by Helen Harper
If I could have killed him with a look, I might have. Last time I checked, I was still a bloody Chieftain and I still ranked alongside him. I tried to speak again, to no avail.
‘If she has done the deeds of which you accuse her, however,’ Kincaid continued, ‘there is no doubt that she will lie. In fact, she has already obviously lied because she is standing there, living and breathing.’
Aifric rubbed his chin as if deep in thought. Were these idiot Sidhe falling for this act? ‘Hmm, yes. I wonder if you would be so good…’ he gestured towards the Kincaid Clan.
‘It would be our pleasure. Several of my Clan members have Truth-Telling as a Gift.’ Malcolm Kincaid nodded at Kirsty.
She blanched. ‘Someone else.’
He seemed puzzled. So she’d kept the information that she no longer had her Gift from her own Chieftain. That was curious because Tipsania knew that she’d lost it. Before I could dwell on this little titbit, however, Kincaid pointed at an older woman. ‘Molly then.’
Molly Kincaid inclined her head and stood up. Aifric beckoned her over. With obvious reluctance, she sidled past her compatriots and walked up the aisle, brushing past various flowers and ribbons.
‘Let’s try again, shall we?’ Aifric said. He turned to me and asked in a sad voice, ‘Did you fake your own death?’
I hissed and this time the sound tripped out of my mouth. ‘Yes. But…’ The rest of my sentence was ripped away from me. Apparently I wasn’t going to be allowed to say much at all. That could prove troublesome.
There was a murmur from the watching Sidhe. This was beginning to feel like an episode of Jerry Springer. Aifric sighed loudly. ‘This is very hard for me,’ he declared. ‘I took it upon myself to help Integrity. There were many among you who did not want her to visit the Cruaich grove and receive her true name but I trusted her enough to permit it. I was willing to take her in and treat her like one of my own family, despite her well-advertised past as a thief. You all know how close I was to her father and how difficult it was for me to accept what happened all those years ago.’
My mouth dropped open, so wide with disbelief that Brochan could probably have steered a container ship through it. Many heads nodded in agreement. Aifric was being incredibly canny here; his words were vague enough to avoid being outright lies but there was no doubt what he was implying. ‘I have to face facts: Gale Adair was a dangerous man and his daughter is no different.’
I didn’t hit people. I didn’t hit people. I didn’t hit people. But I trembled with bitter rage.
One of the Moncrieffes from Byron’s stag party stood up. ‘She let the Foinse escape! We’ve got less magic now because of her!’ There was a chorus of angry mutters. It got louder and I felt as if I were being assailed with a wave of hatred from the crowd. Right now that was nothing compared to how I was feeling about Aifric, who held his hand up for quiet.
‘That is true,’ he said as if he begrudged admitting it. ‘She did do that. And she has done even worse.’ He turned to me again. ‘Integrity Adair, how many times have you travelled across the Veil?’
The compulsion to remain silent was lifted from me once more. I was getting really tired of this. ‘Technically four, although…’ I ground my teeth as I lapsed into silence again. I searched the hundreds of Sidhe facing me, each face agog. Whoever was doing this would give themselves away. There had to be some kind of tell-tale movement.
Aifric raised his eyebrows at Molly Kincaid. She bobbed her head primly. ‘She is telling the truth.’
I gazed across the gathered Sidhe. To say that they looked shocked would be an understatement. I forced myself to stop concentrating on how they felt and continued methodically searching for who was using their Gift to control my mouth. There were hundreds of them; I was going to need some luck. Scratch that. I was going to need a lot of luck.
‘We all know,’ Aifric said, ‘that the Fomori have been causing us many problems lately.’ He made an excellent effort at looking sad. ‘The incursions they’ve made into the Highlands have had a devastating effect and I shall impart more tragic news concerning that in a moment.’ He sighed. ‘It was not clear before why they had decided to suddenly start broaching the Veil after years of peace.’ His voice dropped. ‘I think it is now. Tell me, Integrity, did they come here because of you?’
I snapped my eyes away from the crowd and stared at him. The fact was that he had told me they’d come to the Highlands looking for me, that they’d been afraid of the prophecy. On at least two occasions, I’d had proof of their motivation from my own eyes. ‘It’s complicated,’ I began, as the magic lifted from me once more.
