes at best.’
I grimaced. ‘Then we need to damned well hurry.’
Chapter Eighteen
Rather than re-trace my steps through the silent – and potentially deadly – city streets, Byron and I went in the opposite direction. We could skirt round most of the buildings. It meant we’d be exposed but we’d have more warning if thousands of Fomori demons came after us. What was left unsaid was that, no matter what we did, if we found ourselves in that situation we were not going to make it.
Byron was in a bad way. He put up a good show of not being in pain but the white lines around his mouth and the frequently glazed look in his eyes gave him away. The demons hadn’t treated him kindly; I guessed the Geneva Convention didn’t apply to them. When he started shivering, I hastily peeled his jacket off my shoulders and draped it round him.
We were still stumbling along old cobbled streets when his legs gave out completely and he collapsed into a heap. ‘Integrity,’ he gasped. ‘You...’
I knew exactly what he was about to say but I wasn’t going to give him the chance. I put my finger to his lips then took a bottle of water from my bag and discarded everything else. If we were further away, I’d let him rest but we had to get away from the city limits first.
Without saying a word, I put his arms round my neck. He instantly understood but tried to resist. Fortunately for both of us, he was as weak as a kitten and I was stronger than I looked. I took his legs and staggered up so he was hanging over me piggy-back style. He groaned, whether in pain, embarrassment or relief I had no idea. I shifted his weight and we continued, albeit far more slowly. Now I wished he didn’t have all those heavy, sexy muscles. Why couldn’t he be a skinny runt instead?
‘When we get back home,’ I huffed, ‘I’m going to have you arrested for those guns.’
He didn’t answer. Panicking, I paused in mid-step but I could feel his hot breath on my neck. He was still with me. Barely.
I struggled on. The buildings began to thin out and become even more derelict. I had to put as much distance between us and the city centre as possible because I was still wary of the far-senser. The Gift I’d stolen only had a radius of two miles but his might be very different although I had to assume, given that I’d made it this far, that he couldn’t stretch it indefinitely. But I was getting weaker and my knees were starting to buckle under Byron’s weight. It didn’t help that I had to clutch at him to prevent him from sliding off my back.
When I was certain I could go no further, I left the road and headed for the nearest building. To be honest, building was probably a generous description ‒ it was only two walls and half a roof ‒ but it would do for now. I needed a break to regain some strength.
I meant to let Byron down gently but unfortunately he landed with a heavy thump, cracking his head on the dirty flagstones. I winced and hunkered down to check him over. His pulse was weak but steady. Hopefully I’d not done his skull any permanent damage.
I unscrewed the lid on the water bottle and tipped a small amount of liquid into his mouth. His swallow reflex kicked in so I gave him a bit more before taking a tiny swig myself. Then I leaned back against the nearest wall, closing my eyes. Ten minutes. All I needed was ten minutes’ rest.
It felt like about ten seconds. My entire body ached but as much as I wanted to curl up and get a proper sleep, I couldn’t afford to. I glanced down and realised that Byron’s emerald-green eyes were fixed on me.
‘Hey.’
His tongue darted out, wetting his lips. ‘You shouldn’t have come for me,’ he said huskily.
I shrugged, ignoring the shooting pain the movement sent down my spine. ‘I was at a loose end.’
He forced himself up to a sitting position. ‘I mean it, Integrity. Leave me here. You need to get back to the Highlands. The demons...’ He shuddered. ‘The demons are after you.’
‘Tell me something I don’t know.’ I smiled. ‘It’s fine. We’re less than two hours away from the Veil. We’ll make it.’
He shook his head. ‘They kept saying your name.’
‘Well,’ I replied, ‘it is a pretty cool name.’
‘Your Clan name,’ he said. ‘They said it over and over again. Adair. Adair.’ He pushed back a lock of golden hair. ‘Every time a new demon appeared, they got into my face and said it again. Adair.’
‘Did they say anything else?’
‘That was all I understood.’
