Fionn cleared his throat and nodded to the crossroads before them. White, tiled buildings loomed on either side. ‘Which way from here?’
Neacel tentatively stepped into the lead again. ‘Not far. We shall hear it before we see it.’
They did indeed hear the thumping bass a whole street away. Sound didn’t travel through air as well as it did through water, but Fionn’s finely tuned ears had no trouble picking it out against the low hum of human town life. Everywhere there was something buzzing or rumbling in the background; distant cars and nearby fluorescent lights; people talking and pipes gurgling; some canine creature howling behind a closed door.
Fionn hunched over as they approached the source of the heavy bass notes. The grating melodies that humans took for music spilled from an open doorway where a man in black was checking people before they went in.
Just as Fionn was tensing for a confrontation, Neacel bounded ahead with a smile.
‘Evening, Simon!’
The bouncer’s dour face broke into an answering grin as he looked first Neacel, then Fionn, up and down. ‘Back in town, eh, Nicky? The rest of your lot are inside.’
‘Thanks, friend.’
Fionn had to jump to follow Neacel inside. He grabbed hold of the young Minchman’s shoulder and hissed in his ear. ‘Nicky?And what does he mean,your lot?’
Neacel chuckled and removed Fionn’s hand. Inside the club, he suddenly seemed more brazen. ‘Relax, Your Highness. They think we come from a nearby town. And that our choice of dress is, let’s say, a tradition for our outings of gettingsloshedin Ullapool.’
‘I still distrust that word.’
‘Come have a dram of whiskey, Your Highness. You might find it lessens your troubles a little.’
Fionn had no choice but to follow Neacel as he wove a path through the thick crowd. He walked taller in here, seemed to fit right in.
They reached a wooden bar and a woman behind it asked what they’d like to drink. She had good tattoos on her arms that looked like foliage, though Fionn couldn’t translate what they might mean.
Before long two glasses of amber liquid were placed in front of them. Neacel immediately held up two fingers with a smile and a nod, and the woman responded to this code by adding another pair of whiskeys to the set.
‘Slàinte Mhath!’ Neacel raised his first glass in cheers to Fionn and downed it instantly.
Fionn regarded his with suspicion. There was something… spicy?… about the smell. He took a small sip—and spluttered it straight back into the glass, gasping.
Neacel laughed, slapping him on the back. ‘It gets you like that, the first time. But you’ll learn to love it.’ The amusement fled his expression. ‘Or actually, I suppose you won’t, if you leave us soon.’
Once the burning sensation had left his tongue, Fionn motioned Neacel away from the bar with a scowl. It was too loud and he was already sick of being jostled. ‘Let us find the others.’
They wove through the crowd with difficulty. As far as Fionn could make out, most of the people here were simply standing and shouting at each other rather than dancing to their infernal music. The other Minchmen ought to have been easy to spot, but with all the noise and flashing lights Fionn struggled to make any sense out of the bodies surrounding him.
Eventually Neacel pulled him into a corner, sheltered from some of the noise. He pushed another glass into Fionn’s hand. ‘Are you okay, Your Highness?’
Fionn groaned, rubbing his temple. ‘This isn’t my idea of a good time.’ He tried the whiskey once more. It burned all the way down his throat, robbing his lungs of oxygen. ‘Are you sure this isn’t poison?’
Neacel seemed to be staring at him with concern. ‘Perhaps we should leave. You don’t look well.’
Fionn desired nothing more. But he’d made a promise to Neacel, and if it was the only request he granted to a subject before he left the kingdom, Fionn would rather die than fail. ‘Not until we’ve found Seòras.’ He shoved the whiskey back into Neacel’s hands and grabbed hold of a nearby stool. Using the wall for balance, he hopped up for a quick scan of the area.
Fionn was deep in concentration, intent on picking out tattooed and kilted Minchmen, so it came as an utter shock when his eyes landed onhiminstead.
He was the furthest away he could be, briefly illuminated by a strobing light, surrounded by a gaggle of humans. His hair was short like Neacel’s but he was taller and a little heftier.
And he washim.
Fionn fell right off the stool and landed on the floor with a graceless thump.
A few merry humans mocked him for being drunk and turned away. Neacel bent to grab his elbow but Fionn shot to his feet in a frenzy.
‘Are you all right, Your Highness?’ Neacel didn’t hide the alarm in his voice.
