by Helen Harper
‘Okay,’ I conceded. I still didn’t understand why the Carnegies were so keen to take this hairy monstrosity to the seat of Sidhe power but I certainly wasn’t going to steal her from them. My pager buzzed again. ‘I have to go.’
Jimmy shrugged. ‘Okay. Tell that dry-footed freak I said hi.’
I backed away, keeping my eyes on Debbie the entire time. She’d already dismissed me but I wasn’t about to turn my back on her – cage or no cage. ‘Will do.’ As soon as I reached the stairs, I turned and ran out of there like hell itself was on my heels.
*
I made it to the mountain rescue centre with seconds to spare. Travis, the gruff leader of our rescue team, shot me a look as I jogged up.
I checked my watch. Any rescuers on call had to show up within thirty minutes of their pagers sounding otherwise the team would leave without them. ‘Sorry,’ I called. I was within the limit – just – but it was clear the others had been waiting for me.
Travis merely nodded. If I’d been anyone else, he’d probably have chewed them out for taking so long to appear but he was too nervous of me to say anything to my face. Much as he appreciated my skills in picking up the injured and foolish from the surrounding mountains, he still found it hard to accept that he was working alongside a Sidhe. I had the impression that he was expecting me to demand everyone’s fealty at any moment. It didn’t matter that I’d explained a million times that I was Clan-less. In fact, when I said I was Clan-less because my father had been the Chieftain of Clan Adair, things got worse. Considering the world believed that my father had committed genocide against his own people and destroyed Clan Adair in one single afternoon over twenty-five years ago, that wasn’t hugely surprising.
I’d also believed those stories until recently. I still wasn’t sure what had happened to my parents but a vision I’d received in the sacred grove at the Cruaich told me that my father wasn’t the murderer everyone thought he was. And I was betting that Aifric Moncrieffe had something to do with it. After all, the Sidhe Steward had tried to kill me by handing me a bottle of water laced with poison. That’d make even a damn sheep suspicious.
‘No problem,’ Travis grunted.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said again.
He waved his hand as if it didn’t matter. It’d be nice if he stopped tiptoeing round me; I wasn’t anything special and I wished he understood that.
Words wouldn’t help me though so I offered him a shiny smile before turning my back and hopping into the helicopter. The others – a brother and sister team of humans called Tim and Tam, and Isla, a Nicnevan witch attached to the Polwarth Clan, gave me a more enthusiastic greeting.
‘Hey, Tegs. Travis giving you a hard time?’
‘If only,’ I said cheerfully, shrugging into my gear as the helicopter took off. Of course, it was all hot pink; I was rather passionate about that colour. As long as I could be identified against the winter snow and ice, the colours I chose to wear were up to me. Unfortunately I’d not had much success in persuading everyone else to don hot pink as well. That was a shame, it would rather suit Travis.
‘So what’s the deal?’ I asked, shouting over the noise of the rotors.
‘Husband and wife team,’ Tam yelled back. ‘Went out this morning to Aladdin’s Mirror and were supposed to check back in after midday.’
I tied back my hair, tucking it safely out of the way, and frowned. It was already four o’clock and at this time of year, it’d be dark within the hour. Four hours might not sound like a long time to go missing but in the Scottish Highlands in the depths of winter, it could be a lifetime. Or two.
‘Everyone goes to the Mirror,’ Isla said, rolling her eyes.
She had a point; this would be my fourth rescue there this year. Considering the Mirror was little more than a wall of ice, I didn’t understand the attraction. I reckoned it was the allure of the name as much as anything else. Names, as every Sidhe knew, had power. Aladdin’s Mirror did indeed sound rather mystical. It wasn’t; it was just a wall of frozen water that claimed far more broken bones and call-outs than should be allowed.
I was the newbie on the team but after four months I had a pretty good handle on how things worked. While I couldn’t ever imagine this job becoming mundane, the longer I spent at it, the more confident I grew. I knew what to expect.
