Bloodstone (17 page)

‘I know that.’ Her voice was barely more than breath; I sensed it more than heard it. ‘I know, Murlainn. I don’t want anything like that. I only want to hear you say what
you know: it’s dying. What will we do?’

She shivered, and reflexively I held her tighter. ‘We’ll fix it.’

Her brief laugh was almost a sob. ‘We can’t, Murlainn. I know you don’t believe in the Bloodstone. I do. But Leonora’s wrong. It’s not for saving the Veil,
it’s for protecting us. The Bloodstone can’t save a dying thing, but it can save us. It can help us break the Veil. Be in control. You know the full-mortals. Don’t you want to
have the upper hand? Don’t you want us to be in charge of our destinies when the Veil dies?’

I thought of Catriona, I thought of Mila. I thought of all the others. ‘They’re not all—’

‘Enough of them are. Enough of them.’

I thought of the wars; I thought of the camps. The rows and piles of skulls. I thought of grinning children wielding machetes.

And then I remembered Conal, and twisted out of her grasp.

‘Get away from me, Kate. I won’t betray my brother.’

She set her teeth, raked her hands through her beautiful hair. ‘I’m not asking you to! Do you think I’m stupid enough to ask that of
you
?’

‘Not stupid. But you’d ask it.’

‘Once I would have. It’s been a long time, Murlainn. I grow more desperate. I don’t want to see my people persecuted and killed.’

‘Hah,’ I said.

She made a sound of frustration, took a step back from me. That surprised me a little, and so did her grieving glare.

‘We’ve had our differences, the Sithe, haven’t we? That will mean nothing when the Veil dies, Murlainn. Nothing! We need to prepare ourselves for that, and far more, we need to
prepare the full-mortals.’

In the silence, I swear I could hear the trees grow.

‘Conal says—’

‘Conal, always Conal! Your brother is a fine man, Murlainn, a noble man. But on this he is wrong. I mean him no harm. Why would I? He’s the finest soldier I know. To fight with him
is foolishness. I want you both on my side.
At
my side. My Captains.’

‘Your henchmen.’

She shook her head; I caught the scent of her hair, and almost reached for it. I clenched my fist.

‘Your long, long exile at an end. The sons of Griogair on my right and left hand. The Sithe united. The Sithe surviving, strong and wise and in control. The full-mortals...’ She
shrugged. ‘Their minds... adjusted. Happier than they are now. Disinclined to kill us all. Utopia, Murlainn.’

‘We’re not made for Utopia,’ I said. ‘We’re not made for peace.’

‘What a ridiculous thing to say.’

‘We’d quarrel. The Sithe do. So do the full-mortals. You know it would end in war.’

‘And there speaks an addict. You love to fight, Murlainn, don’t you?’ There was anger in her golden eyes. ‘But there are other ways, other lives you could live.
Don’t you believe a people can change? You’ve seen yourself change. You’ve seen...’ Her voice gentled. ‘You’ve seen a full-mortal change. You’ve seen a
full-mortal come to love a Sithe.’

I couldn’t answer her.

She laid her fingers against my lips. Gods help me, I kissed them.

‘Ah, Murlainn. I’m not asking you to betray your brother, I’m asking you to talk to him. Persuade him. Bring peace between us. If you can do that, you save us all. And I
won’t harm Cù Chaorach, you have my word.’

‘Your word,’ I repeated slowly.

‘My word. You know that’s something I can’t break, even if I want to. And I don’t. You have my
word.
What is there to lose, Murlainn?’

It stuck in my throat. So hard to say. But I managed.

‘My soul?’

Sighing, she stepped back. I forced my body not to follow.

‘Consider what I’ve said, that’s all. Think about your race, Murlainn.’ Briefly she touched my forehead once more. ‘And think about theirs.’

I watched her as she walked away, calm, her back turned on me in complete trust. By the time my foot knocked against my scabbarded sword, and I glanced down at it in shock, she had vanished into
the darkness. My hand trembled as I lifted it. Branndair watched me as I strapped it to my back, and as I stroked his head, my fingers still shook.

