Bloodstone (37 page)

Laszlo eyed him, lips twitching. ‘It doesn’t work, you stupid kid.’

Jed could feel his pulse beating so hard in his throat he almost couldn’t breathe.
He’s right. You tit. And now you’re dead. You tit.

‘Look, can I get on with my work? We’ll talk after that.’ Smiling, Laszlo lifted his blade and winked.

Superstitious. Seth said Laszlo was superstitious. He believed in idiotic prophecies. ‘It’ll work on you. Kate told me. You killed somebody with it, so it can kill
you. See? It’ll kill the one who’s murdered with it, she said.’ He hoped that sounded vaguely like Kate. ‘Part of its—um. Its charm.’

‘That’s a good one. You’re a liar as well as a thief. Skinshanks!’ he roared. ‘Deal with this whelp!’

‘No, no. He’s quite right, you know.’

Laszlo snapped his head round, briefly, to stare at the Lammyr. Reclining on a rock, it laughed and wiggled its mutilated fingers at him.

‘What?’ Laszlo’s eyes, for the first time, held sparks of fear. ‘Skinshanks, don’t piss with me. This is serious.’

‘So am I, Nils. You’re on your own. I’m interested to see how this turns out. Besides, I’ve told you already: I like the boy.’

Disbelief and betrayal darkened Laszlo’s face. ‘So you have a new pet. It doesn’t mean you need to kill
me
.’

‘Would I? Nils, you wound me.’ Pouting, Skinshanks nodded at Jed. ‘But it’ll be terribly funny if
he
does.’

‘The bloody gun doesn’t
work
.’

‘Oh, it’s like a movie!’ Skinshanks clapped its hands. ‘Will it go off in your face? Won’t it go off in your face?’ It folded its arms,
looked brightly from one to the other.

Jed stood up, levelling the gun at the bridge of Laszlo’s nose. ‘Get away from him.’

‘I think I’ll take my chances.’ The man took a step forward.

Jed made himself smile.
Like a Lammyr
, he thought.
Smile like a Lammyr
. And he saw Laszlo pale.

‘I’m going to kill you. I’m the one. But if you back off now I won’t do it today.’

‘Oh, so what?’ Laszlo looked once more at the gun, then stepped back, trembling, and spat in Conal’s face. ‘You’ll be a long time dying,
Cù Chaorach. But you will die.’

Not a muscle moved in Conal’s face as Laszlo backed away, then turned and loped to one of the dead men’s horses, treading on the corpse of his own. ‘Bring
the twins back to Kate,’ he shouted over his shoulder as he mounted. ‘The boy to me; you hear me, Skinshanks? Leave Cù Chaorach to the crows.’ He kicked the horse into a
gallop, his yell sharpened by humiliation.

Leaderless, Laszlo’s men exchanged glances, their eyes quicksilver-bright. One, in an indigo shirt, took a step towards Jed, but Lus-nan-Leac, his blade still at
Eili’s throat, shook his head. Indigo Shirt halted in his tracks, gave Jed a single pitying glance, then averted his eyes.

Conal was staring at the sky, motionless, but when Jed fell to his knees beside him his left hand moved very fast, gripping Jed’s jaw and forcing his face round to look
at his own. The other hand, his right hand, was clutched across his torn belly, holding in his innards.

‘Don’t look down,’ he whispered, eyes wide.

‘Okay.’ Sniffing, Jed rubbed the spittle from Conal’s face with his bare hand, his tears blotching the skin, and smoothed back the sweat-stiffened hair from
his forehead.

‘Look up, Jed. Look at the sky. It’s lovely.’ Conal’s eyes blurred, then his lips moved again, inaudibly. For a moment Jed thought he was praying,
before the hope came to him that Conal was muttering some magical Sithe incantation that would mend the hole Laszlo had put in him. And then Jed knew suddenly that he was only swearing through
gritted teeth at the pain of it. When Conal looked at Jed’s face he fell silent.

‘Disobedient pup.’ He half-smiled. ‘Brave lad. Thank you.’

‘Conal. Oh, God. Conal.’ Jed began to cry in earnest.

‘Gun didn’t scare him, Jed. You did.’

