They were, to a demon, ugly bastards. Every one that I could see was naked, the male Fomori with grotesque large penises which hung down between their legs, slapping against their balls as they ran. The females proudly displayed wrinkled breasts with puckered nipples which seemed to catch the weak light. Most were completely hairless, their gaunt, sinewy bodies shaped for the most arduous of physical activities, although I spotted a few with hair sprouting in patches from their skulls and chests. Every so often, a head turned and I caught a glimpse of searing red eyes and sharp yellow teeth. I began to shiver and it wasn’t just because of the cold water. If one of them saw me, I’d be ripped to shreds before I could tell them my best demon joke.

By now, the skies were heavy with the flying Fomori. This wasn’t a flock of birds and there didn’t appear to be any order to the way they moved. The winged, wheeling shapes collided frequently, sending each other spinning off in different directions. There was a lot of jostling and snapping of teeth; seemingly the demons didn’t even like each other.

One high-pitched shriek sounded louder than the others and suddenly heavy wings began to beat in my direction. I’d been spotted. I prepared to do whatever I could to defend myself. In the Cruaich grove, my parents had given me my true name of Layoch, Gaelic for warrior. I hated violence but I wasn’t going to lie down and let the demons take me. I’d go down at least attempting to fulfil that name.

But it wasn’t me that the winged demon had seen. It swooped upwards and away from the Clyde’s oily surface at the last second then flung itself towards the demons that were still crossing the bridge. Most of them scattered but one pulled itself up and gestured arrogantly. Almost forgetting the danger, I watched as the pair launched into a vicious, bloody brawl.

The bridge demon landed one or two swift punches, making its opponent hiss and pull back. He wasn’t going to give up that easily though. He sank sharp claws into the other demon’s back and flapped as he rose into the air. There was a screech and they pulled away from each other. I expected the non-winged one to crash down into the river below with a tremendous splash but it hung there, suspended in the air.

I blinked. That meant the Fomori demon was Gifted, just like the Sidhe. I should have realised: how else would they have managed to over-run half of the country if they didn’t have the same powers as the Sidhe? This one could obviously levitate. Damn, that would be a handy Gift to have and for a moment, I wished I could do it too ‒ it might have made escaping a bit easier.

A breath later I felt a wave of dizziness and my stomach was assailed with nausea. Shite. The cold was getting to me more than I’d realised.