Now the words were out; now it was real; now I could no longer hope or pretend. In that moment our minds collided again. The stench of vomit edged into my nostrils and there was an image in my head, a brown eye meeting mine, unblinking, dry as dust. With a sharp breath, I wrenched my brain clear of his.
‘Jed.’ Conal reached out a hand to him, but he slapped it away.
‘She thought I was dead!’ yelled Jed. ‘She thought I’d been abducted or murdered or drowned in a ditch or something. She thought it was her fault! You see? You play your stupid time games and muck around with your stupid Veil and you see what happens? She thought I was dead.’ He clawed at his skull. ‘She was off her head anyway and you knew it. You sent her so far off it she forgot to stay alive.’ He clenched his teeth against the tide of grief.
The others stared as if it was Jed who was mad. All except Conal, who couldn’t look at him at all. I had to do something, and now, because I should have seen this coming. I should have seen it coming for so long, and in so many ways. I gripped Jed’s arm.
‘Listen to me, Cuilean. This was always going to happen to your mother.’
Jed ground his teeth, trying to pull away. ‘What would you know, shitface?’
‘It’s you that doesn’t know.’ I kept my voice free of kindness; if it had been me, I couldn’t have stood it. ‘You have no idea. You’re seventeen years old. Barely whelped.’
‘Seth.’ Conal’s voice was too tired to be a threat. ‘Nach ist thu. Be quiet now.’
‘Keep out of it, big man. I was younger than him when I watched our father die on Alasdair Kilrevin’s sword. Did I throw a tantrum? I kept my mouth shut and my head down because if I hadn’t I’d be dead too.’
‘Murlainn.’ There was a warning in Eili’s voice, and sudden pity. ‘Leave the boy alone.’
‘You don’t know anything,’ Jed spat at me.
‘Oh come off it. It’s been pretty much uppermost in your mind. In case you didn’t know.’ A good enough excuse, I reckoned.
‘Take no notice, Cuilean.’ Sionnach glared at me. ‘It’s centuries since he was your age, not that you’d know it sometimes.’ Quietly he added, ‘Leave him, Murlainn.’
‘She was an addict. Wasn’t she? They’d have taken you off her in the end. At least she got to die a mother.’
‘I hate you, MacGregor. You and your smug brother.’
‘Yeah. You know I’m right, though.’
‘My mum didn’t die of drugs. She died of you lot.’ Jed trembled with grief. ‘And me.’
Torc clambered to his feet and put Rory into Jed’s arms, then paused and gave Jed one of his rib-cracker hugs.
‘Your mother didn’t die of anyone but Skinshanks,’ I said.
‘What—’
‘The dealer. That thing always enjoyed its work. Certainly enjoyed your mother.’
‘You get out of my head!’ he screamed.
It hardly seemed the moment to tell him I had no need to be in it.
‘Okay.’
‘Magic tricks. You think it’s clever?’
‘Not magic,’ broke in Eili. ‘Magic is for witches. We use our brains.’
‘We need to use them more,’ muttered Conal.
‘You need some sleep, Cù Chaorach.’ Eili gave him a smile, but he didn’t return it.
‘You and your stupid Veil,’ Jed spat. ‘You know what? This is a ghetto. There’s a real world out there where real people live.’
‘And die in pools of vomit,’ I pointed out.
Jed turned on me a look so filled with malice that I took a step backward. Gripping Rory tight against him, he turned on his heel and strode off into the trees.
‘Leave him. I said leave him!’ Conal’s bark was angry and clear enough for Jed to hear, then the woods thickened and closed in around him and all was silence.
He stumbled on until the glow of the fire faded altogether. To his right he could hear the gurgle of a burn as he scrambled uphill, and in his angry haste he was dislodging rocks underfoot. He didn’t want to fall, not with Rory in his arms. Slowing, trying to control his harsh breathing, he edged away from the water. The darkness was absolute under the canopy of branches, but he clambered on up till he felt the ground level out.
He wanted to be far from them, as far as he could go. He hated the sight of the lot of them; they didn’t care. He might vanish as easily and completely as Finn had, but Conal hadn’t even enough remorse to send someone after him. Not that he wanted to be followed. No.
Hitching Rory up, Jed came to an uncertain halt. In the utter blackness he tuned in reluctantly to the sounds of the night, sounds that grew louder the longer he stood. Rustling. Cracking twigs.
