Fiendish Delights (Thrill of the Hunt Book 2), page 16
Rizwan shuddered. ‘Incredibly lucky.’
I switched my attention to the area around my feet. Patches of grass were still smouldering and a small bouquet of dried flowers on an old gravestone nearby remained alight. Everything smelled of bonfire. Even the old yew tree displayed signs of fire damage.
A shiver ran down my spine and my fingertips tingled. Hugo turned to me, alarm lighting his face. ‘Daisy—’
Water magic exploded out of me, icy wet molecules coalescing every scrap of moisture in the air. Becky squeaked. A second later, it wasn’t only Hugo who was soaking wet. We all were.
‘For fuck’s sake!’ Rizwan yelled.
Oh no. I wrapped my arms around my body. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that to happen.’ My limbs were shaking and there was a churning nausea in the pit of my belly.
Gordon wiped the water from his face and stared at me. Rizwan, Miriam, Slim and Becky looked horrified. Hugo’s expression, however, had transformed into a blank mask. ‘It wasn’t deliberate that time,’ he said.
Chapter
Nineteen
It was a bedraggled, forlorn group that returned to Scotland. It didn’t help that most of the others wouldn’t look at me; I suspected they were now as wary of me as they had been of the damned dragon.
Fortunately, Hester and Otis had recovered from their hangovers and they chattered non-stop during the long journey home. I needed the distraction because Hugo checked on me hourly, as if I were in danger of suddenly bringing forth more water magic and submerging his Jeep from the inside. But I’d already upped my spider’s silk dosage and I was fine. Absolutely, completely fine. Maybe if I kept telling myself that, it would come true.
‘You shouldn’t go home alone,’ he said when we finally drew close to Edinburgh. ‘Come back to Pemberville Castle. We can spend more time working on your meditation skills and controlling your magic so you don’t have another outburst.’
‘You’ve given me the basics,’ I said. ‘I’ll keep practising and come to you when I’ve mastered those techniques. But I’ve got things to do.’ I waved my hands around. ‘People to see. I’m a busy person.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you?’ he asked sceptically.
‘Yes.’ On that count, I wasn’t lying: there was some urgent research I needed to carry out, not to mention a visit to see a certain fiend-banishing witch.
Hugo glanced at my face. I knew he wasn’t happy, but I wasn’t his responsibility and I wouldn’t be alone. ‘There’s no shame in admitting you need help, Daisy.’
The only help I needed was some tiny white pills. ‘I’ll be fine.’ My voice was firm. ‘I’d tell you otherwise.’
A muscle throbbed in Hugo’s cheek. ‘You don’t have to take more drugs.’
I did.
‘It’s incredibly dangerous to keep increasing your dose.’
It was.
‘It won’t end well.’
It would not. I smiled. ‘Don’t worry about me, Hugo. I’ve got this.’
I made it to the hospital just before visiting hours ended. Naturally, despite my excellent sense of direction, I managed to get lost on my way to Mud McAlpine’s ward. For some time now I’d suspected that hospitals deliberately made their layout as complicated as possible to distract people from the horrible reasons they had for visiting.
After asking several tired, harassed members of staff, I found the right room and reassured the nurse on duty at the front desk that I wouldn’t be long.
There were four patients inside, each one strung up to IV tubes and beeping machines. Given the severity of their conditions, Mud probably wouldn’t be in any state to hear what I had to say.
I located his bed in the far-right corner. To my surprise, although his eyes were closed he looked much healthier than he had the first time I’d met him and his chest was rising and falling regularly. Some of my anxiety eased; Mud was in the right place. He’d probably needed some proper medical intervention for a long time, regardless of any fiend attacks.
Unsure if he was asleep or merely resting, I slipped towards his bed and sat down on the plastic chair next to it. He immediately started to speak, although his eyes remained closed. ‘Daisy Carter must be here with news,’ he whispered. ‘But is the news good? Or is it dreadful?’
I stared at him. How did he know it was me? I’d never heard of witches possessing telepathic visual power. And given the lack of herbal plants in the sterile hospital ward – and his medical issues – I couldn’t imagine even a witch like Mud McAlpine using any magic.
