The Salted Sceptre

by Helen Harper

Genres: Dragons & Mythical Creatures; Romantic Fantasy; Urban Fantasy

Synopsis

All my dreams are coming true. But some nightmares continue to lurk in the shadows.

I should be celebrating. Hell, I should be the happiest elf in the world. Unfortunately, I can’t revel in my successes when there’s a foul fiend who is relentlessly trying to lure me to his side. He won’t leave me in peace and he seems determined to plunge the country into chaos to get what he wants, using bloodshed, fear and malevolent magic.

Still, I’m no stranger to stubbornness. If I can turn the tables and become the hunter instead of the hunted, I might have a chance. The odds are stacked against me but I’m not alone in this fight - and I refuse to be anyone’s puppet.

Salted Sceptre is the fourth and final novel in The Thrill of the Hunt, an urban fantasy series set in Scotland and beyond. Expect thrilling adventure, deeply felt love and maybe, just maybe, a happy ending.

 

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Release date: September 30, 2024

Print pages: 293

Sample

Chapter One
 
One month. I heaved myself further up the side of the steep hill, my thigh muscles straining
with every step.
One month and three days.
Wiping the clammy sweat from my forehead, I raised my head and eyed Hugo who
was a few metres in front of me. He was wearing camouflage trousers; despite the loose fit
around his legs, the material was straining across his arse and leaving little to the
imagination. If the seam split, I knew I’d see his tighty-whities. I’d watched him put them on
this morning from the comfort of my sleeping bag. I would enjoy taking them off him later
this evening.
One month, three days and five hours.
Hester, who was nestled against the crook of my neck, gave a contented snore. Otis
flitted in the air beside me, his tiny iridescent wings flapping as he fought against the breeze
that was gusting down from the summit. He’d declined to sit on my shoulder, announcing
that he needed the exercise, but I was certain that he’d been regretting that decision for the
last hour. He was determined to keep going, though, as if his display of grit and resilience
would somehow transfer to me by osmosis. I shrugged; stranger things had happened.
One month, three days, five hours and thirty-six minutes.
‘It’s not much further,’ Hugo called over his shoulder. ‘The gully is just ahead.’
I tightened my jaw and forced a final burst of energy into my aching limbs. It took a
second but they finally responded. I caught up with him then scrambled the last few metres
on all fours until we reached the rocky outcrop.
Hugo glanced at me, his blue eyes crinkling and his dimple flashing. ‘This is it.
We’ve made it. You see the cairn in the bottom corner?’
I nodded and gazed down at the small stone monument nestled below us. It wasn’t
particularly impressive; no wonder generations of hikers had passed it by without further
investigation. But if I concentrated very hard, I could sense the faint throb of old magic
pulsating from the ground beneath it. This was definitely the right spot.
Hugo swung his bag off his shoulder and rummaged inside it. ‘It’s a steep drop,’ he
said. ‘We should use a rope to reach the cairn, just in case.’
Uh-huh. I watched him for a moment or two then I started forward, slipping and
sliding down the rocky gully. It wasn’t that steep.
‘Daisy!’ he yelled.