Proper physical fear began to chill him.
Oh, God. Eventually he’d have to go back to them, if they didn’t slink into the night and leave him and Rory to whatever fate caught up with them. He wouldn’t put it past them, given that Seth didn’t give a damn, and Conal couldn’t even face him.
In the darkness below him a shadow was moving among shadows, a sound was detaching itself from the other night sounds. He froze, staring. Whatever it was, he’d rather see it. But though his stomach churned, the deadening instinctive terror wasn’t there. It might be someone to hate and fear, but it wasn’t a Lammyr.
Part of the darkness paled to a grey distinct shape. Yellow eyes glowed ghostly, but there was no aggression in that languid approach. Conal’s wolf materialised from shadow, padded up to him and licked his hand.
‘Liath.’ His voice trembled.
Her pale coat seemed to attract any light that was going, so that the wood didn’t seem so dark any more. Exhaustion overwhelmed him and he sat down suddenly, the tiredness a weight on the back of his neck. Liath lay down too, her big body curling around his, and Rory’s hand moved convulsively in his sleep, clutching a handful of her fur.
Jed lay unmoving, listening to heartbeats and night sounds while the wolf’s warmth seeped into them, and let himself wallow in pity for Rory, for his mother, for himself. Softly growling, Liath washed his cheeks with her tongue. Jed nestled Rory between his body and her soft belly, putting his arm around the sleeping child and reaching for the wolf.
She could eat them in the morning as far as he cared. That was how grateful he was for her bulk and her warmth, her beating heart against his palm, and simply her company. His fingers laced into her fur, clutching as tightly as Rory’s, till he fell into a dreamless sleep.
High hysterical laughter woke him. Jed’s eyes opened straight from sleep to a misty dawn, disorienting him. His fingers were still stiffly entwined in Liath’s coat, but as he flexed them loose he felt horrible emptiness beneath his arm.
‘Rory,’ he mumbled. He barked it again, hoarsely. ‘Rory!’
The laughter came once more, not a dream after all but Rory’s high-pitched gurgling giggle. Sick relief swept him as he pushed himself up and away from the wolf, dizzy from the clinging sleep. The trees seemed sparser than they had last night, and strips of distant hills and sea were visible between the furthest trunks. Rory was running through toddler-thigh-high blaeberry scrub, falling on his face in it and clambering up again, shrieking with sheer delight. He tripped forward into waiting arms and was swung in a circle.
Jed’s stomach clenched with fury and he staggered to his feet. ‘Put him down!’
Conal’s laughter died as he turned. ‘Sorry. Tried to be quiet. We got carried away.’ He winced as Rory grabbed his cheeks and wrenched with all his baby strength. ‘Ow.’
‘Who’s we? There is no we. That’s my brother. I said put him down.’
Conal obeyed, prompting a furious yell from Rory. ‘I wouldn’t hurt him, Jed.’
‘Oh, sure. Not intentionally.’ Jed opened his arms for Rory, but the boy screamed with rage. Turning his back on Jed he reached up, straining for Conal with all his small being.
The first tiny dagger of many lodged in Jed’s heart. With an apologetic look, Conal passed Rory to him, and a little grumpily,
Rory hooked his arms around Jed’s neck.
‘Faithless brat.’ Jed hugged him as Rory gave him a wet inexpert kiss. ‘Let’s find some breakfast.’ Gloomily he looked around at the undergrowth, where a few wizened blaeberries clung on among the tiny dark leaves.
‘Does he eat rabbit?’ Diffidently Conal held out a metal tin. ‘I don’t know much about babies.’
‘You don’t know anything.’
‘No.’ Conal looked so humble that Jed’s anger almost wavered. There were livid marks on the man’s neck, turning to ugly blotches of black and yellow.
Reaching out, Jed took the tin and let Rory seize fistfuls of meat. Liath stretched and padded over to Conal, put her muzzle in his palm and lay down at his side.
Staying angry was harder than Jed had expected, and he couldn’t concentrate on nursing his wrath for the hunger that bit at his own stomach. ‘As for this.’ Jed’s face twisted in disgust as he pulled Rory’s nappy away from his backside and sniffed. ‘Toilet training for you. Like today.’
‘You hungry yourself? Cos I’ve got this,’ said Conal, rummaging in the leather jacket that lay crumpled beside Liath.
