Bloodstone (10 page)

‘Give us some peanuts, love? Please.’

‘Salted,’ I added, with my warmest smile.

As she turned her back to get them, he shot me a glower. ‘I wish you wouldn’t do that.’

‘Do what?’

‘You played with her head.’

‘Look who’s talking.’ I nodded at her, chatting up a roughneck at the other end of the long bar. She’d forgotten not only the peanuts, but the pair of us.

‘All I did was take her mind off you. Put things back to normal. Don’t make me have to do that.’

‘I hate going out drinking with you.’

‘Aye, right.’ He grinned suddenly and clinked his glass against mine. ‘Here’s to the Bloodstone. Which this one
undoubtedly
is.’

‘Ha ha.’ I took a long swallow. The beer tasted faintly of sun-toasted heather. Hell, these days anything could make me homesick. ‘And I can’t believe you’re having
a go at me, given what your goddaughter gets up to.’

His eyes hardened, but they slewed a little away from mine. ‘Leave her be.’

‘Leave her be? I told you what she did to that Rooney girl.’

‘Shush.’ He glanced at the nearest group of drinkers. ‘That was a one-off.’

‘No, Conal. No it wasn’t. You know what it was? It was a
start
.’

‘She’ll settle down.’

‘No. Not until she understands what she is and why she can do what she does. If it’s not explained to her, she’ll do it again. And again. She can’t control herself, and
though it pains me to admit it, that’s
not her fault.
She doesn’t know what to control. Or why. She’ll turn out a witch, Conal.’

‘They don’t burn those any more.’

‘No indeed. She’s more likely to hurt somebody else.’

‘No. No, she wouldn’t. It’s not in her.’

I could only stare at him and shake my head.

He set his glass down so carefully, I knew he was trying not to fling it at me. ‘Look, for the fifty-hundredth time, it’s not up to me. She has a mother and it’s Stella’s
decision. I can’t go against that.’

‘You’re her Captain!’

He gave me a wry look. ‘I don’t think Stella recognises that any more. Do you? Listen, Finn’s got a friend now. That boy sees her better than most. I don’t know why, but
he does.’

‘That boy’s a feral thug. And a thief.’

‘No. He’s a thief, but he’s not a thug. He’s got a good heart. He’ll be good for Finn.’

And how could he be so sure? I shook my head, but I left it. ‘You remember what you always told me? We’re inconspicuous, not invisible. We’ll slip from their minds, but only if
we keep our heads down.’ I nodded at the drinkers again. ‘Finn won’t slip from anybody’s mind if she kills somebody.’

‘She couldn’t,’ he said stubbornly. ‘It won’t come to that.’

I found I couldn’t look at him. Whose child was she, for gods’ sake? Her whole ancestral gene pool was muddied with the blood of enemies. And he didn’t think she was capable of
killing?

Hell’s teeth. My brother’s belief in humanity. To stop myself yelling at him, I turned my head. I was about to take another drink but I paused with the glass at my lips.
‘Gocaman,’ I said.

Conal started. ‘What?’

The tramp had come in through the front door on a gust of cold breeze, stopping to tip his leather hat back from his eyes and squint at us through his sellotaped glasses. He came straight to the
bar and stood between us.

We watched him, a little wary. It wasn’t like him to leave his post in the woods, and he didn’t look happy. Mind you, he never did. Surly bugger.

‘Gocaman,’ said Conal. ‘Drink?’

He shook his head, almost dislodging his glasses, and readjusted them irritably. ‘You’d better be leaving yours.’ His voice was croaky from disuse. ‘Someone has breached
the watergate.’

Conal shut one eye. ‘That’s bad. But isn’t it your problem?’

‘Certainly your problem if you let one through,’ I added. ‘What’s it to do with us?’

‘Everything.’ Gocaman cracked a smile. ‘Wasn’t no Lammyr. And I wasn’t about to stop
her
.’

I swear it took a few seconds to sink in, while we stared at each other in dawning horror.

‘Shit,’ hissed Conal, standing up so suddenly he swayed.

I got two more swallows out of my beer. And then I was at his heels, and running for our weapons and our home.

My whole being knew I was back where I belonged. The air crowded into my lungs, crackled against my skin. Bubbles of it hit my brain and raced into my blood, and home howled
and bayed inside me as it always did:
What took you so long?

Conal looked too preoccupied to enjoy it. ‘Where’s your horse got to?’

I shrugged, slapped the glossy flank of his black. ‘Killing something, I expect. Where’s your mother? More to the point, where’s your goddaughter?’

As soon as we were inside Tornashee we’d known there was more wrong than we’d realised. Leonora was gone, and that we’d expected, but Finn too was gone from the otherworld. Not
a trace of her left, not even her mind, though Conal had hunted wildly for that when he could ransack the house and grounds no more. Nothing. She was dead, or she was with Leonora, and Conal
refused to contemplate either option.

‘It’s a coincidence,’ he said. ‘It has to be.’

‘She wasn’t on that side, Conal. At. All.’

‘She could have been blocking...’

‘She doesn’t know how.’ I left the criticism hanging unsaid; he looked tormented enough.

‘Gocaman would know if she’d gone through.’

‘Gocaman came to the pub for us as soon as Leonora went past him. And you know as well as I do Finn used to spy on your mother. She watched her going out at night. Wasn’t hard to
work out where she’d been, with all that mud on her breeks. Finn’s followed the old bat and she’s been pulled through the watergate, intentionally or otherwise. She’s gone,
Conal.’

He was too unhappy even to rise to
old bat.
‘Finn’s forbidden to go there. It’s out of bounds and she knows it.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Yep, that always works. Always did it for me. Listen, why don’t you go on?’

‘I’ll have to, if the roan doesn’t show soon.’

