Bloodmagic

Page 17

“Fucking Winter Solstice.”
I stood up, wincing slightly at the pain, and grinned. The Clava Cairns. My trip to pick up the blisterwort for Mrs Alcoon notwithstanding, I didn’t know much about the Cairns themselves. However what I did know from a few of the old tomes from the bookshop was that during the Winter Solstice, they attracted a number of hippy druid types because when the sun went down, the light hit one particular spot at the back wall of one of the Cairns that gave enough of a hint to humankind that they were built with much more design than first glance might suggest. I’d had an inkling that first time I’d read about them when I’d entered Mrs Alcoon’s shop for the first time and pulled that first book off the shelf; I just hadn’t allowed myself to really think about it in depth because I’d been trying to avoid having anything at all to do with the Otherworld, even thoughts. But what I’d always really known without consciously forming the words was that they were a portal, or had been once. Not a particularly powerful one - my previous visit to the Cairns had proven that - but one that worked most effectively during that one particular moment. That moment was gone – it was far too dark and far too late now – and the knowledge of how to work the death gate had probably also disappeared into the annals of lost history anyway. But whatever lingering otherworldly traces there were might well just be enough to cover the traces and tracks that I left that would solve the immediate problem of the mages and their tracking spells. And the hippies were no doubt still there, camping out and stoned, so I could slot myself into one of their groups. That would cover the problem of the police.
“Outfuckingstanding,” I said aloud. I had a plan. Not a great one, or a long term one, but one that would get me through the next hours at the very least. It was a start.
I reached inside myself and pulled up a fat tendril of heat, willing it to pump through my veins. With the fire heating me up from the inside and providing me with the energy I’d need, I knew I could get to the Cairns inside ninety minutes. And this time without a smelly bus and a smellier drunk. I ignored the aches and jabs of pain rippling through my body and began to run. Faster than before, although with more care to avoid any more feline collisions, I started to pelt my way through the streets of Inverness.
Chapter Thirteen
The last time I’d made the journey to the Cairns, I’d been able to take advantage of the local transport system. Unfortunately buses don’t tend to run at 3am in rural Scotland, so I was going to have to travel by foot this time. I knew that this was when I would be at my most vulnerable. The mages would not doubt be casting their locator spells at right that very moment, so it wouldn’t be long before they’d be able to catch up with me.
I ran fast, wending my way through the different twists and turns that led me out of the small city. The air was still bitterly cold but the pace I kept up and the adrenaline skipping through my system was keeping me warm. The curl of heat from the blood fire inside me was also active, allowing me to fire, no pun intended, on all cylinders. I kept my eyes out for any more potential collisions with crazy midnight moggies who had a death wish, but my luck was finally in and I didn’t see a soul, whether it be animal, human or otherworld.
Before too long I was on the edge of Inverness, making my way onto a small worn path that ran alongside the road that the bus had taken when I’d travelled that way weeks before. Despite the frigidity of the night air, sweat was beginning to form on my forehead and I could feel my body getting sticky. Prickles of pain from the wooden shards that had embedded their way into my skin during the fight with Martha and her sci-fi friend were sending unpleasant shivers through my body, but I resolutely ignored them and kept on running. At one point, I clenched my fists as I stumbled slightly over the uneven ground and the pain level increased dramatically; when I glanced down at my hands a rippling green flame was flickering over them, barely half a centimeter high. I swallowed and looked away. I supposed about the only thing I could be thankful for right about now was that Corrigan hadn’t tried to contact me again. I wondered what he’d meant when he’d said that I had initiated the Voice. He was obviously just trying to unsettle me, but I wasn’t sure to what end. His little mind games were becoming irritating.
I made good time and reached the turn off where the bus had previously dropped me off without any further incident. By now I was breathing hard with the exertion and feeling slightly dizzy. Not for the first time I wished that I’d paid more attention to my ever decreasing fitness levels.
There was a glow of light from what I assumed was the hippy encampment up ahead, and some kind of distant humming drone that sounded vaguely familiar. The familiar heady scent of lavender rose up into the air around me and, now that my goal was in sight, I started to slow somewhat to a more manageable jog. The fact that there had been no sign of any mage-like activity was comforting and I was starting to hope that perhaps I was getting away and that they wouldn’t bother coming after me.
As I got closer to the Cairns themselves, I realised that the humming sound was coming from a particularly annoying didgeridoo. I winced. Aborigines aside, it baffled me as to why anyone would choose that as an instrument to play. I could now make out some individual campfires and clusters of people sat around chatting and drinking, occasionally taking long drawn out gulps from bottles that were being passed around. The smell of the lavender was giving way to the pungent odour of marijuana, and the low chatter of a couple of dozen voices was becoming more distinct. Trying to appear less conspicuous (after all, who goes for a jog in the middle of night in wintery Scotland?), I slowed now to a walk, thrusting my hands into pockets just in case they were still glowing with green fire.
