Last Wish (Highland Magic #4)(77)

The pixie answered, ‘Stabbed three Fomori and drank their blood.’ My mouth dropped open and I pulled away. She shrugged. ‘I was really hungry.’

I leaned my head against the stone wall of my new prison. The illusion of control indeed.





Chapter Eighteen


The food, if you could call it that, was still sitting uncomfortably in the pit of my stomach when they came for us. I made a last stab at negotiation. ‘Look,’ I said reasonably, ‘I have important information to impart. If you could take me to the guy in charge, I’m sure we can sort all this out.’

None of the many demons who were standing in the corridor and gawking at me answered.

‘Or gal in charge,’ I added. ‘If you lot are all about equal rights and it’s a woman who’s the boss, that’s great by me. I’ll talk to her too.’

All I got was silence then one of the demons, somewhat younger than the others, stretched out an inquisitive finger and poked me. He snatched his hand back and cackled. The demon next to him looked at it in awe. I was tempted to lunge towards him and see what effect that had but I had to make sure that none of these demons saw me as a threat. Frankly, from what she’d told me, the threat was the tiny pixie by my side. She was about as far removed from Lexie as it was possible to get.

We were taken to an open doorway. Peering out, I saw row upon row of demons arranged round a large open area where we were no doubt meant to fight. Hoardings, with lethal-looking spikes poking out, were in place around the audience, presumably to protect them from the evil they were here to watch.

There weren’t just Fomori in the crowd; I spotted various different races, including Sidhe. A frisson of fear ran down my spine; they were baying for my blood and I hadn’t even done anything. They hated me because of what I might do, not because of anything I had done. I wanted to march out there with my hands on my hips and tell them they were being ridiculous. Not that they’d hear me; now we were almost at the arena, the noise was deafening.

The surface of the arena was covered in grey-coloured sand. Here and there were dark patches; I knew without getting close that they were blood. I hissed through my teeth. There had been a lot of variables to consider before I crossed into the Lowlands but I hadn’t imagined anything like this.

There was a loud beating of wings. From this angle, it was difficult to see what was happening but the vast shadow of a winged Fomori was visible across the sand. I guessed he was someone important because the crowd immediately hushed. He began to speak, his harsh voice reverberating around the rickety stadium. He was the MC.

‘Hammer time,’ I whispered.

The pixie glanced at me. ‘They don’t let us have weapons,’ she informed me. ‘It’s not meant to be a fair fight.’

I nodded; an explanation at this point would be far too complicated. And pointless. As the MC demon droned on, and the guards at my back bounced around in a buzz of excited anticipation, I raised and lowered myself on my toes and cricked my neck. I couldn’t imagine just how shite things were about to get.

One of the demons shoved me hard in the small of my back, forcing me onto the arena floor. I stumbled forward, just catching myself from falling. The pixie followed. She might be a hardened killer but she was shaking. We both were.

I didn’t know how many eyes were on us but it seemed like hundreds. Everyone was silent, which was more frightening than the thunderous cheering I’d heard before. I swung round, taking in every inch of the crowd. The air was filled with hovering demons, all of whose attention was fixed on me. I ignored them for now. If this was like a Roman gladiatorial venue, there would be an obvious spot for the very important demons. As I turned to my left, I saw them.

There was a dais, elevated a few metres above the rest of the audience no doubt to keep the elite from being splattered with all that pesky blood or to protect their delicate nostrils from the smell. The combined body odours of all these Lowlanders rivalled the bucket in the cell.

Without the night vision that I assumed everyone else enjoyed, it was difficult to make out much about the demon leaders. There were six seated figures that possessed the same wiry, skeletal bodies as the rest of the Fomori. Beyond that, I couldn’t tell much more about them. I squinted, narrowing my eyes to see more, but it was a wasted effort.

There was a single harsh shout, which sounded like a heartfelt curse, from one of the audience members behind me. That yell opened the floodgates and they all began roaring and chanting again. Far too many tried to throw things. If the projectiles had been rotten eggs or squishy tomatoes that might have been okay but these were stones. With the force that they were being thrown, I’d only need to be hit once in the wrong place and I’d be a goner.

I bobbed and dodged. A small pebble glanced off my shoulder – it still bloody hurt. The pixie yelled, a figure of unmitigated fury. I had to admire her tenacity. She whirled round while I ducked yet another missile.

Just as I was starting to think we’d be stoned to death, a loud horn sounded. The stone hurling stopped and a loud cheer ran round the crowd. They began to stamp their feet, one after the other in perfect timing.

‘Here it comes,’ the pixie muttered.

There was a shudder from the other end of the arena and I saw a rusty-looking gate heave upwards. A furious bellow from the dark corridor beyond was followed by a snort. I licked my lips. ‘What is that?’