It was stale supermarket bread, but the hunks of venison stuffed between the slices were very fresh and still warm, if slightly bloody. Hunger overcame Jed’s reluctance, and he grabbed it. He’d planned to eat standing up, till Liath gave a commanding gruff, and Jed found himself dropping like an obedient pup to sit against her next to Conal.
Conal was quiet, studying a ragged fingernail. At last he bit it. ‘I’m sorry. I really am.’
Jed stared at the remnants of his sandwich, appetite gone. ‘I don’t want your apology, do I? What am I meant to do with it?’
‘No. Well, it’s there if you ever do want it.’ Taking the fingernail between his teeth, Conal ripped it across. ‘Ow.’
Jed shook his head. ‘You’re how old? And you still bite your nails?’
‘What I mean is, I’m sorry it happened.’ Conal’s words spilled out awkwardly. ‘I’m sorry she’s dead. She didn’t deserve it.’
‘You wouldn’t know if she deserved it or not. Would you? You never knew her.’ Jed held out his hands to Rory, who was rubbing his eyes again.
Conal drew his hunting knife and took the tip of it to his ragged nail, but only succeeded in nicking his forefinger. Hissing, he sucked the blood off it.
Jed stroked Rory’s temple with his thumb. ‘I’m waiting, by the way.’
‘What for?’ Conal was still sucking in annoyance at the cut.
‘You could make me forget, couldn’t you?’ snapped Jed. ‘Forget she’s even dead.’ His eyes were hot and stinging.
‘I wouldn’t do that to you.’ There was new shock in Conal’s voice, as well as irritation.
‘No, you’re a saint. Wouldn’t hurt a feckin’ fly.’
‘Fine,’ spat Conal. ‘Listen, you complicate my life right now. You could give me some credit for not slitting your inconvenient throat.’
‘Ha,’ said Jed contemptuously.
‘Meaning what?’
‘Well, you could always try and sound scary.’
Conal took an offended breath. ‘So I’m not so bad then? I wouldn’t kill you and I wouldn’t play about with your head. Okay? I don’t like to do it. I almost never do it. Satisfied?’
Jed glowered at the trees.
Conal wiped the knife on a soft rag and sheathed it. ‘Excuse my temper.’ He rubbed his temples. ‘It’s my mother I’m angry at. If she wasn’t dead already I’d kill her.’
‘You’re pretty irrational for an old bastard.’ Jed felt irrational that way himself, though, so the words got caught on the tears in his throat. He bit the inside of his lip, furious.
‘Yeah.’ Conal put an arm round his shoulder, and Jed let himself be pulled against him. Conal wore a soft dark blue jumper that smelt of horse, and Jed pressed his face into the hollow beneath his shoulder. The arm tightened round him and he huddled into Conal’s embrace, shivering. With his own arms around Rory there was no other way to cover his eyes and save face.
With luck, it would pass for exhaustion and cold. Conal might never notice the tears soaking into his jumper, so long as he ignored the occasional silent but convulsive sob. Which, to give him credit, he seemed willing to do, even when the sobs grew louder and the hiccupping more violent. He was prepared to pretend not to hear Jed weeping for a very long time, and for that, Jed thought, he could forgive Conal pretty much anything.
If there was any kind of advantage to this screw-up, at least Conal had no choice now but to go to the dun. He could hardly go chasing armed horsemen around the countryside with a boy and a baby in tow. I had a bad feeling about Finn’s fate, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if she was dead already, but the only option was to regroup. However long that took.
I climbed the slope to where the trees thinned out, using the pretext of dunking my sword in a running burn again. Eili was up there on guard, and she had forbidden anyone to follow, and she glowered at me as I ducked under a stunted alder and rinsed the blade – no harm in making sure, though the blade felt strong enough – but even she must know it was time to get moving again. Reluctantly she nodded at the haphazard pile of humanity under one of the pines, and even smiled a little. Her fingers were wound into Liath’s white mane.
I grinned, feeling almost paternally indulgent. Jed had a great wet patch on his jumper; the infant had peed on him and slept beatifically on in soaking miniature jeans, sprawled half across Jed’s chest and half across Conal. Jed was cushioned against Conal’s shoulder. Conal definitely had the worst of it, nothing between him and the peaty earth but flattened blaeberry bushes. All the same he was deeply asleep, his breath barely stirring.
