Page 56 of Honour Bound
Jamie didn’t reply. I raised my hand in gesture of both gratitude and farewell and left him, shoulders drooped and skin clammy, as he absorbed what he’d seen.
I didn’t have time to reflect on what Jamie was experiencing, much as I felt guilty about it. I left the drawing room door and jogged to the next door. I knocked once and, when no one answered, twisted the doorknob and peered inside.
These were Aifric’s rooms all right. The Moncrieffe tartan was everywhere and if that wasn’t enough of a clue, the suit he’d been wearing yesterday was hanging on the side of the huge oak wardrobe. The bed was neatly made and there nothing on either of the side tables next to it. I opened the drawers, using the cuff of my jumper. I doubted that Aifric ever dusted for fingerprints but it paid to be circumspect.
There was a small bottle of pills inside. I picked it up and examined the label, whistling softly. Strong stuff. So the Sidhe Steward was having trouble sleeping ? as well he should. I replaced it carefully, closed the drawer and looked around.
I couldn’t find much that interested me. There was a heavy chain inside a small glass cabinet, probably a symbol of the Stewardship, and there were carefully ironed clothes in the wardrobe. The rest of the room was spartan in its tidiness and emptiness. I wondered what Aifric was getting out of his position – it certainly wasn’t money; his Clan was all but penniless. I’d not heard of him enjoying any romantic dalliances so sex was out of the equation. I thought about the way he comported himself and decided it had be a power thing. What an idiot; real power comes from inner peace and contentment, not ordering others around. Half the servants in this place could probably have told him that.
There were two other doors. The first one led into a well-appointed bathroom with mod cons which looked out of place in such an old castle. The second door opened into a small study. Yahtzee. There was a large desk, covered with letters and papers. I was bound to find something here.
Sitting down on the cracked leather chair, I looked through the first bundle. There were a lot of petitions from different Clans: the Kincaids wanted to search for the Foinse, which had flown off after I’d released it from the cavern deep in the Scottish mountains; the Jardines were in the middle of a land dispute with the Carnegies and demanded that the borders be re-drawn, while the Chieftain of the Innes Clan was hoping for a loan from the Cruaich coffers so he could go hunting for the mythical white stag. I snorted.
One unsigned letter caught my attention. I had no way of knowing who it was from but my own name stood out like a beacon. Someone was demanding that I be taken care of ? apparently I was a danger to society. It was suggested that I’d hidden my Gift because, like the last one of my father’s, it was soul punching. That is, the ability to draw inside an opponent and yank out their life essence. Apparently it was how he’d killed so many so quickly. The suggestion in the letter was that any moment now I might slaughter every one of the Sidhe in vengeance for what had been done to my Clan.
Now that was interesting. Why would I want vengeance when it was supposedly my father who’d done the killing that had left me alone in the world? It was another piece of evidence that he was innocent and that, somehow, Aifric Moncrieffe was involved in setting up my father and committing genocide.
The knot of anger in my chest expanded. It was an unfamiliar sensation; Taylor had taught me to take each day as it came and to appreciate what I had without worrying about the past or the future. I had elected to avoid the Sidhe wherever possible – unless it was to steal from them, of course. Now, whether my entire Clan were dead or not, it felt like I’d let them down. I was still floundering around in the dark for the truth.
Abandoning the desk, I looked for a safe where Aifric might hide more sensitive materials. I couldn’t find it. Unless Aifric was using magic to conceal it, there was no safe here.
Irritated, I stood up. Considering all the effort it had taken to get here, I had very little to show for it. I tilted my head backwards and stretched my neck – and that action that made me spot the one thing that looked out of place.
The study was lit by a small chandelier, much like the other rooms I’d seen in the Cruaich. This one was as finely made as the others, with little crystal shards decorating the frame in a spiral pattern, but something darker was teetering above the glass. I pulled over the chair and, standing on it, I grabbed the edge of what felt like cold metal and brought it down so I could examine it more closely.
When I saw it, my veins ran cold. It was a tiny pewter lion on its hind legs and with its paws in the air as if ready to do battle – in fact, it was exactly the same as the tattoo I’d spotted beneath May’s battle scars when I’d fought her when I was beyond the Veil. Whatever I’d been expecting to find, it wasn’t this – because here was proof positive that Aifric was working in some way with the Fomori demons.
Chapter Thirteen
By the time I returned to the auditorium, the performances were finishing for lunch. I looked around for a friendly face. I couldn’t see any of my group but I did spot Byron in a cluster of giddy-looking girls. Clearly, he’d not lost his playboy touch. Pushing back my shoulders, I marched over.
‘It’s her!’ one of the girls gasped.
I licked my lips and looked her up and down. She blanched. Dear me. ‘Girls, if you could excuse Lord Byron for a moment…’
A dark-haired Sidhe, who was clearly the boldest of the group, stepped forward. ‘If he doesn’t want to talk to you, he doesn’t have to.’
My eyebrows flew up and I glanced at Byron. ‘You don’t want to talk to me?’ I dropped to my knees and clasped my hands. ‘But why? It’s not fair!’ My voice rose with every word until we were attracting quite an audience. ‘I want you to talk to meeeeee!’
Byron folded his arms. ‘Integrity,’ he sighed. ‘Is this really necessary?’
‘I thought you were my friend.’
‘The last thing we are is friends,’ he grunted, although his mouth twitched and I didn’t imagine the hint of smoky promise that crossed his face. ‘Ladies,’ he said with a bow, ‘perhaps you could give us a few minutes.’
They glared at me but they weren’t about to gainsay Byron. They swirled away, voices low and irritated. I held out my hand so Byron could help me up.
He didn’t move. ‘I think you can manage by yourself.’
I shrugged and stood up. ‘True.’
The people who’d been watching my little show returned to their own conversations. I grinned at Byron.
‘I was under the impression that you thought we should stay away from each other,’ he remarked.
I jabbed a finger at him. ‘Hey, you’re the one who approached me this morning. Anyway, you looked like you needed rescuing. And I wanted to congratulate you on your performance this morning. It was sensational.’
‘Is that another joke?’
