She didn’t answer. I wetted the edge of my cuff with saliva and rubbed some more. It was one thing to be a genuine orphan returning to the Sidhe fold, but the last thing I wanted to look like was a grubby urchin. Bugger it.

The Carnegie official peered at me. ‘It is time,’ he said with a sniff.

‘Do I have mud on my face?’ I asked.

He looked away just as the opening to ‘We Are the Champions’ started up. I closed my eyes. Speck. Of all the bloody songs to choose…

The official appeared even more unimpressed. I wasn’t surprised. While the Sidhe tended towards obvious and unpleasant side of arrogance, that wasn’t what I’d been aiming for. Then again, I supposed it didn’t really matter.

I walked past him and into the tunnel that led out to the grounds. Was it my imagination or was the crowd considerably more subdued now?

Light flashed, making me falter. ‘Bob!’ I complained. ‘This really isn’t the time.’

‘It’s the perfect time,’ he purred. ‘If they’re not going to let you compete, this is exactly when you should make that wish. You could wish for every Sidhe to have their head on backwards. I had a client once who did that at a concert. It went down a treat.’

‘Would you piss off?’

‘Of course,’ he continued blithely as I continued towards the light at the end of the tunnel – and the metaphorical darkness of pariah land, ‘if that doesn’t take your fancy, you could wish for their children to be struck down by madness. Or give them bubonic plague.’

‘Jeez, Bob. I had no idea you were so bloodthirsty.’

‘Come on, Uh Integrity. Wishes were made for revenge.’

‘I’m not here for revenge,’ I said. As soon as I said it, I realised it was true. I’d toyed with the idea of it before but really I just wanted answers – and I didn’t need to compete in the Games for those. I could find another way. ‘Thanks,’ I grinned as the tunnel gave way to the field. ‘I needed that.’

‘What did I do?’ Bob asked, his voice growing muffled as he wriggled into the folds of my scarf to hide.

I didn’t answer. Instead I held up my hand and waved enthusiastically as the grandstand blurred into a mass of colours and shapes. At least a few people cheered and some more clapped; thank goodness non-Sidhe were permitted in the audience.

I flipped my hair and tilted up my chin. As long as I didn’t trip, I could do this. I could do anything. Growth mind-set. Easy-peasy.

An official beckoned me towards the royal box. I stopped, eyeing Aifric and the twenty-three other Chieftains who were sitting there. Come on, I thought, do your worst.