‘If it goes back to the Cruaich,’ Dorienne pointed out, ‘then by default the Moncrieffes end up with the ownership of it. We cannot allow that to happen.’
‘My dear, the Cruaich belongs to us all. It’s not as if I’m scurrying away with it to the Moncrieffe Clan lands. You’ll know where it is.’
‘That’s all very well, Steward, but the Cruaich is hardly close to Kincaid lands. We have a lot of skilled people in our Clan who will be well placed to heal it.’
‘I’m not giving that kind of power to the Kincaids!’
The argument went round and round in circles. I eyed the Foinse that was now being cradled by Aifric. If I looked closely, I could swear that its sickly aura now had a slightly different tinge.
‘How long has the Foinse been held here?’ I asked Byron in an undertone.
He shrugged, his expression displeased as he watched the to-ing and fro-ing between the Clan heads. ‘A thousand years, give or take.’
I considered the chest. It was an old piece but I’d estimate it was no more than two hundred years old. The aura around the Foinse suggested that it was a living being. And, speaking for myself as another living being, I didn’t think I’d do particularly well trapped inside a box. I’d probably get sick after two centuries of darkness too.
I craned my neck upwards at the shaft of light. It was less strong now, indicating that the end of the day was approaching. I wondered whether the position of the box beneath the light had been deliberate. Unless you were a stoor worm used to the dark depths of the ocean, chances were you’d need sunlight.
I glanced at Byron. With his head in the beam of light, his bronzed locks were burnished and gleaming.
‘Do me a favour,’ I said, ‘and bring the Foinse over here. Your father’s more likely to hand it to you than me.’ And Kincaid and Darroch would be less likely to complain about Byron taking it as well.
‘What are you thinking?’ he asked.
‘I just want to try something out,’ I prevaricated.
With a shake of his head, Byron did as I asked. Aifric appeared reluctant to let it go, as I’d surmised but he was hardly going to say no to his son and heir.
‘I’d thought it was going to be bigger,’ Diana said, as Byron brought it back over. ‘It’s still pretty, though.’
‘It’s warm,’ he said, surprised. ‘And I can feel it almost … pulsating.’
‘Can you hold it up to the light?’ I asked.
His brow furrowed but he stepped over and allowed the sunlight to filter down. Not only did the Foinse seem to glow more strongly, but its aura began to change. It still didn’t look healthy but I could definitely see an improvement.
‘Can I hold it?’ Diana asked eagerly.
Byron shrugged. ‘Sure.’ He passed it over.
She hefted in her hands. ‘Just think,’ she whispered, ‘this tiny thing is responsible for all of us. For all of our gifts and all of our magic.’
‘The best things come in small packages,’ I agreed. I held up my palms. ‘May I?’
She handed it to me, taking great care not to drop it. I smiled as I might at a gurgling baby. Aware that the three Chieftains had interrupted their conversation to watch me, I made sure I didn’t appear overly possessive. ‘Have you ever read Harry Potter?’ I asked casually.
Malcolm’s lip curled but Diana nodded. ‘You know Quidditch?’ I said. ‘What’s the name of the flying ball that they try to capture to win the game?’
She smiled suddenly. ‘You’re right! It’s exactly like that! The snitch. That’s what it reminds me of. If it had wings, it would be a perfect match.’
‘Mm.’ I let my fingers brush against the Foinse’s warmth for another second. Then I threw it up into the air directly into the sunbeam.
They all gasped in horror. Byron lunged for it while Aifric and William sprang forward. Dorienne appeared to be frozen in place.
‘You idiot!’ Malcolm screeched. ‘What have you done?’ He flung himself at me, slamming me down to the ground. Despite the painful crack of my spine on the stone, I kept my eyes on the Foinse.
They say that what goes up must come down – but the Foinse definitely wasn’t coming back down. In fact, it was gathering speed, rising up and up and up. As Malcolm drew back his fist and punched my face, I saw the Foinse reach the hole in the top of the mountain, wink once against the failing sunlight and disappear. Then my nose exploded in pain.
I felt Malcolm’s weight being dragged off me and the smack of more flesh on flesh. Blinking away tears, I struggled to my elbows, just as William Kincaid grabbed me and yanked to my feet.
‘You’ve doomed us all!’ he shouted. I got a strong whiff of garlic from last night’s stew. ‘You’re just like your father after all!’