Jed woke as I watched. He risked a slight turn of his head, wrinkled his nose at his piss-covered clothes, and saw me.
I said, ‘Did you and my brother make it up, then?’
He made a face. ‘I suppose.’
‘Good,’ murmured Eili, with the sweetest of her smiles. ‘Because if you try to throttle him again I’ll kill you.’
‘They planned for that warp in the time,’ I told him.
‘True. Your mother was doomed. Nothing anyone could have done, not even Conal. It wasn’t his fault.’
‘Whatever,’ Jed whispered fiercely. ‘That’s between me and him.’
‘All right, Cuilean.’ Eili averted her eyes, her pride wounded, and perhaps her sense of possession too.
‘And by the way, what’s wrong with my actual name?’
‘Oh. Wouldn’t feel...’ Drawing one of her swords, Eili took a whetstone from her pocket and smoothed it lovingly along the blade. ‘You know. Polite.’
‘You’d hate me to call you Jed to your face,’ I pointed out. ‘Like we know each other or something.’
He gave me a startled look.
Eili tutted at me. ‘Who rattled your cage, Murlainn? And don’t you like your Sithe name, Cuilean? It suits you. Anyway, you’re stuck with it.’
‘Puppy,’ he spat in disgust. ‘Torc says it means puppy.’
‘Young Dog,’ she said kindly. She turned the blade in the pale light, examining the edge. ‘I suppose we should wake the others, hm?’
As if he’d heard her, the infant stirred from his sleep and squalled. Jed pulled him to his chest, hushing him, but Conal started awake and sat up.
Jed eased out of Conal’s arms. Conal stared at him, and then at me, and then at Eili.
‘Morning, Cù Chaorach.’ Eili kissed him languidly on the mouth.
Conal pushed her away and got to his feet. ‘I fell asleep,’ he said in disbelief.
‘Not before time,’ said Eili, sheathing her sharpened sword. ‘Don’t worry, we kept watch.’
He tilted his head to the sky. ‘It’s late. Eili.’
‘You needed to sleep.’ Eili looked self-righteous.
Conal looked for a moment as if he wanted to strike her, but she met his stare coolly, and in the end it was Conal who avert
ed his eyes. His focus fell on Jed, who was pulling off Rory’s wet jeans and making him pee again into the heather.
‘We’ve lost another day!’ Conal sounded frantic.
‘And there’s nothing we can do, and you know it,’ I said. ‘We can go to Kilchoran bothy.’
‘Seth’s right. Break the journey there. It’s fine, perfectly secure, and then we can get to the dun fast tomorrow. There’s nothing we can do for the girl by ourselves. And frankly, you’ll think straighter with some sleep under your belt.’
Conal’s jaw clenched as he turned to sweep up Rory and settle him on his shoulders. His tightened lips formed the word ‘Women,’ and I snorted.
Conal put his hand on the back of Jed’s head and shook it lightly. ‘If you stay with us I promise I’ll look after you both. Even if you don’t think that’s worth much just now. Okay?’
Jed nodded, not looking at him. ‘Fine.’
‘You trust him?’ I asked. ‘Because I suggest you do.’
‘Yeah, whatever.’
‘No. Trust him. I mean it.’
‘I trust him, okay?’ He set his face hard as he followed Conal.
Conal slung the infant down from his shoulders as soon as we got back to the others, and it instantly made a beeline for Sionnach, clambering onto his back where he crouched. Sionnach grinned and tumbled him off head over heels, but the child took no offence, shinning quickly back up onto his lithe shoulders.
‘So what kept you?’ asked Sionnach.
‘Three hours’ sleep,’ said Eili in a self-satisfied voice.
‘Three hours,’ Conal echoed angrily. As if in small revenge it was Eili’s pack he went to, helping himself to her spare jumper and tugging it over the baby’s head. The soft blue jersey reached to the ground and then some, making him look like a small happy ghost. The boy giggled and grabbed for Conal’s jaw again, eyes widening as he clutched the dark blond stubble.
Conal smiled at him. ‘Rory, lad, I know. I’m dying for a shave and now I haven’t got time.’ He perched the infant on the black’s withers, swung easily up behind him, then reached down for Jed. ‘Where’s Gocaman?’
Bloodstone: 2 (Rebel Angels) Page 17
