Bloodstone (34 page)

‘Shut up.’ Seth flung her into an empty room. ‘Block.’

As if he had to tell her. She jerked her arm out of his grip, and he saw her bloody palm. He blinked, made a grab for it, but she snatched it away, digging the talons back
into their holes.

‘What have you done to yourself this time? No, never mind. What’s Kate up to?’

‘She’s sending out hunters.’

‘
Now
?’

‘Twelve. And the Lammyr.’ She gulped down nausea. ‘It’s just a hunt. But—’

He shook his head impatiently. ‘Never mind hunting. What’s she so unnervingly happy about?’

‘I think...’ Tears of uncertainty burned her eyes; then she took a breath. ‘Conal’s fetch.’

Seth went white, his eyes dilating in the shadows. ‘What?’

‘I saw a fetch. Conal’s. That first night, while you were hunting. I told Conal, but he wouldn’t tell me what it was. I told Kate and she’s been like a
pig in shit ever since.’

‘Jesus. Gods.’ Oddly enough for Seth, he didn’t sound as if he was swearing. He sounded as if he was calling for help. Hands splayed on his mouth, he stared
at her. ‘Oh gods, what have we done with you? Why wasn’t I told?’

‘You weren’t there.’ She trembled. ‘And Conal told me not to tell you.’

‘I’ll bet he did.’ Seth snatched up the sheathed sword that lay on a bench behind him. ‘Where’s Jed?’

Finn paled, realising he didn’t know. ‘Jed’s gone.’

‘
What
? When?’

‘Two hours ago. Kate made him leave.’

She didn’t think Seth could go any whiter, but he did. As his hand shot out to her throat she flinched, but he only seized the empty raven’s claw.
‘Where’s your stone?’

‘Fell out. Kate’s got it.’ She felt sick.

‘That explains a lot.’ He finished buckling on his sword and tucked his shirt into his jeans. ‘Otherwise you might have the brains to know
it.’

Her whole body felt bloodless. ‘Know what?’

‘That there’s only ever one reason to send out a Lammyr.’ He strode from the room without looking at her again.

The pain in her hand was gut-sickening now and she thought, for a moment, she was going to pass out. Gritting her teeth, she clenched her fist on the claw again, and the
distant sounds of the hall finally encroached on her brain.

She heard the click of Gealach’s chess pieces, the whicker of horses in the stabling cave, the slow thrum of a distant mandolin, a ripple of laughter among men and women
just back from a patrol. After a little, it occurred to her that she hadn’t breathed for a while, so she took a gasping breath, and that allowed her limbs to move.

She ran.

The stronghold was a maze of tunnels, but some compartment of her mind recognised Seth’s path as clearly as if he’d left prints in snow. She didn’t pause to
question the knowledge; but pelting round a corner at full tilt, she skidded to a halt.

Five women were ahead of her, walking abreast and talking in low laughing voices, effectively blocking her way.

Finn blinked. She could be back in the corridor at school, with Shania’s gang approaching and no way of avoiding them. Her heartbeat tripped and thudded, then as her
vision cleared a voice called out her name, including her in their gossip and their company.

And she’d fallen for it.

She’d argued with Conal barely a month ago, screaming with rage, taking it out on him instead of Shania’s gang.
One day I’ll be One Of
Them!

Oh, no you won’t. You’re better than that, Finn.

She hadn’t been better than that. She’d pawned her soul to be in a gang. What was it going to take to get it back?

The women had fallen silent, bewildered, glancing uneasily at one another. Finn made herself smile, though she was picturing Jed as he walked out of Kate’s caverns and
it made her feel as sick as if a Lammyr had run pale fingers through her hair.

Tears sheened her eyes and the women blurred. Gealach walked tentatively forward, but she desperately did not want the woman to touch her. Her self-respect was balanced on a
wire, and if Gealach touched her it would spin down irretrievably into the gaping hole where her pride used to be.

