He drew in a deep breath. ‘Then let’s keep going. We just need to be fast.’
‘Angus...’
‘Integrity.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Chieftain. We are here for a reason. Let’s complete our mission.’
‘Matthew MacBain is already dead. We’re not, not yet anyway. And what if it’s mission impossible?’ I asked.
‘You’re Integrity Adair. Nothing’s impossible.’
Indecision warred inside me. We were so close now – and I’d given Chieftain MacBain my word. Besides, I was here for more than a collection of old bones. ‘We’d better get a move on then. That demon, he had the oddest look on his face when he scented us.’
Angus remained silent for a few seconds. ‘Fear,’ he said finally. ‘The expression on his face was fear.’
Chapter Eleven
Still invisible, we ran. My eyes darted all over the place, terrified that at any moment a vast army would appear, on its way to kill both Angus and me in the most brutal and painful manner possible. It didn’t help that I wasn’t sure which ramshackle little house Matthew MacBain’s remains were in. When I was here last time, I’d been focused on other things.
At least with my worry about what might appear on the horizon, I wasn’t looking at my feet as I ran and therefore avoided the strange nausea I’d experienced when Tipsania turned us all invisible. It wasn’t much to be grateful for but I’d take whatever I could to keep my spirits up.
The small stone houses began to appear, lining the road. They were in an even greater state of disrepair than I remembered, with cracks and holes in the stonework. From time to time, I double-checked the roofs; that had been where the demons had sprung from – literally – when I was in Glasgow retrieving Dagda’s harp. Fortunately, these outer reaches seemed to be as silent and dead as they looked.
With relief, I spotted the building where Matthew MacBain lay. I hissed a warning to Angus. ‘On the left! The third one along with the broken door.’
‘Gotcha.’
I sprinted forward, taking one last look ahead. There was still nothing. Darting inside, I came to a skidding halt in the gloomy interior, right next to poor Matthew’s body.
Angus’s voice drifted over. ‘Wow. When you said there was nothing more than bones, you weren’t kidding.’
‘Yeah. He must have been lying here undisturbed for years. With the rate of decomposition, there must be insect life around here. He’s all but picked clean.’
I dropped my backpack and rummaged through it. It was as invisible as I was, making my attempts to find the body bag Brochan had fashioned almost impossible. I cursed loudly. ‘This invisible-man malarkey would be a hell of a lot easier if I could turn it off and on when I wanted.’
‘Yeah, about that...’
‘I’ll explain later.’ My tone brooked no argument. Considering Angus was under fealty to me, he wasn’t likely to argue. It was an odd piece of knowledge to have. ‘Here, help me get him in the bag. We need to move quickly before more demons show up.’
I obviously hadn’t thought this through carefully enough. Although both Angus and I took great care lifting MacBain’s body and manoeuvring him into the bag without losing so much as a skeletal finger or toe, his bones weren’t under the same invisibility spell as the bag was. When I zipped it up and hefted it over my shoulder, Angus squeaked, ‘It’s like a weird floating skeleton.’
‘Evil Dead eat your heart out.’ I paused. Half a dozen skeleton jokes zipped through my brain but I managed to ignore them. This really wasn’t the time.
‘This isn’t going to endear Chieftain MacBain to your Go-Pro plan. She won’t be able to see you.’
Shite. ‘Look at me. Or at the body.’ I stretched out my fingers until I could feel his face then made sure I was pointing in his direction. ‘Chieftain MacBain, we have been forced to use a Gift to conceal ourselves but you can see that I am carrying Matthew MacBain.’ I turned. ‘Angus, move your head round slowly. Let the good Chieftain see that there’s nothing else here.’
‘Doing it now,’ he informed me. There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. ‘Hang on. There’s something written on that wall.’
‘It’s not relevant. MacBain is only concerned that I might steal her family heirlooms.’
‘But—’
‘Leave it, Angus. Let’s get out of here.’ I edged back to the door and peered out. No demons in sight. ‘The coast is clear. Let’s vamoose.’
With Angus’s footsteps right behind me, I ran as hard as my burden would let me. The bones clanked together sickeningly but I couldn’t afford to be squeamish. I had to get Angus and Matthew MacBain back to the border.