The helicopter couldn’t fly directly to the Mirror so it put us lower down Coire an t’Sneachda. Try saying that ten times in a row; I might be getting better at these rescues but my tongue still fumbled with the different pronunciations of the locations.
Isla threw me an arch look. ‘Where are we going, Integrity?’
I stuck my tongue out at her and she laughed. I tried to concentrate. I could always get the first part right but stumbled at the end when the spelling had virtually no bearing on the way the name was pronounced. ‘Um, Kor In Tray…’
‘Korin Tray Achk.’
I repeated it under my breath. It wouldn’t matter; next time we made it up here, I’d have forgotten again. Gaelic just wasn’t my thing. Whatever ‒ I couldn’t be brilliant at everything.
The sky was already darkening when we jumped out. It was the time of year when you’d miss sunset if you blinked: one minute it was day and the next it was as if someone had flipped a switch and night had descended, even though it still wasn’t teatime. Travis frowned upwards, clearly unhappy at Mother Nature. The wind was picking up, sending tiny particles of ice and snow flying against our bare faces. It wasn’t just in heists that balaclavas were useful. I pulled mine over my head while the others did the same. Before my eyelashes could freeze, I yanked down my goggles. Thank goodness for hardy climbing equipment.
Once we were ready, Travis held up his index finger and circled it in the air. We all nodded. We knew what to do.
Travis led the way. As the greenie, I was directly behind him carrying the first-aid equipment. Tim and Tam followed behind with the stretchers, while Isla took up the rear. It was slow going. Even with our state-of-the-art gear, there was only so fast we could move when we were laden with stuff and walking on an uphill ice-skating rink. For a long time all that could be heard were our combined breaths and the crunch of snow beneath our feet. I was as fit as anyone and I was already sweating under my layers of clothing. I kept my head down. With visibility almost at zero, there was no point in looking at anything other than my feet. That was why I spotted the tracks.
I reached out and tapped Travis on the shoulder, causing him to halt. He turned, followed my finger and glanced down. The falling snow would cover them within minutes but there was no mistaking what was there. I had never seen signs of animal life this far up the mountain; at this time of year any beast smart enough to survive was much further down the slopes. From what I could tell, this brave creature had three legs ‒ something else which didn’t make sense.
Travis frowned, crouched down and lightly touched them. They weren’t large: each paw print was less than an inch in diameter. At least that was something: if a mountain beast was watching us from behind a snow-covered rock, it would be unlikely to attack five people who were a hundred times its size.
‘What are the tracks from?’ I asked.
Tim peered over my shoulder. ‘Bird?’
‘With three legs?’
He shrugged. ‘Maybe its tail is broken and it’s dangling down in the snow as it walks.’
We shared a glance. It was a nice theory but it was clearly wrong. This was no bird – but at least I was sure it wasn’t a damned giant spider either.
Travis straightened. ‘Whatever it is, we don’t have time to worry about it.’
There was the sudden, unmistakable sound of a flare being set off further up. It rocketed into the dark sky, a plume of red shooting a path of pain.
‘Well,’ Tim murmured, ‘one of them is still alive.’
We picked up our pace. Travis began jogging and the rest of us fell into line after him. As we rounded the last craggy outcrop, Aladdin’s Mirror loomed in front
of us. With the sky as dark as it was, it was difficult to see much of it but we weren’t here for sightseeing ‒ the whimper from the foot of the Mirror confirmed that.
Travis strode forward. He was almost as sure-footed as a fey Sidhe. He reached a shadowy lump just ahead of us and dropped to his knees. ‘My name is Travis,’ he said calmly, in a manner designed to put injured climbers at ease. ‘Are you Maggie?’
‘Y–yes. Maggie Moncrieffe.’
I stiffened. No-one had mentioned that we were here to rescue a Sidhe, let alone one from Aifric and Byron’s Clan. At the thought of Byron Moncrieffe, Aifric’s son, my stomach tightened. I pushed away the image of golden boy’s handsome face which had popped unprompted into my head. It didn’t matter who these people were; they still needed rescuing.
