Veiled Threat (23 page)

There was a pause. Aifric roared some garbled words which sounded vaguely like ‘get the fuck out of here’. I made out some scuffling of feet and slamming of doors, then he came back on the line.

‘You just don’t get it, do you? This was the deal.’

I held my breath. ‘What? What deal?’

When he answered this time, his voice was more even and controlled. Although I instinctively knew that this was it – that I was finally about to get some answers – I was also painfully aware that there was very little Aifric did without reason. Even with his only child in mortal danger, he still knew what he was doing. This was a calculated move. ‘The deal to keep the Highlands safe.’ He laughed harshly. ‘You think all this is about you but you’re just a leftover. It’s your heritage that counts, not you. You’re nothing more than a tiny piece of the puzzle. And an inconsequential piece, at that.’

Somehow I doubted that. He wouldn’t keep going to such trouble to do away with me if that were the case. I stayed silent, however. I didn’t want to interrupt him now he was on a roll.

‘Twenty-five years ago,’ Aifric continued, ‘when I first became Steward, the demons sent an emissary. They wanted more land. Unless we agreed to move back the Veil, they threatened to come here. To kill babies, Highland babies.
Sidhe
babies. I put my own safety at risk to broker a deal to stop them from taking what they wanted. They agreed to it with a single proviso.’ He paused dramatically. Considering I didn’t think this phone call could be any more dramatic, it was a wasted effort. ‘Destroy the Adair Clan. Wipe out the entire line and erase them from history.’

He was doing it; he was admitting what had happened. ‘So,’ I said, with a quick look at Brochan, ‘you’re saying that my father didn’t kill anyone. You did.’

‘What would you have you done in my place? Would you be brave enough to take one life in order to save a thousand?’

I knew I was brave enough not to; compromise your morals and you compromise the fabric of society. I didn’t bother answering his question. ‘Why?’ I asked. ‘What did the Fomori demons have against the Adairs?’

‘The prophecy, of course,’ he snapped. ‘That the one Adair will save Alba.’

I froze. Aifric had used the old Gaelic word for Scotland but there was no denying the direct simplicity of the prophecy I’d heard so much about. I was the one Adair ‒ I had to be because I was the only one left. But how could I save the entire country? My world flipped on its head.

Aifric continued blithely. ‘The demons took it to mean that if an Adair lived, they would destroy the Veil and destroy them. They wanted you all dead and gone before that happened. In return, they left us alone. The only reason you weren’t killed was because you were an innocent baby. I’m not a complete monster.’

Trying to overcome my shock at the revelation that I was supposed to be some kind of national heroine, I almost laughed. ‘That’s not true, is it? You wanted leverage against the Fomori in case everything went tits up. Plus, there was the small matter of the Foinse possibly failing. Even then, you probably knew the magic was faltering and you’d need me to help bring it back.’

‘You’re very cynical for one so young.
I
saved you. Now you need to repay that favour. Your trip across the Veil before the Games must have alerted the Fomori to the fact that the Adairs are not all dead and buried. That’s why they’ve returned. They’re searching for you. I could have persuaded them that they were mistaken but you went back to the Lowlands again. You just couldn’t help yourself. You are the master of your own destruction – and my son’s. The question that remains is how many are you prepared to bring down with you before that happens?’ He spat in disgust. ‘The only thing that will save Byron – and the rest of the Highlands of Scotland – is if you give yourself up to the demons. Then the Adair Clan will be finished for good and the country can live in peace. You brought this on your own head.’ He waited a beat. ‘And this is how you fulfil the prophecy.’

I swallowed. ‘And what if I say no?’ I asked, my mind whirling. ‘You’ll just leave your own son to be tortured? Enslaved? Murdered?’

There was a moment of silence. ‘He’s only one person. To send anyone after him would be to send them to their deaths. We can’t beat the Fomori, we can only negotiate.’

‘And your only negotiating power is me?’

‘Your life for his. And Scotland’s. Chieftain Adair,’ he spoke the name disdainfully with his treacherous tongue, ‘the choice is entirely yours.’

And with that, he hung up.

W
e sat cross-legged in a circle in the main courtyard. Although Brochan’s gills were bristling, the tips of Speck’s ears were bright red and Lexie was clutching the fabric of her skirt so tightly that it was a wonder she had any circulation left in her fingers, no one said a word.