‘Mud knows only one user of spider’s silk, and Mud knows what spider’s silk smells like.’ He opened one eye to look at me. From the glimmer of amusement I saw there, he was delighted that he’d effectively read my mind.
‘What does it smell like?’ I asked, fascinated. I’d never been able to scent anything beyond a very faint chemical smell.
‘Rot,’ he replied simply.
I grimaced, wishing I hadn’t asked. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Lord Hugo Pemberville is not here,’ he said.
No, I hadn’t told Hugo I was coming; this was something I wanted to do alone. ‘Are you recovering?’
‘Where is the mythical treasure?’
‘Mr McAlpine—’
He wrinkled his nose. ‘Mud is fine. Mud is feeling great. Mud will soon be doing the can-can.’ He lifted his head an inch off the pillow then a flash of pain crossed his face and he fell back again. Mud would certainly not be doing the can-can any time soon.
I gave in to the inevitable and told him what he wanted to know. ‘We found the treasure.’
Both his eyes were suddenly wide open. He scanned my face before reading enough in my expression to understand what was happening. ‘But Daisy Carter does not have it now.’
‘No.’
‘Lord Hugo Pemberville does not have it now.’
‘No. I’m sorry.’
He sagged against the white pillow. The healthy aura he’d possessed when I’d walked in seemed to be fading away by the second. ‘Who has it? Who took it?’
‘Not a fiend,’ I said quickly. ‘It was a dragon.’
His head jerked. ‘Dragons only care for gold,’ he whispered. ‘It was the chess set. Daisy Carter found the chess set. None of the other mythical treasure is golden.’
I could say one thing for Mud: he certainly knew his stuff. ‘Yes,’ I said quietly. ‘It was the chess set.’
A weary smile lit his face. ‘Mud wishes he could have been there.’
‘It was amazing.’ Until it wasn’t. I drew in a breath. ‘But we don’t have the chess set now. The dragon has it.’ I leaned forward. ‘Dragons are big and scary.’ I touched the singed edges of my hair. ‘And they have a lot of fire at their disposal. Special fire. Dragon fire. A fiend wouldn’t attempt to go against a dragon.’ I paused. ‘Right? The chess set is safe?’
Mud’s eyes met mine then looked away. ‘Fiends are not afraid of fire, Daisy Carter. You already know that. Even dragon fire poses little challenge. The risk for a fiend is easily worth the reward, and they will risk a great deal for one of the thirteen mythical treasures. Dragons are strong but they are far from invincible.’
He sighed. ‘Lord Hugo Pemberville promised he would look for the treasure. He did not break that promise. This is not his fault. Nor is it Daisy Carter’s.’
I stared at him for a long moment. ‘This isn’t over yet, Mr McAlpine. No fiend will get their grubby mitts on that chess set – and no dragons will be harmed.’ Not if I had anything to do with it.
Otis and Hester were waiting outside, flitting anxiously around the main entrance and causing palpitations in the hospital visitors who noticed them.
‘Well?’ Hester demanded. ‘What did he say?’
Otis jabbed her with his finger. ‘More to the point, how is he doing? Is he recovering?’
Her face screwed up. ‘Alright, let’s go with that first. Is Mr McAlpine still breathing?’
I didn’t smile. ‘Yes. He’s still very ill but he’s doing a lot better. I think he’ll be okay if he has a lot of rest.’
Otis nodded happily then he clocked my expression. ‘The threat of a dragon won’t make a fiend back off,’ he said. ‘Right?’
‘Right.’
Hester looked delighted. ‘So we’re going after the dragon?’
‘We have to,’ Otis said. ‘We have to secure the treasure and keep it safe.’
‘And see the dragon again!’ She beamed at me and bounced up and down. ‘We can go now. My clothes are still packed.’ She spun around, raised her hand to her mouth and whistled loudly for a taxi. Unsurprisingly, none appeared.
I stayed where I was. ‘What did you two find out?’
‘A few bits and pieces,’ Hester said dismissively. ‘Nothing of great importance.’
I looked at Otis. He fidgeted. ‘The story about those old treasure hunters, the MacAllens, appears to be true. They were killed by a dragon.’ He paused. ‘The dragon that we met.’
