Last Wish (Highland Magic #4)

When we were less than fifty feet away, I slid towards the bushes at the side of the road. We were in the middle of nowhere so there was little light, something that was working in my favour. I hunched and tiptoed forward. I couldn’t see any flickering shadows but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anyone there and it didn’t ease my tension. I moved faster and gradually got closer to the border. There weren’t any people ? but there was something there.

I stopped at the edge of the border, remaining still for a long moment, as I scanned up and down for any sign of life. I knew from the puddle of fabric at my feet that I wasn’t going to see anyone; Byron hadn’t stopped and got out of his car for a chat with a family servant, he’d got out to bring down the Moncrieffe flag. No doubt he’d done so by sending up a pyrokinetic bolt so the flag fell to the ground without Byron putting a single foot across the border. That was the little flare I’d seen. And he hadn’t stopped there; Byron had apparently made use of his second Gift as well, lifting up the flagpole to remove it entirely from the spot that controlled the border itself. It now lay uselessly on its side.

I rocked back on my heels. Byron could never have managed a feat like this if the trolls were still in place. Their presence helped maintain the magic of the Sidhe borders, together with the flagpoles, the Clan colours and the incumbent Moncrieffe Sidhe, most of whom were back at the stag party. The majority of Sidhe didn’t understand how the borders worked but it was obvious that Byron did. What wasn’t obvious was why he had sneaked away from his own party and was skipping unseen into his own Clan Lands. He should have been able to pass them without consequence.

I glanced at Bob. He raised his eyebrows at me and I jabbed a finger at him. ‘Speak.’ He crossed his arms and pouted. ‘Bob,’ I said, ‘you may speak. I won’t tell any jokes.’ I gestured at the fallen flag and horizontal flagpole. ‘But I need to understand what’s going on.’

He shrugged. ‘S’easy. Byron knows you’re tailing him and he’s setting a trap. He’s made it easy for you to cross his border. As soon as you do, he’ll pounce on you, tie you up and slit your throat.’

I narrowed my eyes.

‘Or,’ Bob added, ‘he doesn’t want anyone to know that he’s been home. If there’s no real heavy magic in place at the border, no one will know that it’s been crossed, even by a Moncrieffe Sidhe.’

I rubbed my chin. ‘But why? He’s the sodding Moncrieffe heir. He can come and go as he pleases.’

‘So now you want to hear my theories?’

I sighed. ‘If we’re talking about wild speculation, no. Can I pass through unnoticed now?’

Bob tapped his mouth. ‘Probably. There’s still magic there but it’s pretty faint. What remains is less likely to be activated against another Sidhe than it is against, say, a Fomori demon.’ He paused. ‘However, as an all-knowing magnificent being with powers you can only dream of, I would say it’s still too dangerous. You’re far better abandoning this entire project so we can go back home.’

I nodded. ‘Yeah.’ He beamed in glee but I wasn’t done. ‘You stay here. If I’m not back in three hours, head back to the Adair Lands and tell the others what’s happened.’

Bob’s smile vanished. ‘If you’re dead, I’m no longer beholden to you in any way, shape or form. I don’t want you to be dead. Despite your irritating nature, you’re my friend.’ I didn’t imagine the pleading note in his voice. ‘Leave it be. I understand how you feel about Byron Moncrieffe but this isn’t worth it. You’ve got more important things to do. You’re supposed to save Scotland.’

‘If that prophecy is real,’ I said with an arch grin, ‘then I’ll save Scotland regardless of what happens. So there’s nothing to worry about.’

‘Uh Integrity!’ Bob howled. ‘You know prophecies don’t work that way!’

‘Then don’t bring it up.’ I smiled reassuringly. ‘I’ll be back before you know it.’ Before he could protest any further, I ducked my head and passed across what little remained of the Moncrieffe border.

***

I sprinted up the driveway, no longer attempting to conceal myself. The darkness was enough of a shroud, although it also worked against me as the road here was almost as badly maintained as the Adair one. On at least one occasion I narrowly avoided landing in a deep pothole. When I reached the spot where Byron had parked his car, I wondered if he’d left it there to avoid damaging its suspension on the uneven ground. Given what I’d seen at the border, however, he could well have parked there because he wanted to disguise his approach to the castle.

I paused to peer through the windows. The car was spick and span; I’d find no clues there.

I started running again. I’d never been here – at least, not that I could remember – so I was travelling blind. Taylor had always maintained the importance of preparation when making an incursion and I’d always stuck to that rule but these were special circumstances. I pushed away the voice that told me I was being reckless and acting out of character and kept on going.

The Moncrieffe castle was lit by two flickering torches near the heavy, studded main door. I couldn’t see any other lights in the windows; with their crappy finances, the Moncrieffes were probably trying to cut back on the electricity bill. Perhaps Aifric considered financial fraud beneath him, even if mass murder was acceptable.

I debated whether to open the door, slip inside and take on whatever came my way but it was too much of a risk. And there was always another way in. Always.

I darted to my left. There was a bank of windows along the eastern side, all firmly closed. It didn’t matter; Scottish architecture always included a handy back door. I’d nip in through there.

I ran softly round the outskirts of the castle, taking care to duck and roll every time I passed a window in case someone happened to spot me flying past. I zipped round the corner, my confidence growing when I saw a small door built into the back wall. Easy-peasy.

I tugged on the handle. Nothing happened so I tugged again. Arse. I couldn’t even find a suitable lock to pick; the bloody door was bolted on the other side in several places. Not insurmountable, but it would take time I didn’t have. Maybe it was locked because Aifric knew someone could finagle their way in past the border and massacre everyone inside. After all, he’d done that himself to my Clan. Then I reminded myself that the Bull’s back door had been locked too. I was over-thinking.

I pulled back, looking around for another entrance. If Byron had sneaked in here, he had to have entered the castle somehow. It was his childhood home so he’d be well aware of every nook and cranny, unlike a stranger like me. I was, however, a gifted thief; if there was another entrance through which I could slip in unnoticed, I’d find it.