‘We don’t need a rope,’ I said. ‘I’ve got this.’
‘If you slip and break your ankle, I’ll be the one who has to carry you all the way back
down. I’ve told you, we need to be cautious.’
I took another confident step downwards.
Hugo was on a roll. ‘Rushing into situations without undue attention is—’
I misjudged the slope and slid on a patch of scree. My arms flailed in mid-air as I lost
my balance and pitched forward. Oops.
Hester, jerking awake from her snooze, shrieked, ‘What? What’s going on?’
Behind me, Hugo muttered something. As I wobbled, I sensed the surge of magic
emanating from his fingertips. In the split second before I started to tumble headfirst towards
the sharp rocks beneath me, a powerful blast of air pushed me upright again. Phew.
‘Thank you!’ I called out cheerfully.
Hugo muttered again. ‘If you break your damned neck, Daisy…’
I sucked in a breath and regained my balance. ‘Then I’m sure you’ll arrange a very
nice funeral,’ I told him, continuing my descent without a backward glance.
‘Where every mourner will agree that you brought your own death upon your own
head because of your own foolhardiness.’
‘That’s as maybe.’ I skidded down the last section and reached the cairn before I
turned my head to grin at him. ‘But they’ll also acknowledge that I beat you.’ I paused for
breath. ‘Sucker.’
Hugo scowled, then stuck out his tongue at me. He was a very sore loser. To be fair,
so was I.
‘I don’t want to go to your funeral, Daisy,’ Otis said. ‘You need to listen to Hugo and
take more care.’ He looked at Hester, clearly expecting his sister to back him up.
She only sniffed. ‘I have a great funeral outfit,’ she said. ‘Several great funeral outfits,
in fact. And I’m sure there’ll be an excellent feast afterwards. Nothing beats funeral food.’
That was more like it. I smirked and returned my attention to the cairn. If the old map
was correct, the jewelled ceremonial dagger was buried underneath it. I adjusted my footing
and knelt to begin the search.
One month, three days, five hours and thirty-eight minutes since I’d last swallowed
any spider’s silk pills. Not that I was counting.

***

It took far less time to climb down the side of the hill than it had to climb up it. The small
team of Primes who were waiting at the campsite must have been watching our descent
because they had mugs of steaming hot tea ready for us when we returned.
‘Well?’ Becky asked. ‘Did you find it?’
‘Do you even have to ask?’ Hester enquired.
Hugo produced the dagger and held it up for their perusal. Rizwan beamed. ‘Brilliant!
Well done, Hugo!’
‘Daisy found it,’ Hugo said calmly. I raised an eyebrow. ‘It’s the truth. I can admit it,’
He passed the dagger to Rizwan then leaned down and whispered in my ear, ‘And that
admission proves that I’m the bigger person, Daisy.’
I choked. Hugo grinned serenely, although I was well aware he was still annoyed that
I’d not waited for the rope. ‘Bigger, sure,’ I retorted. ‘But not better.’ I stepped back so I
could look into his eyes. His grin widened.
‘This is an incredible specimen of sixteenth-century workmanship.’ Rizwan pointed
to the dirt-encrusted jewels on the dagger’s hilt. ‘Look at the way these stones have been cut.’
‘I can feel the magic bound into the blade,’ Becky breathed. ‘It’s an extraordinary
item.’
Miriam took a sip from her mug of tea then peered over their shoulders. ‘The British
Museum will be pleased that it’s been found after all these years. I suspect the finder’s fee
will be impressive.’
‘Yay!’ Otis’s fist pumped the air. ‘Go, Daisy!’
Hester rolled her eyes, but when Hugo glared at her she cleared her throat. ‘Yes. Well
done, Daisy. You did a good job.’
I eyed the group. ‘You don’t have to overdo your enthusiasm on my account.’
Becky jerked and guilt flashed across Rizwan’s face; Miriam, however, tilted her mug
towards me in a toast. Hugo didn’t react at all, which only confirmed my suspicions.
I sighed. ‘What’s it really worth?’
‘It is from the sixteenth century, dear,’ Miriam said. Her eyes twinkled.
‘These gems are real,’ Rizwan said.
‘It’s an important historical item,’ Becky added.
I put my hands on my hips and looked at them. ‘Don’t make me start tapping my
toes,’ I warned.
Hester gasped in mock horror. ‘Oh no! Not toe tapping!’ Otis elbowed her sharply.
Hugo grimaced. ‘Fine. Its value probably extends to five or six hundred pounds.’

