Gifted Thief (Highland Magic #1)(71)

Byron nudged the black stallion and sped up, joining his father at the front. He didn’t look back.

‘Him,’ she said, in a tone that suggested she was pointing out the obvious, ‘and you. Lots of crickle crackle.’

I stared at Byron. That was certainly one way of putting it. Me and my big mouth.





Chapter Twenty




We finally made camp a few hours after dusk. Byron had resolutely refused to speak to me since our argument and Lily, while fun to have around, was often flighty, taking off in mid-conversation to gallop after a butterfly or a beam of sunshine or whatever happened to take her fancy. I tried to ask her several times what she could tell me about my parents but, whereas before when I hadn’t wanted to know she’d practically begged to tell me about them, now she didn’t seem interested.

I started wishing I could bring Bob out, just so I’d have someone to talk to who wasn’t going to go off on a tangent or sulk. I even wondered if it would be really bad to teleport myself to the Foinse and do my bit then leave. Perhaps the others wouldn’t notice my absence.

Of course, it didn’t help that my arse was incredibly sore. After hours of bouncing up and down in the saddle, I could barely stand when I slid off Barbie. For her part, she seemed unconcerned, nudging me curiously when my legs gave way and I crumpled right next to her. She proceeded to grab a mouthful of my hair and chew on it. The Darroch dowser, whose name I discovered was Diana, found that very funny. I dragged myself up, using Barbie’s bulky frame, rescued my hair, and started muttering.

‘Diana Darroch dowses dutifully. Diana Darroch dowses dutifully. Try saying that five times over,’ I called out to her. ‘It’s a great tongue twister.’

She sniffed and turned her back on me. It was better than the sniggering. I didn’t want anyone sniggering unless it was at one of my jokes.

Once I’d untacked Barbie – which took me far longer than anyone else because I was hurting so much – I watched with interest as Byron used pyrokinesis to light a fire. While the others started cooking, and Lily curled up next to the fire and promptly fell asleep, I wandered off and tried to do the same as Byron. No matter how hard I concentrated, I couldn’t create a single spark. That answered one question at least: it wasn’t enough for me to be in the vicinity of someone when they used their Gift; to learn it – if that was even what I did. I tapped my mouth thoughtfully.

‘Bob,’ I whispered. ‘Are you there?’

There was no answer. I slid out the letter opener and glanced around again to double check that I was on my own. It was just as well that I did because Aifric suddenly appeared from out of the trees.

‘Integrity! You ran off very quickly. We’ve got some food. Come back and join us. We don’t often cook for ourselves, you know,’ he added with a wink. ‘You should enjoy the moment while you can.’

I smiled at him, smoothly returning the blade to my pocket. ‘You’re right. Highborn Sidhe doing the job of a servant? What is the world coming to?’

Aifric appeared very easy going for someone in his position. ‘The others wanted to bring more people along to serve us,’ he confided.

‘You didn’t want them?’

‘The groves are sacred. The Foinse even more so.’

I licked my lips. ‘It regulates all the magic, right?’ He nodded. ‘And the magic affects everyone in some way or another, whether they have Gifts or not.’

‘That’s true,’ he agreed.

‘Well then, don’t keep the Foinse hidden away. It shouldn’t be a matter of privilege. Everyone should be able to see it. It would solve your problem of these soul keys if that were the case.’

He looked speculatively. ‘You’re a lot like your father.’

I blinked. I wasn’t expecting that. ‘What do you mean?’ I asked, carefully.

‘He always thought that power should be spread more evenly. He advocated opening the magical barrier and letting the Clan-less come and go as they please. The other species who work for us receive a higher wage, thanks to his efforts.’

Apart from Lily’s ramblings, this was the first time I’d heard someone say something positive about my father. ‘What was he like?’ I asked, suddenly desperate to know more.

‘He was a good man,’ Aifric said heavily. ‘A very good man. Better than the rest of us put together – but what he did was wrong. It changed the course of history, and not in a good way. But his wife, your mother, died during childbirth and he just couldn’t take it. He went mad.’ Something dark crossed his eyes. ‘Not like the Macquarries, you understand. Theirs was true insanity. No, something dark took hold of your father and wouldn’t let go.’

‘Like a demon?’

Aifric looked at me sympathetically. ‘I’ve heard that story too but it wasn’t that. It couldn’t have been.’ He shook himself. ‘Such a waste,’ he muttered.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear any more. ‘What about my mother?’ I asked.

He smiled, although his eyes were tinged with melancholy. ‘Everyone wanted your mother. She was truly beautiful, inside and out. There were a lot of happy men around the day she rejected the Bull. Of course, she only had eyes for your father.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘C’est la vie.’