Bloodstone (44 page)

I couldn’t. I couldn’t help it. I remembered his body jerking, the shock of pain gouged over and over into his face. As for the sickening sound of the lash, I’d never get it
out of my head. I couldn’t imagine how much it had hurt him. Their Captain, their friend, the brother of the man they claimed to love. Oh, the clann did my head in. All of them. Even him.

I glared into his eyes. ‘I will never forgive them. Never.’

‘Quite,’ he said, and I knew I’d blown any chance I might have had. ‘Finn, you hate them and you have to go. It’s dangerous for you and the clann if you stay.
Besides, I’m one of them, understand?’

‘All right. Don’t lecture me.’ I glared at the floor.

‘Sorry. I’m kind of upset myself.’ Standing, he slung an arm round my shoulders. ‘Go and see the world, Finn. Get over all this. I see that damn silly raven’s back,
so take him with you. He likes it over there.’ Frowning, he used his fingertips to turn my face so that he could see my eyes. He took a breath. ‘Oh. I see. Faramach didn’t... he
didn’t come to Brokentor.’

Mind-reader. I gave him a quick smile of relief and gratitude.

‘School won’t be so bad.’ He grinned. ‘Your last year. And I don’t think Shania will trouble you again.’

I said, ‘Conal was so mad about that.’

‘I was kind of proud of you. Don’t do it again though,’ he added quickly as I lifted my eyebrows in surprise. ‘Look, be alone if you have to. It’s not bad. Me, I
like it.’

That figured. ‘I’ll miss you and Jed,’ I said miserably. ‘It’s going to be years.’

‘It’s not so long.’ He gave me half a grin and released me. ‘It’s not a punishment, Finn. It’s a breathing space. Oh, and before you go? We have a job to do,
you and me.’

The beach was winter-desolate. Its fringes of harsh grass were iced with frost and patched with snow, and the sea was grey and angry, lashing the bay. The black horse paced,
hooves thudding into the hard sand, nostrils flaring red. At the far end of the bay it backed onto its haunches, flailing the air, then galloped the length of the surf again, stopping just short of
trampling Seth.

Grinning, he stroked its face, and it shoved its muzzle into his palm, breath snorting and smoking through bared teeth. Seth hefted Conal’s silver-traced bridle in his other hand, and
green light sparked in the black depths of its eye.

‘I’m sorry to see you go,
eachuisge
. But go.’ Turning, he flung the bridle in a huge arc. The straps swung wildly in mid-air but it was carried far into the waves. For
long seconds it was visible in the trough between two swells, then it sank.

The black horse screamed. Without a backward glance it went into the sea at a flying canter, plunging through the windblown waves. When it was beyond its depth it swam, powerful neck driving
through the water like the prow of a ship. It crested three massive waves; then there was a fourth, and it did not reappear. I watched till my eyes watered, but it was gone.

I went to Seth’s side and hugged my chest, the wind fanning my hair across my face. Unexpected tears burned. The wake still haunted me: the drums, the eerie music with its racing beat,
Seth’s rough beautiful voice singing in a language I didn’t understand.

Funny how much I liked his face now. Funny how different it looked when it wore a proper smile instead of a sneer. Now I could see he was beautiful, and he no longer seemed like a twisted
version of Conal; he had an intense kind beauty all of his own.

‘He wasn’t meant to die,’ said Seth, staring out to sea. ‘That was my job too.’

‘Oh, quit doing that.’ I shoved my windblown hair out of my eyes. ‘Want to give yourself a break for once?’

He laughed. ‘Ach, Finn. You’ll love your clann, I promise you. Kate is thwarted for now. We have the Bloodstone. We don’t know what Rory can do, but neither does she, and
she’ll have years of sleepless nights. Whether you or I believe in prophecies doesn’t matter: she does, and she’ll be afraid of us for a long time. So you can get the last of her
out of your head.’

‘Aye.’ My smile was sceptical. ‘Like you have.’

Wordless, he looked towards the dun. Jed was scrambling and sliding down the dunes, and Rory was pelting across the hard sand like a small bullet, straight for Seth. The man fell to his knees
and let Rory collide with his chest, then staggered to his feet and swung him up onto his shoulders. He still flinched a little, but I decided not to mention it.

‘Time’s up,’ he told me. Steadying Rory’s balance, he laid an arm across Jed’s shoulders. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t let Jed cut himself. And
we’ll be here when you get back. I promise.’

