Last Wish (Highland Magic #4)(24)

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?’

I licked my dry lips, trying to find my voice. ‘You don’t know?’

‘No,’ she replied pleasantly as my veins buzzed with the truth of her answer. Her comment about the Adairs was nothing more than coincidence. I almost sagged to the floor in a puddle of relief. She glanced at me curiously as I angled my face away. ‘Have we met?’

I opened my mouth to answer but fortunately I was interrupted by someone calling to her from across the room. She turned, her arm brushing against my body and her Gift – whatever it was – immediately spoke to me. Like a pickpocket with invisible hands, I responded.

I gasped faintly while she stalled and pressed her hand to her forehead. ‘Goodness,’ she said, ‘I suddenly feel rather light-headed. Do excuse me. I think I’d better sit down.’ She walked away with small, uncertain steps, leaving me and the painting alone.

Bob whistled in my ear. ‘That was close, Uh Integrity.’

Yeah. It really had been. I reminded myself of everything I’d learnt while growing up with Taylor. People saw what they were expecting to see – and she wasn’t expecting to see Integrity Adair because Integrity was dead. Therefore she saw a stranger rather than me. I’d do well to remember that.

I turned slowly. If I could steal that woman’s Gift in plain view of everyone else then I could certainly steal more. Buoyed up, I got to work.

I avoided the elderly male Sidhe crossing my path, unsure what stealing from someone so advanced in age might do, and picked on a simpering man who was giving detailed instructions to a servant. ‘I want a glass of water,’ he ordered. ‘Room temperature, no ice. A slice of lemon cut diagonally and placed on the rim so that…’

I closed my eyes momentarily and snatched a fistful of his magic. He staggered as I turned away.

Wandering in from a nearby door were three giggling girls. ‘Did you see her face?’ the middle one cackled.

I stole from her first, pulling at the threads of her magic and drawing them into me. When she froze mid-step and her two companions stopped to check on her, I stole from them too.