‘Finn?’

She ran for them, barging through as if they were thistledown, and sprinted on in Seth’s path. They could never catch her. Every feeling she had was concentrated in the
palm of her hand, and the rest of her body felt as if it was flying. She could run this fast forever.

‘Finn!’ The cry went up behind her, anxious and desolate. Her heart ached. She did like them, she liked them a lot. They were like her: they believed Kate, trusted
Kate... she beat away the regret and kept running. They’d be all right. She’d be all right too, if she could—

The passageway ended abruptly in a forest clearing. Finn glanced over her shoulder, expecting the entrance to have vanished like a magic trick. But there it was, a stone arch
rather smaller than the main one. Around her the sun filtered through winter-bare branches and yellowed larch, and the forest litter beneath her feet was crisp with a delicate rime of
frost.

She took a shocked breath and turned. Seth stood watching her, a shadow among tree shadows, his sword in his hand, the blade glinting dull grey as his eyes. His stillness was
eerie.

He hefted his sword, flipped and flung it hard and straight at her.

Reflexively she shut her eyes. It was all she had time to do. She felt the blade’s whisper along her flesh, the sudden bite of cold where it sliced the fabric of her
shirt. And then a rattling dry-bone sigh echoed in her ear, and a clammy weight sagged against her shoulder.

She gave a shuddering sob of revulsion. Panicking blindly she scrabbled at the thing that lay dead against her, but her hand was slippery and clumsy with her own blood, and
she was dizzy with nausea. She couldn’t get rid of it. Seth had to grab it by the skinfolds of its neck and fling it aside.

Ignoring her, he snatched up his blade and thrust it into an ice-fringed burn on the edge of the clearing. When he drew it out, it was clean of the pale ooze of Lammyr
blood.

‘Wild running water,’ he remarked, to the air rather than to Finn. ‘There’s a stroke of luck.’ Reaching deep into a jagged gap between two
stones, he drew out a bridle and flicked dead leaves off it. The blue roan moved in the shadows beyond the clearing, and he slipped the bridle over its head. ‘Block, you wee fool, or
you’ll be the death of me.’

‘I am blocking,’ she stammered. ‘You saved my life.’

His voice dripped contempt. ‘Don’t take it personally.’

She shivered. ‘Thanks anyway.’

‘Wish I could stay and chat, but I’ve an urgent meeting.’ He scrambled onto the horse’s back and took up the reins. ‘Bye,
Finny.’

‘Seth!’ she screamed as Branndair loped past.

He spun the horse and looked at her hatefully. ‘Stay with your coven, Dorsal. You’re happy here, aren’t you? Finally, somewhere you belong.’

She tore after him, stumbling on fallen branches, just snagging the horse’s reins in her fingertips as it whirled on its hind legs and bared its teeth, the toss of its
massive head pulling her off her feet. Seth raised a hand to strike her away.

‘You too,’ she gritted fiercely. ‘Did you belong here too?’

‘I haven’t got time for this.’ He glanced back at the stone archway.

‘Give me some time, you selfish bastard!’

‘Ooh, that’s a common mistake.’ He grinned, hauling hard on the horse’s mouth so that its teeth couldn’t close on her arm. ‘You’re
mixing me up with someone who gives a
spider’s fart what you think of me
.’

She gasped with the effort of holding on as the roan swung its muscled neck violently. Her arms felt as if they were popping out of their sockets but she wouldn’t cry.
If she cried she’d be left behind and if she was left behind she would die. ‘You cared what Kate thought!’

‘Big misjudgement, much like hers. Oh, you fell for Kate, didn’t you? What did she do, come into your dreams? That’s how she got me.’

‘I didn’t know her. I thought it was Mum, I thought she—Mum. The right part of her...’

‘Your real mother,’ he sneered. ‘You thought she was your real mother. Better than the one you had.’

Finn gave another desperate sob.

