Chapter Nineteen

 

The Sidhe were sticklers for punctuality. I’d slept surprisingly well on the hard bed and the pain in my ribs was far more manageable now I’d had some rest. It was a struggle to get up and drag myself down to meet the rest of my merry band at dawn, even though I was usually a morning person.

They were waiting, several with scowls on their faces. It clearly galled a lot of them that they’d had to come to an Adair for help– and that they’d been forced to delay the trip because of me. For my part, I waved happily at them. Lily and Aifric smiled back. Byron glared at me suspiciously for a moment before relaxing into a small smile. The others simply glowered.

‘Chieftain! You honour me with your request,’ Lily sang.

‘I can’t believe the Macquarries let her come,’ the younger of the two Kincaids muttered.

‘That’s because they’re all crazy,’ I heard the Darroch Chieftain reply. Even though she was agreeing with Kincaid, she still received a nasty look for butting in on the conversation. Interesting. Maybe they all hated each other as much as they hated me.

One by one, they mounted their horses. Even Lily sprang up onto a pretty white mare. ‘No bells,’ she said sadly. ‘I like bells. Ding a ling a ling a ling!’

Byron leaned over to me. ‘She wanted them tied into the mane,’ he informed me. ‘Along with multi-coloured ribbons.’

I shrugged. ‘What’s wrong with that?’ If I could get a nice docile horse with hot-pink fripperies attached to its mane, maybe this riding business wouldn’t be so bad.

Byron frowned. ‘You haven’t forgotten how serious this mission is, have you?’

‘Hey,’ I said lightly, ‘I chose to accept it. It would have been a shame if you chose to self-destruct ten seconds after delivering it, though.’

‘Huh?’

‘Mission Impossible?’

Aifric and his horse trotted over. ‘This mission is far from impossible, Ms. Taylor. Don’t be so anxious.’

Good grief. Pop culture references were clearly going to be lost on this lot.

‘Mount up, Integrity,’ Byron said. ‘We don’t want to waste time.’

He pointed at a red-faced man who was struggling to keep hold the reins of a massive black stallion. It bucked and snorted. Even the other horses seemed terrified of getting too near to it.

My mouth dropped open. ‘You have to be kidding me.’

He smirked. ‘Psych,’ he whispered. ‘He’s mine. That one’s yours.’ He pointed at a chubby mare. It had a vacant expression in its eyes and what appeared to be the chewed remnants of a straw hat hanging out of its mouth. ‘Ethan Hawke might not agree but I thought Barbie would be a better fit.’

I raised my eyebrows. ‘Barbie?’ And Ethan Hawke? Byron wasn’t that removed from the rest of the world after all.

His amusement increased. ‘She likes hot pink too.’

I gazed doubtfully at Barbie. Judging by her expression and her lack of interest in the world around her, I was going to have a hard time getting her to keep up with the others. I wondered if Byron had deliberately picked her to make me look like a fool. Then I dismissed the idea. He was conniving, sure, but generally he was a decent guy.

I walked over and patted  Barbie’s neck nervously. She ignored me. Maybe that was a good thing. I stepped back and eyed her saddle. I could climb up tall buildings without a rope; surely, I could get on top of a horse. I put one foot into the stirrup and pulled myself over. Barbie didn’t so much as twitch.

‘Yee-ha!’ I yelled, lifting a hand in the air as if I were on a bucking bronco.

The Kincaid wanker sniggered, throwing me such a derisive look that I stiffened. I formed my fingers into a gun and mimed shooting him. His amusement was immediately replaced by stark fear. I smiled coldly. Yeah, buster; it was probably not the best move in the world to piss off the mass murderer’s daughter.

As I adjusted my weight, out of the corner of my eye I spotted Byron approaching the black beast. The stallion visibly relaxed, allowing him to stroke his mane. With one lithe movement, Byron sprung up. I eyed his thigh muscles as they tightened round the horse’s girth then coughed slightly when he glanced round, grinning as he caught me staring. Oops. I willed the horse to buck him off but although it had appeared to be a deranged beast, now it stood as docile than Barbie.

