Last Wish (Highland Magic #4)(65)

I couldn’t see Byron’s expression but a moment later he was lifting his father and throwing him into a fireman’s lift over his shoulder. Then, with his free hand, he grabbed mine and began to run, ploughing through the church and out to safety.

The bright morning seemed incongruous compared to the hell we’d left behind. Most of the others seemed to have moved a safe distance away. A few were still trying to put out the fire. There were still some pained grimaces in my direction.

A roar came from behind some small houses to the left and Candy appeared, carrying massive bundle of white fabric. It took me a moment to register that it was Tipsania. He bounded towards us, Brochan hot on his heels.

‘Bob!’ I yelled. ‘Show them where the boat is!’ There was a flash of blinding light and Bob appeared, bowing grandly in front of my face before taking off with the merman, the Wild Man and what could have been Little Bo Peep in his wake.

Byron lay his father on the ground. Aifric coughed, spluttered and rolled over to one side. I watched him for a brief moment; he’d be alright. ‘Taylor!’ I yelled, bending down and getting into his face. ‘Where is Taylor?’

Aifric didn’t answer and I cursed loudly. Was Taylor still alive?

There was a rumble as the timber roof of the church collapsed. Terrified that he was inside, I prepared to go back in if need be. Then I heard a shout from towards the back wall. With my cuffed hands in front of me, I ran as fast as I could.

Three bodies, Jamie and Angus standing over them. My heart in my mouth, I stumbled forward to Taylor’s prone form. I was shaking all over. Tears were leaking down my cheeks; whether they were from the smoke or because I thought Taylor was dead, I couldn’t have said.

‘He’s still breathing, Tegs,’ Angus said. He didn’t sound reassuring, despite his words. As I felt for my old mentor’s pulse and registered his shallow, heaving breaths and the sallowness of his skin, I knew the reason why. This was like Morna all over again; Taylor was dying. This time, however, I could do something about it and it was all thanks to Aifric. The tragic irony wasn’t lost on me.

I could only guess how the Gift of Healing worked. I ran my hands lightly across Taylor’s body, trying not to let the gaping wound in his torso stop me doing what needed to be done. His eyes were closed and, even without any medical training, I knew that he was at death’s door. Well, death could keep on knocking as far as I was concerned. Today, no one was going to answer.

I searched inside myself for the right magic and withdrew a delicate tendril. The last thing I wanted was to fill Taylor’s body with power and cause an overload. While Angus and Jamie watched, confused and probably assuming I was saying my goodbyes, I let the magic out to do its work.

An invisible thread sneaked across and wrapped around Taylor’s weak body. It bound him, spinning, working almost of its own volition. He moaned softly and Angus stiffened. I gnawed on my bottom lip, worried I was getting it wrong. Then I heard Byron’s voice behind me. ‘His cheeks.’

I jerked up my head. Byron was right: there was the faintest bloom of colour in Taylor’s cheeks. Emboldened, I drew out another wisp of magic and pushed it towards Taylor. His eyelids fluttered open and he blinked a few times before he focused on me. ‘Tegs,’ he breathed.

‘Shhh.’

‘Let me go.’

‘Ha! Fat chance. You’re not going anywhere.’

He frowned as if puzzled and I grinned. ‘Stop thinking about what you know and focus on what you feel.’

His white eyebrows creased together and he raised a hand to his stomach. ‘It doesn’t hurt.’

I nodded and pulled up his shirt. There was still a great deal of congealed blood but the wound had closed. I breathed once more.

Panic flared in Taylor’s eyes. ‘You didn’t. Not Bob.’

I patted his cheek. ‘No, you’ve got Aifric to thank for this.’ I snorted. ‘Although it’s the least he could do.’ Then I remembered that Byron was at my back and I faltered. I stood up and looked at Angus and Jamie. ‘Thank you.’

Jamie nodded awkwardly and thrust his hands into his pockets. Angus reached out and wrapped me in a hug. I pulled him close, realising too late that there was a scowl on Byron’s face. ‘This isn’t over yet,’ he warned, angling his eyes away from us.

I nodded and pulled away. Byron was right. ‘Speck and Lexie are in a boat off the shore. The others are already heading that way. Can you help Taylor get there?’

They nodded and picked him up. As they jogged away, I checked the other two bodies. Both seemed to have suffered from a series of right hooks and were out for the count; they’d have sore heads but they’d survive. I opened my mouth to say something about the state of their faces and then stopped. Taylor was alright and that was what counted for now.

I looked up. ‘Here come the pitchforks,’ I muttered. A mass of Sidhe were heading in our direction from the other side of the church. They seemed to have shaken off their shock and regrouped to confront us. Judging by the expressions on their faces, they weren’t looking for white flags; they still wanted vengeance.

Byron looked at them. ‘I can talk them round.’

I shook my head. ‘Emotions are running too high. You were right earlier: too many of them are still on your father’s side. And the evidence against me did look damning. We need to get out of here. Unless your Plan B…’