Last Wish (Highland Magic #4)(11)



‘There’s not much ginger going on these days. My hair’s almost as white as yours.’

‘Aren’t you the lucky one?’

Bob buzzed over and peered at us. ‘What’s with you two? We’re in a godforsaken layby in a scrap of land. It’s hardly a romantic setting and yet the pair of you are making googly eyes at each other.’ He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. ‘Is there something you’re not telling us? I know there’s a bit of an age difference but did you come here and…’ He made a rude gesture with his fingers.

‘Ewww! Bob, get out of my face!’ I flicked him away. ‘This is where Taylor and I met.’

Bob’s bottom lip jutted out. ‘Here? I will never understand humans. Why would you come here? I mean, I’m an all-knowing supreme being with…’

‘…powers you can only dream of,’ the rest of us chorused for him.

‘Exactly,’ he huffed. ‘But why would you come here?’

I shrugged. ‘Fate?’

‘Luck?’ Taylor suggested.

Bob regarded us both. ‘I met Lady Luck once.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Between you and me, she’s not all there.’ He tapped his temple.

Taylor stared at him. ‘Lady Luck? She’s a real person?’

‘Well, duh.’

‘Is she still around? Because I’ve got to tell you I could really do with—’

‘Bob’s having you on,’ I said, glaring at the genie. ‘And we’ve got more important things to do than shoot the breeze and discuss how you can gamble away more of your life.’ I pointed at a clump of bushes. ‘Come on. The Scrymgeour border is over this way. Single file and stay frosty.’

‘This is just like old times,’ Lexie sighed happily as she fell into place.

My skin prickled in a familiar frisson of anticipation. All I had to do was to focus on the fact that this was a heist of sorts – and forget that I was returning to the place where I’d spent my deeply unhappy formative years – and I’d be fine.

Bob aside, we all knew exactly what we were doing. We were dressed in black from head to toe, camouflaged for the night and against prying eyes. I kept my body low as I wove my way through the foliage, avoiding the thorns and brambles which barred the route. Soon we emerged onto a thin path which snaked upwards. If I squinted, I could just make out the glimmer of lights up ahead. I hoped the Bull hadn’t done any drastic renovations in the years since I’d run away. Despite his wealth, he was a tight-fisted bastard so chances were that everything remained the same and I’d have no trouble finding my way around. I crossed my fingers just in case.

We skirted silently through the woods. It had rained recently, so each of us left distinct tracks in the mud of the path. It didn’t matter; it’s not as if we were actually stealing anything. It was unlikely that anyone would discover our footprints and think that a gang of highly skilled thieves had wandered up this way in the dead of night. All the same, we’d have to take care that we didn’t track mud into the castle. That would be a sure-fire giveaway that something was up.

It was a good twenty minutes before the border finally came into view. Just as with the Adair Lands, there was a massive flagpole with the Scrymgeour colours hanging loosely at the top. The flag was there for more than just show; the magic that kept the border in place stemmed from it, bolstered by ancient spells and wisdom lost to almost all Sidhe. The trolls who normally maintained these borders were well aware of it, though. Sorley had given me a detailed – and rather unnecessary – history, as well as bestowing on Speck the means to unlock the magic to permit entry.

If the trolls had still been in place, I doubt we’d have managed to sneak in but the trolls were now at Clan Adair. All we had to deal with were a few dozing Scrymgeour servants. The presence of the Scrymgeour Sidhe inside the border helped bolster the magic but Speck was strong enough now to beat it.

I counted four border guards: a warlock, two humans and – surprise, surprise – a Sidhe. I wondered what he’d done to piss off the Bull and end up here on guard duty. He was the only one of the four who seemed fully alert. He scowled at his companions from time to time, especially when the warlock let out a loud snore. As I stayed low and watched, he strode towards the warlock’s slumped body and raised his foot, as if preparing for a sharp kick. Then he grimaced and seemed to think better of it – though he still looked distinctly unhappy.

I considered. It was imperative that we slip through unnoticed and it didn’t appear as if the Sidhe boy was going to drift off any time soon.

‘You’re going to have to do it, Tegs,’ Brochan murmured in my ear. ‘It’s the best way.’ Unfortunately, Brochan was right. Short of waltzing up to the Scrymgeour Sidhe and clocking him on the nose before he managed to raise the alarm, I couldn’t see an alternative. I wasn’t convinced that this course of action fitted with my pacifist morality but I’d brought us here and I had to step up to the proverbial plate.

Taking a deep breath and holding the air in my lungs, I concentrated just like Morna had taught me. If I focused hard enough and used the meditation techniques I’d been practising, I could almost visualise the swirl of magic within the Sidhe’s soul. I had no idea what his Gift was and I wasn’t stealing from him because I wanted it for myself – there was another method to my madness.

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