Aifric moved to the front of the pack and turned to address us. From my position, I had to crane my neck to look up at him although his aura, a vivid scarlet, remained visible. ‘You should all be proud of yourselves,’ he intoned. ‘What we do will secure the Clans for generations to come. Your children’s children will thank you.’

My shoulders tightened. I wasn’t doing this to ‘secure’ the damn Clans. Aifric seemed to sense my thoughts and continued. ‘By ensuring the safety of the Foinse, we will save countless lives, both Clan and Clan-less.’

That was better. I noticed the two Darroch reps nudge each other at the mention of the Clan-less. I narrowed my eyes at them. Unfortunately they didn’t notice.

‘We will return victorious,’ Aifric boomed. ‘Because for the Sidhe, there is no other way.’ He gazed at us meaningfully then, with a flourish, turned his horse round and took off.

The others followed in his wake. I tried to remember what I was supposed to do to get Barbie to move. I squeezed my legs together but nothing happened; she simply kept on chewing. I gripped the reins. ‘Giddy up!’ She swung her head round as if vaguely curious, blinked once, and returned to chewing.

I gritted my teeth. This couldn’t be that hard. ‘Come on, girl,’ I whispered. ‘You can do this.’ Even Lily was managing her horse perfectly. If I didn’t get Barbie to get a wiggle on, the others would disappear out of sight.

The red-faced man who’d been holding Byron’s horse walked over. I opened my mouth to ask him what on earth I was supposed to do to get her going. He didn’t say a word, just smacked Barbie on her rump. Startled, she burst forward into a canter. I was so unprepared for the sudden movement that I almost fell off backwards. Hanging on for dear life, I bellowed out a thank you. I don’t know whether he replied; I was concentrating too hard on not falling off. Barbie might not look like much compared to the others but, given the right incentive, she really could move.

I followed the others for some distance before we caught up. Aifric still led the way but Byron was at the rear. As soon as Barbie reached him, she started eyeing the stallion’s backside in a manner that had me very worried. She trotted up and gave him a nudge. The stallion was unimpressed, whipping his head round and giving a good imitation of a horsey glare. Before she could try it again, I tugged her reins. She swung her head round at me as if to ask what on earth was wrong with me.

I shrugged. ‘Sorry, Barbs,’ I told her. ‘I don’t think messing with the monster is a good idea.’

Byron, turned his head and frowned.

‘I didn’t mean you,’ I explained. ‘You’re not a monster.’ I thought about it. ‘Well, you’re a blackmailing monster. And a manipulative monster. But…’

‘Integrity,’ he sighed. ‘I thought we were past all this. What kept you, anyway? Were you admiring the scenery?’

‘I have a dozy mare,’ I pointed out. ‘You have a stallion.’

Byron slowed down until we were neck and neck and looked at me critically. ‘You need to relax,’ he instructed. ‘Sit back in the saddle. You’re not a jockey and this isn’t the Grand National. You’ve been hanging around with your old mentor for too long.’

‘You mean instead of spending more time with stand-up guys, like the Darroch women who can’t even pretend to care about the lives of the Clan-less?’ Byron opened his mouth to answer but I didn’t give him a chance. ‘Or with the Kincaids who think it’s okay to sneer openly at another Clan? You lot spend all this time telling the world that you’re better than everyone else when you all hate each other, snipe at each other and apparently go around trying to kill each other.’

His jaw tightened. ‘I’ll admit,’ he said stiffly, ‘that there are some Sidhe who need to learn both manners and humility. And Sidhe politics can be … bloody. But we are not bad people, Integrity.’

‘Neither are the Clan-less.’

‘Point taken.’

I sniffed. Well, good. Rather than continue spelling out the flaws of the Sidhe, I focused on something less controversial. ‘The Foinse?’ I said, a question in my tone.

‘What about it?’

