Bloodstone (28 page)

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Authors: Gillian Philip

BOOK: Bloodstone
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White rage and grief, creeping up my spine to the nape of my neck. The boy watched me like he’d watch a cobra with its hood up, and I realised he had reason. I blinked it back.
Ah,
Murlainn, be careful. Don’t go too far. Don’t lose yourself.

Not entirely...

I smiled more easily. ‘Ah, Mila was crumbling in front of my eyes, and you were a much better bet. Besides, I had my work cut out keeping her hidden.’

‘You...’

My smile mutated into a smug grin. This I was proud of. ‘Yes, I helped, course I did. Do you seriously think you’d have escaped the authorities’ notice as long as you did if it
hadn’t been for me? It’s a small town! That nosy bitch of a landlady was quite a challenge, let me tell you. As for you and your endless thieving... oh, you made life difficult.’
I was watching Jed’s eyes very intently. ‘You were good, you really were, but you weren’t quite as good as you thought you were. Say, “Thank you, Seth”.’

Jed put his head in his hands.

‘Okay, I’ll do it.’ I widened my eyes and mimicked a child. ‘“Thank you, Seth”.’

Jed looked back up at me, hands over his mouth. He wanted to be sick, but I knew he was too cold for that. Stone-cold.

‘Jesus,’ he choked at last.

‘She was lovely, your mother. Could have been the saving of me. Ah, well. Good mother, too, wasn’t she?’ A hint of bitterness entered my voice. ‘To you, if not to my
son.’

‘Yes,’ whispered Jed.

That’s right, Cuilean. Look at me, beautiful and heartless. She fell for me, loved me, followed me. And I abandoned her.

‘You’re the reason we left the commune.’

‘Yup. Mack threw her out when she got involved with me. She knew what I was, by the way. She was scared of our child even as it grew in her belly. Scared of that sickly thing! Afterwards
she almost forgot he existed, but she never forgot me. I wasn’t enough,’ I said again, viciously, ‘but she never forgot.’

He was having trouble breathing. ‘You should have left her alone.’

‘Of course I should.’ I lifted one shoulder idly. ‘But I liked your mother. I liked her a lot. Perhaps I loved her a little, if I’m capable of such a thing.’

‘No,’ said Jed.

I ignored that. I ignored the spike of pain it put in my gut. ‘I did try to put a stop to it.’

‘Yes. Left her. And you know what she ended up with, don’t you?’ For a moment his face was terrifyingly emotionless, and something deep inside me shuddered. ‘After you
dumped her? That
thing
came after her. Because of you.’ Jed raised his eyes to mine. ‘You know what you left her to and you did nothing. You didn’t save her from
Skinsh...’ His voice died. He couldn’t finish the name.

I gazed into the fire. I decided not to speak for a while. When I did open my mouth again, I pretended I hadn’t heard that part.

‘She got pregnant. Believe me, no-one was more surprised than I was.’

‘You stupid bastard.’

‘Hah! I suppose that does sound stupid to you, but it’s not easy for a Sithe. I panicked. A half-breed child! I didn’t think he’d survive long. They don’t. How was
I to know I’d fathered Leonora’s precious Stone? And I didn’t know, not till Cuthag came today.’

‘You knew you were his father. You knew that and you left us—’

‘I know. But you’re a boy who spends his life running. Let me tell you, you’d run a lot faster if some benighted soothsayer had laid out your life five hundred years in
advance.’ Thoughtfully I examined the alleged lifeline on my palm. ‘I wonder if all her prophecies are going to be so blatantly self-fulfilling? I don’t suppose I would have
fathered the child if we hadn’t been in the otherworld for so long. Wasn’t the first time I’d got lonely.’

‘When Mum found out I knew your family...’ Jed sounded as if he was speaking from an echo-chamber, as if his whole soul was a great hollow cavern. ‘She told me to go to you. If
I was ever in trouble.’

‘Really?’

‘She told me to go to Finn’s uncle.’ His face twisted with contempt. ‘I thought she meant Conal.’

‘Naturally. Strange it wasn’t Conal, isn’t it? He’d be a much more suitable sire. And much as he loves Eili, he has not been faithful for four hundred years.’

‘Conal.’ Jed took a painful breath. ‘Does he know?’

‘Only just.’ Irritably I touched my eye again. ‘How shall I put it? He wasn’t happy. But it was time I owned up. He didn’t know about me and your mother, you see. I
can still keep secrets from my brother, and he has far too many scruples to probe against my will.’

‘He’s got too much respect for you,’ spat Jed.

‘Oh, way too much. He’s so upfront and honest! Well, he knows now, and so do you. He was adamant about that, by the way, so blame him if this is too much information. What does it
make me, I wonder? Your uncle-in-law? Stepfather once removed?’

‘It makes you a—’

‘No.’ I parried Jed’s flying fist. ‘No, you won’t do that to me twice. You’ll find no-one ever does anything to me twice, Jed. Now, let’s not wake the
neighbours, shall we?’

Jed staggered to his feet. Helplessly he looked at Sionnach and Torc, but they were so deeply unconscious, even their breathing wasn’t obvious. Liath sprawled on the timber floor, well out
of it, her sides barely rising and falling.

There was no help for him here; not so much as a sympathetic murmur. He couldn’t stand it; I hadn’t expected him to. Grabbing his sweater he twisted it in his fingers as if he wished
it was my neck.