Taylor was absent-mindedly rolling the water bottle, with Bob inside it, up and down his thigh. I could only imagine that the genie had elected to stay inside because he was making a point – whatever that may be. The continuous spinning motion seemed to be turning him green. Eventually, as Taylor paused for a moment, Bob rapped sharply against the plastic sides and glared. Realising what he’d been doing, my old mentor placed the bottle upright in the centre of our circle.

‘Byron’s already been gone for almost four hours,’ I said, when it became clear that no one else was going to break the silence. ‘We know from my first visit that the demons rouse themselves at midday. If we’re going to mount a rescue plan, we have about twelve hours before we can head back into the Lowlands.’

Taylor folded his arms. ‘You need to take Byron Moncrieffe out of the equation.’

‘I can’t.’

‘You don’t even know whether Aifric was telling the truth.’

I fingered a curl, wrapping it round my pinkie. ‘He was telling a version of the truth. There are still a lot of unanswered questions.’

‘Such as,’ Brochan said, ‘whether that damn prophecy is true.’

‘And,’ Lexie piped up, her eyes now filled with concern rather than censure, ‘how the freaking Fomori found out about it.’

I released the curl and flicked it over my shoulder. ‘They have Gifts too. There could well have been a Fomori demon with precognition who foretold the same prophecy as the Sidhe.’

‘Prophecies are tricky things,’ Taylor argued. ‘They are only one possible version of the future. Our lives are not set in stone. Even if you sacrifice yourself, it might come to naught.’

I nodded distractedly.

‘What about Aberdeen?’ Speck asked quietly. ‘Should we go up there and try to help?’

‘That was my immediate reaction,’ I admitted. ‘But I get the feeling that whatever has happened up there has been and gone. By the time we reach the city, things will be under control.’

Bob knocked against the side of the bottle and I unscrewed the lid. ‘What?’

‘You could make a wish! That would solve everything.’

I put the top back on again. ‘Aifric said that this all started because the Fomori wanted more land but that doesn’t make sense. They have lots of land. As far as I can tell, the demons all live within the city limits. They’ve got acres and acres of countryside.’

‘Tegs, I’m not sure how this started is relevant right now. I know you. You’re going to do what Aifric said, aren’t you?’ Taylor ran a frustrated hand through his white hair and gazed at me. ‘You’re going to sacrifice yourself.’

I lifted my chin. ‘Last time, the entire Clan was massacred. The trolls who worked for the Clan, the pixies, the warlocks and the mermen and whoever else had sworn fealty – they all died.’

Speck blanched. ‘When we shared blood, does that mean...?’

‘It doesn’t matter. If I’m gone, they’ll still come after you. Aifric or the demons or whoever. Sacrificing myself means sacrificing all of you too.’

They absorbed this for a moment then Lexie got slowly up to her feet and tossed back her blue hair. ‘So be it. If you’re going to kill yourself to save Scotland then so we are we.’ She fist-pumped the air. ‘For the Highlands! At least that demon hanging out upstairs with Tipsania won’t be a worry any longer.’

‘Martyrdom isn’t my idea of a good time,’ I said drily. ‘I’m not about to throw myself to the demons on Aifric Moncrieffe’s say-so. I’m certainly not going to do it to you.’

Her relief was palpable. ‘Oh. Good.’ She sat down again.

There were some muffled words from inside the water bottle. Once more I unscrewed the lid. ‘Say that again, Bob.’

‘I said,’ he called upwards, ‘I’ve known some great martyrs in my time. It won’t be that bad. I’ll make sure there’s a statue built of you all. Something with a fountain. It’ll be pretty. We could even make it pink.’

‘Gee, thanks Bob,’ Brochan said sarcastically. ‘Except you’re one of us so you’ll need to martyr yourself too and become a piece of pink stone. And get out of that stupid bottle.’

Bob wrinkled his nose. ‘Not until Uh Integrity apologises.’ He paused. ‘Am I really one of you?’

‘Yes,’ I told him. ‘As I keep telling you. But I have nothing to apologise for.’

He got to his feet and began railing. ‘You put me in a bottle! I am not the genie in the bottle! I am the genie in the scimitar!’

‘Christina Aguilera would like you if you were a genie in a bottle,’ Lexie pointed out.

Bob’s brow furrowed. ‘She is kind of cute.’ Then his expression cleared. ‘But no. Apologise or I’m staying right here.’

