Last Wish Page 4

  ‘Aren’t you the lucky one?’

  Bob buzzed over and peered at us. ‘What’s with you two? We’re in a godforsaken layby in a scrap of land. It’s hardly a romantic setting and yet the pair of you are making googly eyes at each other.’ He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. ‘Is there something you’re not telling us? I know there’s a bit of an age difference but did you come here and…’ He made a rude gesture with his fingers.

  ‘Ewww! Bob, get out of my face!’ I flicked him away. ‘This is where Taylor and I met.’

  Bob’s bottom lip jutted out. ‘Here? I will never understand humans. Why would you come here? I mean, I’m an all-knowing supreme being with…’

  ‘…powers you can only dream of,’ the rest of us chorused for him.

  ‘Exactly,’ he huffed. ‘But why would you come here?’

  I shrugged. ‘Fate?’

  ‘Luck?’ Taylor suggested.

  Bob regarded us both. ‘I met Lady Luck once.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Between you and me, she’s not all there.’ He tapped his temple.

  Taylor stared at him. ‘Lady Luck? She’s a real person?’

  ‘Well, duh.’

  ‘Is she still around? Because I’ve got to tell you I could really do with—’

  ‘Bob’s having you on,’ I said, glaring at the genie. ‘And we’ve got more important things to do than shoot the breeze and discuss how you can gamble away more of your life.’ I pointed at a clump of bushes. ‘Come on. The Scrymgeour border is over this way. Single file and stay frosty.’

  ‘This is just like old times,’ Lexie sighed happily as she fell into place.

  My skin prickled in a familiar frisson of anticipation. All I had to do was to focus on the fact that this was a heist of sorts – and forget that I was returning to the place where I’d spent my deeply unhappy formative years – and I’d be fine.

  Bob aside, we all knew exactly what we were doing. We were dressed in black from head to toe, camouflaged for the night and against prying eyes. I kept my body low as I wove my way through the foliage, avoiding the thorns and brambles which barred the route. Soon we emerged onto a thin path which snaked upwards. If I squinted, I could just make out the glimmer of lights up ahead. I hoped the Bull hadn’t done any drastic renovations in the years since I’d run away. Despite his wealth, he was a tight-fisted bastard so chances were that everything remained the same and I’d have no trouble finding my way around. I crossed my fingers just in case.

  We skirted silently through the woods. It had rained recently, so each of us left distinct tracks in the mud of the path. It didn’t matter; it’s not as if we were actually stealing anything. It was unlikely that anyone would discover our footprints and think that a gang of highly skilled thieves had wandered up this way in the dead of night. All the same, we’d have to take care that we didn’t track mud into the castle. That would be a sure-fire giveaway that something was up.

  It was a good twenty minutes before the border finally came into view. Just as with the Adair Lands, there was a massive flagpole with the Scrymgeour colours hanging loosely at the top. The flag was there for more than just show; the magic that kept the border in place stemmed from it, bolstered by ancient spells and wisdom lost to almost all Sidhe. The trolls who normally maintained these borders were well aware of it, though. Sorley had given me a detailed – and rather unnecessary – history, as well as bestowing on Speck the means to unlock the magic to permit entry.

  If the trolls had still been in place, I doubt we’d have managed to sneak in but the trolls were now at Clan Adair. All we had to deal with were a few dozing Scrymgeour servants. The presence of the Scrymgeour Sidhe inside the border helped bolster the magic but Speck was strong enough now to beat it.

  I counted four border guards: a warlock, two humans and – surprise, surprise – a Sidhe. I wondered what he’d done to piss off the Bull and end up here on guard duty. He was the only one of the four who seemed fully alert. He scowled at his companions from time to time, especially when the warlock let out a loud snore. As I stayed low and watched, he strode towards the warlock’s slumped body and raised his foot, as if preparing for a sharp kick. Then he grimaced and seemed to think better of it – though he still looked distinctly unhappy.

  I considered. It was imperative that we slip through unnoticed and it didn’t appear as if the Sidhe boy was going to drift off any time soon.