Uh-huh. I was no financial expert, and I didn’t oversee the Primes’ budget, but I
wasn’t completely stupid. Between campsite fees, wages, research hours, petrol and
equipment costs, this venture had probably cost several grand. Treasure hunting was
supposed to make us money, not cost us money.
‘You can’t measure worth solely in monetary terms,’ Hugo added quietly. ‘Nobody
has seen this dagger for hundreds of years. Its historical value is immense.’ I waited. He gave
me a long look. ‘And if it helps distract you and occupy your mind, then it’s priceless.’
There we go. I pushed away the surge of frustration. ‘You don’t have to invent
treasure hunts to keep me busy.’
‘We didn’t invent it, Daisy,’ Becky burst out. ‘It was a real treasure hunt.’ She
pointed to the dagger. ‘That’s real treasure.’
Arguing with this lot was a waste of time. ‘I appreciate the thought, truly I do, but you
can’t walk around me on eggshells. You can’t create treasure hunts out of thin air just to
please me and keep me busy. I’m doing okay. I’m managing.’
I turned my head and met Hugo’s eyes. ‘I will tell you if I’m not coping, I promise.’ I
forced the corners of my mouth into a smile.
‘It’s not just for you,’ Hugo said. ‘Even if the dagger isn’t very valuable, searching for
items like it is a great way to keep up our skills until a larger treasure hunt presents itself. We
didn’t do this just for you, Daisy.’ I gazed at him until a muscle jerked in his jaw. ‘But okay,’
he admitted. ‘It was mostly for you.’
I considered his words and my reaction to them, then pushed myself up on tiptoe and
planted a brief kiss on his cheek. ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘I appreciate your good intentions. But
don’t do it again, not on my behalf.’
‘Alright.’
My smile became genuine. ‘Thank you,’ I repeated.
Everything was fine. I was managing. Just.

***

We were less than an hour away from Edinburgh on our return journey when Miriam’s phone
pinged. A moment later Becky and Rizwan’s phones also chimed with notifications. I turned
around from my coveted spot in the front passenger seat and immediately noted their pale
faces as they read the messages. My stomach knotted with dread.

Before I could ask what the problem was, Hugo’s phone started to ring. As he was
driving, he answered on speaker. I held my breath and waited.
‘Pemberville,’ he grunted.
‘Ah, Hugo old chap.’ It was Sir Nigel.
The wealthy older man, who was part of high-elvish society despite being human,
usually burbled his way through life with stoical cheeriness; right now, though, his voice was
strained and I was certain I could hear panicked shouting in the background. I wasn’t the only
one; Hester and Otis had bolted upright and even Hugo was looking concerned. ‘Are you in
the city by any chance?’
‘Edinburgh?’ Hugo asked. ‘I’m about forty minutes away.’
Sir Nigel sucked in a sharp breath. ‘And Lady Daisy?’
Normally I suffered a discomfiting shiver when someone used my official title. My
elevated status, together with my sobriety, were recent developments that I was still coming
to terms with.
Given Sir Nigel’s tone, I suddenly had other concerns. ‘I’m here,’ I said. ‘So are three
of the Primes – Miriam, Becky and Rizwan.’
‘Jolly good.’ Sir Nigel didn’t sound jolly or good, he sounded anything but. ‘We have
a slight problem at the Royal Elvish Institute,’ he continued. ‘I wonder if you could both drop
by?’ He paused. ‘As quickly as possible. I understand that Daisy may not yet be up to large
gatherings, but I wouldn’t ask if it were not urgent.’
Hugo removed one hand from the Jeep’s steering wheel, reached over and squeezed
my fingers. As he did so, down the phone line we heard a woman shrieking. Whatever was
happening, it wasn’t good.
I gripped Hugo’s fingers for a second before pulling back my hand so my fingers
could stray to my pocket. There was no baggie nestling there with spider’s silk pills inside it,
only a bit of fluff. ‘What’s going on, Sir Nigel?’ I asked, although I suspected I already knew
at least some of the answer.
‘It’s probably better if you see it for yourself,’ he answered. There was another loud
scream. ‘I had better go. I will see you soon.’ The phone call cut out.
Miriam leaned forward and held up her phone. ‘I have a photo,’ she said. She
suddenly sounded even more off balance than Sir Nigel. ‘It’s a bit blurry.’
I took her phone from her hand and squinted at the screen. Oh. Bile rose in my
mouth. Oh.
‘Daisy?’ Hugo asked.

