Page 8

Chapter 8

I gave Benji another hug. He had decided that he wanted to stay in Edinburgh to teach David the ropes; I suspected that he didn’t want David to feel as lonely as he had done. It was incredibly kind so, although I’d miss him, I didn’t argue with his decision. Benji deserved the chance to make up his own mind, be the master of his fate – as much as he could be with the Council’s claws dug firmly into his soul.

He hugged me back gently. ‘I’ll miss you, Am Bam,’ he whispered.

I smiled. ‘You’ll be so busy making friends you won’t have time to miss me. If you need me, call. You’ve got a phone now.’ Bastion had given Benji one of his burner phones and put in his own, Oscar’s and my numbers. We were only a call away if he needed us.

‘I will, Am. ’

‘Be careful of black witches,’ I pleaded. ‘No heroics. If you see anything suspicious, let me know. I’ll deal with them.’ Or, more likely, Bastion would.

Benji nodded, eyes serious. ‘I will,’ he promised again.

I slid into the back of the car with Bastion close behind me. Oscar started the engine and we moved off. Now we were alone, I could demand some answers. As I turned to him, Bastion held up one finger. He rooted around in his backpack then pulled out a small handheld device, turned it on and started waving it around the inside of the car.

‘You’re checking for bugs,’ I surmised.

He nodded then switched off the device and put it back in his backpack. ‘We’re good.’ He was still eyeing the shadows in the car intently. ‘How do you feel about Frogmatch?’ he asked. ‘Do you trust him?’

‘As much as I trust anyone, I guess. He’s definitely helped us a lot these last few days.’

Bastion settled back in his seat. ‘Tell me about the vampyr.’

‘Not much to tell. It turns out my father is a necromancer and he sent a vampyr to have a tête-à-tête with me. I killed it. End of story.’ I wanted to brush aside the whole episode. ‘Now, more importantly, how the hell did you lie under truth runes?’

He looked at me intently. ‘I didn’t.’

‘Obviously you did! I’m Ellie Tron and I killed Hilary.’ And now I had a vampyr to add to my list of victims; I was turning into quite the serial killer. I shoved the dark feeling down. That was the healthy way to deal with it. ‘What’s going on?’ I asked. ‘How did you lie?’

Bastion looked frustrated and exchanged a glance with Oscar.

‘What’s going on?’ I repeated, letting my frustration with them both leak into my voice. I’m not into swearing, but at that moment cuss words were starting to feel like a good addition to my vocabulary. How had Bastion avoided the truth runes? Had he somehow built up an immunity to them?

‘We can’t tell you,’ Bastion sighed. ‘You’ve got to work it out for yourself. It seems obvious to me, but I guess it’s different when you don’t know. You have to put all of the clues together.’ Obviously frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair.

Great: now I was feeling stupid on top of everything else.

‘You’ve been stubbornly avoiding the biggest clue,’ Bastion added. ‘I know you hate it, Amber, but it’s time to go to the Seers.’

My stomach lurched. The prophecy; the prophecy about me. The one Mum had mentioned a number of times, the one I’d been avoiding at all costs. I hated fate, hated prophecy. Dammit, I was the mistress of my own ship. ‘The Hall of Prophecy,’ I shifted uncomfortably at the thought.

‘Not there,’ Bastion disagreed. ‘Melva. We need to go to Melva.’

‘What? Why?’

‘Because Melva never registered it.’

I started. Melva was the Seers’ High Priestess and their laws are clear: they have to register a prophecy within three years. Melva had never struck me as a rebel. ‘She never registered it? Why the heck not?’

‘The prophecy paints a target on your back, Bambi. Your mum didn’t want your dad getting wind of it. The prophecy was spilled just before your father … left. If he’d learned of its existence, as your parent he could have accessed it until you were eighteen years old when it became your property.’

‘You think that’s one of the reasons Mum kicked him to the kerb when she did,’ I stated slowly.

Bastion nodded. Great. Now I not only felt stupid, I felt guilty, too. My parents’ marital breakdown could be laid at my prophecy-cursed door.

I frowned. ‘The Seers are supposed to register the prophecy within three years, right? Couldn’t Melva have registered it after my father disappeared?’

Bastion looked serious. ‘Yes. If her omission becomes known, she could lose her position as High Priestess.’

Oh heck. Melva had risked a lot to keep me safe. As I’d done errand after errand for her over the years I’d thought that she owed me , but it turned out the scales had always been weighted in her favour. I just hadn’t known it.

‘Good luck getting an appointment,’ Oscar grunted bitterly. ‘Her secretary is a right ogre.’ He paused. ‘Not a real one, obviously. She actually appears to be a low-level Seer herself.’

‘This is fascinating,’ a little voice piped up. ‘I do love a good prophecy!’

Bastion didn’t move a muscle, didn’t so much as blink. He’d known we’d had a stowaway from the start.

‘Hello, Frogmatch,’ I said to the disembodied voice, amused. ‘Did you sneak into our car?’

‘I did, your ladyship, I did.’

‘Do you promise not to break it?’ I pressed. Imps adore sabotaging cars, trains and planes. If it moves, they want to break it. The last thing we needed was a flat tyre on top of everything else.

There was a sigh. ‘You ask a lot, but since destiny is calling I won’t play with the electronics. It wouldn’t do for you to be late for destiny. Well … lat er. It seems this prophecy has already been hanging about for a while, Ellie.’ Frogmatch scurried out of the boot of the car and smiled at me with a mouth full of spiky teeth.

Frogmatch is eight inches tall and has vibrant red skin, which looked far brighter than it had when he’d visited me in the clinic after a vampyr had removed his tail. I’d healed the tail and saved his life; in exchange he’d given me a kiss and an offer of help. Last night I’d summoned him to my cell and an hour later he had appeared – how, I had no idea. I knew very little about imp magic: they are a secretive bunch.

I’d asked Frogmatch for his help, outlined what I needed him to do, and he’d scurried off to save my bacon. As it turned out, Bastion had also been plotting to save me in his own way, but I figured both of them had contributed to my release .

Now Frogmatch was standing before me, his forked tail curved up his body, his right hand wrapped around it as if he were reassuring himself that it was still there. His antlers were in fine fettle and he had a little white loincloth looped around his waist to preserve his modesty. Apart from the loincloth he was naked. His toenails were curved and black, like mini-claws; they were probably quite good as a defence weapon, but frankly the pocket-sized talons looked adorable.

‘Prophecy is for the directionless,’ I harrumphed to the imp. ‘I know what I’m doing with my life.’

‘If the griffin says you need to know it, then you need to know it.’ Frogmatch waggled a finger at me.

I was being schooled by a creature no bigger than my hand, and the worst thing was that he was completely right. I sighed. It looked like I was going prophecy hunting.