I headed straight back, but I’d come too far on my hunt. I had time to think, time for my brain to gnaw constantly, pointlessly at what had happened. At moments I
didn’t believe she’d been real, and I knew it was all a dream just like the others. And then I’d catch the scent of her on my hands and skin, and I’d know it had happened
exactly as I remembered it.

I wouldn’t tell them. What would I say? I imagined Conal’s reaction when he heard of the dreams, when he heard I’d kept so much from him. I imagined Sionnach’s
incredulity, Eili’s scorn and her contemptuous laughter, and that decided me. Nothing was going to come of this. If Kate wanted to talk to Conal, she could come to him, shag
him
in
his dreams. I wasn’t her messenger boy. Come to that, I wasn’t her fighting man. I was Conal’s.

The roan was skittish, excited by the smell and the bloody weight of the deer slung across his haunches, and it took me effort to control him, effort I could have done without. I found myself in
a magnificent temper. Even Branndair was quiet, cowed by my mood, so when he pricked his ears and shot ahead, I knew what it must mean. Peering into the trees, I saw the white shadow, and my relief
was hedged with dread.

It was just as Sionnach had said. What was wrong with me?

Branndair bounded up to Liath, who made a bossy swipe at his head. Rolling over submissively, he nibbled at her furry white throat and whined with delight; Liath straddled him, playbiting his
muzzle. I gave him a disapproving scowl, but he was too happy, and too submissive, to take any notice.

Conal rode out in the wake of his wolf, grinning. His old leather jacket was slung across his horse’s withers, his black-hilted sword was strapped to his back, and his slate-blue shirt was
dappled in bloodspots.

Drawing his horse alongside the roan, he leaned over to lock a forearm round my neck, and planted a huge smacker of a kiss on my cheek. ‘Laddie. I missed you! What kept you?’

I wrestled his arm off my throat and dug him in the ribs with an elbow. ‘Less of the
laddie
, you big tosser. What d’you mean, what kept me? This buck didn’t want to
cooperate, funnily enough.’

‘Finn?’ His voice was tense.

‘We’ve got her. You must have known that?’

‘I thought so, but...’ He frowned. ‘There’s a lot of interference in the air. You’ve felt it?’

I shrugged, not meeting his eyes. ‘She can’t do that kind of thing. Even Kate—’

‘Who knows what she’s capable of these days? It’s been a long time. If she gets her way and destroys the Veil, she’s going to want to be strong enough to take advantage,
isn’t she?’

‘She won’t get her way.’ I wished I felt as confident as I sounded.

‘We’ve still got time, if my mother sees sense.’

I didn’t say a word to that.

‘The way back to the watergate’s clear for now. If nothing else, she’ll surely want to see Finn safely home?’

‘And Jed.’

‘And who?’ He reined in the black and stared at me.

‘You heard right. And you want to hear the bad news? He found a gun in the loch. It’s Laszlo’s.’

‘Oh, Jesus.’ Even in the darkness, I saw his skin pale.

‘I take it you haven’t dealt with Laszlo, then.’

‘He wasn’t with his patrol. It was his lieutenant. That bastard Easag.’

‘Uh-huh. But you dealt with
him
?’

‘Yeah.’

Halting the roan, scowling, I grabbed a fistful of Conal’s hair and stared into his eyes. Blood and steel, sweat and death.

‘Yow.’ I let him go. ‘That won’t go down too well.’

‘He started it.’ He gave me a wry grin as we rode on. ‘And Laszlo’s not going to be leaving us alone now anyway, is he?’

The sheltered glow of a fire was visible now, so we dismounted and led the horses into the thicker undergrowth. I sensed Finn and Jed; as for the others, they were blocking so determinedly, the
first evidence of them was the white double-blur of two blades coming unsheathed a foot from our faces.

‘Woman!’ Conal grinned. ‘You’ll have somebody’s eye out!’

Eili slung her swords back into their sheaths with thoughtless precision and flung herself at him. Finn lurched forward but Conal wasn’t even looking at her. Pushing his long fingers
through Eili’s spiky hair, Conal was kissing her like he wanted to eat her, or ideally, be eaten. I rolled my eyes and sighed.

‘What time of night d’you call this?’ asked Sionnach, but Conal wasn’t listening and neither was Eili.

‘He wouldn’t need mouth-to-mouth,’ muttered Finn, ‘if you let him breathe.’

