Speck pursed his lips. ‘Well, it would make sense. We’re away from the power source of the Clan Lands. If you returned, it’d probably come back.’

I grimaced. ‘I don’t think it works like that. No, it feels like it’s gone for good.’

‘Just like the teleportation?’

I nodded. After Bob, the most annoying genie in the world, had teleported me to the Bull’s after I made a wish, I was able to teleport as well. As handy a Gift as it was, it hadn’t lasted. I used it all of five times before I simply ran out of magic juice. It was a bugger; mountain rescue would be a piece of piss if I could teleport up and down the Cairngorms. So would casual thievery. Nope, I really wasn’t very special at all.

I’d never heard of any other Sidhe losing their Gifts. Whatever you received when you were thirteen years old was supposed to stay with you for life. I told myself it was because I was an adult when I finally got my true name and that it wasn’t because I was merely defective. Most of the time I believed it.

Lexie’s jaw jutted out. ‘Shitty Sidhe shite.’ Then she threw me a guilty look. ‘Sorry.’

‘Hey,’ I said lightly, ‘I’m with you.’

‘You don’t need magic anyway,’ Speck said loyally. I pretended I couldn’t see the disappointment in his face.

‘Well, magic presents aside, what are you going to do about the spider?’ Taylor asked. ‘If we can’t kidnap it and the Carnegies are going to use it against the other Clans, are you going to leave them to it or warn them in advance?’

I smiled. ‘I’m looking for a way to twist the Moncrieffes round my little finger. Not only did I just save two of their Clan but I have knowledge which might help them avert a bloodbath.’ I winked. ‘You know what they say about friends and enemies.’

Brochan nodded wisely. ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’

My smile broadened. ‘Nah. I’m talking about what you call a fake friend.’ I received four identical eye rolls. I made an imaginary drum roll. ‘A faux, of course.’

*

Bob lay belly down on my dresser, his tiny chin in his even tinier hands. ‘You can’t polish a turd, Uh Integrity,’ he told me solemnly.

I put down the mascara wand and glared at him. ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence.’

‘The truth hurts.’ He tapped his cheek thoughtfully. ‘There is a way you could look more desirable, you know.’

I kept my mouth firmly shut. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

Bob pouted. ‘Aren’t you going to ask me about it?’

‘Nope.’ I turned back to the mirror, checking my hair. It was a pain in the arse to leave it down because it was so fine. One gust of wind and it ended up plastered across my face. It would suit my purposes for now though. I’d do whatever was necessary to keep Byron Moncrieffe onside.