Chapter 1

Chapter

One

O ne 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.’