‘Not everything is as it seems,’ he replied cryptically. ‘Not even you.’
When we eventually made it outside, the older woman who’d stopped me before was in front of us. She swooped down in another low curtsey and said, in a clear voice, ‘Chieftain Adair.’ Unfortunately her words were followed by a high-pitched cackle that made her appear even crazier .
I stiffened. There was a murmur from the cluster of Sidhe around us and I spotted several dirty looks. It confirmed that all those who despised me openly were high born. I chewed this over silently as Byron and I continued on our way.
The last person we encountered before the grove was Jamie. His cheeks reddened rather adorably but he did give me a small grin.
‘Hi,’ I said softly.
He raised a hand in acknowledgment. Feeling Byron’s gaze, I smiled tightly and walked on.
‘Jamie is a good man,’ he told me quietly. ‘I’d hate to think you were toying with him.’
Actually, I felt a bit sorry for Jamie. He’d probably been chewed out by Byron and was suffused with embarrassment when he saw me. Well, two could play the cryptic game. ‘As you said, Byron dear, not everything is as it seems.’
Without waiting for his reaction, I strode ahead, halting only when I reached the edge of the grove. I peered inside. There was a path and there were a lot of trees but I couldn’t make out much else.
‘You know,’ I said to Byron as he reached my side, ‘when I was four or five, I made the mistake of stumbling into the Scrymgeour grove. I didn’t get very far. It was probably only a few metres. The reactions I got though?’ I whistled and shook my head. ‘You’d think I’d tried to commit murder.’
He squeezed my fingers. ‘That was wrong,’ he said simply. ‘The groves are holy places to us all but you were only a child.’
I stared in, emotions warring inside me. Trepidation was winning. ‘Are you going to come with me?’
‘No.’ He released my hand. ‘Only one person should enter at any time. It makes it less confusing for the ancestors.’
‘But whose ancestors will I meet?’ I whispered.
Byron didn’t answer. From here on in, I really was on my own. I reached for Bob’s scimitar and handed it over. Byron looked confused. ‘You’re giving me a letter opener?’
It was safer not to get into a discussion about what it actually was. Not with Bob listening in. ‘Just hold onto it for me, will you? It has, um, sentimental value.’
Despite my concerns that someone was out to get me, I couldn’t risk Bob hearing my true name. There was no telling what he’d do with that kind of power. And even if Byron tried to clean the blade, Bob wouldn’t appear. Until I used up my wishes – or died – I was Bob’s owner. Besides, the sacred groves were places of peace. It would be sacrilege for someone to attack me here.
Byron nodded, watching as I squared my shoulders. With a deep breath, I crossed into the grove and focused on logical thinking rather than my twisty emotions. Truth be told, I was hoping that my true name would be something manageable. My knowledge of formal Sidhe language was scanty; it was just as well it was only used in ceremonial settings and for legal documents, or I’d be stumbling around here without a clue about what was being said around me.
If I received a complicated Sidhe name, I’d be as likely to forget it as to make the mistake of letting someone else know what it was so they could attain absolute power over me. One syllable might be okay: ‘Pink’ would be cool if someone hadn’t already nabbed that name. Two syllables could work. If my true name turned out to be ‘Danger’, I could have a lot of fun. I imagined meeting someone for the first time. ‘Hi. I’m Integrity and Danger is my middle name.’ The best part would be no one would ever twig I was telling them the truth. It’d be a great in-joke. Unfortunately it was more likely that I’d end up with Poo Madra Na Cathrach Ar Mo Brog or something equally dim-witted and unpronounceable.
I ducked my head to avoid some low lying branches. I thought the trees lining the driveway on the way up here were unusual, but they were nothing compared to these. None of them possessed a single leaf but all the same they were stunningly beautiful. The branches and trunks were a soft silver, gleaming in the weak midday sunshine. I glanced back; I couldn’t make out Byron’s figure. Despite the lack of foliage, these trees did a damn good job of concealment.