He’d have liked to say something, but there was no way he could curse me foully enough. All he could do was turn on his heel, and run from the bothy.

 

 

The flames were dying and the fire was cold; I felt the bite of frost, the breath of Outside, but I knew it was imagination, I knew it was all in my heart and soul.

I put out a hand for Branndair to lick. He waited a long reproachful moment before he finally shuffled to me, nudging his head under my hand. The ends of my fingers were numb; I raked them into
his thick neck-fur, trying to absorb his warmth so I could feel them again.

He laid his black head on my lap, mourning the loss of me.

‘Well, my only love,’ I said. ‘Will you come with me anyway?’

PART FOUR

Staring back over his shoulder, Jed hesitated. Torc had said the bothy was protected. Even for Rory’s sake he didn’t have to be in the same room
as Seth.

He swallowed, hardly daring to examine the darkness. The wind was wild in the rowans, covering God knew what other sounds. And Lammyr could move fast, but Conal and Eili were
out here somewhere. They’d head back to the bothy if there was any danger, and he’d see them.

Across the grass, twenty metres from the door, there was an outcrop of grey rock and a copse of rowan saplings. Pulling his jumper on, Jed squeezed into a cranny in the rock,
keeping the door in view, his mind buzzing with obsessive hatreds. He was in no danger of falling asleep, so all he had to do was last out the chilling cold and discomfort till morning.

And then what? He didn’t know, he didn’t know. Somehow he had to get Rory away, but there was no-one to trust. He loathed Seth so fiercely his heart might burn to
a shrivelled cinder. Conal was a stranger in the grip of madness. The rest were fanatically loyal to Conal.

Jed tucked his hands into his armpits to warm them. He could feel his pulse, strong, hard and hating: the beat was rhythmic, regular, the ticking of his own life. Lowering his
head he concentrated on it, on the repetitive thrum of his blood, low and ceaseless. Low and ceaseless...

His head jerked up. Mila had touched his jaw with her fingertips, smiling, and in the sudden silent blackness he knew he’d been dreaming. Jed shook himself,
shivering.

Heart slamming, he stood up. The bothy door stood open, the blue roan motionless beside it. The shadow of a man rested something on its withers, then scrambled onto its back
and took a blanket-wrapped bundle in his arms.

Jed emerged from his hiding place as the horse paced forward. Its rider glanced back, and so did the black wolf at his heels.

‘Seth!’ As Jed began to run the horse’s stride faltered, just long enough for him to run alongside. ‘Seth, what are you doing?’

Seth’s white teeth flashed in the darkness, and Jed stared at the bundle he clutched against him. A small familiar snore was just audible, muffled by the depths of the
woollen blanket. Jed clutched at the child, but Rory was out of his reach, snuggled into Seth’s t-shirt. Seth had changed the torn one for a new one, Jed saw, staring at the clean black
cotton and wishing, with all his heart, that the Lammyr’s blade had gone six inches to the left.

There were hard lines at the corners of Seth’s mouth. ‘I wondered where you’d got to. Thought you’d be asleep or dead by now.’

Jed turned back towards the bothy, thinking of Torc and especially of Sionnach and the way he slept like a cat, alert in an instant at the smallest disturbance. ‘What
have you done?’

Seth rolled his eyes and sighed. ‘They’re all fine. Only sleeping. I do hate confrontations. Besides, I don’t want anyone to get hurt. I’m fond of
them.’

‘Conal...’

‘Is too busy sorting out his personal life to worry about us.’ Seth glanced into the woods. ‘He’s not looking, and he won’t be back for a long
time.’ He smiled. ‘Anyway, he trusts me.’

Jed’s heart crashed painfully in his chest. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘You never have.’ Seth’s face was almost kind as he urged the horse forward. ‘Have you?’

Jed looked back once at the bothy, despairing, then began to jog to keep up.

‘What are you doing?’ panted Jed. ‘Where are you taking him?’

‘Where he can do most good.’ Seth’s perfect calmness was what finally sparked Jed’s panic. ‘And where most good can come to
him.’

‘Why?’ shouted Jed. He didn’t care why. Anything to delay him till Conal came back.

‘Why? Because he’s the Bloodstone. Because I have a right to him. As much as you, and let’s face it, probably more.’

Jed flung himself at the roan. Swinging its face towards him it bared its teeth and was restrained only by Seth’s hand.

‘Give him to me! Give him back!’ Jed grabbed the reins behind the bit and hung on for his life. Dodging the snapping jaws, he brought the roan to a snorting,
slavering halt by the weight of his own body.

‘Oh, of course. As if.’ The sinews in Seth’s forearms stood out as he fought to control the horse’s rage. Snagged between his arms, nestled against his
chest, Rory didn’t even stir.

‘You’ve no right! You didn’t help him get born! You didn’t even wait to see him!’

‘I’ve warned you before, be wary of the horses. So this is for your own good.’ Seth’s foot lashed out, catching Jed a savage blow on his ear with a
Timberland boot. As he staggered in pain, Seth seized him by the back of the neck, dragging him towards him. Jed was still hopelessly off balance when Seth struck him hard on the side of his
head.

Flung a good distance, Jed landed against a heather tussock, the air knocked out of his lungs and his skull ringing. He heard the beat of hooves goaded to a canter, and he
heard Seth’s departing words as if from a great distance.

‘Your own good. And Rory’s.’

 

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