by Helen Harper
She didn’t blink. The woman was like a damn lizard. ‘And, strangely, I believe you won’t. But you did present me with a gold ring which was found near my uncle’s body.’
‘It was on his body,’ I said through gritted teeth. I was starting to understand. ‘He must have been wearing it when he died.’
‘Perhaps there was more than just his ring. When he left us, he was carrying a considerable amount of money.’
I couldn’t imagine why; I didn’t think the Fomori cared much for Sidhe cash. ‘If I find any money, I will bring it back and give it to you.’
‘Of this I am not so convinced. You are a thief, are you not?’
‘I was a thief.’ I tried to smile. ‘Surely everyone should get the chance to turn over a new leaf?’
Her mouth turned down. ‘Please do not use clichés in my presence. I simply abhor language of that ilk.’
I shouldn’t have done it but I couldn’t help myself. ‘Well, this worm has turned. I’ve moved onto bigger and better things, and I think even my harshest critic would say that I’ve come on in leaps and bounds.’
The expression on Chieftain MacBain’s face suggested that she was screaming inside. ‘You are not amusing in the slightest.’ The Gift I had stolen from Kirsty Kincaid informed that she was telling the absolute truth. Before I could throw another quip at her, she continued. ‘I would like someone to accompany you. Someone from another Clan that is not your own. Someone Sidhe.’
My heart sank as I thought of the rude lordling who’d stopped earlier and I tightened my jaw. ‘Someone from Clan MacBain? I think it’s my turn to show my mistrust, Chieftain MacBain. How do I know you won’t order them to stab me in the back once I’ve led them to the bones?’
She drew back with an incredulous shiver. ‘How dare you? A MacBain would never act in such a manner!’
Okay. Enough was enough. ‘So you won’t trust me,’ I said icily, ‘but I should trust every single one of you?’
Two spots of colour appeared high on her cheeks. Apparently Ma MacBain had suddenly realised how rude she’d been. She’d want to save face and not back down entirely, but I’d already learnt enough about the premium she placed on manners to wonder what she’d do next.
‘Then we compromise,’ she said finally. ‘You may choose someone from the main Clans. The important ones.’
I raised my eyebrows. The important ones? ‘You mean Darroch, Kincaid or Moncrieffe,’ I said.
‘They can all be trusted.’
I almost laughed aloud. This lady was more nuts than I’d realised. ‘Look, I...’ I paused. Hang on a minute. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘I’ll accept those terms. I nominate Byron Moncrieffe.’
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘Why him?’
Because Aifric would hold off on the assassination attempts if his son was hanging around. Of course that was the only reason. Definitely. Absolutely. One hundred smackeroony percent. ‘I know him. He’s a hero.’ My eyes gleamed. ‘And as the Steward’s son, he’s beyond reproach.’
I watched MacBain’s reaction carefully but all she did was agree with me. ‘True.’ She nodded. ‘I’ll send word immediately.’
‘Great. I’ll depart for the Veil as soon as he arrives.’
‘Excellent.’ She turned to go.
‘Aren’t you going to invite me in for a cup of tea?’ I called after her, checking how far I could test her civility.
She didn’t respond but Sorley coughed loudly. ‘Ma’am.’
‘Chieftain!’ she snapped again, over her shoulder.
‘Please...’
She sighed dramatically and turned round. ‘What?’
He looked at me. ‘She needs security.’
I was slightly taken aback. ‘Er, yeah.’ A lot of security probably but I wasn’t going to admit that in front of his boss.
He faced her. ‘I would like to tender my resignation and go with Ms Adair. I don’t feel that my skills are appreciated here and you have other trolls on your staff to take care of your needs.’
Chieftain MacBain raised her eyebrows while I took an involuntary step back and swallowed. Say what?
Sorley gave me a hasty glance. ‘If you’ll have me, of course.’
‘Sure, I’ll have you.’ What else was I going to say?
She addressed me. ‘He counts as one. You only get another forty-nine.’
Was she displeased or ecstatic at this development? I couldn’t tell. I shrugged in resignation. ‘Okay.’
