Page 1 of Fiendish Delights
Chapter
One
It’s one thing declaring to the world that you’re a treasure hunter but it’s something else being one, especially when you possess few connections, little experience and limited resources.
Dogged determination and a LinkedIn profile were all well and good, but I was becoming the living embodiment of Catch-22. I couldn’t get any decent treasure hunting commissions until I successfully found some treasure – and I couldn’t successfully find any treasure until I had some commissions. That’s not to say that I hadn’t found work; it just wasn’t the kind of work I’d envisaged when I’d started down this path a few months earlier.
‘The tide will be coming in soon,’ Otis informed me, buzzing in my left ear.
Hester flicked the lobe of my right ear. ‘It’s also starting to rain.’ Her tone was disgruntled. ‘And it’s not the sort of refreshing rain that makes you glad to be alive. It’s the sort of Scottish December rain that is grey and icy and seeps not only under your collar and into your bones, but also into your soul to make you wish you’d never been born.’
‘It’s only rain,’ I muttered. I scuffed the sand at my feet, telling myself that I was having fun. I’d found a lot of broken shells, pretty sea glass and bits of rubbish, but I hadn’t found Trish York’s wedding ring.
‘That’s easy for you to say. Some of those raindrops are the size of my head,’ she complained.
I crouched down and turned over a seaweed-covered rock to check underneath it. ‘You can stay in my pocket. You’ll be dry there.’
‘Dry,’ Hester argued, ‘but musty and smelly. When was the last time you washed this coat?’
Otis sighed. ‘Stop being rude, Hes.’
‘I’m not being rude, I’m being truthful. Are you trying to tell me that you don’t think Daisy’s pocket smells like the rotting intestines of a rat’s corpse?’
He didn’t answer his sister, suggesting that her description was wholly accurate. Instead, he addressed me. ‘I don’t think you’re going to find Mrs York’s ring, Daisy. It’s probably already been swallowed up by the sea. You’ve tried earth magic. You’ve tried a metal detector. You’ve walked up and down this beach eighty-four times. The ring is gone.’
‘This isn’t proper treasure hunting,’ Hester added. ‘It’s lost and found. Where’s the glory? Where’s the fun? Where are the damned dragons?’
‘Do youwantto meet a dragon?’ I asked.
‘Anything would be better than this.’
The only dragons left in the British Isles were in Wales. While I thought it would be beyond cool to meet one, I doubted Hester actually wanted to come face to face with a curmudgeonly beast with fangs the size of a Mini Cooper. Dragons were dangerous. And they usually stayed well out of sight. Hester was right about one thing, though: this wasn’t treasure hunting. Not really.
I pulled my bag off my shoulder, unzipped it and rummaged inside. I didn’t need to look at either brownie to know that their expressions would display disapproval but they knew better than to say anything. I’d heard it all before and it wouldn’t make a difference.
I located the small bag containing my supply of spider’s silk and plucked out a pill. Without hesitating, I tossed it into my mouth. It fizzed on my tongue, the familiar bitter taste making my lips pucker before I swallowed it whole. Immediately my skin tingled and my muscles tightened. I raised my chin and, ignoring the rain, made a last-ditch effort to find the stupid ring by sending out a blast of air magic towards the damp sand.
My intention had been to blow away the top inch or so to reveal what lay underneath, but as I pushed the magic forth I stumbled, losing both my footing and my grip on the spell. The resulting burst of wind slammed into the beach with a deafening crash – and I was thrown backwards by at least several metres, landing with a painful thud on my back.
‘Mmmmf!’ That had really hurt.
I struggled up to a sitting position, blinking through the cold rain at the newly formed crater in front of me. Oops. That certainly wasn’t what I’d intended.
‘What the fuck was that about?’ Hester screeched, her tiny cheeks bright red. ‘Look at what you did to Otis!’
I glanced around and my eyes widened in alarm when I saw him. Shit. He was some distance away, having been turned upside down. The top half of his body was buried by sand and only his legs were visible, kicking uselessly in the air.
I scrambled towards him to pinch his feet and pull him free. He coughed and spluttered. His head, arms and torso were covered in soggy sand. I gently used the tip of my finger to brush it away while Hester continued to admonish me. ‘You could have killed him!’
‘I’m fine, Hes.’ Otis coughed.
‘He could have suffocated!’
‘Honestly, it’s not a problem.’ He rubbed his eyes and blinked, trying to smile.
She didn’t listen. ‘How could you lose control like that, Daisy? He might have died!’
Guilt washed through me. She was right: it should never have happened. It had been years since I’d allowed my magic to get the better of me like that. ‘I’m sorry, Otis,’ I whispered. ‘I’m so sorry.’
