horribly dead.’
‘I’m not thinking of any place else. I’m sure he is deliciously, horribly and entertainingly dead, but I’d be happier if I’d seen his body.’
‘Ghoul.’
‘Takes one to know one. Now get this, Rory. I’m going to the watergate at Loch Sgillinn and I won’t be more than a few hours. You’d better be here when I get back,
okay?’
‘Yeah?’ I winked. ‘What if he’s not?’
Seth winked back. ‘There’ll be a full-scale war and many casualties.’ He slipped a bridle onto the roan’s head and buckled the throatlash, then gripped its withers and
hauled himself onto its bare back. ‘I might be bringing somebody back.
Try
and be civilised, will you?’ He leaned down to rumple Rory’s hair, like he was five or
something.
I half-closed one eye. That was the paternal expression I liked least on Seth, the one that made me most uncomfortable. Perhaps it was sheer jealousy, because there had never been anyone to look
at me like that; or maybe it was just that it didn’t look natural, like it was too recently learned to fit his hard face.
Beneath the weight of the sheathed sword on his back Seth stretched his shoulders as a stablehand led out a garron. Seth took its lead rein, then spoke to his horse and rode out of the dun with
the pony behind him.
I gave Rory a sidelong glance, and a wicked smirk.
‘And now,’ I said, ‘let’s misbehave.’
FINN
When I broke the surface, and my lungs filled with the right air for the first time in thirteen years, it tasted different instantly. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to hoot. All I
could do was stagger forward, undignified, into shallow water. With the weight of my backpack dragging me sideways, I only narrowly saved myself from floundering back for a proper soaking.
Behind me, there was a guttural mortified shriek as Faramach breached the water’s skin and vanished into the dull dazzle of sunlight. I pulled a limp strand of weed from my hair and
flicked it back into the loch. Watergates: always such a dignified way to travel. And of course, it was at exactly that moment I realised I wasn’t alone.
Seth’s impulsive smile disappeared as fast as mine. He rode forward from the bank till the blue roan was up to its hocks in the water, then left the reins loose on its neck and folded his
arms. The breeze that feathered the gull-wing loch lifted the black hair on his neck and stirred the roan’s mane; smelling the distant sea, it snuffed and blew and pawed the water. Beyond
them, on the bank, a thickset garron browsed the heather.
I hooked my thumbs into my backpack straps, wriggling my shoulders.
‘Glad that still works,’ I said, to the roan rather than to Seth. ‘Be embarrassing if they had to drag the loch for me.’
Seth didn’t smile. ‘You’ve been a while.’
‘Longer than I meant to, big cousin.’ I looked at the sky. ‘Where’s Faramach gone?’
‘That bird always hated watergates. He’ll be back when his dignity is, more’s the pity.’ He stared at me without a hint of a welcoming smile.
I pushed a wisp of hair out of my eyes. ‘Seth. What did I do this time?’
‘Nothing.’ He bit his lip. ‘Nothing, Finn. I’m only selfish. It’s kind of hard to change.’
‘Don’t, then.’ I let myself smile at him again as he rode a circle round me.
He didn’t look any different. I’d seen him now and again over the years, the last time a year ago, and he never looked any different. He still wore his hair long, and strands of it
still fell forward into his clear grey eyes. His face was just as sharp and beautiful as it always had been. He looked as he had when I’d left him on the beach more than a decade ago with a
toddler on his shoulders. Thirteen years: that was nothing for him. Nothing.
For me it was forever, that was all.
I found I couldn’t speak; not that there was nothing I wanted to say. There was so much of it, it was a logjam in my head. A year it was since I’d said goodbye to him
‘I’m not thinking of any place else. I’m sure he is deliciously, horribly and entertainingly dead, but I’d be happier if I’d seen his body.’
‘Ghoul.’
‘Takes one to know one. Now get this, Rory. I’m going to the watergate at Loch Sgillinn and I won’t be more than a few hours. You’d better be here when I get back,
okay?’
‘Yeah?’ I winked. ‘What if he’s not?’
Seth winked back. ‘There’ll be a full-scale war and many casualties.’ He slipped a bridle onto the roan’s head and buckled the throatlash, then gripped its withers and
hauled himself onto its bare back. ‘I might be bringing somebody back.
Try
and be civilised, will you?’ He leaned down to rumple Rory’s hair, like he was five or
something.
I half-closed one eye. That was the paternal expression I liked least on Seth, the one that made me most uncomfortable. Perhaps it was sheer jealousy, because there had never been anyone to look
at me like that; or maybe it was just that it didn’t look natural, like it was too recently learned to fit his hard face.
Beneath the weight of the sheathed sword on his back Seth stretched his shoulders as a stablehand led out a garron. Seth took its lead rein, then spoke to his horse and rode out of the dun with
the pony behind him.
I gave Rory a sidelong glance, and a wicked smirk.
‘And now,’ I said, ‘let’s misbehave.’
FINN
When I broke the surface, and my lungs filled with the right air for the first time in thirteen years, it tasted different instantly. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to hoot. All I
could do was stagger forward, undignified, into shallow water. With the weight of my backpack dragging me sideways, I only narrowly saved myself from floundering back for a proper soaking.
Behind me, there was a guttural mortified shriek as Faramach breached the water’s skin and vanished into the dull dazzle of sunlight. I pulled a limp strand of weed from my hair and
flicked it back into the loch. Watergates: always such a dignified way to travel. And of course, it was at exactly that moment I realised I wasn’t alone.
Seth’s impulsive smile disappeared as fast as mine. He rode forward from the bank till the blue roan was up to its hocks in the water, then left the reins loose on its neck and folded his
arms. The breeze that feathered the gull-wing loch lifted the black hair on his neck and stirred the roan’s mane; smelling the distant sea, it snuffed and blew and pawed the water. Beyond
them, on the bank, a thickset garron browsed the heather.
I hooked my thumbs into my backpack straps, wriggling my shoulders.
‘Glad that still works,’ I said, to the roan rather than to Seth. ‘Be embarrassing if they had to drag the loch for me.’
Seth didn’t smile. ‘You’ve been a while.’
‘Longer than I meant to, big cousin.’ I looked at the sky. ‘Where’s Faramach gone?’
‘That bird always hated watergates. He’ll be back when his dignity is, more’s the pity.’ He stared at me without a hint of a welcoming smile.
I pushed a wisp of hair out of my eyes. ‘Seth. What did I do this time?’
‘Nothing.’ He bit his lip. ‘Nothing, Finn. I’m only selfish. It’s kind of hard to change.’
‘Don’t, then.’ I let myself smile at him again as he rode a circle round me.
He didn’t look any different. I’d seen him now and again over the years, the last time a year ago, and he never looked any different. He still wore his hair long, and strands of it
still fell forward into his clear grey eyes. His face was just as sharp and beautiful as it always had been. He looked as he had when I’d left him on the beach more than a decade ago with a
toddler on his shoulders. Thirteen years: that was nothing for him. Nothing.
For me it was forever, that was all.
I found I couldn’t speak; not that there was nothing I wanted to say. There was so much of it, it was a logjam in my head. A year it was since I’d said goodbye to him
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