Aifric shook his head. ‘Yes or no will suffice.’
Screw him. He was the one who had three dead Fomori demons bricked into a cavity in his study. I drew back my shoulders. ‘No.’ My voice rang out clear as a bell.
Molly Kincaid flinched. ‘She’s lying.’
I wanted to scream. The worst part was that this was Molly telling it as her Gift saw it. It wasn’t the absolute truth – but there was enough of a lie in my answer for her Gift to tell her I was lying.
Chieftain MacBain rose slowly to her feet. Her face was white and pinched. ‘Chieftain Adair,’ she almost choked on the words, ‘came to me to arrange for payment in return for passing through the Veil and retrieving Matthew’s bones. If I had known she had ulterior motives I would have prevented her. To be in league with those creatures…’ Her horror was palpable.
I looked at her, using everything I had to impart silently that I had made no pact with the Fomori demons. Our alliance might be shaky but if I could just get her to see… It was no use; she’d already made up her mind.
‘She really is just like her father,’ someone murmured.
Catching the whisper, I glared at the offender. Yeah? I was just like him, I was just like him because I was a decent person who was being destroyed by Aifric Moncrieffe. Unfortunately for me, my simmering and obvious anger only created fear. Fear of me.
I looked from one face to another. No. No. No. No. Someone here was controlling me and I had to find out who. Not them. Or them. No. No. Maybe. Damn it. No.
‘I have it on good authority,’ Aifric intoned, ‘that the Fomori are amassing an army. They are gathered on the other side of the Veil and are preparing to attack.’
For a moment his words barely registered then I stopped my panicked scan of the room and turned to him, gaping. The same Truth-Telling Gift which buzzed through Molly’s body told me that he was speaking the truth. Things were worse than I thought.
‘Whose Lands are closest to the Veil?’ Aifric asked softly.
‘Adair!’ someone shouted.
He nodded grimly. ‘Yes, Adair.’
Seriously? Now I was being damned because of geography? I threw my hands up in disgust but, because of the handcuffs, the gesture was lost on my audience although those on the front row did pull back as if they were scared that I’d attack them.
‘You will have noticed,’ Aifric continued, ‘that the MacQuarries are not here. They were attacked only two days ago. There were…’ he closed his eyes for a brief second as if in pain ‘…some deaths. Tipsania Scrymgeour’s father, whom we know Integrity Adair despised, and Morna Carnegie.’
The entire Carnegie Clan jerked in horror. They weren’t alone; Morna had been well liked by everyone. The Bull was dead as well but even this lot knew he had been an oaf. It was Morna’s passing which caused the real dismay.
‘Integrity,’ Aifric said, looking me directly in the eyes, ‘was her death a result of your actions?’
It seemed as if the congregation was holding its breath. That absolute bastard. He didn’t know that by stealing her Gift, I had hastened her passing but he did know that I believed she would still be alive if I hadn’t asked her to go to the MacQuarrie Lands. In that sense, she was indeed dead because of me. What answer could I give?
The Sidhe were growing agitated with my silence. ‘Answer him!’ several of the yelled. ‘
Say the words, you Adair bitch!’
Aifric knitted his fingers together. ‘I’ll ask again. Was Morna Carnegie’s death a result of what you did?’
‘Yes.’ My voice was barely audible but it didn’t matter. The room erupted and at least five Sidhe leapt out of their chairs and lunged towards me. Aifric blocked their path but they seemed determined to rip me to shreds. They were like a group of baying hounds – and they were baying for my blood. The noise was deafening. Aifric turned to face me, making sure no one else could see his expression. There was a glimmer of triumph in his eyes and a sly smile on his mouth. Then his face smoothed over into the calm façade of the benevolent Steward once again.
‘People! Calm down! She will answer for her crimes in prison!’
There were shouts in response. ‘No! She deserves to die!’
‘Execute her!’
The call rippled round the room as if we were in a football stadium. At this stage, I wouldn’t have been surprised if they started a Mexican wave. The chant rose and rose, ‘Kill her. Kill her. Kill her.’