I didn’t immediately answer. I wasn’t sure I had any words to offer him.
‘What is it? What’s happened?’ he demanded.
Hester peered over my shoulder. Otis flapped his way closer to the screen and tilted
his head. ‘Something is, uh, dripping down the front of the Royal Elvish Institute. Some sort
of liquid.’ His voice quivered. ‘It might be paint.’
‘That’s not paint,’ Hester whispered.
‘Whatever it is, there’s a lot of it,’ Becky said. ‘It’s covering half the building and—’
she swallowed ‘—there’s a word.’
Hugo’s knuckles tightened. ‘Tell me.’
‘It says Daisy,’ Rizwan said. ‘In big dripping red letters.’
Massive letters.
I finally found my voice. ‘Hester’s right, it’s not paint.’ I stared at the image. There
was only one person who could be responsible for this very deliberate, very pointed act of
vandalism: Athair. My fucking birth father.
The fear deep inside me was hardening into rage. ‘It’s blood.’

 

Chapter Two
 
Not only had the police cordoned off the whole of Charlotte Square, they’d also evacuated all
the residents. We had to present ourselves to four different officers and produce identification
three separate times to gain access to the area, and even then we couldn’t get close to the
building. Nobody could. There was an inner cordon that prevented anyone from going near
the Royal Elvish Institute. Not that anyone wanted to get close.
From thirty metres away, standing close to a large bronze statue of Prince Albert on a
horse, I saw a group of sorcerers that included Gordon Mackenzie and Boonder. Their
familiar faces eased my tension slightly. There were also a huddle of witches, a few heavily
armed police officers and a sprinkling of highly placed elves. Everyone else must have been
ejected from the area long before our arrival.
The building looked considerably worse than it had in the photo. Presumably the
police had set up the spotlights to illuminate its façade, but I truly wished they hadn’t
bothered because they made the wet blood glisten in a sickening fashion. The smell didn’t
help, either. I’d never had the dubious pleasure of visiting an abattoir and if they smelled
anything like this, I’d make sure I never did.
I stared at the huge red letters that spelled out my name. I’d known that sooner or later
Athair would come for me but I’d hoped to have more time – and I’d never imagined that his
calling card would look anything like this.
Hugo stepped closer to me and wrapped his arm supportively around my waist. The
brownies stayed on my shoulder, even though Otis was rigid with fright. Miriam, Rizwan and
Becky also remained close. Their proximity meant a great deal and, if I were honest, it
stopped me running away to dive under my duvet and pretend none of this was happening.
‘Daddy Dearest is a showy bastard,’ I muttered in a deliberate display of defiance. I
turned to Sir Nigel who was approaching with a woman. She was human, barely five feet tall,
with plump cheeks that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a bucolic painting of a country
farmhouse. Despite her wholesome physical appearance, she exuded authority.
‘Thank you for coming so quickly,’ Sir Nigel said, as if there had been any real choice
in the matter. ‘Lady Daisy, Lord Pemberville, this is Detective Inspector O’Hagan. Don’t let
her humanity fool you. She’s tough as nails and highly experienced in dealing with issues
involving foul magic.’