‘You can still talk,’ said Jed desperately. ‘You’ll be okay.’

‘Be talking for a while. Y’ll be begging me to shut up.’ Conal grinned, the corners of his mouth flecked with bloody spittle. ‘But’m not going to
be okay.’

Jed opened his mouth to argue, but Conal silenced him with a beautiful smile of genuine happiness. ‘He’s coming,’ he whispered. ‘I knew he’d
come.’

The scream of a horse split the air and hooves thundered on peat and rock.

‘Oh, what now?’ said Skinshanks testily. It raised itself on one arm, then got to its feet just like an interrupted moviegoer. Turning, it was in time to see the
blue roan gather itself mid-gallop, and spring.

‘Tiresome!’ was all it had time to say before Seth’s sword split the air and its head flew from its shoulders. The figure clinging to Seth’s waist gave
a short scream and pressed her face between his shoulder blades.

Jed was surprised to feel a little sorry for Laszlo’s six surviving men, who swore and spun and panicked as Seth cut through them like some insane reaping machine. The
Lammyr dealt with, sheer surprise allowed him to kill Indigo Shirt with barely an argument. By the time the rest had realised he was not here on some incomprehensible errand of Kate’s, his
own impetus was carrying him forward in such a red rage that the others stood no chance.

Only one of them survived. Eili, finally free to move as her guards leaped to defend themselves, slammed her forearm back into Lus-nan-Leac’s face without looking at
him. He reeled back, stunned, and slumped to the ground. Eili did not even look at her other captor. Taking her hand from her ragged half-healed wound, she walked away from him without a backwards
glance.

Casually Sionnach lifted his swords and flung them as one. Eili’s captor slammed against the rock wall, impaled, as the light died in his shocked eyes.

Then Eili was running, sprinting past Seth as he hacked the last man down, heedless of the blood soaking down her jersey, running like a hunted deer. She didn’t spare
Jed a glance as she fell to her knees and stroked Conal’s hair, smoothing down the spikes of sweat and gore.

‘You’re alive. You’re alive.’ It was the first sound she had made since she’d seen Conal fall to earth, but her throat oozed a red line where
she’d strained against the blade. Hesitantly her hand hovered over his gaping wound, and he gave a single sobbing cry as she lowered it. Blinking hard he clamped his mouth shut, a trickle of
blood leaking from the corner.

Something like a laugh wheezed in his chest. ‘You ’kay, my lover? You can run.’

‘I’m fine,’ Eili said distractedly. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry I screamed like that.’

‘Don’t. Couldn’t help it. Told me it was a trap.’ He was the colour of ash but he grinned as a shadow fell across his face. ‘Hey, Prodigal. Knew
you’d be back.’

Seth fell to his knees, letting his sword clatter to the ground and laying a hand against his brother’s cheek. Leaning forward he pressed his forehead to Conal’s,
then kissed his pale skin. Jed thought he saw a tear fall from his eye onto Conal’s cheek, a single spasm of grief tightening his face.

Conal’s eyes widened. ‘Seth, no. Please.’

Jed’s head snapped up. He would have flung himself at Seth and dragged him away, but Finn grabbed his arm, holding him back. One angry glance told him she was Finn
again. He put an arm tight round her waist.

‘Get out,’ whispered Conal, and his brother jerked back as if he’d been flung away. Seth clutched his belly in agony and sucked in a silent
breath.

Conal’s voice grated against his throat. ‘Don’t risk it. This one’s mine, Seth.’

‘Conal, I’m sorry.’ Finn shut her eyes, against tears and the sight of him.

‘Not your fault, love, ’s my own.’ Conal let go his grip on Jed to reach for her, but all he could manage was to stroke her cheek once with a finger.
‘Saw my fetch, toots.’

‘I didn’t mean to see it. I didn’t want—’

‘Course not.’ He bit his lip hard as a shudder went through him, and his voice dropped to a rattling whisper. ‘Listen. The things you thought? Kate had you
spell-bound. Poor Finn. Where’s your stone?’

‘I lost it.’ She wanted to say it wasn’t Kate, it was herself, she’d thought terrible things without Kate’s help because she’d been so
pathetically grateful to be One Of Them. She bit her tongue and blocked it out.

