There were two other doors. The first one led into a well-appointed bathroom with mod cons which looked out of place in such an old castle. The second door opened into a small study. Yahtzee. There was a large desk, covered with letters and papers. I was bound to find something here.

Sitting down on the cracked leather chair, I looked through the first bundle. There were a lot of petitions from different Clans: the Kincaids wanted to search for the Foinse, which had flown off after I’d released it from the cavern deep in the Scottish mountains; the Jardines were in the middle of a land dispute with the Carnegies and demanded that the borders be re-drawn, while the Chieftain of the Innes Clan was hoping for a loan from the Cruaich coffers so he could go hunting for the mythical white stag. I snorted.

One unsigned letter caught my attention. I had no way of knowing who it was from but my own name stood out like a beacon. Someone was demanding that I be taken care of ‒ apparently I was a danger to society. It was suggested that I’d hidden my Gift because, like the last one of my father’s, it was soul punching. That is, the ability to draw inside an opponent and yank out their life essence. Apparently it was how he’d killed so many so quickly. The suggestion in the letter was that any moment now I might slaughter every one of the Sidhe in vengeance for what had been done to my Clan.

Now that was interesting. Why would I want vengeance when it was supposedly my father who’d done the killing that had left me alone in the world? It was another piece of evidence that he was innocent and that, somehow, Aifric Moncrieffe was involved in setting up my father and committing genocide.

The knot of anger in my chest expanded. It was an unfamiliar sensation; Taylor had taught me to take each day as it came and to appreciate what I had without worrying about the past or the future. I had elected to avoid the Sidhe wherever possible – unless it was to steal from them, of course. Now, whether my entire Clan were dead or not, it felt like I’d let them down. I was still floundering around in the dark for the truth.

Abandoning the desk, I looked for a safe where Aifric might hide more sensitive materials. I couldn’t find it. Unless Aifric was using magic to conceal it, there was no safe here.

Irritated, I stood up. Considering all the effort it had taken to get here, I had very little to show for it. I tilted my head backwards and stretched my neck – and that action that made me spot the one thing that looked out of place.

The study was lit by a small chandelier, much like the other rooms I’d seen in the Cruaich. This one was as finely made as the others, with little crystal shards decorating the frame in a spiral pattern, but something darker was teetering above the glass. I pulled over the chair and, standing on it, I grabbed the edge of what felt like cold metal and brought it down so I could examine it more closely.