‘That’s okay.’ I wasn’t too pleased myself, but I wasn’t about to admit that in front of Conal. If the roan was a delinquent, he was my delinquent. We’d
delayed enough by going back to Tornashee to collect our weapons and packs. The gods knew where Leonora was by now. It looked to me like a lost cause, trying to talk her out of returning and
staying in the otherworld; I wouldn’t let anyone do it to me, not once home was back in my bloodstream. Besides, even Leonora didn’t have the willpower to stay alive forever. But Conal
was desperate. I couldn’t blame him.

‘Go ahead, then,’ I told him. ‘It might be better if we split up anyway. We can rendezvous later.’

‘Don’t block, then.’ He flicked the black’s reins to turn it. ‘You’ve been kind of obstructive lately.’

I winked at him. ‘Shouldn’t be so nosy.’

He grinned, and nudged the black to a gallop.

I watched him for a few seconds, a worm of guilt gnawing at my gut. There had always been things we kept from each other. It would be odd if there weren’t. And I didn’t think
he’d see the joke where my adolescent Kate-dreams were concerned. Not that I did, either. I wished I didn’t look forward to them, and I wished I felt more remorse afterwards.

And I very much wished I could stop worrying about it. For gods’ sake, it wasn’t serious.

I forgot Kate, and dreams of Kate, when something prickled in the nape of my neck, something that might have been familiar or perhaps just opaquely threatening. And a few seconds later, there
were distant hoofbeats.

I didn’t like to test the unseen riders’ minds with my own; that would have been a dead giveaway. I’d just have to wait and see, so I drew back into the copse of wizened
rowans, trusting them to shield my mind while I unsheathed my sword. Gods, it was good to see it back in its proper world again. It glowed and quivered like a live thing, catching the last
twilight, as if it too was happy to be home.

I was so busy admiring it I didn’t realise the sound of horses had not only drawn closer, one of them had stopped. I didn’t like horses that could be so silent. Well, I liked it that
mine could, but this one wasn’t the roan. Its partner had galloped on, but this one, or its rider, had sensed me. Uneasily I edged closer to the brink of the rowans.

Steel whispered past my ear. My mind was open in an instant, luckily for the big English twit. I spun round, batting his sword away from my face.

‘Torc, you bloody lout! Nearly had my head off!’

Torc’s blade trailed an arc in front of him, as lazy as his grin. ‘Shouldn’t sneak up, Murlainn.’

‘I’m not the one who – oh, what the hell.’ I returned his grin, then stepped clear of the rowans. Sionnach had swerved and ridden back fast; he was off the grey before it
had clattered to a halt, and giving me a happy ferocious hug.

‘Murlainn, you infidel hound!’

I had to submit to a hug from Torc too, though it nearly crushed the breath from my lungs. I slapped his ribcage as I drew away, and in return he whacked my skull fondly.

I rubbed my ringing head. ‘Sight for sore eyes, the pair of youse. What are you doing this far over?’

Sionnach shrugged. ‘The usual.’

‘Kate’s boys and girls have been misbehaving,’ added Torc. ‘And last night, of course, we get a summons from her ladyship Leonora. I assume that’s why you’re
here, shortarse.’ He winked.

I shot him a glower, but my heart wasn’t in it. I was too happy to see them. ‘Yes, damn her eyes. We go out for one lousy drink, which we richly deserve, and the old bat sneaks
through the watergate.’

‘Well, she’s with Eili now.’ Sionnach raised his eyes heavenwards.

Torc grinned. ‘Yeah, and they’re giving each other an earful. We came out to look for you guys. Not that we were worried. Just wanted some peace, y’know?’

‘Oh gods, do I know.’

‘And where’s Conal?’

‘Went to look for his mother. He’s probably with her and Eili by now.’

Sionnach’s version of a dirty smirk was distorted by his scars. ‘At least that’ll shut my sister up.’

I raised an eyebrow and grinned. ‘Not in front of the child, I hope.’

And Sionnach said, ‘What child?’

If I’d been blood-related to Finn I could have found traces of her mind and I’d have known roughly which direction to take, but I wasn’t, and I didn’t.
Since she hadn’t caught up with her grandmother, she could be anywhere. The only thing we could do was ride hard to where Eili was waiting, and hope for the best.

I knew that baby would be trouble from her first blood-curdling squall.

I rode behind Sionnach on his horse; it wasn’t the size of Torc’s huge iron-grey but it was big enough. When I’d gripped Sionnach’s arm and swung up behind him, the
creature had plunged and bucked for four or five paces, but then gathered its dignity and raced on. It knew me, and its acquiescence made me even more resentful of the roan. What was the beast
playing at? It had been a few years, for sure, but there were times when I was sorry about the independence of that horse’s mind. Imagine making such a strenuous effort to dodge me, even when
it was drawn relentlessly by my calling.

~
I suspect
, Sionnach pointed out dryly,
~ that it has prey.

~ Still and all. It’s an ill-schooled disobedient brat.

~ Ah, your brother was so right about that horse and you. You’re made for each other.

He didn’t turn, but I knew he was laughing. I couldn’t help grinning too.
~ I’ll let that one go. What’s with the detour?

He’d nudged his grey to the east and south; we were skirting the edge of a pinewood and cutting down a rough track. This wasn’t the way to the rendezvous he’d mentioned.

~
Dughall Reid. If anyone’s seen anything of your Finn, it’ll be him.

‘Might even have taken her in,’ shouted Torc cheerfully from behind.

‘Gods help him. And she isn’t my Finn.’

Sionnach reined in his horse hard. ‘What—’

‘I said she isn’t my Finn. Gods forbid.’

But I saw straight away that wasn’t Sionnach’s point.