Last Wish (Highland Magic #4)(22)
Bob just groaned.
***
As it was the seat of power of the Highlands, the Cruaich borders were simple to cross. All Sidhe were granted admittance automatically and there were simply too many people of all backgrounds and ethnicities passing back and forth for strict rules to be maintained. Perhaps it was arrogance, too; except for the Fomori demons’ incursion earlier in the year, no one had attacked the Cruaich for decades. If they had done, they’d have found themselves up against a considerable number of Gifted Sidhe – and no wanted those sorts of hordes after them. The Sidhe Clans were adept at keeping everyone else in their place.
All the same, I wanted to stay hidden. Long before I reached the border, I abandoned the car in favour of walking, skulking around like a shadow, flitting in and out of the trees that led towards the main Cruaich driveway. While I couldn’t expect the Bull to maintain his silence forever, I didn’t think he would have already passed on tales of my ‘ghost’. It would take him a while to realise that what he’d seen was wholly corporeal and alive. At least for now, I could count on being unexpected and I had to make as much use of that as I could.
The first group of people who passed me were humans heading up towards the main castle. They looked nervous and their heads were bowed in conversation as they walked. No doubt they were petitioning the council on some matter. I wished them well but they weren’t the sort of people I needed.
I hung back until they were out of sight then kept on going and eventually crossed the border itself. My skin buzzed faintly with the magic but my Sidhe blood kept it at bay easily. Staying alert, I skirted away from the drive, continuing to use the trees as cover but staying near enough to the road to see who was on it.
I’d barely gone a hundred feet when a lone Sidhe came wandering down, hands in pockets and expression distant. A Labrador trotted by his side, which immediately made me warm to him. Then I reminded myself why I was here and concentrated on stealing whatever Gift he had.
Nothing happened. I kept pace with him and concentrated harder. I could see the magic inside him but, when I called to it, it refused to come. The first vestiges of panic swirled inside me. I’d always been confused by my strange Gift of theft, even if it made sense considering what I used to do for my day job. I’d come to rely on it and to expect it to work at my bidding; the thought that it might have deserted me was worrying. I focused, feeling pressure behind my skull. Still nothing happened. What was going on?
I reached into the sheath which hung at my waist and carefully drew out Bob’s letter opener. He spent more time out of it than inside it these days but he was prepared to hide in there to avoid listening to any more of my quips. I waited until I was completely alone again and then rubbed the blade with my sleeve.
There was a familiar flash of light and Bob blinked into existence. ‘I need your help,’ I hissed.
‘You want your last wish?’ He drew himself up with quivering excitement. ‘Well, that’s worth abandoning Buffy the Vampire Slayer for.’ He clapped his hands. ‘Do you want Byron to suffocate in his sleep? Or something a little more violent? I can arrange for castration…’
I winced. ‘No. Listen, it’s—’
‘Massacre everyone in the Cruaich?’
‘Jeez, Bob. How many times do I have to tell you that I won’t resort to that kind of thing? I’m not psychotic.’
He pursed his lips. ‘It’d be fair retribution for what happened to your Clan. Revenge isn’t psychotic, Uh Integrity, it’s noble. This world has been built on the pillars of revenge.’ He snapped his fingers, creating a miniature floating pulpit that he climbed on to. ‘Think Caesar,’ he intoned with a grandiose flourish. ‘Think Charles IX, the forty-seven Ronin, Operation Wrath of God.’ His eyes gleamed. ‘Think Lorena Bobbit.’ He lowered his voice in a knowing aside. ‘Guess which one of those I had a hand in!’
‘Bob!’ I snapped. ‘Pay attention!’
The miniature pulpit vanished. ‘Go on then.’
‘I just tried to steal the Gift from a passing Sidhe. It didn’t work.’ I tried not to sound too anxious. ‘Is something wrong with me?’
Bob regarded me seriously. ‘I wouldn’t even know where to begin, Uh Integrity. We’ve had words already about your dress sense. Then there are those jokes…’
I ground my teeth. ‘Bob.’
He grinned. ‘No, you are the same as always.’
‘Then why couldn’t I steal from him?’
‘As you keep saying, you abhor violence regardless of how sensible and fulfilling it can be. The Sidhe probably had a violent Gift. Thus proving that if you concentrated harder, you could probably tell what each person’s Gift was. Your subconscious knows, so you just need to tap into that.’
Could Bob be right? ‘Okay,’ I said slowly. ‘Let’s try that theory. Point me in the direction of more Sidhe.’
He cocked his head. ‘Is that your wish?’
‘Call it a favour.’
‘In return I would like…’ He fell silent at the expression on my face. ‘Fine,’ he muttered. He jerked his head to the right. ‘There’s a group about two hundred metres away.’
‘That wasn’t so difficult now, was it?’
He stuck out his tongue.