O’Hagan dropped into a perfunctory, albeit practiced, curtsey and my eyes narrowed.
She was clearly used to dealing with high elves who demanded obvious shows of deference,
but I wasn’t one of them. Her gesture embarrassed me and made me feel out of place.
‘Call me Daisy,’ I said. ‘The title is more of a surprise to me than it is to anyone else
here. And if you curtsey again, I’ll think I’ve time travelled to the Regency period.’
O’Hagan raised an eyebrow. ‘Yes, I was told that you’d done some time travelling. I
was also told that I’d like you. I’m beginning to think my informants were correct.’
Hester flicked my earlobe. ‘What’s wrong with you?’ she hissed. ‘You should learn to
accept curtseys as your due.’
‘I’ll do that when you start curtseying to me,’ I retorted.
‘Me?’ She was aghast. ‘Curtsey to you?’
Hugo leaned into my other ear. ‘I’ll curtsey to you whenever you like, Daisy.’
I smiled. Both of them knew exactly how to make me feel better, even if O’Hagan
was now looking at us as if we were bonkers. I took advantage of my temporarily improved
state of mind and gestured towards the bloodied Royal Elvish Institute. ‘Is it human blood?’ I
asked.
I caught a flicker of relief in O’Hagan’s sharp eyes before it was replaced with steely
professionalism. She was likely glad that I wasn’t collapsing in hysterics – or pleased I
wasn’t swallowing illegal drugs right in front of her and complicating the situation even
further. Given how much she already knew about me, there was little doubt that she was
aware of my history as an addict.
I wondered if my hands were about to start shaking; I shoved them in my pockets just
in case.
‘I’m afraid so,’ O’Hagan said. ‘We’ve only conducted preliminary testing with our
on-site toolkit, but there appears to be blood from at least six different people.’ That was
hardly surprising given how much of it was covering the building. I wondered who those
people were and if they were now dead; it seemed likely.
‘How did the blood get there?’ Miriam asked.
‘The sorcerers have confirmed that it was through magical means. The perpetrator
didn’t climb up the side of the building and daub the letters himself.’ O’Hagan didn’t take her
eyes from me. ‘If we assume that it’s you who is being addressed, do you have any idea who
might have done this?’
She knew who’d done it, everyone did, but she wanted to hear it from me and to
gauge my reaction at the same time. ‘My father,’ I bit out. ‘The fiend called Athair.’ I paused,

wondering if she knew what fiends were because most people, even police officers, didn’t.
When she didn’t blink, I knew that she was already privy to that particular unsavoury secret.
‘Do you know what he wants?’ O’Hagan asked.
I grimaced. ‘My attention.’
‘Mmm.’ She glanced upwards. ‘I’d say he’s achieved that.’ She wasn’t wrong.
‘Unfortunately,’ O’Hagan continued, ‘because he is a fiend, I don’t have the authority or the
ability to bring him to justice. The Royal Elvish Institute holds sway here.’
Rather than dismay, I felt relief. I had no doubt that Detective Inspector O’Hagan was
an accomplished, dedicated and experienced officer but subduing fiends was beyond the
capability of any human police officer – or police force. And Athair was the most powerful
fiend this country had seen for generations.
‘If you see Athair,’ I told her, ‘the best thing you can do is run.’
Her eyes widened a fraction. I wasn’t trying to scare her, I was trying to warn her. She
nodded and moved away to speak to another group of bystanders.
Sir Nigel fixed Hugo and me with a morose look. ‘The Royal Elvish Institute cannot
allow this to stand,’ he said. His skin was pale and, for perhaps the first time ever, his
handlebar moustache appeared faintly askew with several whiskers out of place. ‘The board
has already convened. They’re sending a contingent of witches after Athair to banish the
bastard from this realm once and for all.’
I stiffened. ‘I’m not convinced that’s a good idea. I’m not sure that any number of
witches, no matter how skilled they are, will be able to banish him.’
Hugo nodded grimly. ‘Not to mention that the only ace up our sleeve as far as that
fiendish wanker is concerned is that he isn’t aware that we know he uses Culcreuch Castle as
a hideout. If a bunch of witches show up there, try to magic him out of existence and don’t
succeed…’
Sir Nigel held up his hands, pre-empting our concerns. ‘I share your worry. However,
the Royal Elvish Institute is nothing if not predictable. They were always going to try
something like this at some point. In fact, despite my protests, I suspect they’ve been
preparing the witches to go after Athair for a while. There is a lot to admire about the
Institute but, like you, I believe that any attempt to confront your father will end in a
bloodbath. I have not mentioned Culcreuch to them for that very reason. Very few people are
aware that Athair is living there.’
My furrowed. ‘If they don’t know where Athair is, how will they find him?’