Eili gave a strangled shriek of frustration, then. Pulling her bloodied fingers from Conal’s innards, she eased back the edge of the wound and slid both her trembling
hands inside.

Conal’s grip closed on her arm and her tears fell onto his hand unhindered.

‘Eili.’ It was barely audible. ‘Too much. Please stop.’

‘You said you’d stay,’ she howled. ‘You said this time you’d stay!
You promised
!’

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Eili. Please stop. Please.’

Slowly she took her hands from the gaping mess of the wound. For the second time that day Jed disobeyed Conal, and looked. His gorge rose.

‘Forgive me, Eili,’ gasped Conal through gritted teeth. ‘Stop.’

‘I don’t want you to die!’

‘Don’t want to die.’ His smile was stretched thin. ‘Ach, Eili. Don’t want to die badly.’

‘You couldn’t,’ she said fiercely.

‘Not if you help.’

Wind stirred like a breath on the moor. Close by the black horse stood, head lowered, its breath deep and guttural. A white shadow moved, whimpering as she limped to Conal and
lay down with her muzzle on his sprawled foot.

‘No. I can’t.’ Eili shut her eyes.

The sound of a dagger being drawn was a rip in the stillness. Eili’s eyes snapped open. ‘
No
. Don’t you
dare
touch him
again.’

Seth put his hand to Conal’s face, his eyes lightless ‘I’m his brother.’

‘You’re a traitor!’ she shouted. ‘It’s my work, not yours!’

‘I’m cold, Seth. Gods, ’m so cold.’ Conal’s teeth were clenched hard.

Both Seth and Eili fell silent, and Conal’s head lolled towards Eili, a gout running from the corner of his mouth to join the rest of the blood that soaked his hair. He
spat more of it, shivering. ‘He’s my brother, Eili. Deny him this, he’s paid. Understand?’

‘Yes.’ She spoke levelly but her hands trembled. ‘What do you – which – your heart or—’

‘Not my heart.’ His lips were white. ‘Oh, Eili, not my heart. Not when it’s you.’

‘No.’ Her hands were shaking violently now.

‘Eili.’ The pitch of his voice had risen. ‘I need. You. To
do this right
.’

She took a breath, and her hands stilled. Stroking his face, she rested his head on the palm of her left hand, then bent down and kissed him till he stopped shivering. Her
right hand moved to the sheath on her belt. Conal smiled into her eyes.

Jed grabbed Finn and tugged her face against his neck, but the motion of Eili’s hand was barely visible anyway. She never let her gaze drop from Conal’s as the
blade in her steady grip flashed bright across his throat.

Blood spurted across Jed’s cheek; he heard the suck of breath in an open windpipe, the squirt and gurgle of blood. There was awareness in Conal’s eyes for
interminable seconds, and he spent it looking into Eili’s.

Then the silver light faded, and went out.

‘Oh,’ said Finn. ‘Oh.’ She pushed Jed away and stumbled back, and looked to me for help.

I said nothing. I did nothing. I watched my brother’s empty face.

Eili was still on her knees, eyes locked on Conal’s as Sionnach stepped from behind her and knelt to draw down his eyelids. She gave one strangled howl before she fell silent again and
rose to her feet. The bloodied knife was still in her hand and she moved it, trance-like, till the tip of it was pressed below my ear.

Sionnach pressed her arm gently away from my jugular. ‘Like it or not,’ he said quietly, ‘Seth’s our Captain now.’

Eili’s voice was all contempt. ‘I’ll go with him and I’ll ride at his back and I’ll fight at his word, but he’ll never be my Captain. And if I’m called
upon to kill him, it’ll be my duty and my joy.’

‘You may be,’ said Sionnach. ‘And soon. Let the clann deal with him.’

Did they think this was over? Perhaps, for them, it was. And that was probably best. I turned to Jed.

He’d walked away, back to the bay mare, pausing with tight-shut eyes and shaking fingers to prise a sword from a dead man’s hand. The mare whickered and walked to meet him, her dark
muzzle blowing affectionately into his ear. Jed put his arms around her neck and pressed his face to her warm skin. He stood there for a long time, as if he no longer had the will to move.