Veiled Threat (29 page)

The Fomori demon’s face flickered into my head. He had the same intense expression as before. Speck had said that the average person could only concentrate on one thing fully for twenty minutes; I hoped that held true for demons. My watcher must have been focused on me for far longer than that. All it would take was a short distraction and I’d have the advantage I needed.

It took longer than I hoped. The Gift inside me was unravelling and slipping away. My nerves began to fray. This would be much harder if I lost it before the demon broke. I estimated that I only had a few minutes left when he finally blinked. He pinched the bridge of his nose with dark, claw-like fingers and shook his head. A hand holding a cup of something dark and unpleasant appeared in front of him. As he reached for it, I spun round and ran. Usain Bolt had nothing on me. I sprinted like the hounds of hell were after me – which they pretty much were.

It was a full twenty seconds before the demon turned his attention back to me. As soon as he realised I was off course, he opened his mouth in a silent scream. Then he disappeared from my head as the last vestiges of the Jardine’s Gift left my system. It didn’t matter now.

My heart raced and my feet clattered, thumping on the ancient cobbles. I wasn’t going to lose the demons so I needed to throw them off their game and encourage them to lose some of their poise and balance. The only thing that would help me win the day now was if I did the unexpected.

The alarm was raised quickly and I heard hoots and calls around me as the demons reacted. They dropped all pretence of concealment and I knew that they were moving in for the kill. I kept the castle in my sights. It was vital they thought I was heading for it. My sprint for escape meant they’d catch me before I got to their planned ambush spot. All to the good.

They began to crowd in from the sides and a thunderous roar headed in my direction. Plenty of the Fomori demons had wings and I knew they’d be on me within seconds. I had to lock eyes with the far-senser first though.

I ignored the keening cries and wheeled round a corner as something swooped. I ducked and threw myself out of the way just in time. There was a screech of anger. I lifted my head, ready to sprint again, but I was faced by a wall of demons. They bristled, some spat at me and one or two ventured forward a step. They were all as ugly as each other and they all had murder in their eyes. I was going to be ripped apart. I swung my head across, searching for weak points but there were none. This time they were using their own bodies as a barrier.

Playing along, I pivoted on my heel. Demons were advancing from behind. I looked left and right and saw that I was hemmed in on all sides, plus there were hundreds of flying Fomori above my head. It seemed as if all of us were holding our breath.

I slowly turned to the front again and started to lift my hands as if in surrender. Once more my gaze swooped across the wall of demons and this time I found my target: the far-senser was there. I was pretty sure that he was now giving a snarl of triumph rather than one of concentration.

Angling my body towards his I inhaled, drawing in as much of the reeking air into my lungs as I possibly could. Then I straightened my shoulders. I’d give them something to be afraid of. Instead of continuing to raise my hands, I flung them outwards, away from my body. I was rewarded with a collective flinch from the demons. I gave a massive war cry and then I let the black cloud of the Calder Sidhe’s Gift envelop me once more. I’d let this damned Gift attack me again rather than the Fomori. All they had to do was get out of the way.

This time I felt less panic because I had consciously instigated the cloud of doom rather than triggering it by accident. All the same, its suffocating madness clawed at my skin. I barrelled forward towards the far-senser. Dimly, I heard the demons shriek. I didn’t know whether they’d tried to enter the cloud surrounding me or not but no claws ripped into my skin. If any demons broached the darkness, they didn’t get very far.

I yanked on every part of the Gift, doing whatever I could to let the damn thing grow. At the same time I kept moving ahead, taking the cloud with me. The demonic shrieks ebbed and rose and time itself seemed to stand still. It was just me and the encroaching darkness. It was seeping into me, I was absorbing it through the pores of my skin. I’d turn mad ... or worse. It was only when I was sure that what I felt was my very brain cells withering and dying that I broke loose. I just had to pray that I’d already done enough.

I doubled over and ran, pushing my way through the choking miasma and leaving it behind me as a pulsating mass of fear. As soon as I crossed through, returning to the usual humidity of the Lowlands, it no longer felt as if I were surrounded by foul air. For once, the atmosphere seemed sweet and clear. Frankly, the aftermath of a nuclear explosion would seem sweet and clear after being inside that cloud.