Sir Nigel’s expression darkened further. ‘There have been reports in the last hour of
sightings of him near the Meadows.’ He was referring to a large expanse of grassy parkland
less than a mile from here. ‘The witches are already on their way there.’
I sucked in a sharp breath. Cumbubbling bollocks. Athair would only allow himself to
be seen if he wanted to be, so those witches were walking into a very obvious trap. ‘I have to
go to them. I can’t let them face Athair alone.’
Otis piped up from my shoulder. ‘You’re not strong enough to beat him either,
Daisy.’
Gladys, who was sheathed by my side, buzzed in disagreement but Otis was right. ‘I
know,’ I said quietly. ‘But he won’t hurt me.’ Much. ‘He wants me to join him. He doesn’t
want me dead.’ Not yet, anyway.
‘We’re with you,’ Becky said bravely. Behind her, Rizwan nodded agreement.
‘No,’ I said. ‘I’ll go alone.’
Hugo growled, ‘The fuck you will.’
‘We don’t have time to argue.’ The words had barely left my mouth when a faint
rumble came through the air, immediately followed by a tremor that shook the ground.
Several people shrieked and flocks of nesting birds nearby squawked in alarm then took to
the skies to flee. Otis and Hester joined them, rising up and flying at high speed to the edge of
the square. Good; I needed them to be safe.
Hugo’s blue eyes narrowed. ‘It appears we don’t have time for anything.’
The rumbling intensified and the earthquake grew stronger. I stumbled forward and
fell to the ground; the others were also pulled down with heavy thumps. Above the noise of
the groaning sky, I heard glass shattering in the windows around us. And then, amid all those
sounds, there was an odd whine that seemed to be coming from higher up.
The earth tremors continued to ripple across the square so trying to get to my feet was
pointless – I’d only end up flat on my arse again. Instead, I twisted my head and squinted into
the night sky to search for the source of the strange sound. I could see a few twinkling stars,
some dusky clouds with a glimmer from the moon behind them – and five dark shapes
suspended several hundred feet over my head.
As soon as I saw them they started to drop, as if they’d only been waiting for me to
notice them. Each shape plummeted downwards as whatever eerie magic that had held them
in place was released and gravity took over. Within a heartbeat, I realised that I was looking
at five people, all of whom were heading for a messy landing that would doubtless result in
their deaths.

A muted squeak escaped my lips and my right hand flailed towards Hugo, grabbing
his arm in warning. I felt his body twist to follow my gaze, but before he’d even spotted what
was happening I was already at work.
I conjured up a blast of powerful air magic that I directed towards the falling figures.
The magic slid out of me easily these days, unhampered by the effects of spider’s silk or any
concerns I might have about losing control. But supporting five people would take
considerable effort.
My air magic slowed their descent, and it helped that Hugo had joined in and flung up
some magic of his own. I felt others nearby also respond, sending up their own power,
snagging the bodies to lower them safely to the ground.
Sweat dribbled down my forehead as the figure on the right slipped free of the net of
magic and fell faster. As I struggled to pull out more magic to capture him, I heard Miriam
grunt and sensed her air magic plume upwards and ensnare his body. I released a breath.
That was when a bright, flickering light caught my eye. It was fire: flames had
appeared abruptly on the roof of the blood-soaked Royal Institute of Elves.
‘Fiend!’ somebody screamed. ‘That’s a fiend!’
Athair’s voice boomed out across the square. ‘You thought you could try and banish
me? Me?’
I didn’t dare look directly at him, not until the five people overhead were safely on the
ground. I clenched my jaw and tried to remain calm so I could focus on the task in hand. One
problem at a time, Daisy, I told myself. Don’t let him throw you off balance.
‘You will pay for your pathetic attack!’ Athair yelled.
I’d say this about my birth father – he was certainly a fan of melodrama.
I rolled onto my back to get a better view of the descending figures. None of them
appeared to be conscious, which was probably a blessing. I didn’t recognise them but
everything suggested these were the witches employed by the Royal Institute to banish Athair
from earthly existence. I certainly didn’t feel vindicated that their attempt had failed so easily,
I just prayed for their sakes that they were still alive and we weren’t focusing our efforts on
saving five corpses.
Something reached for me, gripping my ankle with a sudden, steely grip. I yelped,
briefly and lost concentration – and lost my hold on my air magic. I half-expected the poor
witches above me to drop like stones despite Hugo and the others’ magical efforts, but
instead each body continued in a slow, controlled descent.