‘There’s no proof it was our dragon!’ Hester pouted. ‘There were no witnesses, so nobody knows for sure what happened to them.’
‘There were no witnesses because everyone died,’ he told her. ‘The coroner’s report stated that the only thing that could have killed them and left nothing but piles of ash was dragon fire. And there were four purple-and-green dragon scales close by. Since the Second World War, there have only been three dragons left in Britain. Two are male and have red scales, and one is female.’ He added grimly, ‘And she has purple-and-green scales. The evidence is damning.’
‘Poppycock,’ Hester muttered, but her eyes slid away.
I wasn’t surprised by the revelation, though I still felt a lurch in the pit of my stomach. ‘What about the fiends?’ I asked. ‘Did you find out anything about them?’
This time Hester was more enthusiastic. ‘Yes! They’re highly dangerous and must be stopped at all costs.’
I looked at Otis; he was reluctant but he explained. ‘We sneaked into the library at the Royal Elvish Institute and found a few bits and pieces. It’s estimated that there are only nine fiends living in Britain, although that number will be eight now that Zashtum has gone.’
‘That’s eight too many!’ Hester burst out.
I agreed with her whole-heartedly. ‘Anything else?’ I asked.
‘While every fiend is cruel and sadistic, with Zashtum out of the way only two of them are considered to be real threats to the population at large. They’re a lot older than the others and are hungry for power – they’ve stolen magical objects in the past and drained them. While no fiend has any regard for the sanctity of life, those two are believed to be particularly … brutal. Their names are Vargas and Athair.’
Otis lifted his chin. ‘The other six are still dangerous, but those two are the worst. The good news is that there’s evidence to suggest none of the fiends like each other. They don’t work together. Fiends are solitary creatures who guard their own power and position with violent jealousy.’
I supposed that was something; dispatching a lone fiend felt feasible, but taking care of eight of the bastards at once seemed impossible. ‘Okay. That’s good. What about killing fiends?’
This time both brownies scowled. ‘Hugo was right,’ Hester said. ‘You don’t kill a fiend – you can’t. Given the right circumstances, a powerful witch can banish them from this realm but nobody has ever managed to kill one. If you don’t have the skills to banish one, the best you can hope for is to injure them so that they need to crawl into a hole for several decades to recuperate.’
That sucked. Still, at least I was already accustomed to playing the role of underdog.
‘Vargas hasn’t been sighted for thirty years,’ Otis said. ‘Nobody knows where he’s lurking, but he’s clearly gone to ground. It’s not unusual for fiends to stay out of sight for long periods of time – after all, until we had the misfortune to cross her path, Zashtum was last seen eight years ago when that train crashed near Bristol.’
My eyes widened. ‘She was responsible for that?’ Hundreds of people had died in that crash.
‘The investigators discovered traces of fiend magic,’ Otis replied. ‘And several witnesses saw her at the time, laughing hysterically next to one of the derailed carriages.’
I shivered. Thank goodness she was out of the way now. ‘And the other one? Athair?’
Hester answered. ‘He’s been seen numerous times in recent years. The sightings often coincide with the disappearance of magical items and the subsequent discovery of brutalised corpses. Athair is bolstering his magic – he’s planning something and has been for a long time. There’s nothing to suggest he’d worry about killing a dragon – he’d pull out all the stops to get his hands on an object as powerful as one of the thirteen mythical treasures.’ Then she added, more quietly, ‘And if he does, he’ll be unstoppable. Even an army of witches would struggle to banish him.’
Only the British Museum had the means to keep that damned chess set safe. I massaged my neck. ‘There’s no choice. We have to retrieve the treasure from the dragon and get it to London where no fiend can touch it.’
Hester pumped her tiny fists in the air. ‘And rescue the dragon in distress in the process!’
Somehow I doubted the dragon would see it that way. But sure. I shrugged. ‘There’s no choice.’
Otis’s shoulders slumped. ‘Back to Wales, then.’
‘Yep. But not straight away. We’re going to make a quick pitstop first.’
Chapter
Twenty
Pemberville Castle looked even grander at night. Although it was cloudy, there was enough moonlight to illuminate the towers and turrets. There were only a few lights on the ground floor and everywhere else was dark. With luck, most of the Primes – and Hugo – were already asleep. I certainly hoped so.
