‘Enough!’
‘If she doesn’t have her true name, then she didn’t receive her Gift,’ the moany red-haired Sidhe interjected. ‘That’s why she didn’t…’ The woman’s voice trailed away as Aifric’s icy blue gaze turned on her.
I frowned. Didn’t what?
‘Byron,’ Aifric snapped, ‘you will attend to this immediately.’
He bowed. ‘Of course.’
‘We will have to delay the journey to the Foinse.’ Aifric stroked his chin. His voice dropped. ‘When was the last time one of us waited until adulthood to receive our name?’
Silence answered him. He scowled.
‘It might make the fever worse,’ a stunning blond hulk of a man muttered.
‘It could be a week before she can travel,’ someone else agreed.
Excuse me? Fever? I crossed my arms and glared, expecting someone to explain.
Aifric shook his head in irritation. ‘Either way, we are forced to wait.’ He looked at Byron again. ‘Make the arrangements.’
A haughty-looking man with a hooked nose cleared his throat. ‘Is the Adair grove still standing?’
Several of the Sidhe exchanged nervous glances. I spotted a few shrugs and one or two head shakes.
‘Even if it’s still there,’ Aifric stated, ‘we don’t have time to travel there. We’re going to lose enough days as it is. We have no clue when the Foinse is going to give out. It might be days or it might be months but we can’t afford to wait. She can use the Cruaich grove.’
There was a collective intake of breath. ‘That’s reserved for Clan heirs,’ the ginger woman complained.
Aifric appeared unimpressed. ‘She’s the heir to the Adair Clan.’
She wanted nothing to do with the Adair Clan. I decided, however, that this was a good time to keep my mouth shut. Sometimes you learn more by listening. It wasn’t a habit I practised very often but I held my tongue ? at least until I had a better grasp of this situation.
‘You can’t let her in there!’ someone burst out. ‘What if she desecrates the ground?’
‘It’s sacred,’ another agreed. ‘Not for the likes of her.’
I almost laughed. It was amusing that they thought I would soil their precious grove simply by my presence. Not for the likes of me, indeed. Had I wandered into the pages of a Victorian novel?
Byron growled, ‘She’s not going to desecrate the grove. She’s here, isn’t she? She’s going to help us with the Foinse. She’s hardly some marauding brute out to destroy us all. She’s not her father.’
I was rather touched by Byron’s interjection. I noticed that he failed to mention that I was here because he’d blackmailed me. Or that I was a criminal.
‘She will use the grove here,’ Aifric boomed, his expression thunderous. ‘And I will hear no more on the matter.’ He glared at every single person. Most – but not all – dropped their eyes.
Still piqued, he sniffed loudly, gathered up his robes and swept out of the room. The remaining Sidhe looked at me and I looked at Byron. I wasn’t going to damage their damn grove. I was more concerned about myself than a bunch of old trees.
‘Fever?’
Byron looked at me with a new light in his eyes but ignored my question. ‘All those thefts. I was sure you had to have…’ He shook himself. ‘You’re more impressive than you realise.’
My earlier amusement dissipated, replaced by tingling wariness. I didn’t understand what was going on but I definitely didn’t like it.
Chapter Eleven
It was with some relief that Byron escorted me out. ‘Naming ceremonies typically take place at midday,’ he told me. ‘They go more smoothly when the sun is at its peak so you’ll need to hang around here until then.’
‘What was that ginger woman going to say?’ I asked. ‘What didn’t I do because I’ve not received my gift? And what the hell is this about a fever?’
‘You have to understand, Integrity, that this has never happened before. All Sidhe receive their true names when they turn thirteen. This is new territory for all of us.’
‘You didn’t answer my questions,’ I pointed out.
‘I don’t know what she was going to say,’ he admitted.
There was a husky interruption from the side. ‘Byron, you’re back! I was hoping you’d come up to my rooms and visit.’
My hackles rose. I craned my neck round, stiffening when my worst fears were confirmed. Tipsania. What was she doing here?
She sauntered up to Byron and hooked her arm round his neck, planting a kiss on his lips. He shifted awkwardly, extricating himself from her grasp.
‘Hi Tipsy.’ He gestured to me. ‘I’m sure you remember Integrity.’