‘You’d better be.’ I went into their arms.

Rory’s stubby fingers were entangled in my hair, and in the moment it took to disengage him, a tear escaped. Seth brushed it away with his thumb as my mother rode to my side.

‘Her name’s Reultan,’ he whispered in my ear.

Stella sat bareback on a white horse, four Sithe riders waiting at a diplomatic distance. As Seth gave me a boost onto the horse, I grinned at my mother. Raising an eyebrow, Stella gave Seth a
curious glance. ‘Thank you,’ she told him coolly.

He smiled at her.

Stella stroked her horse’s neck, and I noticed her fingers were trembling. ‘I’ll send my bridle back with the escort. Please return it to the sea.’

‘Of course.’

‘I’ll never come back here, Seth, you know that.’ Stella made a heroic effort at a genuine smile. ‘But come and see Finn whenever you like.’

She turned her horse and dug her heels into its sides. It leaped forward into a gallop, making her silky black hair banner back in the wind as the escort fell in behind us. My arms tightened
around her waist, feeling Stella’s heartbeat racing with the rhythm of the hooves.
Reultan
, I thought. Star; Stella. Maybe she couldn’t let go of the Sithe in her.

My mother’s mind was a crazy conflict of relief and unbearable sadness, and I realised it broke her heart to leave this place again, and for the last time. She was doing the wrong thing,
and she was breaking more hearts than her own, but she was doing it to protect me. Because she actually did love me. And that was a kind of homecoming too.

Closing my eyes against the northern wind I smiled, and I didn’t look back. In my head I could still see them anyway. Jed and Rory and Seth, and a wild winter sea, and grey-bellied waves
already obliterating the hoofprints in the sand.

THE END

Bloodstone had a long and convoluted birth, and I have lost count of the people who helped me drag it kicking and screaming into respectable form. Hilary Johnson and Chris
Curran were wonderful at beating the Sithe into shape, and I send them huge thanks – which also go to my terrific agent Sarah Molloy, to Derek Allsopp, Michael Malone, Pam Fraser, Tanya
Wright and Fiona Cruickshank. An early draft stretched the admirable patience of Brian Keaney and Jon Appleton of The Literary Consultancy.

I’m so grateful to Strident Publishing, especially Alison Stroak for her skilful and sensitive editing, and to Keith Charters for his constant enthusiasm and
encouragement.

Graham Watson – you know I couldn’t have done this without you. Jennie Hood – you’re obviously at least half-Sithe. Thank you both for always knowing
exactly the right words.

Huge thanks to Katherine Langrish for allowing me to use a quote from her haunting Tam Lin poem
Janet Speaks
, and to Lawrence Mann for putting such attractive flesh on
Seth’s bones – and for patience above and beyond.

All the mistakes and omissions are, as always, mine.

And as always, much love and humble thanks to Ian, Lucy and Jamie, who put up with an awful lot of door-slamming, head-banging, and burnt pizzas.

Firebrand

ISBN 978-1-905537-19-8 (paperback, RRP £7.99)

It’s the last decade of the sixteenth century: a time of religious wars in the full-mortal world. But the Sidhe are at peace, hidden behind the Veil that protects their
world—until their queen, Kate NicNiven, determines to destroy it.

Seth MacGregor is the half-feral son of a Sidhe nobleman. When his father is assassinated, and Seth is exiled with his brother Conal to the full-mortal world, they vow not only
to survive, but to return to reclaim their fortress and save the Veil.

But even the Veil’s power can’t protect the brothers when the brutal witch-hunts begin...

Brimming with intrigue and rebellion, Firebrand is the first book in the Rebel Angels series by Gillian Philip, the Carnegie Medal-nominated author of Crossing the Line and
multi-award nominated Bad Faith.

Bad Faith

ISBN 978-1-905537-08-2 (paperback, RRP £6.99)

Life’s easy for Cassandra. The privileged daughter of a rector, she’s been protected from the extremist gangs who enforce the One Church’s will.

Her boyfriend Ming is a bad influence, of course, with infidel parents who are constantly in trouble with the religious authorities. But Cass has no intention of letting their
different backgrounds drive them apart.

Then they stumble across a corpse. What killed him? How did his body end up in their secret childhood haunt? And is this man’s death connected to other, older
murders?

As the political atmosphere grows feverish, Cass realises she and Ming face extreme danger.