Hester was buzzing, a broad grin on her face. Unsurprisingly, Otis was upset. ‘It’s not too late to change your mind about this, Daisy. All you have to do is explain everything to Hugo.’
I’d already made my decision; this was the best – and safest – course of action. It would keep Hugo and the rest of the Primes safe.
‘We’ve been through this,’ I whispered. ‘The dragon will spook if a posse of people show up at her door. One person on their own has more chance of success than a large group. My days are already numbered so it makes sense that I’m the one who risks their life. Hugo will understand.’ Eventually. Or so I hoped.
‘He’ll hate you.’
But he’d be safe. ‘That’s a risk I’m willing to take.’
Otis tutted sadly but I wasn’t going to argue with him about it. I tiptoed forward and called out in a low voice, ‘Duchess? It’s me! Daisy!’
There was no immediate answer. She was probably fast asleep, but I knew she’d wake up the moment I tried to cross the bridge in front of the castle entrance. I shuffled another inch or two and tried again. The plan was to keep her quiet, not encourage a troll-based hullabaloo. ‘Duchess!’ I hissed.
‘You’re interrupting my beauty sleep!’
I exhaled. She was awake. ‘Please,’ I said. ‘I need you to stay quiet. I need—’
It only took her a second to launch herself out from underneath the bridge. She planted both her feet on the stone and glared at me. ‘What? What do you want?’
‘Uh…’ My mouth worked uselessly. The sight of Duchess in a nightcap and gown as if she were Wee Willie Winkie had caught me off guard. I shook myself and tried not to stare. ‘I … uh … need to sneak into the castle without anyone knowing. Will you let me cross the bridge? Quietly?’
Her pale eyes glittered. ‘Why do you want to sneak inside?’
The truth couldn’t hurt. ‘I want to steal something.’
In an instant Duchess’s expression transformed from irritated to gleeful. ‘Well, well, well! So little Daisy is nothing more than a grubby thief? How delightful! Be my guest.’
I didn’t waste any time; Duchess could be mercurial. Before she changed her mind, I started to cross the bridge, swinging around her large body to get to the other side.
‘It’s about time that high-elf bastard got what’s coming to him!’ Duchess chortled. ‘Smarmy high-elf wanker!’
I should have kept moving, it would have been the smart thing to do. Instead, I halted in my tracks. Yeah, sometimes I was my own worst enemy. ‘That’s not fair.’ I turned to face the troll.
‘Daisy!’ Otis flicked my earlobe in alarm. ‘What are you doing? Stop talking and keep moving!’
I ignored him and focused on Duchess. ‘Hugo has been very good to you. He lets you into his home for afternoon tea. He’s extending your quarters and making sure you’re comfortable. You’re constantly rude to him, yet he’s polite to you.’ I hesitated. ‘Mostly polite to you.’
Confused, Duchess placed her clawed hands on her hips and tilted her head. Unfortunately for all of us, I was only getting warmed up. ‘He is kind and loyal,’ I continued. ‘He’s not perfect, but he’s willing to admit when he’s wrong, and he cares about his people. He’s a good man.’
‘And,’ Hester contributed, ‘he’s incredibly sexy and the mere thought of him makes Daisy squirm with lust.’
‘Exactly!’ I said, then I coughed. ‘Wait, no. I didn’t mean that.’ I pulled a face. ‘All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t be mean about him. He’s … nice,’ I finished lamely.
Duchess was still staring at me. ‘If he’s so nice, why are you stealing from him?’
I shifted my weight. ‘It’s a long story.’
‘If you say so, girlie.’ She waggled her eyebrows and I suddenly recognised the glint in her eyes. Uh-oh. It was time to stop talking and start moving.
‘Anyway,’ I said quickly, ‘I’ve got to go now!’ I turned and darted for the castle door, half-expecting Duchess to attack me from behind for daring to admonish her. Instead, all I heard was her mocking laugh.
This time I didn’t stop. With sweaty palms, I wrenched at the heavy door. To my relief it wasn’t locked and I slipped inside.
