I glared at a few of the less subtle Sidhe and they backed off. I also scanned every face for signs of disappointment that I was still alive. One of these wankers had summoned the stoor worm. Unfortunately, if my would-be executioner was one of these guys, he or she was a damned good actor.
I’d just reached the front doors and was about to step outside when there was an alarmed shout. ‘Chieftain Adair! You can’t leave! Not yet.’
I turned, sucking in a breath as my body complained at the sudden movement. ‘It’s Taylor, not Adair. Whoever my parents were, the Adair Clan is dead.’
The Sidhe who’d addressed me was an older woman with a lined face and less than pristine clothes that marked her as a lower-class Sidhe. She caught up with me. ‘You should be proud of that name,’ she scolded. ‘Pride is important. Like lions. Lions are strong. They’re the kings of the jungle. That’s why they live in prides.’
I raised my eyebrows. I’d been accosted by a mad woman. ‘Why should I be proud? Everyone treats me like I’m a leper because of that name.’
She shook her head. ‘They’re just too scared to come and talk to you.’ She grabbed my shirt and started pulling, as if she wanted to drag me back inside. ‘The Adairs are legends in their own right.’
‘Were legends,’ I said flatly, shaking her off. ‘But thank you for your words.’ I supposed the least I could do was to be polite. I turned to go.
‘Where are you going? Don’t leave! We need you.’
‘I’m not leaving,’ I said through gritted teeth. ‘I’m going for a walk.’
Her eyes rolled in an alarming fashion. ‘Walk the walk and talk the talk! Let me get you an escort at least.’
I shuffled away from her. ‘I think I can manage to walk on my own.’ Besides, the only person in the entire castle who I trusted at that moment was Jamie. He was the only one who couldn’t have set the damn stoor worm on me.
‘I knew your parents,’ the old woman burst out desperately, her frizzy hair trembling with the effect of her outburst. ‘Mummy and Daddy. Mother and Father. Mum and Dad. Mere and Pere. Ma and Pa.’ Her voice trailed off.
I looked at her. When I was growing up in the Bull’s demesne, I heard my father mentioned a lot. No one ever breathed a word about my mother. The woman beamed at my sudden interest. ‘I can tell you all about them,’ she said. She flapped her arms. ‘Chat chat chat!’
Something inside me hardened. Whoever my mother was, she was dead now. And I’d had it drummed into me that my father was a villainous prick who sacrificed hundreds of lives simply because it had suited him. People said the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Well, I didn’t want to be anywhere near it. Anyway, this woman was clearly nuts.
‘No, thanks,’ I said curtly, trying to ignore the way her face fell.
I shoved my hands in my pockets and strode away, glad that she didn’t try and stop me. It was already dusk, with the sky the colour of murky purple in the way you only ever see in the Highlands. I sucked in a breath, got my bearings, and marched round the castle walls. My posture and frown made it clear to anyone watching that I wanted no further part in small talk about my heritage or even the damned weather.
I found Bob’s ‘scimitar’ in a clump of dandelions by the far west corner. Glancing up, I could still see the trail of slime left by the stoor worm. I shook myself, still incredulous that I’d escaped, then reached down, grimacing in pain, and grabbed the hilt.
Checking that no-one was watching me, I rubbed the blade.
Bob squinted up. ‘This isn’t a good time,’ he declared. ‘Sisko’s in trouble and I’m not sure he’s going to make it.’
‘Oooh, The Visitor? The episode where he’s come unstuck in time and his son is trying to save him? That’s a good one.’
‘I know.’ He glared. ‘Can I get back to watching it?’
‘Perhaps you need to put away the boxed set and start paying more attention. I almost died half an hour ago.’
‘Hmm?’ Bob drummed his fingers impatiently against the ground. ‘Do you think his son will save him?’ His mouth pursed. ‘No, wait. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.’ He cupped his hands round his ears. ‘Tralalalalala. I’m not listening.’
I sighed and waited. It took him a moment or two. He blinked and dropped his arms. ‘Wait a minute. You just about died?’
‘Stoor worm.’
Bob’s puzzlement grew. ‘We’re still at the Cruaich.’
‘I know.’
‘How stupid do you think I am, Uh Integrity?’ he said, affecting hurt. ‘Stoor worms live in the bottom of the ocean.’
‘I know.’
He leaned forward and sniffed. ‘Soap,’ he declared. ‘Definitely not stoor worm. Soap and,’ he paused, ‘sex.’ He lifted his eyebrows admiringly. ‘Fast work.’
I gazed at him, exasperated. ‘I’m not lying. There really was a stoor worm. Someone must have conjured it to try and get rid of me.’
Bob shrugged. ‘So they failed. Better luck next time!’