I straightened my shoulders. There was no sensible way out of this. I would have to rip the Gifts from as many of these Sidhe as possible and damn the consequences. I didn’t know what I’d be getting but I’d have to pray to get at least some magic I could use ‒ and that taking it and using it to serve me wouldn’t send Taylor to his grave. I drew in a deep breath and prepared ‒ then the doors of the church were flung open and a fireball was launched across everyone’s heads, slamming into the wall just beyond Aifric’s head. The chanting stopped immediately as Byron strode down the aisle, followed by Jamie and Angus.
‘What the fuck is going on here?’
Aifric recovered from his shock in record time. ‘Byron! You’re supposed to be getting ready for your wedding.’
With his kilt swinging angrily from side to side and a crisp white shirt open at the neck, Byron marched up to his father until they were barely inches apart. ‘What are you doing?’
If Aifric was concerned about his son’s anger, he didn’t show it. ‘I didn’t want to interrupt your preparations,’ he said calmly. ‘You shouldn’t be worrying about all this.’ I could see the cogs turning in his mind; he realised the situation was slipping away from him and he needed to bring it back under control. I held my breath. What was he going to do?
I jerked forward to try and warn Byron but Aifric’s arm shot out and held me in place. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, my son has always had a soft spot for Integrity. It would hurt him immeasurably to know of her crimes—’
‘She hasn’t committed any crimes,’ Byron snarled. ‘The only criminal here is you.’
A loud gasp reverberated around the room. Aifric’s hand went to his mouth. ‘Has she bewitched you? Son…’
Byron stepped away and glanced at me. The harsh light in his eyes softened for a heartbeat and then he re-focused and pointed at his father before addressing the congregation. ‘Aifric Moncrieffe, the Steward of the Highlands and my father, killed Gale and Coira Adair and destroyed the Adair Clan.’ Two old biddies in the second row clutched each other but everyone else seemed frozen. ‘On several occasions he tried to murder Integrity Adair. Jamie’s psychometry Gift will prove it. My father has plotted against all of us.’ Byron held up the letter we’d discovered in the Fomori demon’s pocket. ‘This is a petition for peace from the Fomori demons. The three who brought it died at his hands.’ He met his father’s eyes. ‘The only danger to the Highlands is you.’ He gestured at Molly. ‘Am I telling the truth?’
She squeaked and nodded. Aifric, however, merely tutted. ‘You think you’re telling the truth because this woman has manipulated you into believing her. We have proved that she is the evil one, not me. All of these people will back me up. In fact, even Integrity will back me up.’
From the corner of my eye, I saw Bob high above the heads of the stunned Sidhe. He was flapping his arms wildly in a panic. My stomach dropped. What now?
Byron exploded. ‘Bullshit!’
Aifric drew back and gestured upwards. I saw Taylor on the balcony above us, propped up between two burly goons. His shirt was soaked in blood and I wasn’t sure he was conscious. Byron, realising something was amiss, followed my gaze but Taylor and the two guards had already vanished. At the same time as Byron looked up, Aifric opened his palm, flashing a concealed blade. It wasn’t me he was threatening, however, it was his own son.
The magic that prevented me from speaking was lifted abruptly. ‘Speak, Integrity.’ I didn’t need to hear the warning tone in Aifric’s voice to know what would happen if I didn’t say what he wanted.
Rage spread through me, burning my body with more force than Byron’s Pyrokinesis ever could and I trembled with the potential for violence. There wasn’t anything Aifric wouldn’t do to get his own way; he’d slaughter his own son right here in front of just about every Sidhe in Scotland if that was what it took.
‘I’m the only thing keeping the Fomori demons at arm’s length,’ Aifric muttered. ‘Without me they would swarm across this country and destroy us all. This isn’t just about you and me. This is much, much bigger. Do the right thing.’
I sucked in a deep breath. Everything fell away and the large Sidhe congregation no longer existed. The walls of the church were nothing and even Byron ceased to exist. All I could hear was the thumping of my heart and all I could see was the intelligent evil glittering from Aifric’s soul. That and the three strands of magic swirling inside him: Pyrokinesis, like Byron, Dowsing and Healing. I blinked and looked away.