As I glanced down, I realised that it was Gordon Mackenzie who had grabbed me.
‘Boonder has them,’ he gasped. ‘He’s drawn a rune that will bring them safely to the ground.’
Thank fuck. As an elf I could call upon magic faster than any sorcerer or witch, but
the runic magic that sorcerers employed, although slower, was often more extensive and
powerful. I flashed a grateful smile in Gordon’s direction and stopped my energy-sapping
flow of air, then scrambled to my feet to gaze at Athair.
He hadn’t wasted a moment while I’d been busy; he had taken that precious time to
create a scene for himself that wouldn’t have looked out of place in Dante’s Inferno.
He was standing on top of the Royal Institute between two massive chimney stacks.
For some reason he’d dressed for the occasion in a top hat and tails. As if his dress and his
precarious position on top of the roof weren’t enough, he’d also conjured up a backdrop of
twenty-foot flames that were licking upwards into the sky. From the way he casually tossed
fire around while ignoring the defensive water magic thrown at him from the elves below, it
was clear that his intention was to set the building ablaze. Perhaps he planned to destroy the
entire square.
Hugo joined my side. ‘Look at that outfit. Do you think he’s hoping to be the new
Fred Astaire?’
‘Well, he’s missing one Ginger Rogers, if that’s the case.’
As if on cue, Athair’s head tilted downwards. ‘Daughter!’ he bellowed. ‘Come join
me and watch this city burn!’
‘I think he wants you to audition for the part,’ Hugo said. ‘He wants to see your tap-
dance routine.’
I snorted. ‘I save that for you.’
‘True love is a wondrous thing.’
‘You should know,’ I replied softly as my eyes travelled across the rooftops. ‘We
could circle around and come at him from behind.’
‘He’ll see us coming from a mile off.’ Hugo pursed his lips. ‘We could add fuel to his
fire and throw our own fire magic at him. If that destroys the roof and it collapses, he’ll fall
with it.’
‘That will only compound our problems because he’ll end up inside the building. At
least at the moment we can see where he is and what he’s doing.’ I looked around the square.
There were still two dozen people or so within its perimeter. Right now they were all in
danger; our priority had to be ensuring they got away.

There was a shout from behind us. ‘We’ve got them!’ Boonder called. ‘The witches
are down!’
‘Are they alive?’ I asked, keeping my eyes trained on Athair.
‘Yes. Unconscious but breathing.’
As if he’d heard Boonder, Athair zapped out a bolt of lightning towards the witches. I
turned and cried out – and so did Boonder when the lightning struck him in the chest. He
stared at me with wide eyes and then collapsed without a sound.
Gordon was by his side in seconds. ‘There’s no pulse!’
Hugo was already running over to them, stripping off his jacket and preparing to start
CPR. I turned back to Athair as he raised his hands and released another bolt of electricity.
This time it hit one of the witches who was lying on the cold ground. ‘Stop!’ I roared.
Even from a distance I could see Athair’s answering grin. ‘Make me,’ he shouted.
I set my shoulders and gave his silhouetted body a hard look. Very well, then. ...