I was a bit surprised, and definitely relieved, that there wasn’t a police presence. It was possible, of course, that they were all off dealing with a sudden terrible fire in the middle of town. The people sat around chatting barely registered me, although as I swung around towards the stones themselves, one slurred voice did call out lazily.
“Want a smoke, flower?”
Flower? A spasm of irritation caught me and I flicked my eyes over in the direction of where the voice was coming from. A lanky long haired man with a yellow anorak on was lying propped up on one elbow, casually holding out a joint. As if clouding my mind was going to help me now.
“No, thanks mate,” I called back, struggling to keep the edge out of my voice.
“Hey, no problem,” he drawled out. “Come back if you change your mind.”
At that point his eyes focused on some point behind me and I could just make out his pupils widening in the dark. “Far out,” he whispered, and whistled softly.
A tendril of dread joined the heat in my stomach and I glanced around to see what he was looking at. My stomach lurched as my eyes fixed on a snaking blue light that was making its way inexorably through the groups of people, following the path I had just taken and heading right for me. Shit. I turned round and ran.
The stones were just up ahead, scant metres away. It would do me no good reaching them if the locator spell found me first however. I lacked the skill to open the portal, even it had still been dusk and the Cairns were at their most powerful. I still didn’t know much about how these tracing spells worked, despite having seen Alex put them into action, and I didn’t know if having tracked me this far it was already too late, but I had to try to avoid it and then maybe I’d still have a fighting chance somehow. Perhaps if the power of the Cairns interfered with it, it would get confused and head off in another direction. I had to hope.
I sprinted, avoiding some empty cans of lager that were scattering the pathway, as well as managing to just stop myself colliding with a couple that were snogging next to one of the standing stones. Mustering up every last ounce of energy I had, I pelted through the corbelled passageway towards the back wall of the cairn, afraid to look behind me. Tea light candles were flickering next to the wall of rocks, creating some sort of miniature shrine. What the reason for this was, I had no idea, and I inadvertently kicked a few over as I slammed into the rock face. I turned, pressing my hands against the rough stone surface and blinked rapidly, trying to focus to see where the blue snake of light was.
It was hovering back at the entrance to the cairn, flicking its almost animal like head one way or another. The kissing couple had broken off from their embrace and were poking at it with outstretched fingers, eyes widened in wonder. I spared a moment of curiosity as to how the Ministry would prevent reports of a mysterious blue light appearing during the winter solstice from filtering across the internet, but that thought quickly vanished into a wave of desperate relief as the light abruptly blinked out of existence, leaving just the dark night behind in its wake. I sank down against the wall until I was on my haunches, closing my eyes in a mixture of disbelief and liberation. It had worked.
I allowed myself a moment’s respite, resting my head against the rough cool stones and blanking my mind. Then I straightened up and prepared my mental checklist. I had to, in no particular order, avoid being either detected or found by the Ministry of Mages, the Pack or the police; I had to find some way to rescue Mrs Alcoon from the coma-like stasis the mages had put her under and convince them that she was exactly what she appeared to be – nothing more than an elderly Scottish woman with a bare smattering of magic; keep my promise to Solus and tell him that I was of the Draco Wyr and hope that he didn’t attempt to drain my blood so he could use it for whatever it could be used for; and find out why, all of a sudden, I could call up green flames at my fingertips. Easy.
Mrs Alcoon was relatively safe for now and, besides which, there had been no sign of Solus since he’d bundled her off to Tir-na-Nog. I was somewhat surprised that he’d not taken advantage of the differences in time to show his face again and to demand his ‘reward’, but I decided that I couldn’t worry about that right now. Notwithstanding annoying mental intrusions, the Pack were nowhere in sight and therefore would be easy to avoid. More pressing were my concerns about the mages and the police. The cloaking power of the Cairns wouldn’t last long – the Winter Solstice was already virtually over. My magical knowledge was not strong and I knew I couldn’t count on the Cairns to hide me forever. Unless the mages were absolute idiots they’d work out I was here sooner or later anyway, as would the local police. Enough so-called druids and hippies, no matter how stoned they were, had seen me here. My previous idea of merging myself into one of their groups was probably a foolish one. If I involved myself with more humans, I’d probably only succeed in involving them in lots of trouble. I didn’t need any more on my conscience than I already had.