  ‘You’re going to have to do it, Tegs,’ Brochan murmured in my ear. ‘It’s the best way.’ Unfortunately, Brochan was right. Short of waltzing up to the Scrymgeour Sidhe and clocking him on the nose before he managed to raise the alarm, I couldn’t see an alternative. I wasn’t convinced that this course of action fitted with my pacifist morality but I’d brought us here and I had to step up to the proverbial plate.

  Taking a deep breath and holding the air in my lungs, I concentrated just like Morna had taught me. If I focused hard enough and used the meditation techniques I’d been practising, I could almost visualise the swirl of magic within the Sidhe’s soul. I had no idea what his Gift was and I wasn’t stealing from him because I wanted it for myself – there was another method to my madness.

  Bit by bit, I tugged, grasping first at a single thread of his Gift and pulling it inside me as if my body were a magnet. As his power left him and filled me, I gasped inadvertently. The Sidhe would have heard me if he hadn’t already started to feel woozy. He clutched at his stomach, then at his head and groaned faintly. I slammed on my magic brakes; I didn’t want to seriously hurt the poor bugger and neither did I want to steal his Gift in its entirety. He might be a Scrymgeour but he was a stranger to me and I couldn’t completely destroy him.

  ‘He’s gonna chuck,’ Bob said knowingly.

  I gestured to him to keep quiet. He huffed in irritation but did as I asked. We watched from the shadows as the Sidhe staggered backwards then spun round and began retching violently. I winced. Shite. So much for all that pacifism.

  The sound was enough to wake his dozing companions. The warlock muttered in alarm and scrambled to his feet. The two humans looked groggier but they got up and stumbled over to check on the Sidhe.

  ‘Now. Speck,’ I hissed.

  He slipped forward, moving soundlessly past Brochan and me and up to the flagpole. Even through the darkness I saw him gulp. It was rare that Speck was our point man but, given how much his recent proximity to the Foinse had affected his magic, he needed to get used to it. All the same, I watched him with my heart in my mouth. If any of the Scrymgeour sentries turned round, he’d be done for.

  The Sidhe continued to retch, falling forward onto his knees. I was starting to suspect he was making a bigger deal out of his nausea than was absolutely necessary. I’d stolen partial Gifts from others and they’d not reacted this badly. I gnawed at my bottom lip and prayed I was right. The humans were hunkered down, one on either side of him and both facing away from the border. The pesky warlock, however, was kneeling in front of him. All he had to do was lift his head and he’d catch sight of Speck pulling the scrap of Adair fabric from his pocket and pinning it to the base of the Scrymgeour pole.

  ‘Go, Bob,’ I said urgently.

  For once the genie chose not to argue. He spun in the air, transformed himself into a large bluebottle and zipped forward. As Speck murmured out the words to let us pass the border, Bob landed on the Scrymgeour warlock’s ear and buzzed loudly enough to be an irritation. Scowling, the warlock stood up and batted him away but Bob wasn’t about to quit and shot towards his ear again. The warlock cursed and waved his hands around, shaking his head like a dog emerging from a dip in the sea.

  The tightness in my stomach eased slightly as Speck signalled. I sprang forward, angling my body to the left to veer round the Scrymgeour group. With the others on my heels, I wasted no more time; I acknowledged Speck with a bob of my head as he joined us and we pushed past the border.

  My skin tingled, traces of the magic that held the border in place still trying to hold me back. I’
d been through far worse than this; let’s face it, if I could pass through the damned Veil several times, then I could skip through the Bull’s weakened border. As the Sidhe finally stopped being sick and wobbled back to his feet, pushing his companions away in irritation, our small group sped towards the nearest copse of trees on the Scrymgeour side. By the time we reached them, the sentries had turned back to their original posts. The Sidhe was still rubbing his stomach and looking confused while the other three settled down again to return to their doze. Excitement over.

  I breathed out. Speck, visibly shaking, let a large grin spread across his face. ‘Did you see me?’ he whispered in delight, punching the air. ‘I was awesome!’

  Lexie shifted her weight and stretched up on her tiptoes to plant a sloppy kiss on his lips. When she pulled away, they both looked flustered. Speck pulled off his glasses and began hastily to rub them.

  ‘Steaming up?’ I asked with an arched eyebrow.

  Brochan choked. Bob, now back to normal, looked unimpressed. ‘Don’t I get a kiss?’ he complained. ‘I’m the one who had to get up close and personal with those guys.’ He licked his finger, an expression of utter pleasure crossing his face.