Tim and Tam pushed past me, already assembling the stretcher.
‘You alright?’ Isla asked me.
I shook myself. ‘Fine,’ I muttered.
Travis ran his hands over Maggie’s body. ‘Where does it hurt?’
‘My ankle,’ she gasped. ‘I think it’s broken.’ She yelped as his fingers touched it gently.
‘Okay,’ Travis soothed. ‘Don’t worry. We’re going to get you onto the stretcher and down from here. You’ll be back home in no time.’
That was all very well but she was alone. I hooked my backpack off my shoulder, pulled out a splint and bandages and glanced at Isla. ‘Isn’t there a husband?’
She nodded. I knelt down beside Travis and started binding Maggie’s ankle so that she could make the journey back down without further damage. ‘Maggie,’ I said softly, ‘where’s your husband?’
She moaned in pain. As her pupils were dilated and she was clearly drifting into unconsciousness, I had the uncomfortable feeling that she was suffering from far more than a broken bone. I reached for Travis and gripped his forearm, jerking my chin at her. He gave me a grim look of acknowledgement. We had to get her to a hospital fast.
‘Maggie,’ I said again. ‘I need you to look at me. Where’s your husband? He was here with you.’
Her pulse fluttered rapidly in her neck and her skin was hot to the touch but she was as tough as the other Moncrieffes I knew. Her eyes met mine and she managed a weak whisper. ‘He went for help.’
Shite. We’d not passed any tracks other than those belonging to the strange, unidentified animal. He must have wandered off in the wrong direction. It didn’t matter how often we instructed hikers and climbers to stay together when there was a problem; someone always thought they knew better.
‘What’s his Gift?’ I asked. If he were Sidhe he might be able to call up magic which would help him survive, otherwise he might well be lost for good. Unfortunately Maggie had given us all she could; she’d already closed her eyes.
I stood up. ‘You need to get her to a hospital now. She’s probably bleeding internally from the fall.’ I looked up at the sheer ice wall of Aladdin’s Mirror. If I squinted, I could make out an ice pick buried about twenty feet up. There weren’t any ropes, though. No wonder she’d landed so badly. Daft bint.
Travis nodded. While Tim and Tam carefully laid her onto the stretcher, he pressed a button on his walkie-talkie and called the helicopter to arrange the rendezvous.
‘There,’ Isla said, pointing to our right. ‘There are footsteps.’
The continuing snow flurries were already starting to cover them. ‘I’ll go after him,’ I said.
‘You can’t go on your own, it’s too dangerous.’
Travis looked at the pair of us. ‘You’ve got fifteen minutes. It’ll take us longer to get back down to the landing point anyway.’
I licked my lips; they were already dry and cracked. ‘And if we don’t find him?’
‘Then we’ll take Maggie to the town and come back later.’
I nodded, although that didn’t sound like a brilliant plan. Judging by the state of the weather, things weren’t going to improve any time soon. I was no snow expert but I could tell that the wind was getting stronger. Dangerously so. If this got much worse, the helicopter wouldn’t be able to fly, let alone drop us back here. I caught a look in Travis’s eye before he turned away; he knew it too. If we didn’t find Maggie’s husband and get him to the helicopter soon, we’d be forced to abandon him for the night. And he probably wouldn’t make it if that happened.
‘We’d better get a move on,’ Isla murmured.
‘Fifteen minutes,’ Travis repeated. ‘I mean it. This isn’t the night for silly heroics.’ He looked at me as he said those last words. That wasn’t entirely fair; I’d followed his instructions and commands to the letter over the last four months. Still, I nodded in acknowledgment and Isla and I took off.
The footsteps were close together, suggesting that Maggie’s husband had been moving slowly. That was good, it meant we had a better shot of catching up to him. I followed Isla’s lead, keeping my own steps light and brisk. I counted silently in my head to keep track of the time. Realistically we couldn’t follow his trail for more than eight or nine minutes before we’d have to return.