‘How do you know it’s failing? The magic is still working, right? I’ve almost died twice as proof of that.’

Byron considered my question. ‘You’d know if you spent more time on Clan lands,’ he said. ‘The magic is easier to sense here so it’s easier to notice changes. You’re aware of the change in atmosphere before a storm?’

I nodded. ‘Sure.’

‘Well, it’s a similar kind of thing with the magic. We can feel a difference. Few people have been affected so far but it’s definitely there.’ His face took on a tight, brooding expression. ‘There are always lulls with the Foinse, moments when it’s harder to get a handle on our Gifts, or when things don’t work as they should.’

I absorbed this. ‘And when we reach it and open it, then what?’

‘The representatives here aren’t just along because of their Clan blood.’ Byron nodded towards Aifric. ‘My father is better at telekinesis than I am. He will able to fine tune anything that isn’t working. The Darroch woman – not Mali the Chieftain but the younger one – she’s an expert in dowsing. If there’s a blockage somewhere, she’ll be able to locate it.’

‘Ah,’ I said knowledgeably, ‘so it’s like plumbing then.’

Byron looked amused. ‘Sort of.’

‘And the Kincaids?’

‘Both of them are Gifted in precognition.’

I started. ‘Telling the future?’

‘Not quite as obviously as that. They get glimpses of a future that might be. Which is another one of the reasons that we knew the Foinse was failing.’

‘So if we can fix it, they’ll get glimpses that tell them everything will be okay?’

‘In theory. Precognition isn’t an easy Gift to manage.’

I could well imagine. I resolved to keep well away from the pair of them. Not just because they were snooty Sidhe but because seeing the future was about the creepiest thing I could imagine. If Brochan’s theory about me learning others Gifts was correct, then I had to avoid them like the plague. Half the fun of life was not knowing what came next.

‘What do you know about my father’s Gifts?’ I asked, dropping my voice slightly so that the others wouldn’t hear. ‘You said there were three.’

He looked away.

‘Byron?’ I prodded.

He sighed. ‘I don’t know much. You have to remember I was only seven when all that happened.’

Not to mention that there was a conspiracy to get the world to forget the Adairs ever existed. ‘I know,’ I said aloud, crossing my fingers and making a quick decision to twist the truth wherever possible. ‘But as we suspected I didn’t receive a Gift from the grove and I’m curious about what his were.’

‘I heard it said that one of them was soul punching.’ He still wouldn’t meet my eyes.

Whatever that was, it didn’t sound good. ‘What is that?’ I asked quietly.

A muscle twitched in his jaw. ‘It’s the ability to reach inside a person and kill them. Their soul is attacked and, well, they die.’

I absorbed this information. ‘Is that what happened to everyone in the Adair Clan? He … punched their souls?’

Byron nodded. ‘For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re like that.’

‘You don’t think I’m like a mass murderer? Well, that’s comforting.’

‘I didn’t mean it like that.’

I bit my lip. ‘I know.’ I took a deep breath. ‘I heard a story that my father was possessed by a demon. That it wasn’t him at all.’

‘Apart from one incident when I was a kid, there haven’t been demons this side of the Veil in five hundred years. I’m sorry, Integrity. I realise you don’t want to think ill of him.’

‘I never even met him,’ I said. ‘I don’t know what to think.’ I knew what I saw in the grove, though.

Without warning, Byron released one of his reins and took my hand. He squeezed it tightly. Rather than making me feel comforted, the action made me flinch. I tried to force myself to relax. Byron meant well, after all. He pressed his thumb into my palm, drawing small concentric circles. My eyes shot up. He watched me intently, making my mouth dry. It was getting damned difficult to think with any semblance of coherence.

‘There’s something I want you to know,’ he said awkwardly.

I forgot to breathe altogether. ‘Yes?’

‘That day. When we first met and you were just a kid.’

I stiffened, desire fleeing as quickly as it had arrived. ‘The day you called me pathetic.’