  ‘What are you eating?’ Taylor asked.

  Bob blinked. ‘Mm? Oh, ear wax.’ He held his finger out. ‘Want some?’

  Taylor looked almost as ill as the Sidhe had. ‘I’ll pass.’

  The genie shrugged and licked it again. ‘Your loss.’

  Rolling his eyes, Brochan turned to me. ‘What did you steal?’ he asked. ‘What was his Gift?’

  I reached down inside myself, feeling for the magic. It was definitely there – and it was definitely unfamiliar. ‘I have no idea,’ I admitted. ‘And we’re still too close to those guards for me to experiment and find out.’ I glanced up at the night sky. ‘We’ve got a good four hours before dawn. Let’s make the most of it and see what we can learn from my old friend the Bull.’ I pointed upwards. ‘This way will take us round to the back of his castle. We can enter through the kitchens but we’ll have to hurry. When I lived here there was always someone up early baking bread. We need to get inside before they start work.’

  ‘Are you alright, Tegs?’ Taylor asked.

  I smiled. Now that we’d overcome the first hurdle, I could concentrate on the matter in hand. The rattling memories inside my head were just ghosts from another life; I wasn’t that scared little kid any more. ‘I’m good,’ I told him. I meant it. ‘Now let’s move.’

  We were lucky that it was a cloudy night because the moon was almost obscured, making it easy to slip unnoticed to the main buildings. I spotted a couple of others wandering about the grounds, no doubt under orders to keep the Bull safe, but they didn’t glance in our direction.

  Buoyed up by our success so far, I sped up, knowing that the others would keep pace. Before long, I was standing in front of the old oak door leading into the Scrymgeour kitchens. Taylor was breathing heavily – it was a long time since he’d participated physically in any heists – but there was no denying the gleam in his eyes. He’d missed this. Perhaps we all had.

  The door was locked and bolted from the other side. Opening it wasn’t impossible but there were easier ways to gain entry than to waste time fiddling around and trying to pick the lock. I spotted a grimy window high up in the right corner of the wall. If the Bull had been re-modelling, he hadn’t done anything to change the exterior. Not that the comfort of his servants had ever been his concern; he’d always demanded that the kitchen door be kept closed so the grounds staff couldn’t wander in to nab some food whenever they wanted. It could get mightily hot when the kitchen was in full swing, however, so back in my day that little window was always left open to provide ventilation. It appeared that nothing had changed.

  I jerked my chin and the others understood instantly. Brochan strode over and pressed his back against the wall before cupping his hands. I lifted my foot onto his makeshift step and pushed myself upwards until my heels were on his shoulders. Then Speck shunted Lexie upwards. His hands lingered on her arse – that was definitely a new development since we’d last done this manoeuvre – until she gained enough purchase to clamber up both Brochan and myself to reach the little gap. The pixie shimmied inside head first. There was a faint clatter as she landed on something metal on the other side. I froze for a moment, waiting to see if the noise had alerted anyone. When the silence continued, I dropped down and dusted off my palms.

  Unbolting the door to let us in, Lexie gave us a little curtsey and an apologetic glance. She pointed at a large saucepan which she must have knocked down during her descent. No harm, no foul; I shrugged and patted her shoulder. From here on in, however, we had to be as silent as the grave.

  Leading the way, I padded through the tiled kitchen, noting the differences since I’d last been here. A sudden image of the head cook slapping me for tardiness rose unbidden in my head but I choked it back down. I could reminisce later.

  Using memory rather than sight, I went to the interior door and nudged it open with my toe to reveal the long, dimly lit corridor ahead. I paused, head cocked, but I couldn’t hear a thing beyond the faint buzzing from one of the wall sconces. With a quick signal to the others, I made a beeline for the Bull’s study. No one was allowed inside – even Tipsania had been roundly scolded one day for daring to snoop while her father was away – and at this hour the Bull himself would be in his quarters snoring like a foghorn. It was the place where we were least likely to risk discovery and also where he would keep any information about the upcoming wedding.

