Last Wish (Highland Magic #4)(7)
‘You can’t compel him unless you’re face to face, and you can’t do that without him realising that you’re still alive.’
True. ‘Then I’ll meet him face to face. I’ll command him to keep my resurrection a secret.’
Taylor shook his head. ‘You’re putting too much faith in your ability to bend the Bull to your will. There are ways around those sorts of things. He could still drop enough hints to Aifric to make him doubt your death.’
‘I’m not sure the Bull is that intelligent.’ I realised I was casting aspersions on Tipsania’s father but she wasn’t listening. She was too wrapped up in her own panic and worry, pacing up and down and causing various haggis to flee out of her path with alarmed squeaks.
Brochan folded his arms. ‘You can’t take that chance.’
‘Much as I hate to say it, Tegs,’ Speck interjected, ‘I think he’s right. And we all know that you’re not concerned because of Tipsania. You should let Byron go.’
Lexie frowned. ‘Why should she?’
‘Well, for one thing he thinks she’s dead.’
‘That can be easily solved,’ she scoffed.
Somehow I doubted that. Even if I told Byron the truth, he’d probably never speak to me again. ‘This is about more than Byron,’ I said, not sure whether I was being honest with myself or not. ‘Something must be up for the wedding to be going ahead in Tipsania’s absence. We can’t allow Aifric’s machinations to continue and we need to know exactly what he’s up to. Knowledge is power, people.’
Bob beamed. ‘Indeed it is! I am a supremely knowledgeable being. It’s only natural that you’d want to be as wise and knowing as I am.’ Nobody acknowledged him but it didn’t seem to matter. He snapped his fingers, magicking up a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles and a mortar board.
‘Much as I hate to say it,’ Morna said, ‘I think this is worth investigating. Aifric Moncrieffe never does anything without good reason. Something worrying is going on here and it would pay to know what. It would be nice to think that you can hide here for the rest of your days but it’s completely unrealistic.’ She nodded. ‘We can kill two birds with one stone: find out what’s going on with the wedding, and make sure you have a decent enough handle on your Thievery Gift.’
Before the others could protest again, I said, ‘So it’s settled. And who knows? Maybe we’ll find what we need to bring Aifric down for good. We can get in touch with Angus, too. He might have other insights we can use.’ Suddenly, I felt buoyant with optimism. I clapped my hands. ‘Now all we need is a plan.’
Taylor looked as if he wanted to argue some more but in the end he just sighed. ‘We need to be sensible and make sure the odds are in our favour. The longer everyone believes in your death, the better.’ He jerked his chin at Brochan. ‘I think that has to include the Bull, too.’
May squeaked, no doubt sensing my excitement and I grinned in response. This could end up being a lot more fun than leaving the safety of the Adair Lands just to make a phone call. ‘No problem.’
***
It felt like a lifetime since I’d last been in Aberdeen. It was like returning to an old friend – albeit one who’d been in the wars since I’d last seen them. From the foot of the main parade at Union Street the evidence of the Fomori demon attacks was still painfully visible. Many of the grey granite buildings were scarred and there appeared to be a healthy trade in scaffolding. All the same, a deep satisfaction uncurled within my chest; it really was good to be back.
For the time being, we’d gone the old-fashioned route. Not for nothing had I spent my formative teenage years practising the art of thievery on the streets. I’d learnt how to blend in. It wasn’t about wearing a hat and big sunglasses, it was about attitude. So while my long white hair was completely covered, my skin was temporarily darkened and my face was in shadow, I also held myself differently. Rather than projecting the image of an all-powerful Sidhe Chieftain who cared nothing for the opinion of others, I’d chosen to take on the persona of a slick trophy wife.
Anyone who’s never had to disguise themselves won’t get it. Amateurs always believe that the best way to conceal yourself is to hunch over and fade into the background. The truth is that there are very few people capable of successfully pulling off that kind of feat. Even my years of slinking around the corridors of the Bull’s mansion and trying to avoid being noticed hadn’t made me an expert at it. Misdirection is far easier. As far as anyone who saw me knew, I was a rich woman who cared far too much about her appearance. My tight, expensive clothes and showy designer headscarf were as much about creating a picture as providing a disguise. With the obvious strut in my step and the way I thrust out my chest, even people I knew would be hard pressed to believe I was anything other than what I presented. Although my posture meant that my lower back was beginning to twinge, the high heels I was wearing made me feel rather sexy. It was a real shame they weren’t pink. Even with my supposed demise, pink would have been too dangerous.
‘Admit it, Uh Integrity,’ Bob murmured in my ear, ‘right now you think you’re pretty hot.’
Just then a car passed by with a scruffy-looking warlock in the passenger seat. He leaned out and leered at me. I smiled. ‘I don’t think, Bob,’ I murmured. ‘I know.’ It was true; looking like this was about self-belief. As Bob himself could attest if he were introspective enough, ego was vital to any fa?ade.