Angus matched me step for step. Our invisible feet pounded the hard ground as we ploughed back towards the Veil. There were still no marauding demons behind us; maybe we’d been very, very lucky.
‘I can see the Veil!’ Angus called out. ‘We’re almost there.’
Praise be. I ran the last half mile, coming to a halt on the edge of the mass of the lightning-sparked cloud. ‘Angus! Take my hand!’ I jerked it out in front of me, searching frantically for his body.
‘Here.’ He lunged and grabbed my wrist.
‘Don’t let go,’ I warned him. ‘I can’t risk you veering off again.’
‘Believe me, I’m not letting go.’
I tugged and he followed. We plunged back through the Veil and I concentrated on staying in a straight line. One foot then the next; one foot then the next. Less than twenty steps later, we were out in the Highlands. The first streaks of dawn were appearing, lighting up the sky with pinks and blues and purples.
‘Red sky in morning,’ Angus muttered. ‘Shepherd’s warning.’
‘Minced lamb and potatoes,’ I returned. ‘Shepherd’s pie.’
There was a high-pitched scream. ‘It’s the walking dead! The zombies are after me. I knew it would come to this. I just knew it!’ Something flew at my face, whacking into my nose.
‘Ouch!’ I shrieked. ‘Bob, you bloody idiot.’
‘Uh Integrity? Is that you? Run for your life! Run! The dead have arisen.’ His voice dropped into an impressive Vincent Price impression. ‘When darkness falls across the land—’
‘It’s morning. It’s already light.’ I took a deep breath and straightened up, rubbing my nose and wincing. ‘And the dead have not arisen. This is Matthew MacBain. I’m invisible, you dolt.’
There was a pause. ‘Oh.’ He flapped round and peered at a spot several feet to my left. ‘Are you alright? Did you manage to lose that MacQuarrie kid?’
‘I’m right here,’ Angus said drily.
‘Oh. Better luck next time.’ Bob raised his eyebrows. ‘Is it a good idea to be invisible right now?’ he enquired. ‘I’m not sure this is the best time for hide and seek.’
I rolled my eyes. It was a shame he couldn’t see me do it. ‘I’m not sure how to remove the magic and I don’t want to lose it just yet.’
‘You think the demons are still after us?’ Angus sounded nervous.
Bob pulled back his shoulders. ‘Demons?’ he squeaked. ‘Fomori demons?’
‘I think we’re in the clear,’ I told him.
‘You think? Think is not good enough, darling. I need to know.’
‘You’re a magnificent being, you work it out. What are you doing here anyway?’
Bob’s eyes widened as he tried to appear innocent and guileless. ‘I thought I’d come and welcome you home.’
‘Bob...’
‘Alright.’ His shoulders sagged. ‘There’s a problem – but it’s only a teeny problem. In fact, I don’t even think you should let it worry you.’ He fluttered his eyelashes and clasped his hands together.
Worry squirmed through me. ‘What is it?’
‘I can’t have this conversation with you when I can’t see you. It’s like talking to Skeletor.’
I gritted my teeth. ‘Bob, I swear to God if you don’t tell me I’m going to pick you up by the scruff of the neck and fling you into the Veil as
hard as I can.’
‘Jeez!’ he whistled. ‘Testy, much? I told you it’s not that big a deal. It’s just that Byron woke up...
‘That’s good.’
‘Mmm. Then he got himself free...’
‘What?’ I shrieked.
‘And he came here after you...’
My voice got even higher. ‘What?’
‘And he went through the Veil.’
I almost dropped Matthew MacBain’s body. ‘What?’
Bob winced. ‘You don’t have to screech like a banshee. It’s just Byron Moncrieffe. I know you fancy the pants off him and he’s your love bug and dreamy and sexy and—’
‘When was this?’ I demanded. ‘Why didn’t you stop him? How on earth did he escape? Those were supposed to be magic ropes.’
Bob heaved a dramatic sigh. ‘So many questions.’ He held up his index finger. ‘About an hour ago. He was gone before anyone realised. He used one of the opened tins of beans to saw through the bindings.’ He shrugged. ‘I only protected them against magic. I wasn’t expecting bloodymindedness. Anyway, didn’t you see him?’