Time was not our friend and neither was the Coire an t’Sneachda. Even with the crampons I was wearing, my feet struggled to find purchase. Isla wasn’t much better and we slipped and slid our way along. As more of the snow gave way to hard ice, the trail disappeared until we were surrounded by howling winds, lethal rocks and very little else.
‘Which way?’ I shouted to make my voice heard above the growing gale.
Isla looked around. ‘I don’t know. We have to go back. He could be anywhere, he could be miles anyway.’
Bugger it. Moncrieffe or not, we weren’t going to leave him if I could help it. I unzipped the pocket on my thigh. There was always Bob, the genie who’d saddled himself to my side.
Before I could pull out the scimitar – or rather letter opener as it actually was – the wind changed direction abruptly. Unprepared as I was, it yanked me off my feet, flinging me to the ground. I yelled in frustration and tried to pull myself to my feet. As I did, I caught sight of the crevasse to my left.
I rolled over and peered down. There, wedged against another snow-covered rock, was a body. I couldn’t tell from here whether he was alive or dead but he certainly wasn’t moving.
‘Isla!’
She understood immediately and joined me at the rim of the crevasse. ‘Arse,’ she muttered. ‘He’s too far down.’
‘We can get him.’
‘Not without going in after him.’
‘Grab my feet.’
I couldn’t see Isla’s face because of her balaclava and goggles but I knew what her expression would be. I gave her a nudge. She muttered another curse and hunkered down as I unwound the rope I always carried on these rescues. ‘How much time do we have?’
‘Not enough.’
I gritted my teeth; I’d just have to work faster. Isla’s hands curled round my ankles and I stretched out. At least the crevasse provided some shelter from the wind that was whipping around us. I pushed my body out as far as I could. My gloves made my fingers clumsy but I managed to snake the end of the rope round the body, tying a knot to hold it in place.
‘Integrity!’ I heard Isla scream. ‘I can’t hold on for much longer.’
‘I’ve just about got him,’ I shouted back. I checked the knot. It would hold. Hopefully. ‘Okay, pull me up.’
Isla wasted no time. She heaved and pulled until, slowly, I returned to safer ground. She must have been exhausted but she still took the other end of the rope and, with both of us using all our strength, we jerked it backwards. My feet slipped on the ice but I managed not to fall. Inch by inch, we strained to bring him up. When he was almost at the lip, Isla tapped my shoulder and I nodded, darting forward to pull him up the rest of the way.
‘You’d better be alive, buster,’ I told him, as I rolled his body to safety and checked for vital signs. I leaned towards his face, peeling up my balaclava until I could feel warm breath on my cheek. He was still with us ‒ for n
ow at least.
‘We’re out of time, Integrity,’ Isla said urgently. ‘We have to go.’
‘Then let’s get out of here,’ I told her with a dark grin.
Pre-order Honour Bound here
Author’s Note
Although Scottish Gaelic and Irish Gaelic are very similar, many of the spellings are different. Technically, the Scottish version of Sidhe (pronounced ‘she’) is spelled Sith but to avoid inevitable comparisons with Star Wars characters, I’ve taken some poetic liberty in using the Irish version.
About the Author
After teaching English literature in the UK, Japan and Malaysia, Helen Harper left behind the world of education following the worldwide success of her Blood Destiny series of books. She is a professional member of the Alliance of Independent Authors and writes full time although she still fits in creative writing workshops with schools along with volunteering to teach reading to a group of young Myanmar refugees. That’s not to mention the procession of stray cats which seem to find their way to her door!
Helen has always been a book lover, devouring science fiction and fantasy tales when she was a child growing up in Scotland.
Helen currently lives in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia with far too many cats – not to mention the dragons, fairies, demons, wizards and vampires that seem to keep appearing from nowhere.
Other titles by Helen Harper
The Blood Destiny series
Bloodfire
Bloodmagic
Bloodrage
Blood Politics
Bloodlust
Blood Destiny Box Set (The complete series: Books 1 – 5)
Also
- Corrigan Fire
- Corrigan Magic
- Corrigan Rage