Laughing, letting go of Eili, Conal hugged her. ‘And what,’ he asked fondly, ‘do you think you’re doing here?’

‘Kind of an accident.’ She pulled back and grinned.

It was a little odd, the look in her eye. Happy, relieved, but there was a touch of smugness too, as if she and Conal shared a secret no-one else was privy to. I frowned.

‘You can explain yourself later, toots,’ he growled.

‘You too.’ She winked.

His grin was a little puzzled, but he turned to the boy.

‘Hello, thief,’ he said, and pulled him into a bear hug.

Jed’s look of frazzled fear had given way to bewilderment, almost matched by mine. Seemed I wasn’t the only one with secrets. As Conal let him go Jed stumbled back, disoriented, and
scratched absently at Liath’s thick-furred neck. She sniffed at him with mild interest and licked his fingers. Jed snatched his hand away, then laid it tentatively back on the wolf’s
head.

‘You’ve been gone too long this time, Cù Chaorach,’ said Eili, who couldn’t keep the ridiculous smile off her face.

‘Tell me about it. Brought you a present, though. Eili, you should come over the Veil once in a while, it’s not so bad. The shopping! You’re a
wumman
! You’d love
it!’

Eili smiled drolly at Finn, but the bonding attempt fell flat. Finn only glowered at her, and Eili switched off her smile in an instant. Oblivious to the female politics – gods help him
– Conal kissed Eili’s nose and stuck a pair of Ray-Bans on it.

I wasn’t sure I liked Eili’s eyes being invisible; actually it made my flesh prickle.

‘And you sorted the patrol?’ she asked him.

‘Easag’s dead,’ I interjected, tired of being irrelevant.

‘That’ll make the return journey interesting.’ Eili rolled her eyes. ‘I thought the strategy was to avoid trouble, not go looking for it under stones.’

‘The boy,’ I said, nodding at Jed.

Conal glanced at him, then scowled at me. ‘Shut up, Seth.’

Jed blinked at us. What, had it only just occurred to him? I’d told him he was a fool for taking the gun. If he wasn’t dead, it was because someone else was dead in his place, and
that was Conal’s doing.

I bared my teeth. ‘Look a little more grateful, Cuilean.’

He paled, but before he could react Conal did a double take. ‘What did you call him?’

‘Yeah. Funny, eh?’

‘No, it bloody isn’t.’

‘What are you—?’ Jed began.

‘Sod that. What’s with the name? I don’t like—’ Conal took a breath, frowning, and looked up. ‘Where’s my mother?’

‘There.’ Finn jerked a thumb over her shoulder, then gave a little gasp and touched the green stone at her throat, as if it had burned her. She spun round to stare at a flattened
patch of grass.

Leonora wasn’t there. The shadow of her, that was all.

In the silence, a branch on the dying fire broke and collapsed in a small eruption of sparks. Conal stared first at Leonora’s empty space, then at Finn.

‘
Where’s my mother?
’ A voice as cold as the breeze.

Finn bolted, and the rest of us followed. Conal overtook me and caught Finn on the edge of the trees, snatching her arm so that she half-stumbled. The black horse came right to Conal’s
side, nuzzling his neck fondly as if to stop him spontaneously combusting. Conal clasped Finn, holding her steady as she peered desperately across the starlit machair, his other hand laced into the
white wolf’s mane.

‘There. She’s
there
.’

Damned if I could see her, even on the moonlit plain, but Conal grinned humourlessly. ‘She’s an old deceiver, Finn. You weren’t to know. Stay here, the lot of you.’

He caught the cheekpiece of the black’s bridle as it surged forward. As he sprang onto its back it was already running. He ducked the last branch as it plunged out of the trees.

Finn had the look of a slapped infant, all shock and red delayed pain. I’d thought she wouldn’t understand. Now I was fearful, suddenly, that she would.

‘Don’t worry,’ I muttered, uselessly.

‘Why would I worry?’ She threw me a contemptuous glare, as well she might. ‘I’m not clever enough to imagine what the
hell
they’re up to.’

Her fists were clenched, her whole body trembling. I nipped my lip, and searched the darkness around us as I avoided her hostile, grieving eyes.

Gods, I was going to regret this.