‘Bloody great neep!’ I yelled.
‘Is that me you’re referring to?’ Bob asked. ‘Or Byron Moncrieffe?’
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Unbelievable. Reaching round, I lifted the body bag and held it out in the vague direction of Angus. ‘Here. Take this to Chieftain MacBain and tell her my promise is fulfilled. Then you’d better get yourself home.’
‘Whoa. No way. Are you going in after Byron? Integrity ... Chieftain ... if he was foolish to wander in by himself then it’s up to him to get out.’
I nodded. ‘Yes, it is. But I was always going back in. Take the bag.’
Angus reached forward, fumbled with it and took its weight. ‘You’re really going back in? Through the Veil?’
‘I have to,’ I said simply.
‘Don’t worry, mate,’ Bob chirped. ‘We’ve already told her she’s as mad as a MacQuarrie for doing this. She wouldn’t listen.’
‘I’m coming with you,’ Angus said. ‘After all, I’m a mad MacQuarrie.’
‘Oops.’ Bob pretended to look apologetic.
‘No. You’re not coming, Angus. I promised Chieftain MacBain she’d get her uncle’s remains back. I need you to do this for me. Please?’
He didn’t speak immediately. Not being able to see his expression was making this conversation incredibly difficult. Then he asked, ‘Has this got anything to do with the words you wouldn’t let me read? The ones written on the wall of that cottage?’
‘Yeah.’
He sighed. ‘The genie is right. You are madder than a MacQuarrie.’
‘There’s method to my madness.’ I bit my lip. ‘Thank you for all your help.’
‘Hey,’ he said, ‘any time you need someone to travel through a fifteen-foot cloud of pulsating electricity into a scorched land where it’s permanently night so you can play dodge with some ugly naked demons and turn yourself invisible in order to pick up a skeleton, I’m your man.’
I grinned. ‘You’re a good guy.’
‘And you’re still nuts.’
I spun round and shook out my hair. Not as nuts as a certain Moncrieffe heir I knew. Byron was an idiot for doing this; he clearly thought he could still play the hero. He’d learn his lesson if he ended up with his entrails hanging out and a demon munching on his brain. He was lucky I’d intended to go back and would be able to save his skin. If he needed saving.
‘Uh Integrity?’ Bob piped up.
‘Yes?’
‘I can come with you. You might need to make a wish. In fact, you could just make your last wish and then we can finish all this right here and now.’
‘You’re staying here. I won’t be long.’
‘Famous last words,’ he said in a loud stage whisper, magicking up a noose and pretending to hang himself from it.
I tutted. And then I passed through the Veil once more.
***
There was no sign of any more demons; unfortunately there was no sign of Byron either. Without knowing where Matthew MacBain’s remains were, he could have wandered off in virtually any direction. Yeah. He must have veered off course or Angus and I would have seen him.
I gnawed the inside of my cheek. I wanted to find evidence – or, preferably, a lack of evidence – that the Fomori demons had captives, the captive descendants of all those poor Scots who hadn’t made it out of the Lowlands after the Fissure. I didn’t know where to look exactly, although Glasgow or Edinburgh seemed likely bets. Along the way, I could search for Byron though I wasn’t sure how much time I could devote to him. For all I knew, he’d strolled around for a bit and was now leaving the Veil at a different spot. Clan lordling he might be, but he wasn’t completely stupid; he was an idiot but he wasn’t a total idiot. Unless he was spotted by any demons, he’d probably extricate himself. Probably. But he wasn’t invisible like me.
I took off at a jog. I’d expended a lot of energy in my sprint with Angus and it seemed prudent to recoup some of it by taking my time.
‘Did you hear about the best way to confuse an idiot?’ I whispered to myself. ‘Show him two shovels and tell him to take his pick. Byron Moncrieffe should have brought a damned shovel with him. At least then he’d have something to dig his own grave with.’
I was already talking to myself; I was as crazy as Bob had suggested. I shrugged. If I already knew I was crazy, then I couldn’t actually be crazy. Or something. I slapped myself round the cheek a few times. That was better.