Byron said something to me but it seemed as if it were from a long way off. I shook myself and focused on the rest of the Sidhe. Perhaps it was a result of the brute force of my anger; whatever the reason, I could now see all their Gifts too. Levitation here. Precognition there. With a clarity that I wouldn’t have previously thought was possible, I could tell from looking at them what magic each person possessed. I stared at the man whose Gift was the ability to control another’s body against their will. My eyes narrowed and I reached inside him and yanked it away, dragging it into myself and taking it all. I staggered back. The man let out a terrified scream and collapsed.
The sound was all it took to galvanise the Sidhe into action. Several yelled and surged forward once more. Aifric couldn’t stop them this time and he probably didn’t want to. All the same, he grabbed Byron and pulled him backwards. ‘That was you,’ he hissed in a low voice so others wouldn’t hear. ‘You burned down our own house. It wasn’t an accident after all. You have betrayed me.’
‘No, Father,’ Byron replied. ‘You have betrayed Scotland.’
Aifric threw out his arms, sending out plumes of fire across the church. ‘Byron, no!’ he yelled, immediately blaming his son for his own actions. ‘Don’t hurt these people!’
As I dodged a spark of lightning from a seething Fairlie Sidhe, the walls caught fire. All around us people shouted, pushing past one another in a bid to get to the door. A few with water-based Gifts tried to douse the fire but it had caught too quickly. The whole structure was doomed. The people around us screamed, scattered, stampeding towards the door to escape the flames.
‘I killed my best friend and his entire Clan,’ Aifric said, speaking the truth for the first time. ‘Don’t think I’ll hesitate to kill my own son too if you continue to get in my way.’ Molly Kincaid’s mouth dropped open. She’d heard his words and, unaware he’d been overheard, this time he wasn’t masking his meaning.
I lunged forward, shoving her away to get her as far from Aifric as possible before he realised his error. ‘Get out of here!’ She turned and ran, only to be replaced by three Sidhe who were less afraid of the fire than the others. They came at me, their enraged and contorted faces obscured by the now billowing black smoke. ‘You’re not going to murder anyone else, bitch!’
Byron spun towards them and used Telekinesis to push them away before they could do any harm. As he turned his back, Aifric lunged for him. Most of the Sidhe wouldn�
��t believe a word that came out of my mouth but Byron was a different matter and that made him a more dangerous opponent for Aifric.
I didn’t waste any time ‒ I needed this Gift anyway. I squeezed my eyes shut and reached out, separating Aifric’s magic until I had what I needed. I snatched at the first strand and drew it away. Aifric gasped, feeling its absence. I ignored him and kept pulling. I needed it all. Aifric’s knees buckled and he collapsed.
It was difficult to tell through the thick, choking smoke but it seemed as if everyone else had managed to escape.
‘Integrity!’ Byron yelled. ‘We have to get out of here!’
That was stating the obvious. I tugged at Aifric’s body. ‘Help me.’
‘Just leave him.’
I wiped my streaming eyes with the back of my hand. ‘No. We’re not murderers.’ And, I added silently, he’s still your father. You’ll never recover if you do this.
I couldn’t see Byron’s expression but a moment later he was lifting his father and throwing him into a fireman’s lift over his shoulder. Then, with his free hand, he grabbed mine and began to run, ploughing through the church and out to safety.
The bright morning seemed incongruous compared to the hell we’d left behind. Most of the others seemed to have moved a safe distance away. A few were still trying to put out the fire. There were still some pained grimaces in my direction.
A roar came from behind some small houses to the left and Candy appeared, carrying massive bundle of white fabric. It took me a moment to register that it was Tipsania. He bounded towards us, Brochan hot on his heels.
‘Bob!’ I yelled. ‘Show them where the boat is!’ There was a flash of blinding light and Bob appeared, bowing grandly in front of my face before taking off with the merman, the Wild Man and what could have been Little Bo Peep in his wake.
Byron lay his father on the ground. Aifric coughed, spluttered and rolled over to one side. I watched him for a brief moment; he’d be alright. ‘Taylor!’ I yelled, bending down and getting into his face. ‘Where is Taylor?’