She nodded again and strode off. I glanced at Sorley. ‘That was, uh, a bold move,’ I said finally. ‘I thought once you swore fealty, you were with a Clan for life.’
‘Trolls don’t swear fealty ‒ but neither do we all wish to be completely Clan-less. A group of us struck a bargain with the Sidhe decades ago.’ His expression made it clear that he thought the Clans had got the best deal.
Ah. That explained his refusal to call her Chieftain. I scratched my neck. ‘I don’t have much money at the moment to pay you.’
‘That is not a problem. I can wait.’
For someone who was such a jobsworth, he was remarkably laid back about remuneration. Taylor would love him. I sighed and pointed at the car. ‘Come on then.’
He smiled suddenly, a wide grin that spread from ear to ear. Then he stepped across the border and got in without once looking back. I had the feeling I was going to regret this – but at least Sorley was happy.
Chapter Five
Regardless of how gruff Sorley was while on duty, now he was in the car he proved to be quite the garrulous troll. He rambled on for almost the entire journey, barely pausing to take breath. I heard about the merits of magic versus machinery in keeping out larger species of wildlife; a treatise on punctuality; details about some failed key-card system which apparently the MacBain Clan had instituted in a bid to rid themselves of the trolls. At one point Bob roused himself, appearing in his usual flash of light. Sorley didn’t falter; he just kept on talking. It took Bob all of twenty seconds to decide that he was going back to sleep.
It hadn’t occurred to me that I’d be glad to see the Adair Lands but when we approached their border, I exhaled with relief. Sorley was well-meaning but even I had limits.
‘So you see, if you take a combination of an interlocking system and add it to a linear magic fold, then you’ll— Stop the car!’
‘Eh?’
‘I said, stop the car!’
I slammed on the brakes. ‘What is it?’ I hadn’t even finished the question when he leapt out and ran over to where I’d flung down Aifric’s old sign.
There was another blinding flash of light. ‘Charming fellow. Is it safe to come out yet?’
‘He takes security very seriously, Bob.’
‘He needs to get out more.’
Rather than involve myself in a pointless argument, I got out of the car too and joined Sorley. He had picked up the old sign and was gazing at it with disgust.
‘It’s defunct,’ I told him. ‘I’ve been given back the Lands.’
He wrinkled his nose and glared. ‘Desecration,’ he hissed.
Er... ‘Well,’ I said, folding my arms, ‘not really. The Land was confiscated after Gale Adair ‒ after my father supposedly killed the entire Clan. But, like I said, it’s been given back to me. The sign no longer holds.’ I tried not to sound antagonistic; I didn’t succeed.
‘That’s not what I was talking about,’ Sorley snapped. He twisted his squat body and flung the splintered wood away. It hurtled some considerable distance through the air.
I blinked. ‘Have you ever considered taking up the javelin?’ I enquired.
Sorley ignored me. He knelt down and began scrabbling at the dirt with his long, yellowing fingernails.
‘Look,’ said Speck, appearing over a small hill with Brochan who was carrying several large, heavy books. ‘The line is here.’
‘I am not disagreeing,’ Brochan said. ‘But the magic is not.’
‘How would you know? You’re just a me
rman.’
‘Just a merman?’
Speck caught sight of me and took advantage of my presence to change the subject. ‘Integrity! Hey!’
I waved up at them. ‘Wotcha doing?’
‘Trying to sort out the border,’ Speck called back. He jogged down, leaving Brochan to glare after him as he shifted the pile of books in his arms and lumbered down in Speck’s wake.
‘Any luck?’
Speck clicked his tongue. ‘Nada. In theory, it shouldn’t be that hard. We simply find the right spot and turn it on and, hey presto. Except we can’t find the spot and we don’t know how to turn it on. I’m also starting to feel a bit queasy. It’s all these open spaces. Without the comfort of a city, I just don’t feel right.’ He pushed his glasses up his nose and looked at me anxiously.
‘I knew you were claustrophobic,’ I said, ‘but I didn’t know you were agoraphobic as well. Isn’t that some kind of weird oxymoron?’
He shrugged. ‘I’m a walking mess of contradictions. I can’t help it.’ He glanced down at Sorley. ‘Did you know that there’s a troll wearing a peculiar outfit digging into the ground beside your feet?’ he asked in exactly the same tone of voice.