By the time I reached the MacBain cottage again, I’d stopped mulling over the issue of my own sanity and was focused on my irritation and anger. I should have been glad that no demons had reappeared; instead, I was pissed off at Byron for complicating my life. At least I told myself that I was pissed off. That was better than being petrified.
I had a quick look inside but the building was as empty as it had been when I’d left. Maybe I should have brought Bob along after all. I dampened down that thought quickly. If I wished for Byron to get out of the Lowlands safely, he’d probably be followed by a teeth-gnashing demon who would rip out his throat the moment he exited the Veil. If I wished to be led to Byron, I’d come across his corpse. Wishes were just too damn tricky.
‘He’ll be fine, Integrity,’ I said aloud. ‘He’s a big boy. He’s not your concern.’ My stomach still churned with worry.
I was turning to leave when there was a snuffling sound. I froze ‒ I was sure the place had been empty an hour ago. Then I heard it again. I twisted round, scanning the gloomy interior. This was the point in horror movies where the dippy girl went to investigate the strange noise and ended up as victim numero uno of the serial killer. Don’t do it, Tegs, I warned myself. I rose up on my tiptoes and stepped forward.
It could be Byron, I reasoned. Or it could be a Fomori demon on my trail. If I called out, I’d know for certain but it wouldn’t be a wise move. I tiptoed forward until I was against the wall and, as silently as I could, pressed my back against it and hunkered down. The safest thing to do was to wait. The walls were damp and musty with mould. My low position might mask my scent slightly. Right now, it was the best I could do.
The sound had come from the far corner of the house where there was another room. It was too dark and gloomy to see inside so I closed my eyes and focused on what I could hear. The snuffling sound continued, followed by a harsh, guttural ack. Crapadoodle. No Sidhe made that kind of noise. I clenched my fists and waited.
‘Ack! Eg. It. Ee.’
Perhaps whichever demon was lurking around inside was trying to learn the alphabet.
It came again. ‘Eg. It. Ee.’
Why couldn’t they speak English? Captain Kirk never had this problem; every alien he met had no problem communicating. This wasn’t even an alien and it sounded like it didn’t have a frog in its throat but a warty toad with lung cancer. I hadn’t understood the other Fomori demons when they spoke but at least the sounds they made
seemed like words. I paused. Hang on.
I opened my eyes and cocked my head. A hand appeared round the edge of the lintel; I could just make out long, cracked fingernails. The hand was followed by a head – a remarkably familiar head, even if it did boast a lack of hair and several old, vicious-looking scars. My eyes travelled down as her body appeared. That looked like a tattoo on her shoulder and she was missing a nipple. I was right: it was May, the demon I’d helped after she’d been maimed by some of her colleagues for attempting to give me up.
My eyes narrowed. Of all the abandoned houses in all the world...? No. This couldn’t be a coincidence.
‘Eg. It. Ee,’ she said again.
Her head turned and there was the faintest glow in her eyes as they swivelled in my direction. I forgot to breathe as she straightened up and her mouth opened, a wide tongue-less chasm.
‘Eg. It. Ee!’ She clapped her hands and rushed forward.
I held up my hands to ward her off. I might have helped her, and we might have managed to introduce ourselves, but she was still a Fomori demon. She’d also been wounded last time. She didn’t attack me, though; instead her hands clutched downwards, digging into my shoulders and dragging me up. She pulled me forward in what I could only describe as a hug. Unfortunately, it was the strangest – and probably most unpleasant – hug of my life. When her cold skin touched mine, I couldn’t stop myself shuddering.
Trying to free myself gently from her embrace, I stepped away. ‘You can see me?’
‘Ack?’
Shite. I took her hands and gently lifted them up to her eyes. ‘Can you see me?’
She shook her head vigorously and pointed at her nose instead. ‘Ay eh.’
‘You can smell?’ I sniffed loudly to add emphasis to my words.
May nodded, comprehension gleaming.
‘May,’ I hedged, knowing it was probably a pointless question, ‘why are you here?’
I assumed she wouldn’t understand me. We didn’t have any words in common and there was no point of reference for us to bounce off. But she was a smart cookie; she jerked her head once and pointed to a scar on her neck which looked fresher than the others. Then she beamed her strange, wide-mouthed smile again. ‘Eg. Eh. Ee.’