Chapter Fourteen
It took some time before I could pull myself together enough to get to my feet and start walking back. I was confused by what I’d seen and my thoughts were in free fall, tumbling one after the other as I tried to make sense of it all.
The one thing I knew was for certain was that I hated my true name. Layoch? I mean, come on. It sounded like it belonged to a boy. Had Daddy Dearest been wishing for a son? If so, maybe it was just as well he’d not stuck around long enough to meet me.
The journey back seemed longer. Perhaps it was because of the kerfuffle going on inside my head. Despite my sniffy attitude towards my true name, I kept seeing the expression in my parents’ eyes as they looked at me. It was haunting – and not in a particularly good way. My father didn’t looked like an evil murderer. He looked like a man grieving.
I was so focused on the recurring images that I didn’t notice the root jutting out from the ground until it was too late. The tip of my toes caught it and I went flying to the ground with a heavy thump, receiving a mouthful of dirt in the process. It was the only reason I didn’t scream aloud in pain. Who knew that a cracked rib could hurt so much?
I choked. ‘Nice move, Integrity,’ I scolded myself. Between tripping up over a pile of clothes in my own flat and a tree here, I was starting to think I was developing some serious coordination problems. I’d need to get Taylor to put me through my paces when I got back to Aberdeen. I didn’t want my new colleagues at mountain rescue thinking I was as unbalanced and tottery as Bambi.
I pushed myself up gingerly, dusting the debris off my scarf with a hiss of irritation. Then there was a far louder hiss and something flew past my head in a rush of heat, almost blistering my skin.
There was a loud crash, followed by a strange sizzle. I glanced back into the clearing and gaped when I saw one of the trees behind me ablaze. There was another hiss. This time I paid more attention. I ducked down, covering my head in my arms as a genuine, honest-to-goodness fireball blazed past, slamming into another tree and immediately engulfing it in flames.
Pyrokinetics, I thought. That’s Byron’s second gift. I cursed myself for a fool for beginning to trust him and rolled to my right, away from the path and the danger. I move just in time. A third fireball appeared, flying much lower this time. If I’d stayed where I was, I would have been toast.
‘Man’s house is on fire,’ I muttered to myself, still rolling, although now I was away from the path it was harder to avoid the trees and, with every move, my ribs yelled up at me to stop. ‘He calls up the fire brigade and asks for help. “How do we get there?” asks the fireman. The man frowned. “Don’t you still have those big red trucks?”’
My shoulder crashed into one of the solid tree trunks and I yelped in pain again. No more fireballs appeared to be on their way; not surprising really. If I’d been standing up on the path – which I should have been – they’d have hit me already. Unless they were sentient fireballs that could weave in and out of trees, now I was in the dense wood I wouldn’t be hit. I got to my feet and stared at the blaze.
It might have been only three trees that had been struck but the ferocity of the flames licking at the dry branches meant that more of them were catching fire. Before my very eyes, the flames danced, attacking another one, blackening the bark and crackling with intensity. In less than five minutes the entire grove would be alight. The entire sacred grove that was so special some of the Sidhe thought I shouldn’t be allowed inside to taint it.
Cursing loudly, I uncoiled my scarf and ran towards the nearest tree, using it to whip at the flames and contain the fire. My movements were curtailed by my previous injuries and I couldn’t move as fast as I normally did. When I managed to stamp out one section of burning wood, another started up at the side of me. I ran from tree to tree and branch to branch, doing what I could. Shite, shite, shite.
With no water and no help, I was fighting a losing battle. Screw my stupid true name: I should have brought Bob along after all. Instead I’d thrown him into the hands of the man who might end up being my greatest enemy. Yet again, it was damned good luck that I was still alive. If I had died and Bob’s wishes were passed along to Byron – the villain – then goodness knows what might have happened.
I continued to fling myself from tree to tree, fighting the fire. The heat was tremendous and it was getting harder and harder to reach the flames, let alone douse them. Soon I’d have to abandon the grove altogether if I wanted to save myself. The sacred grove was screwed.
Making one last effort, I let out a war whoop and threw myself towards the flames, praying that the velocity of my body would do something to stamp them out. Before I reached them, however, something knocked into me and I was shoved aside rudely. I blinked teary eyes against the now billowing smoke, my mouth dropping open when I realised who it was.
‘Stay the hell back, Tegs!’ Brochan shouted. ‘I’ve got this!’
He raised both his hands. I was beyond glad to see him but I wasn’t sure what he could do to help. He might be a merman but, as the stoor worm had already attested, we were a long way from the sea. The sea that Brochan was terrified of.
I tried to rush forward to help but I was beaten back. The fire was too strong. I stumbled backwards, unable to do anything more than watch as Brochan grasped at air as if he were pulling it down. The atmosphere felt heavy and unnatural and I jumped as thunder rolled across the sky. Brochan didn’t react; he simply continued to yank at the air.
And then I felt it. One little drop splashed on my cheek. I gasped as hope sprang anew. The drop turned to a drizzle. Before I could blink again, it became a deluge.
The rain sizzled on the fire, steam flying up as the weaker flames were extinguished. More and more water fell until Brochan and I, and all the trees around us, were soaking wet.
I ran over and wrapped my arms around him. ‘You did it!’ I croaked. ‘How did you do it? Thank God, Brochan. This place is important.’ It really was. After what I’d experienced in the clearing, I was no longer the blithe and dismissive person I was before I’d entered.
‘I’m a merman, Tegs, you know that. It’s a simple matter of the water cycle.’
His face was wan and drawn and I realised that it wasn’t a ‘simple matter’ at all. ‘Thank you,’ I said into his ear. ‘Thank you.’
‘Someone’s really got it in for you.’
‘You can say that again.’
‘Someone’s really…’
I smirked. ‘Yeah, yeah. Come on. Let’s get out of here before they try again.’
Foregoing the path in order to keep ourselves safe – and Brochan’s presence hidden ? we tramped through the trees while he filled me in on his news. It was slow going because I was hurting all over now, but at least it allowed Brochan plenty of time to cover all the details.
As the trumped-up charges against both him and Speck were entirely false, it wasn’t difficult to get them released. Of course, the sizeable wad from the sale of the Lia Saifire had helped. Money talks. Taylor had stayed behind in Aberdeen to ensure there was no further fall-out while the rest of the gang vamoosed over here.