‘This is Sorley.’
‘Why is he here?’
Sorley straightened up. ‘To sort out your ridiculous mess of a security system, you dunderhead.’ He jerked his head at me. ‘Do these two have clearance?’
Brochan finally reached us. He stared at Sorley as if he’d never seen a troll before. ‘Clearance?’
I took Sorley by the arm and pulled him to one side. ‘We only arrived yesterday. We’ve not had time to put a proper system in place. Why don’t I leave all those details to you?’
An odd light appeared in his eyes. His mouth twitched and he began scratching furiously at a spot on his arm. ‘To me?’
‘Yeah,’ I shrugged. ‘You’re the security expert.’ I decided against mentioning that my life as a thief meant that I knew quite a bit about security myself. I just didn’t have a clue about magical borders.
‘Er, Tegs?’ Speck said from behind. ‘Can I have a word?’
‘What is it?’
He glanced at Sorley but the troll wasn’t listening. He still seemed awestruck by the fact that I’d given him complete control. He stared around him as if he couldn’t quite believe what was happening.
‘Security expert?’ Speck asked.
I nodded. ‘Yep. He was working for Chieftain MacBain but he chose to leave and join us instead.’ I pasted on a big grin, hoping to encourage Speck to welcome the troll rather than just continue giving him the nasties with his eyes.
‘Tegs,’ he said plaintively, ‘we’re thieves.’
‘We were thieves,’ I corrected. ‘Anyway, so what?’
‘Security expert? Thieves? Oil and water come to mind, don’t you think?’
‘I worked with a troll once,’ Brochan broke in. ‘Good guy.’
Sorley shook himself back to the present. ‘You are referring to the one who shall not be spoken of.’
I stared. ‘Voldemort?’
Sorley gave me a funny look. ‘No.’ He glanced round as if he was afraid he would be overheard then dropped his voice. ‘Harris.’
‘Harris?’ Speck asked loudly.
‘That was his name,’ said Brochan, remembering.
‘Sssshh! We don’t talk of him. He brought us great disrepute. He took everything we taught him and used it against us.’
Brochan pursed his lips and nodded. ‘He was a very good thief.’
‘Scum.’
Brochan pulled himself up. ‘Now just hang on a minute—’
‘Whoa! Let’s all calm down!’ I stepped between them. ‘Let’s agree to disagree, shall we?’
‘Integrity,’ Brochan snarled, ‘the damn genie is bad enough. You are dreaming if you think I’m going to get on with this ... this...’
‘I had a dream last night!’ I said desperately. ‘I dreamt I wrote The Lord of The Rings! I was Tolkein in my sleep.’
It wasn’t my best effort. Brochan’s lip curled but a strange sound escaped Sorley and we all turned to look at him. He clamped one massive hairy hand over his mouth, his eyes were filled with mirth and his shoulders shook. He was definitely giggling – and in a surprisingly girlish manner. We exchanged looks.
‘I tell you what, why don’t we leave you here to inspect the border, Sorley?’ I said. ‘I’ll check in with our other two companions. Then you can, um, report to me later.’
Sorley nodded. Tears were starting to pour from his eyes. It should have been gratifying that he found my joke funny but I was slightly concerned by his dramatic reaction. ‘If a Moncrieffe shows up, bring them up to the mansion,’ I instructed. Speck looked alarmed. I shook my head. ‘Strike that. If Byron Moncrieffe shows up, bring him up to the mansion. Try to keep everyone else out.’
Swallowing hard in a bid to compose himself, Sorley nodded to show he understood.
‘I didn’t think he had a sense of humour,’ I whispered to Speck and Brochan as we got into the car and drove up to the mansion.
Brochan threw me a look. ‘He obviously doesn’t,’ he sniffed.
I checked the mirror. Sorley was still chuckling to himself. I grinned. ‘I think this is going to work out great.’
***
We sat down together outside the main door to touch base. I explained what had happened with MacBain and Lexie shook her head in dismay. ‘You should have asked for Jamie. That would have had your Byron sprinting here in his place.’