He winced. ‘Yes.’ His fingers tightened round mine again as if he were worried I would escape. ‘I knew that things were difficult for you living with the Scyrmgeours.’

‘Difficult?’ I tried to pull away but his grip was too strong. ‘I wasn’t even given a name, Byron. I was just a thing. The Bull’s hounds were treated like kings compared to me.’

‘If I’d been nice to you that day in front of Tipsania, what do you think would have happened?’

‘How the hell should I know?’ I snapped. ‘I ran away about ten minutes after you pissed off. It was the best thing I ever did.’

A shadow crossed his face. ‘I didn’t know you were going to do that,’ he said. ‘All I knew was that if I showed you kindness, Tipsania would take it out on you later. I was trying to get her to leave you alone. It was clumsy and probably did more harm than good. Honestly though, I wasn’t being mean to you.’

I scanned his expression. He seemed earnest; hell, he seemed more than earnest. ‘Why her?’ I asked. ‘If she’s such a bitch, why are you with her now?’

He cursed under his breath. ‘She’s not a bitch, although I can see why many people think that. I’m not with her either. I just hang out with her sometimes. Really, it’s all politics. Her father has money.’ His eyes narrowed unhappily. ‘The Moncrieffes are broke.’

I tried to keep my expression blank. It wouldn’t do either me or him any favours to point out that I’d worked that out already. ‘How can you be broke? You’re the most powerful Clan.’

‘My father hasn’t gone into details but he’s alluded to plenty. Buying loans, paying for expensive penthouse suites and drinking pink champagne doesn’t help,’ he said, shooting me a wry look. ‘And it’s not easy keeping the other Clans in check.’

I glanced ahead. The Kincaid kid and the Darroch woman, whose Gift was dowsing, were bickering loudly. ‘I’ve seen that,’ I admitted. ‘So he’s spent the Moncrieffe fortune because he’s the Steward. Why not give up the title? Pass on the reins to someone else?’

Byron let out a sharp laugh. ‘I’ve asked him that. He’s hell-bent on being his responsibilities, though. He doesn’t think it would be fair to quit.’

My eyes fell on Aifric’s back. He seemed relaxed but if I looked closely, I could just see the line of tension down his spine. ‘Maybe the Clan-less don’t have it so bad,’ I commented.

Byron smiled sadly. ‘Maybe not.’

‘Is that why you sleep around?’ I asked curiously. ‘Because you don’t like Tipsania in that way but you can’t tell her directly?’

The atmosphere between us shifted abruptly and he dropped my hand. ‘I didn’t say I didn’t like her. And I’m not the one who sleeps around. I rather think that’s you.’

‘You mean Jamie. That wasn’t a sex thing.’

His emerald eyes flashed. ‘You could have fooled me.’

‘You’re the one with the playboy reputation.’ And the one who continued to flirt outrageously with me.

‘And,’ he said, his voice dangerously soft, ‘I’d have thought that with your reputation, you’d know better than to place credence on such matters.’

‘So you’ve never cheated on poor Tipsy? Because, Byron, we came pretty close.’ I knew there was unreasonable anger in my tone, but I couldn’t help it.

‘I told you, I’m not with her. Besides, you wanted it a hell of a lot more than I did,’ he growled.

He had me there. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t dwell too much on that,’ I spat back. ‘After all, I drop my knickers when any man so much as looks at me.’

His expression darkened. I had the feeling he was tempted to drag me off poor Barbie and shake me. If it hadn’t been for Lily’s timely interruption, he might have.

‘This is fun, fun, fun!’ she exclaimed, dropping back. ‘Can you feel the crickle crackle, Chieftain?’

‘I’m not a chieftain, Lily,’ I said tiredly. ‘What crickle crackle do you mean?’

Byron nudged the black stallion and sped up, joining his father at the front. He didn’t look back.

‘Him,’ she said, in a tone that suggested she was pointing out the obvious, ‘and you. Lots of crickle crackle.’

I stared at Byron. That was certainly one way of putting it. Me and my big mouth.