Wraith(99)

My mouth was inexplicably dry. ‘I feel the same. In everything.’

Gabriel suddenly smiled, dazzling me. He pulled me against him and, with his arms wrapped around me, I felt more safe, more comfortable and more happy than I’d ever thought I had the right to feel. It was nuts – but it was right.

The door burst open. ‘Saiya!’

Gabriel muttered a curse but when we realised who had interrupted us, we relaxed. Becky was standing there with a smiling Ange and a rather more worried Rymark hovering behind.

Becky beamed at the pair of us. ‘Thank you! Thank you so much!’ She darted towards me for a hug. I managed a tight squeeze. Perhaps I really was getting better at this human contact thing.

‘You saved us,’ Ange said. ‘You’ve saved Stirling.’

I coughed awkwardly. The last thing I wanted or needed was to be touted as the hero of this story. Even with Gabriel by my side, I enjoyed anonymity.

Sensing my discomfort, Gabriel stepped into the breach. ‘Actually,’ he murmured, ‘the real saviour was Marrock. He created the tunnels. Without him, none of this would have been possible.’ He glanced at me, as if checking that he was doing the right thing. He understood me better than he realised.

‘Yes,’ I nodded. ‘Marrock might have died but we should sing his name from every rooftop in Stirling. He achieved the impossible.’

Becky’s brow creased but Ange gently squeezed her elbow and her daughter shrugged. ‘We should build a statue to him then.’

I grinned. ‘We should.’

‘Can we all stay here now? Can we live in Stirling?’

‘We can.’ Gabriel’s arm rested across my shoulders. ‘If this is your home, Saiya, then this is where I want to be. You were right before. There’s a lot of work to be done to make this city everything it should be.’

Sally bustled in with an unsmiling Martin trailing in her wake. ‘You bet your bony arses there’s a lot of work.’ She waggled her finger at the teenager. ‘He’s coming with me to make up for hitting me over the head. Honestly! He’s lucky I’m not pressing charges. To make up for his actions, he’s going to spend the next six months getting my garden back up to scratch, then there’s decorating that needs to be done. And I’ve heard there’s some godawful Death Worm carcass laying out in the open just a few streets away from my home that needs clearing up. You, my boy, are going to be spending the rest of your teenage years making amends.’

‘You can’t force me to stay with you now,’ Martin muttered, but the corners of his mouth were crooking up into an involuntary smile.

I sighed happily. There was a roar of approval from the gathered crowd outside. Whatever James was saying, it was clearly going down well.

‘You know what I think?’ Gabriel said. I raised my eyebrows at him questioningly. He kissed me gently on the lips and gazed into my eyes. ‘You can only appreciate the light when you understand the shadows. One doesn’t come without the other.’

I leant forward and kissed him. He was right. No matter who we were, shadows surrounded us. We had to deal with them in good ways and in bad but that didn’t mean we couldn’t love the light that life bestowed on us too. The fallout of the last three years was going to be considerable, and there might still be plenty of darkness to come, but the light was growing brighter by the second.




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Author’s note


I’ve been fascinated by the Stone of Scone ever since I first heard of its existence. Although it is fictionalised for the purposes of this novel, there is a real Stone of Scone, also known as the Stone of Destiny, and its legend extends back to biblical times.

Traditionally, the Stone has been used as an integral part in Scottish – and later English – coronations because, at the tail end of the thirteenth century, it was captured by Edward I and transported to Westminster Abbey in London, England. However, rumours abounded even then that the English had been fooled by a substitute stone and that the real thing was still hidden in Scotland.

Much more recently, in the 1950s, a group of Scottish students stole the Stone of Scone from Westminster in order to return it to Scotland. Eventually it was recovered and brought back to England but yet again there were rumours that the returned Stone was a forgery.

Finally, in 1996, the British government allowed the Stone of Scone to be moved to Edinburgh where it currently resides, alongside the Scottish crown jewels. Whether it’s genuine article or not, no one can say for sure.