‘Ah, she’d have to use dreams till she got that shield stone off you. It could protect your conscious mind but it couldn’t keep her out of your dreams, not
our Kate. Isn’t she lovely? All that charm! All that ostentatious compassion! Ah, Finny, it rubs off like a cheap child’s tattoo, and then you get to see the malice, and that gets
wearing, let me tell you. But I never gave a toss for her, never. I hadn’t a choice. I had
no choice
.’

‘So why are you leaving?’ She shut her eyes tight and gritted her teeth. Soon she would let go and fall, and if the horse didn’t kill her Kate would.
Only to spite Conal. Only to spite him
... A fire was burning in her palm where her blood soaked the reins.

Seth sighed. ‘Don’t get me wrong, now. I’m not responsible for your little boyfriend and I never will be. But I’m not going to let Laszlo murder my
son’s brother.’

‘Seth.’ Her grip was failing, her ears roaring. ‘Going to let him murder me?

He looked down at her, unblinking. Through the sweat that stung her eyes he did look like a falcon, she thought irrelevantly, and a rabbit’s last sight of a striking
talon probably looked much the way his hand looked, raised above her head.

His fingers clenched and unclenched and then, instead of striking her, he reached down and seized her arm, effortlessly swinging her behind him onto the roan’s back. He
gave her no time to draw breath before he kicked the horse into a furious gallop.

Gripping him for dear life, she felt his shirt wet beneath her hand and knew, sickeningly, that it was her blood soaking it. She pressed her cheek to his back and locked her
arms harder around his waist, knowing with only seconds to spare that she was going to lose consciousness. And then she did.

When she opened her eyes, surfacing through a haze of pain, something was wrong with the view. It took a moment to register that she was looking at the horse’s neck, not
at Seth’s back, and he was steadying her with an arm round her waist. Groggily she glanced over her shoulder. Despite the winter bite of the wind Seth was stripped to the waist, the
bloodstained shirt twisted and knotted round his own waist and hers, tying her to him. Part of a sleeve had been roughly hacked off and wrapped round her hand. Despite the throb and sting, she
grinned and shook her foggy head.

‘You big soft git.’

A grunt was the only reply she got as he goaded the roan back to a gallop, the burst of speed whipping any more smart remarks back into her throat. Then, horribly, she
remembered.

‘Rory,’ she shouted, half-turning. ‘I promised Jed I’d take care of him.’

‘You?’ he barked. ‘You can’t even stay awake to save yourself. You nearly fell off!’

Somehow Finn knew from the way he said it that he’d almost let her go, let her fall. She wondered what had stopped him.

Seth reined the roan back to a canter and sighed, his voice softening a little. ‘The best thing you can do for Rory is stop Laszlo killing his brother. Kate’s
people will look after him, better than you ever could. You think I liked leaving him? But Kate won’t harm him. We have friends in a lot more danger than that baby.’

She thought for a moment, as the wind speed stung her skin.
Friends. Danger.
Oh, God.

‘Does this thing go any faster?’

‘Are you going to faint again?’ he asked with mild contempt.

‘No.’

‘Then sit behind. And hold on. And shut up.’

The bay mare blew gently, ears flicking, and Jed laid his fingers against her neck to feel the soft prickle of horsehair, damp sweat, the warmth of blood in
her veins. She felt placid and solid and normal, and it seemed to Jed she was the only thing locking him down to reality. All the same, he wouldn’t mind terribly if she stumbled, if he fell
and was killed beneath her.

Someone was riding fast towards him across the rock-strewn plateau, but Jed’s eyes were hot and blurred, and anyway, he didn’t care enough to look. He didn’t
know if the rider was friend, foe or indifferent stranger and he’d stopped caring somewhere in the middle of the valley. His mother was dead. He was trapped in a place where he didn’t
belong, and the only alternative was a place where he didn’t exist. He knew he had no chance of getting back to the caverns, that he would never see Rory again, that there was no longer a
life much worth living for him.