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It hit me that I didn’t need the books any more: the Librarian could have them all back.
I gave a loud whoop and, gri
A virulent green cover on one of the many unread piles caught my eye: The Esoteric Practice of Malediction Propheciesby Michael Nix. I reached out to pick it up— Then snatched my hand away as a flash of magic revealed that the snot seeping out from its spine was real.
‘Sneaky,’ I muttered. After the first ‘WTF?’ spell I’d unwittingly triggered—the one that transported me straight to Fi
‘I can see you’re havin’ a fun day, doll.’ The amused burr came from the bedroom door behind me.
Startled, I turned too fast, and several book stacks avalanched like mismatched dominoes into a cluttered heap around me.
‘Tavish!’ I said, and my heart gave a happy little leap at seeing him. The feeling that all would be right now he was here brought a wide beam to my face. ‘When did you get back?’
He shot me an answering grin, his sharp-pointed teeth gleaming white against the deep green-black of his skin. As his eyes crinkled, the rim of white surrounding the beautiful, brilliant silver of his pupil-less eyes vanished. The grin softened the angular planes of his long face: Tavish isn’t so much handsome—with his Roman nose and pointed chin, his face is a less delicate version of my own, showing the sidhe part of his make-up—but like the kelpie-horse that is his other shape, he is compelling, alluring—
I started to step towards him, then sneezed again, and as I blew my nose, I realised I’d been staring at Tavish like a Charm-struck human. I wiped the silly grin off my face and gave him an irritated glare. ‘You’re doing it deliberately, aren’t you?’
His own grin faded as he placed his hand on his chest. ‘Ach, doll, but it sorrows my heart tae lose your smile.’
I stifled the urge to go to him and throw my arms round him. Damn, I’d had enough of this magical attraction stuff with Fi
He threw his head back with a snorting laugh and I glimpsed the delicate black-lace gills flaring either side of his throat. ‘Aye, doll, perhaps—but I wait for the day when you nae longer wish tae resist me, when we shall ride intae the depths together.’ He sobered as the turquoise swirling in the depths of his silver eyes lit an answering curl of desire inside me. ‘And ’twill be a glorious pleasure for us both, my lady.’
I looked down and nudged a couple of books with the toe of my trainer, willing the desire away. Tavish was wylde fae, a kelpie, a soul-taster, and capricious, like the magic—not to mention dangerous, if he was talking about riding into the depths. But he was also my friend. So was it a warning? Trouble was, asking outright wouldn’t get me the answer, just like it was pointless confronting him about the bracelet, or anything else. He could talk round corners for England if he chose to: at my best guess, he’d been doing it for more than a mille
‘If wishes were horses, we could all ride away on them,’ I murmured, recalling one of my father’s sayings.
‘If wishes were fishes, we’d all cast nets,’ he replied cheerfully.
And the fishes would be caught.Hmm. ‘You’re looking guid, doll,’ he said, still showing his teeth.
I shot him a sceptical look. I’d spent the night in a police cell; there was no way I looked ‘guid’. Then I realised he wasn’t looking at me, or rather my body’s shell, but at my soul. And it probably did look all shiny and bright to him now the black tint of the sorcerer’s soul was gone. So why wasn’t he asking how I’d got rid of it? Unless, of course, I wasn’t the only one chatting to Malik in his dreamscapes—was that why Tavish was here now? Had the two of them been plotting again? Not that any of that explained his outfit, which was unusual, even for him.
He was dressed Elizabethan-style, his starched white neck-ruff a stark contrast to his green-black skin. His dreadlocks were piled into a spiky topknot, and the beads intertwined with the dreads were a brilliant aquamarine, matching the silk lining of his pantaloons.
‘Nice outfit.’ I raised my brows. ‘Did you escape from a fancy dress party or something?’
He twirled his hand in a flourish of lace as he bowed from the waist, keeping his eyes on mine, and I had the strangest feeling hewas wary of me. ‘The queen had hersel’ a hankering tae return tae earlier times, and her court has dutifully obliged her.’
‘Are you telling me that Queen Clíona can turn back time?’ I asked, astonished. ‘By several hundred years?’
He straightened and gave me a thoughtful look. ‘Am I telling you that? I di
‘That doesn’t really answer the question, Tavish.’
‘Maebe there’s nae answer to be had.’
An idea started to form in my mind. Was he just being tricky, or was he telling me something I needed to know that he couldn’t divulge? I left the idea to find its own shape and said, ‘So, what’s Clíona been saying?’
‘Her offer of sanctuary is as before, doll, and she’s nae telt me of any change.’
She hadn’t told himof any change, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t ready to tell someone— me—otherwise. Was that why he was here? To arrange for me to see her? Maybe after my trip to Disney Heaven—
‘I want to speak to her, Tavish. I want to ask her if there’s anythingshe can tell me, however insignificant it might be to her.’
‘She willnae allow you tae visit, doll. Once you join her court, you ca
‘Will she come here to speak with me, then?’
‘The Ladies Isabella and Meriel willnae open the gates to allow her entrance—’
‘Bullshit! You’re standing here talking to me, so why can’t she do the same?’