All around me was utter bedlam. Demons were scattering in every direction. I couldn’t see the far-senser; with any luck, he was panicking and fleeing like everyone else. Chaotic screeching filled the air and I was jostled and shoved. I saw white eyes writhing in terror but none of the demons seemed to recognise me; they were all too concerned with the desperate need to get away. All the same, I stayed low. I had to get as far away from here as possible. The cloud would only remain where it was for a short while before it vanished into the ether. I could already feel the magic leaving my body as I slammed through. Then I ran and ran and ran.

I
slowed down eventually, not because I was certain I’d escaped but because I didn’t have enough energy to continue running at full pelt. So far nothing had stopped me. No claws had raked into my back. There were no angry shrieks at my departure. In fact, although I estimated I was only a mile away from my doom cloud, it was so silent that I could have been on the other side of the world.

I began taking stock. My heart was still battering my ribcage and my skin felt as if it was coated in that damned darkness but my legs were still working. So were my arms. Unless I was hugely mistaken, I was alive and well.

I kept jogging, glancing over my shoulder as I went. Nothing followed me. I’d have felt a lot better if I could have tried far-sensing again to be sure but there was none of that magic left inside me. All I had left was Truth Telling, which was apparently now permanent, and Illusion. And I needed to keep the Illusion part until later.

Still, if I’d played my cards right, the demons would re-group and assume that I’d ventured up to the castle to look for Byron or that I’d skedaddled back towards the Veil with my tail between my legs. Fortunately the castle was large, so it would take them some time to realise that I wasn’t there. Nevertheless, I still had to be pretty damned quick. They’d probably send an extra contingent up towards Arthur’s Seat just to be sure I wasn’t there. I was praying to Lady Luck that there wouldn’t be so many of them that I couldn’t slip past.

Although I’d been prepared to see the people enslaved by the Fomori, I was still shocked when I approached the small mountain. Hundreds of wooden poles, thousands probably, stretched from the foot of the mountain as far as my eye could see. At the base of each one there were heavy-looking chains; some were attached to huddled figures and some appeared empty. As far as I could see there were no guards but I was well aware how quickly the Fomori could be upon us.

With my heart in my throat, I stepped up to the nearest pole. Whoever was chained to it was in a sorry state, with matted dark hair, ragged clothes and their head buried in their arms. I bit my lip hard. Maybe I could rescue at least one of them.

I knelt down, searching for the lock. I was a thief and there were few locks that I couldn’t unpick. It didn’t take me long to realise that there was no lock. This poor soul wasn’t actually chained to the pole; if they wanted to get up and walk away, they could.

Puzzled and desperately worried, I reached over to shake the prisoner’s shoulder. Before my fingers touched them, there was a shout from several feet away. ‘Blas ack na var!’

My blood froze. It was only when I slowly rose and my gaze pierced the darkness that I realised the words hadn’t come from a demon. Unless I was seeing things, the person standing up and gesturing at me was Sidhe.

I licked my lips nervously and edged towards him. He wasn’t yelling for help or running for back-up, so I guessed I was relatively safe for now. As I got closer and noted his hair colour, fine features and pointed ears, I knew my initial reaction was correct. What I hadn’t spotted until I was less than a few feet away was how scared he was.

‘I don’t speak Fomori,’ I said softly.

His eyes widened and he stared.

I tried to smile. ‘Er ... Chan eil Fomori agam,’ I tried, using my rudimentary Gaelic.

The Sidhe looked at me as if I’d just swallowed a frog. I scratched my neck. Shite.

None of the misshapen bundles around us looked our way, although I did see one or two twitch nervously. I guessed they were hoping to deny seeing anything when the Fomori came and asked questions.

The Sidhe lifted his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. ‘She is tired. She needs to sleep.’

For a moment, I didn’t have the faintest idea what he was talking about, then there was a grunt and I realised he meant the huddled shape I’d approached. ‘Okay,’ I said. His eyes narrowed as if he didn’t understand me. ‘So you speak English?’

‘Yes.’

I breathed out in relief. ‘Cool.’

He frowned again. ‘Cool?’ He glanced around. ‘It seems temperate to me.’ He understood English but he wasn’t
au fait
with contemporary slang. I nodded to myself. That figured; he’d been stuck here without any contact with the outside world ‒ why would he speak a modern dialect?

