Last Wish (Highland Magic #4)(76)

‘You’re to take the food,’ the pixie said. ‘It’ll help you in the arena.’

I blinked and stared. That was food? It looked like ? fungus. The demon glared and yelled something. Helplessly, I took the tray.

‘She doesn’t like you,’ the pixie offered.

‘I kinda got that.’

‘You killed her niece.’

I almost dropped the tray. ‘Excuse me?’

She shrugged. ‘That’s what she says.’

I looked wide-eyed at the demon. I’d never killed anyone; I was never going to kill anyone. She spat at me and backed away, not taking her eyes from me until the door was closed again.

‘The more dead Fomori the better,’ the pixie said.

I didn’t have a response to that. I huddled down with the tray, sniffing cautiously at the brown and grey lumps.

‘We are lucky. They feed us well before the arena. They want us to be strong enough to give them a good show.’

I grinned, thinking she was making a joke then I realised she was being serious. Sobering up, I avoided looking at her, lifted the crude cup and took a sip. It was definitely water. It tasted even fouler than the stuff I’d been given when I’d been held at the Steward’s pleasure. I tried not to think too hard about where it had come from and steeled myself to try the food. It helped that I was ravenously hungry.

I picked up the oddly carved spoon and gingerly tasted. It wasn’t as bad as I’d feared – just mildly salty – but the texture was off-putting, something between the sludge that collects underneath drainpipes and wallpaper paste. I had serious doubts whether it had any nutritional value. Then again, the same could be said for my normal diet of Irn Bru and salt-and-vinegar crisps. One day I’d learn to eat my greens but apparently not today.

I forced down the lot. As soon as I put down the eating utensil, the door was opened again. I was expecting the same angry demon as before but this time it was a different face. Two different faces, in fact.

‘Watch out,’ the pixie muttered. ‘This one can tell truth from lies.’

Interesting. That was at least one other Gift which had transferred to the Fomori.

The other demon, a pockmarked male with a sunken chest, kept his distance. He barked something at me. Unable to understand, I shook my head. He hissed and pointed at the pixie. She sighed. ‘He wants to know how much magic you have,’ she said.

Nonplussed, I frowned. ‘Er … quite a bit?’

She translated for me. The demon glowered and clenched his fists. He shouted at her. ‘How many magics,’ she corrected.

‘Oh. You mean how many Gifts?’ I considered. I supposed I had just the one: stealing. I said as much, holding up a single finger for emphasis. The pixie translated.

The demon’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. He stepped forward, his fist raised. His companion touched his arm and murmured something in his ear.

‘She says you’re telling the truth,’ my cell-mate informed me.

At this, he scratched his head. He looked as if he’d been given a simple sum to complete that somehow wouldn’t add up. He wrinkled his nose then lifted his knobbly shoulders. He yelled a few words, wheeled round and they both left.

I frowned after them. ‘Didn’t he want to know what my Gift … I mean, my magic … is?’

The pixie didn’t seem to care. ‘He already knows,’ she replied carelessly. ‘He told the others to make sure the arena fliers are overhead and at all the exits to stop you.’

‘Stop me from what?’

She glanced at me as if I were slightly mad. ‘Using your Gift.’

Now I was even more confused. Of course, they were under the impression that my Gift was something other than stealing. Last time I was here I’d used that strange dark cloud magic to make my escape. I’d used other magic too but, as far as the demons were concerned, that was the one they had evidence of because they’d seen me use it. Perhaps they thought Byron had created the Illusion of his body still in chains so he could fool them for long enough to run away. I couldn’t see how some winged demons would make a difference against a heavy choking poisonous cloud, however. I didn’t recollect it doing anything other than skimming the ground and rising up perhaps three or four metres. Some odd, nebulous thought tugged at the back of my mind, demanding attention. Unfortunately, before the idea was fully formed, it vanished again. Stupid synapses.

‘What does the brain do when it sees its best friend?’ I asked.

The pixie looked at me from under her eyelashes.

‘Gives it a brain wave.’ I smirked.

Instead of laughing, she looked dejected. ‘You’re not the one we’ve been waiting for at all.’

Everyone was a hater. ‘Guess not,’ I mumbled.

Outside, the arena crowd gave a roar. This time it was so loud I felt the vibrations beneath me. ‘We’re getting close,’ she said. ‘They’re building up to the main event.’

I licked my lips. ‘Us?’

‘Yes.’ She stared into the distance. ‘I suppose I should be proud that they’re putting me out there with you, even if you’re not the saviour. They only hold these events twice a year so there are a lot of fights and executions to get through. I’ve been kept waiting for a long time.’

I put my arm round her little shoulders. Poor thing. She deserved better than my jokes. She deserved better than this. ‘What did you do to end up here?’ I asked softly, not really expecting a response.