Fionn cleared his throat and forced his DeepSong into a level tone. ‘Who do you pursue?’
Neacel appeared to blush. ‘Seòras, your Highness.’
‘Ah.’ Fionn paused, considering Neacel’s diminuitive frame against what he knew of his head bodyguard. Seòras was the biggest Minchman he’d ever met, and Fionn had learned from overheard conversations that he liked his partners just as big and preferably capable of fighting off a kraken. Neacel’s paltry kelpie was unlikely to impress.
Still, the kid could dream.
‘I can’t promise much,’ Fionn warned, ‘but I shall introduce you.’
Neacel hid neither his surprise nor his delight. ‘Thank you, Your Highness! Then you will join me in Ullapool tonight?’
Of course, the distasteful downside to Neacel’s request. Iomhar’s words still sat heavy in Fionn’s heart, urging him not to waste the time he had left.
Fionn couldn’t think of a more wasteful way of spending his time than to go off gallivanting to a human town. What could he possibly hope to learn or achieve there?
Of course, his younger brothers spoke eagerly of observing humans and understanding their culture as though it were key to the kingdom’s future success. And perhaps they were right. Humans dominated the land and had spread just as far over the sea. These days the paths of humans wavered too close to those of Bluefolk. It might be only a matter of time until there was conflict in the open.
Of course, this wasn’t supposed to be a concern for Fionn, who would have no say in guiding his kingdom inthisrealm. He would be far away, keeping the peace with the Redfolk in theirs.
In a way, this sealed the deal. He wouldchooseto take the opportunity to observe, while he still had choices in front of him.
Fionn squared his shoulders. ‘Yes. I’ll accompany you. Just this once.’
Neacel’s DeepSong resonated with gratitude. ‘It will be a beautiful evening! You shan’t regret it, Your Highness.’
Chapter Three
Rory was elbow deep in lobsters when Graham found him. A gruff but friendly, ‘Oy, oy!’ echoed across the dock as his towering meat-brick of a friend swaggered over to inspect Rory’s catch.
‘Bit poor today, innit?’ Graham announced, casting a critical eye over Rory’s haul. ‘Didn’t you get any prawns?’
‘Some,’ Rory replied, distractedly. He picked up a lobster that was making a spirited attempt to crawl out of its tub and threw it back in. ‘Already sent them off. Not as much as I ought to have, though.’
Graham scratched his chin. ‘None for me. I swear something’s eating my creels. Maybe I ought to try a different spot.’
Rory grabbed one of his damaged lobster pots and tossed it to Graham. ‘Yours look anything like this?’
Graham’s eyebrows hit his hairline. ‘Aye, right enough. All slashed—and one was crushed like it’d been stepped on. What do you reckon might be doing it?’
‘No idea,’ Rory replied wearily. ‘I’ll go weeks without losing a pot, and then have a day like this where half of them have been destroyed. Here, help me carry these, would you?’
Rory closed the lid on the final transport container for the live lobsters. He pushed one box into Graham’s burly arms and loaded the rest onto a sack truck. Ullapool didn’t have very muchgoing for it, but at least everything was within walking distance. The restaurant that today’s catch was destined for was only around the corner.
‘You ought to pay me if you’re treating me like a delivery boy,’ Graham said, ambling beside Rory. ‘This your last one for the day?’
‘Aye.’
‘Got anything else on tonight?’
Rory sifted through his to-do list. ‘Gonna pop in on Dad. Get him his shopping. Then probably clean the boat out.’
Graham gave him a theatrical nudge—which, with a loaded box of lobsters in his arms, meant there was a lot of weight behind it. ‘You know what’s more fun than cleaning out your boat?’
Rory groaned. ‘Don’t say the club.’
‘The club!’ Graham bellowed happily. ‘Drinks on me tonight, yeah? C’mooon. You’ve had Doaty with you today, aye? Come out and drink his smell away.’
Rory’s nose wrinkled, both in recollection of Ol’ Doaty’s stench and at the prospect of spending a night in the loud company of strangers. Graham was out every other night it seemed, and with it being a Friday there was no doubt that tonight would be long one.