I rubbed the back of my neck. ‘They’re scared of me. It’s something to do with that stupid prophecy. They think I’m going to save Scotland by killing them all.’ I hadn’t thought he could get any paler but he did.
I laughed without humour. ‘What no one seems to realise is that I’ve already saved Scotland. I freed the Foinse. By saving the magic, I saved the country. All this demon stuff is nonsense.’ I tried not to think about the magic the chained-up pixie had mentioned.
‘I don’t think they got that memo.’
‘No.’ I dropped my eyes. I didn’t want to do this but, considering what was coming next, I had to try. I had to give Byron one last chance to believe me. ‘Your father didn’t want me to come,’ I said quietly. ‘He was going to leave you here to...’ My voice trailed off. Byron’s imagination was probably more vivid than mine; he’d had plenty of time chained to that post to think about what was going to happen to him.
His jaw tightened. ‘My father did the right thing. Other people cannot be sacrificed because of me. You should have left me.’
‘Would you have left me if our roles had been reversed?’ He didn’t answer. ‘Byron,’ I persisted. ‘Your father admitted that my father didn’t massacre his own Clan. Aifric engineered it because the Fomori wanted more land and the only way he could stave them off was to give them the Adairs. He thought that would stall the prophecy.’
‘But they already have all the land they could possibly need,’ he returned.
‘I know but that’s what your father said. He...’
There was a sudden screech from overhead. Without meaning to, my hand snapped out and clutched Byron’s. He squeezed it sharply and then we both froze, awaiting inevitable discovery.
‘You have to go,’ he whispered.
‘Hush.’
We waited. Five seconds. Ten. Almost a full minute passed before the screech sounded again. This time it was further away fading into the distance. I let out the breath I’d been holding. ‘We both need to go,’ I said firmly.
‘Leave me,’ he insisted. ‘I’m too weak. I can’t feel my Gifts but if I rest some more I’ll recoup enough energy to bring them back. Then I can fight.
’
‘We’re not fighting, Byron. We’re fleeing.’ I stood up and tugged at his hand. ‘Can you stand?’
‘I’m not coming.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Then I’m not going. We’re at an impasse.’
‘Integrity...’
‘Look at me. I’m not leaving you behind.’ I grinned. ‘Otherwise it’s a complete waste of a day.’
‘You’re the most bloody stubborn woman I’ve ever met. Even Tipsania is more amenable than you.’
‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘but you love me really.’
Something flashed in his eyes. ‘Integrity,’ he said again.
‘We’re leaving.’ I tied back my hair and pulled him to his feet. ‘Now.’
Thankfully he stopped resisting. The rest had done enough to allow him to walk, although I remained close in case he fell again. We limped our way forward, the sunny Highlands beckoning to us. I kept the thought of hills covered in blooming purple heather, the smiling faces of my friends and even the half-derelict Adair mansion in the forefront of my mind. The dark, scarred landscape we were in was almost too much to bear. Even with the knowledge that their skin was too sensitive to sunlight to withstand the world beyond the Veil, I couldn’t fathom how the demons and their captives managed to live in this godforsaken land. I’d barely spent a day there and I already felt like I was going insane.
After an hour of relentless plodding, I asked Byron if he needed another rest. He shook his head grimly, the heaviness of the Lowlands affecting him as much as me. He was looking paler, so I put my arm round his shoulders to support his weight. We struggled on like that – and it was just as well we did. Not ten minutes passed when the expanse of the Veil finally came into view.
I felt Byron’s muscles sag with relief. Finally the end was in sight.
‘We made it,’ he said, as if he couldn’t quite believe his eyes.
I pulled my own gaze away from the streaks of lightning which, for once, were a pleasure to behold. He reached out and cupped my face. ‘Thank you. I owe you my life.’
I tried to smile. I knew what was coming next. ‘You’re welcome.’ I looked ahead. It was probably only another twenty minutes before we’d pass back through again. There were still no demons in sight.