  I turned right then left and right again before emerging into the main hall. There was a sudden eep from behind me. Alarmed, I spun round; Speck was clasping his heart and staring, stricken, at an ancient suit of armour. I frowned at him and he looked embarrassed. Bob, taking every opportunity to assert himself, flew into Speck’s face and put his finger to his lips in overly dramatic outrage. At least he did it quietly.

  Apart from the occasional creak of a floorboard and the heavy tick from the grandfather clock next to the armour, everything was silent. This was proving to be a piece of cake.

  Our mute train continued, twisting down corridors until we reached the room I needed. Just to be on the safe side, I leaned towards it and cupped my ear against its reassuringly solid door. No one was inside. I tried the handle, delighted that the Bull relied on his Clan’s obedience and had left it unlocked, and pushed it open. We shuffled in and closed it behind us. Yahtzee. We were finally inside.

  As it was one of the few rooms I’d never entered during my time here, I was curious to see what secrets it held. The reality was disappointing; it looked like any other study anywhere in the world. There were bookshelves containing row upon row of leather-bound tomes, none of which, I noted sardonically, had cracked spines. It was no surprise that the Bull wasn’t much of a reader. He also wasn’t very clean or tidy. Despite the lack of a lock, he guarded the interior of this study too carefully to allow anyone inside to dust or sweep up and the results were obvious. There was a thick layer of grime along the windowsill, making me glad that we’d not entered that way, and several messy piles of papers on the desk. And, in the far corner and in plain sight, an old-fashioned safe.

  Taylor cracked a grin and stepped over to it. He ran his hand across its top in admiration. ‘I’ve not seen one of these models for years,’ he whispered. ‘What a beauty.’

  Lexie scrunched up her face. ‘It’s ancient,’ she said with a note of disgust. ‘I’d been hoping for a challenge.’

  Taylor wagged his finger at her. ‘Now, now,’ he warned. ‘Just because it’s old, doesn’t mean it’s weak.’

  ‘Are you talking about yourself, old man, or about the safe?’

  He jabbed a mock punch in her direction. ‘Have some respect for your elders. One must wait until evening to see how glorious the day has been.’

  I opened my mouth but Brochan reached over and clamped his hand over it. ‘I love you, Tegs, but no.’
>
  ‘Mmmmph.’

  ‘You have to promise.’

  I glared at him then nodded. He released me. Stepping away, I pouted. ‘It was a really good joke. Now you’ll never know just how funny it was.’

  ‘I’ll live.’ He pointed at the safe. ‘Open sesame.’

  Bob, who’d been snoring on my shoulder, jerked his head up abruptly. ‘You called?’

  ‘Figure of speech, Bob. We’ve got this.’

  He frowned. ‘Are you sure? Because you could just wish…’

  ‘No wishing.’ I glanced at Taylor. ‘Do you want to do the honours?’

  He swept a bow. ‘I’d be delighted.’ He grinned at Lexie. ‘Watch and learn, young one. Watch and learn.’

  He knelt by the safe, one hand on the dial at the front and the other resting on the side. A look of intense concentration crossed his face as he began to turn the dial. It clicked round, Taylor muttering to himself as he listened for the tell-tale changes in sound that would indicate the correct numbers for the combination. I left him to it and flicked through the papers on the Bull’s desk. There was little here of interest, just letters from tenants and old bills. Interestingly, there was a photo of Tipsania hidden behind one pile of envelopes. She looked about twelve years old and she was wearing a dress that wasn’t a million miles away from the one I’d seen in MacKay’s Marriage Emporium. So that was where the Bull had got his inspiration from. I picked it up to examine it more closely and realised as I did so that the photo didn’t quite fit the frame. There was something underneath it. Biting my lip, I unclipped it to reveal another picture. When I drew it out, my mouth dropped open.

  Brochan edged up and peered over my shoulder. ‘Is that…?’

  I nodded. ‘My mother. I knew they’d had a relationship but I thought it hadn’t meant much because the Bull cheated on her.’ I stared down at her smiling face, itching to take the photo with me. I didn’t have any images of her; whatever was left in the Adair mansion had been destroyed. I’d really liked to have had this one but if I took it would be like leaving the Bull a great big note saying ‘Integrity was here!’. I cursed aloud and put the photograph back inside the frame. Desire for just one photo of my mother warred with common sense. Damn him. I returned the frame to the desk but my eyes lingered on it.