Authors: Gillian Philip
Bloodstone
Published by
Strident Publishing Ltd
22 Strathwhillan Drive
The Orchard, Hairmyres
East Kilbride G75 8GT
Tel: +44 (0)1355 220588
[email protected]
www.stridentpublishing.co.uk
© Gillian Philip 2011
The author has asserted her moral right under the Design, Patents and Copyright Act, 1988 to be identified as the Author of this Work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
978-1-905537-23-5
eISBN 978-1-905537-77-8
The publisher acknowledges subsidy from the Scottish Arts Council towards the publication of this volume.
Typeset in Bembo by Lawrence Mann
Cover image © Lawrence Mann.co.uk 2011
Printed by CPI Antony Rowe
G
ILLIAN
P
HILIP
was born in Glasgow and has been writing all her life, though she has tried getting
proper jobs as a barmaid, theare usherette, record store assistant, radio presenter, typesetter, and political assistant to a parliamentary candidate. While living in Barbados, where her steadiest
job was as a singer in an Irish bar, she took up writing professionally. Her debut novel
Bad Faith
– a murderously sinister dystopian satire – met with critical acclaim and is
a favourite with book groups. She was Carnegie Medal-nominated and Royal Mail Award-shortlisted for her young adult novel
Crossing The Line.
Her most recent young adult novel is
The
Opposite of Amber.
In 2001 she moved back to Scotland, and now lives in Morayshire with husband Ian, twins Lucy and Jamie, Cluny the Labrador, Milo the Papillon, Buffy the Slayer Hamster, psycho cats The Ghost and
The Darkness, and several nervous fish.
Praise for
Firebrand
“A fantastically violent, utterly thrilling tale... The contemporary use of enchantment in children’s literature is extensive – but Firebrand is one of the very
best. Like Alan Garner, Philip reforges our most popular myths. Seth exudes a surly sexiness that girls will swoon over, but his rudeness, gutsiness and sense of humour will appeal to boys as much
as the wild Scottish landscape in which he fights, hunts and rides for his life. Philip’s clear prose is as fiery as whisky... this has to be the best children’s fantasy novel of
2010”
Amanda Craig,
The Times
“A completely fresh and exciting fantasy for teenagers... Philip has created an utterly believable other world, where male and female are equals in arms. It is often stark
and brutal but with moments of heartbreaking beauty. I haven’t enjoyed a book in this genre so much since Susan Price’s
The Sterkarm Handshake
.”
Mary Hoffman,
The Guardian
“Philip’s imagination is enviable and the settings and characters are solid, chunky, 3D creations. Seth is feral, loyal, vulnerable and real. This is adventure writing
of immense and energetic skill.”
Keith Gray,
The Scotsman
This one’s for my Lost Boy
Oh Queen of Fays – If I had known of this day’s deed – I would have let your knight, Tam Lin, ride down to Hell on his milk-white steed.
Katherine Langrish
Janet Speaks
THE SITHE
(with True Names where known)
Kate NicNiven
Queen of the Sithe, by consent. Aims to destroy the protecting Veil between the Sithe and full-mortal worlds
Lilith
Kate’s counsellor and friend; mother to Seth
Leonora Shiach
Witch. Mother of Conal and bound lover of Griogair
Griogair MacLorcan (Fitheach)
Assassinated clann Captain
Conal MacGregor (Cù Chaorach)
Rebel clann Captain; son of Griogair
Seth MacGregor (Murlainn)
Son of Griogair and Lilith; half brother to Conal
Stella Shiach (Reultan)
Sister to Conal; daughter of Griogair and Leonora, and former courtier to Kate NicNiven
Aonghas MacSorley
Rebel fighter; bound lover of Stella (Reultan)
Finn MacAngus
Daughter to Stella and Aonghas
Eili MacNeil
Daughter of Neil Mor MacIain; lover to Conal
Sionnach MacNeil
Eili’s twin brother; Seth’s best friend since childhood
Torc Marksson
Fighter; formerly of Kate’s clann, now of Conal’s
Cluaran MacSeumas
A Captain of Kate’s clann
Gocaman
Watcher at the Fairy Loch-Dubh Loch watergate
Cuthag
,
Feorag
,
Gealach, Iolaire, Easag
&
Lus-nan-Leac
Fighters of Kate’s clann
Grian
Healer; fighter of Conal’s clann
Fearna
–
Carraig
Fighters of Conal’s clann
Orach
Fighter of Conal’s clann; occasional lover of Seth
Skinshanks, Slinkbone & Slakespittle
Lammyr: corrupt cousins to the Sithe
‘We shouldn’t be here,’ said Aonghas.
There were so many replies to that one, I didn’t know where to start.
I kept my mouth shut, and my opinions to myself. My brother wouldn’t thank me for starting a squabble. Conal wasn’t looking at either me or Aonghas as he pressed his hand to the wet
salt-crusted rockface, but I’d seen his shoulders tense with irritation and I wasn’t in a mood to push it.
The cliff face had unnerved him, too: he never was good with heights. I’d found the way down and he’d climbed after me, but he hadn’t liked it and his edgy temper lingered.
I’d thought that being with Eili MacNeil last night would have softened his rough edges, but leaving her yet again had only made things worse.
So what? I missed Orach, as much as I was capable of missing anyone. It didn’t mean I couldn’t soak up the light and the landscape of home, storing it away in my cells for the next
long exile. In my head I knew the silver sheen on the water was no different on this side of the Veil, or the shatter of waves on rock, or the clamour of gulls. My heart knew it was a different
world: a whisper’s breadth and a whole universe away. I’d never stopped missing it and I never would. I’d make the most of it on the chances I got.
Find me the Stone
, Kate had said.
Don’t come back till you have it
.
We shouldn’t be here. But it had never been any other way. We’d stopped short of swearing that we’d never cross the Veil, would never come home till we found the Stone.
We’d told Kate we’d stay away, but we’d given no oath.
So we lied. So what? As if we could live without breathing our own air once a decade.
Kate NicNiven must know that as well as we did. And she must suspect that we sneaked through the watergate like thieves now and again, as if we were skulking Lammyr and not the sons of Griogair
Dubh. But if our queen wanted to kill us, she’d have to find us first.
It was a game, that was all. It had become our life’s game. We risked death every time we played, but if we didn’t play, we’d go mad. Anyway, what’s life without an
adrenalin kick?
I think I liked it better than Conal, though. And Aonghas liked it least of all, especially now.
‘I’m serious,’ he went on. ‘We’ve been here too long this time.’
‘I know that,’ snapped Conal.
I gave Aonghas an I-told-you-so look, and he rolled his eyes. They looked even greener than usual because of the khaki green of his t-shirt. He also wore ripped jeans, and his sword in a
scabbard on his back, and despite his claims to seriousness, a broad irrepressible grin.
He had that wistful look, too, gods help us. I knew what was coming.
‘You know,’ he said, ‘we could just stay over there. With the full-mortals. Settle in.’
‘Gods’ sake. You sound like Reultan.’ And who’d have ever thought that proud bitch would become such a convert to the otherworld?
‘She likes it over there. And know what? Maybe she’s right. Maybe we should just – you know – adapt. It’s all right. When’s a full-mortal ever tried to harm
us?’
I laughed in disbelief. ‘Since May last year, you mean?’
‘That was your own fault. I’d have got my mates to beat the shit out of you too, if she’d been my girlfriend.’
‘So what are you saying? We should leave the Veil to Kate’s mercies? Let it die?’
‘Course not. But maybe... we could let things lie. Keep our heads down. Just for a bit.’ He glanced out to sea, embarrassed. ‘Till Finn’s grown up?’