Speck looked confused as I rolled my eyes. I had enough going on in my life as it was; I didn’t need to play silly games.
Brochan reiterated what they’d discovered about reinstating the magical border, which was nothing useful. Taylor had also not had much luck. He’d driven more than fifty miles to get a phone signal only to be told that the electricity company might be able to get to us by April. If they could squeeze us in.
I whistled in dismay. ‘That’s ridiculous. What about running water?’
He shook his head. ‘Sorry. They said they might get that to us by the summer.’
‘It’s those bloody Clans. Aifric must have done something. He’ll be behind the scenes pulling the strings.’
‘You don’t know that for sure.’
‘It’s an educated guess,’ I said sourly. My earlier good mood was quickly disappearing.
‘I found a well,’ Lexie said, trying to be helpful. ‘But the water is pretty rank. There was something floating in it. Old clothing maybe. Perhaps someone died in there when...’ Her voice trailed away.
I grimaced. ‘Perhaps.’
‘There is one thing I don’t understand,’ Taylor said. ‘You’re pretty certain that it wasn’t your father who killed everyone.’
‘The vision I had in the Cruaich grove suggested that,’ I agreed.
‘Well, if the magical border only disappeared when the land was confiscated and it was up and running when the massacre took place, how did the actual killers get in? There must have been a lot of them to take care of everyone here.’
My mouth turned down. ‘It must have been someone my father trusted. Someone who’d already been invited in.’
‘You mean someone like Aifric Moncrieffe.’
‘Plenty of people don’t like me,’ I pointed out. ‘But he’s the only one who’s tried to kill me.’
‘The Bull tried to kill you.’
I nibbled my lip. I’d almost forgotten about that. ‘True.’
‘And there might be others that we don’t know of.’
I gazed into the distance. ‘I’m still convinced that Aifric is behind all this. I don’t have proof, I don’t even have circumstantial evidence, I just...’ I sighed. ‘I just think it was him.’
‘Well,’ Taylor said cheerily, ‘it’s a good thing you’re not in love with his son then, right?’
I scowled. ‘I’m not in love with him. I...’
‘Want to get into his kilt? Wear
his clothes? You need to get over it, Tegs. I understand you can’t help how you feel but it could end up getting you killed.’
My cheeks reddened. I sat on my hands to stop them plucking at Byron’s jacket, which I was still wearing. Keen to change the subject, I focused on Lexie. ‘Speaking of the grove, did you find the Adair one?’
Her eyes danced. ‘I thought we were speaking of Byron Moncrieffe.’
I rolled my eyes at her. ‘Lex...’
She flashed me a grin before sobering up. ‘There’s nothing that I could see. Just that one tree that we’ve already been to.’
We turned to look at it. Silhouetted black against the sky, it was like some post-apocalyptic vision, tiny bud on one branch or not. I shivered.
‘So,’ Brochan said, ‘the Adair sacred grove is all but dust. The mansion is overgrown with weeds and bats and goodness knows what else. We’re not going to get any power or running water for months. We can’t work out how to kick start the border that’ll keep us safe – and even if we did, we’re not sure whether it will keep us safe.’ I opened my mouth to speak but he held up a palm. ‘Your theory about what happened with your father and the Clan is speculation, Tegs. Sorry. And,’ he flicked a look up at the grey clouds overhead, ‘it’s about to rain.’
‘I hate rain,’ Speck said.
‘You hate everything.’
My shoulders sank. Shite. I hated it when things went wrong like this. I liked sunshine and early mornings and cheesy jokes and optimistic science fiction that made no sense. I didn’t like glumness.
I got to my feet and dusted off my jeans. ‘There is one thing we can solve.’
‘What?’
I grabbed Bob’s scimitar from my belt and slid it out of the sheath. After I gave the blade a quick rub, he appeared in a flash of light. ‘Where’s the troll?’
‘Not here.’
He looked round suspiciously. Brochan sniffed then cursed.
‘You should see a doctor,’ Bob informed him. ‘You always have a cold.’
Brochan glared. ‘I’m allergic to you.’
‘Well,’ Bob said, ‘I’m allergic to you. You bring me out in hives.’ He showed us his forearm. ‘Look!’