I shrugged. ‘Stay there then.’

Before he could launch into yet another tirade, Taylor interrupted. ‘So you’re telling me that you’re going to let Byron be tortured or executed or whatever by the Fomori demons and you’re going to let the threat of more attacks hang over everyone’s heads?’

‘Don’t be silly.’ I forced a grin. ‘I’m going to come up with a fabulous fool-proof plan to save Byron and protect the Highlands.’

‘Ah.’ He scratched his chin and leaned over to Speck. ‘I’ll give you good odds that by this time tomorrow we’ll all be dead.’

***

I
started with Perth because it was the closest city of any reasonable size. If I’d had more time, I’d probably have tried elsewhere but I was painfully aware that, as far as Byron was concerned, time could mean vital organs. And that was before I started worrying about what was happening in the rest of the country.

Speck parked the car as close to the city centre as he could and we all piled out. Lexie threw me a baseball cap. ‘To hide your hair,’ she explained as I caught it. ‘So no one knows it’s you.’

I tossed it back to her. ‘I think the time for worrying about staying incognito is gone.’ I didn’t feel good about what I was going to attempt but it was the best I could come up with at short notice. ‘It’s probably wise to not let anyone see the Foinse though.’

Taylor held up the drawstring bag containing the magical sphere. It thrummed happily and golden light leaked round the edges of the cotton. It didn’t look natural; if anyone happened to see it, they’d wonder if we were hoisting around a lump of radioactive plutonium. ‘Is this going to make a difference?’ he asked dubiously.

‘I have no idea but having it with us can’t do any harm. If we’re lucky, it’ll help me steal just that little bit more without damaging anyone too much in the process.’

‘They’re only Sidhe,’ Speck grumbled. ‘Steal away.’

I grimaced. My feelings on that matter were complicated. I’d just have to be careful, that was all.

I’d been slightly nervous that, despite the time of day, there wouldn’t be any Sidhe around but I shouldn’t have worried; apparently the terrible events up in Aberdeen had brought the locals out in force. Unfortunately, far too many of them were using the opportunity to make a big deal out of their status, stopping people in the streets. Both ends of the pedestrianised precincts had been closed off and there were burly Moncrieffe, Polwarth and Calder Sidhe bullying passers-by and interrogating them about their purpose. When one little old lady, who appeared Clan-less, refused to show any identification, one of the Calders conjured up a black cloud that enveloped her entire body. The Clan-less, whether they were little old ladies or not, were made of strong stuff but even so I could hear her screams from inside it and my blood curdled.

‘What Gift is that?’ Speck asked.

‘Buggered if I know. It might come in handy, though.’ I concentrated hard, focusing on the Sidhe and telling myself I wanted the Gift because it could help with concealment. I had to fight with my own subconscious; I didn’t want to make anyone scream like that. My stomach flipped and I staggered. It had worked. I could already feel the magic flowing through me.

The Calder Sidhe let out a strangled yell and his own cloud dissipated. He clutched at his chest. His companions seemed to think this was the old lady’s doing and prepared to advance.

‘I’ve got this,’ Brochan said.

He strode forward, reached into the cloud and yanked the woman out. She fell backwards with him. She was scratching all over and her eyes were wild, writhing white in their sockets. Even Brochan seemed to be affected and he started rubbing at his arm where it had connected with the cloud. His movements grew more and vigorous and there was a strange keening moan deep inside his chest. He jerked and twitched, then he began remonstrating loudly. The Polwarth Sidhe seemed to take umbrage at his interference and flicked his fingers. Whatever he’d just done, it wasn’t good for us. Brochan’s voice faltered and he began to choke.

‘Tegs,’ Taylor warned.

I grimaced. ‘I’m trying.’ It wasn’t working. No matter how hard I concentrated, I couldn’t make myself believe that I wanted any part of that Darth Vader-like Gift. Fortunately, another Moncrieffe Sidhe showed up, placed a hand on the Polwarth’s arm and forced him to quit. Brochan gasped, apparently released from the spell.

‘I know that guy,’ Speck said.

I glanced up. It was Byron’s buddy, Jamie. Shite. I didn’t want to let him see me ‒ it would just mean conversations and delays. ‘Let’s try a different street,’ I suggested.

We moved away from the main thoroughfare. Brochan rejoined us soon after. ‘Are you alright?’ I asked.