Last Wish (Highland Magic #4)

‘Huh, that’s interesting,’ Bob said.

I just managed to avoid yelping. ‘Goddamnit, Bob!’ I hissed, my fingers gripping the branch harder so I could remain in place. ‘I’m trying to concentrate!’

‘Well,’ he huffed, ‘I’d have thought you of all people would be interested in their conversation. D’you think Byron would invite me?’

‘What?’

He tsked and poked my cheek. ‘He thinks you’re dead. I have no reason not to be here. I could pretend to bump into him and then maybe he’d invite me along. I like parties.’

‘Bob, what on earth are you on about?’

He sighed as if I were incredibly dim-witted. ‘Listen.’

I widened my focus so that instead of being wholly absorbed in one man, I was paying attention to them all.

‘What about strippers?’ asked one swarthy Sidhe, who was Moncrieffe judging by the tartan he was wearing.

‘I know this girl,’ another answered, ‘who is able to shoot ping-pong balls…’

I gagged and made a face. Fortunately, I wasn’t the only one.

‘Mate, this is Byron we’re talking about. He’s classier than that.’

‘But this girl is classy! You need to meet her. She’s got legs that go on for miles.’

‘I’ve got a company lined up. They’re going to give us their most talented girl for the evening.’

‘Which company?’

The speaker consulted his phone. ‘Tartan Exotica. I know Mark, the owner, and he’s giving me a good deal.’

‘Grand.’

There was a rustle of leaves. All the Sidhe turned guiltily, relaxing only when they saw who had joined them. ‘So,’ Jamie Moncrieffe said. ‘How are the preparations going? Have you managed to book the Haven?’

‘Done and dusted, mate.’

He smiled. ‘Good. Byron has no clue about what’s going on. I’ll tell the band to show up around 7pm but it’s up to you guys to make sure everything’s a surprise.’

‘No problem.’

‘And the entertainment is sorted? No strippers, right?’

The others all nodded vigorously. ‘Right.’

‘Damn,’ Bob whispered. ‘If it’s a surprise, I’ll need to talk to Jamie about my invite. He doesn’t really know me, though.’

‘You’re not going to Byron’s bloody stag do, Bob.’

He pouted. ‘I might find out some serious intel. Maybe Aifric will be there.’

‘Yes, because I’m sure that the Steward wants to spend his evening with strippers and young Sidhe blokes getting off their faces.’ I snorted in disgust. ‘This is a waste of time.’ I started slithering back down the branch. I had zero interest in this.

‘Oi! Where are you going? What about their Gifts?’

‘I’ll find some others instead. Anyway, it’ll be safer to nick their magic when they’re alone.’ As to what that magic might be, I’d just have to hope I managed to get some worthwhile Gifts. A lucky dip rather than a selection box. No problem.

***

Obviously, wandering in through the Cruaich’s main doors was a big no-no. I took inspiration from our jaunt to the Bull’s lair and headed round the back of the massive castle. I shoved all my hair inside my trusty baseball cap and kept my head down. It was unlikely that any Sidhe would be hanging around the servants’ quarters so all I had to do was avoid looking anyone in the eye and I could skate by without suspicion. If the worst came to the worst, I had enough of Tipsania’s Gift to vanish.

I smiled humourlessly. If word got round that Integrity Adair’s ghost was haunting the Cruaich, at least I’d have something new to laugh about.

I found a small door leading in to the staff quarters. Having used one of the guest rooms at the Cruaich on a previous occasion, I was shocked at how shabby these rooms were. They were cramped and small, they didn’t look particularly clean and the sheets on the dorm-room beds were threadbare. Another black mark against the Moncrieffes, I thought sourly.

A couple of people wearing the Cruaich livery brushed by me, obviously on their way to work. I angled my face away and murmured greetings. As I’d suspected, everyone was too busy to pay me much attention.

Towards the end of the first corridor, I came to a bank of old-fashioned bells, the sort once used in grand houses to summon servants. The signs beneath these bells were new, however. When the one marked ‘Boss’ began to ring, I almost jumped out of my skin. Aifric really was an old-fashioned kind of guy. I was tempted to remove the ringer so that he would sit for hours waiting for someone to bring him a cup of tea but it would be a petty thing to do – and it would get the servants into trouble. Instead I moved smoothly past, happy in the knowledge that he was tucked out of the way, and set off for the library.

This was going to be the most dangerous part of the expedition. I hissed at Bob to remind him to keep out of sight and debated for a moment whether I could afford to use Tipsania’s Gift. I wanted to be sparing with it; it was a finite resource and, if I took too much from her, she might end up with none. Ripping away someone’s Gift in its entirety seemed to be the only way for me to keep hold of it for good but that was too high a price to pay for more power.

I cast my gaze across the wide space, taking in the different people milling around. I couldn’t see the library from here and all I knew from Fergus was that there was a door nearby leading to the dungeons. I’d have to hope that I found the right one without too much bother. Waiting for an appropriate break in the crowd, I took a deep breath and strode out.

I’d barely gone ten metres when a well-dressed woman who I vaguely recognised from the Sidhe Games strolled in my direction. Attempting to look casual, I stayed on my path for a few steps then moved to my right. I craned my neck up as if examining the large painting hanging on the wall. When the woman stopped at my side and also glanced up at the giant picture, my stomach dropped.

‘It’s not often you see people stopping to take in their surroundings,’ she said approvingly.

‘It’s a beautiful piece,’ I murmured, praying she’d keep her attention on the painting rather than look at me. My tell-tale white hair was hidden and I was wearing contact lenses to mask my violet eyes but my weak disguise wouldn’t stand up to close scrutiny. All she had to do was look me in the face to discover the truth. I might have to use Tipsania’s Gift and make like a ghost again after all.

‘Yes. I’m told it was acquired from the Adair Clan after they— Well, you know.’

I stiffened. Shite. She must have recognised me. I tensed, ready for action. Run or hide?

‘I suppose,’ she continued, ‘they’re going to be consigned to history now.’

I almost snorted, despite my panic. Aifric controlled history like everything else. I’d seen what was missing from the library with my own eyes; he had effectively rubbed out the Adair Clan’s existence. Until I came along.

‘Still,’ she said, as if reading my thoughts, ‘the Steward knows best.’ She paused. ‘And what’s your name? Are you Clan Moncrieffe?’