I smiled at him. ‘My name is Integrity.’

He blinked. ‘Oh.’

I waited but he didn’t say anything else. ‘What’s your name?’ I asked eventually.

‘I don’t have one.’ He spoke like I was a stupid child. ‘Only the Fomori have names.’ He appraised me. ‘But you are not Fomori.’

I bit back a sarcastic remark and focused on what was important. ‘You really don’t have a name?’

‘No.’

That wasn’t so strange to me. I hadn’t had a name until I was eleven years old and I’d run away from the Bull and into Taylor’s beat-up car. Keeping people nameless was a great way to stop your minions getting uppity and thinking for themselves. It was ironic that the Fomori were doing to the Sidhe what the Sidhe had done to me.

‘Why aren’t you chained up? Why isn’t she chained up?’

Again, he looked confused. ‘We have done nothing wrong.’

‘But,’ I paused, ‘if you’re not a prisoner why don’t you escape?’

He stared blankly. ‘Escape? From what? To where?’

I sucked in a breath. Okey-dokey. Tempting as it was to bring up Pavlov’s dog, I didn’t have time to argue the merits or otherwise of conditioning. I glanced over my shoulder to double-check I was still in the clear, then squinted further up the slope.

‘Are there any Fomori here?’

‘They are at the top, guarding the villain.’

Villain? ‘Does this villain have blond hair? Green eyes? Strange clothes?’

‘You know him?’

My heart leapt with hope. ‘Yes. He’s not a villain though, he’s a good guy.’

‘Guy?’

I tutted. ‘Man. I mean, man. How many demons are there?’

‘Five. Six. I do not know.’

I bit my lip. Five or six was a pitiful amount and that didn’t make sense. If Byron was the bait to lure me in, did that mean there were other demons hiding elsewhere?

Somehow I didn’t think my new nameless friend could help; I already knew he was telling the truth. I threw out a quick thanks and began jogging. As pitiful as this man’s situation was, Byron was my priority.

I’d only gone about twenty feet when something occurred to me. I half turned. The Sidhe was still standing beside his pole. ‘What’s your Gift?’ I asked.

He seemed puzzled. ‘I do not know what you mean.’

‘Magic. What magic do you have?’

‘Only the demons possess magic.’

I tightened my jaw. Well, that answered a whole bunch of questions. I thanked him once more. The Fomori plot was definitely thickening. Concentrate on Byron, I told myself. Worry about everything else later.

Time was not on my side. I was still expecting masses of demons to start flinging themselves my way. They’d drawn me towards the castle but they’d catch on sooner or later that I was on my way here to Arthur’s Seat. I pelted up the hill, scree flying in all directions. Some of the figures got to their feet and watched my ascent but others didn’t raise their heads. The eeriness of the whole set-up was starting to get to me.

Not every ‘prisoner’, if I could call them that, was Sidhe. I spotted pixies, Bauchans, humans, trolls ... virtually every race was represented in some way. There was no doubting who was in charge; the Fomori’s grip was iron-clad. The demons had a hell of a lot to answer for – and maybe we did too for letting this continue for so long. The thought spurred me to move faster.

It was hard going. I was used to mountainous terrain from my short stint with mountain rescue and this was more like a big hill than a mountain, so it should have been easy for me to climb. Adrenaline was still pulsing through my veins, which helped considerably, but the knowledge of the demons both behind and ahead of me, and my worry about Byron’s state, made climbing difficult.

I was sweating, my clothes sticking to my skin and my hair plastered to my forehead. Whatever scent I’d got from wearing May’s discarded T-shirt was no doubt gone. Eau de sweaty Integrity was all that remained. The gnawing feeling that I’d have to fight if I wanted to rescue Byron wouldn’t leave me. It’s inevitable, an irksome little voice whispered; your true name means warrior. It’s time to go to war.

I was getting used to the silent, huddled shapes around me. They were a sorry, downtrodden lot – so when a hand stretched out and grabbed my ankle, it was so unexpected that I went flying.

I twisted, kicked away and scrambled backwards, my breath coming in short, heavy gasps. I blew back the damp hair that had fallen into my eyes and peered at whoever had made me fall. My hands were already up to ward off the next attack.