‘No, Father,’ Byron replied. ‘You have betrayed Scotland.’

Aifric threw out his arms, sending out plumes of fire across the church. ‘Byron, no!’ he yelled, immediately blaming his son for his own actions. ‘Don’t hurt these people!’

As I dodged a spark of lightning from a seething Fairlie Sidhe, the walls caught fire. All around us people shouted, pushing past one another in a bid to get to the door. A few with water-based Gifts tried to douse the fire but it had caught too quickly. The whole structure was doomed. The people around us screamed, scattered, stampeding towards the door to escape the flames.

‘I killed my best friend and his entire Clan,’ Aifric said, speaking the truth for the first time. ‘Don’t think I’ll hesitate to kill my own son too if you continue to get in my way.’ Molly Kincaid’s mouth dropped open. She’d heard his words and, unaware he’d been overheard, this time he wasn’t masking his meaning.

I lunged forward, shoving her away to get her as far from Aifric as possible before he realised his error. ‘Get out of here!’ She turned and ran, only to be replaced by three Sidhe who were less afraid of the fire than the others. They came at me, their enraged and contorted faces obscured by the now billowing black smoke. ‘You’re not going to murder anyone else, bitch!’

Byron spun towards them and used Telekinesis to push them away before they could do any harm. As he turned his back, Aifric lunged for him. Most of the Sidhe wouldn’t believe a word that came out of my mouth but Byron was a different matter and that made him a more dangerous opponent for Aifric.

I didn’t waste any time ‒ I needed this Gift anyway. I squeezed my eyes shut and reached out, separating Aifric’s magic until I had what I needed. I snatched at the first strand and drew it away. Aifric gasped, feeling its absence. I ignored him and kept pulling. I needed it all. Aifric’s knees buckled and he collapsed.

It was difficult to tell through the thick, choking smoke but it seemed as if everyone else had managed to escape.

‘Integrity!’ Byron yelled. ‘We have to get out of here!’

That was stating the obvious. I tugged at Aifric’s body. ‘Help me.’

‘Just leave him.’

I wiped my streaming eyes with the back of my hand. ‘No. We’re not murderers.’ And, I added silently, he’s still your father. You’ll never recover if you do this.

I couldn’t see Byron’s expression but a moment later he was lifting his father and throwing him into a fireman’s lift over his shoulder. Then, with his free hand, he grabbed mine and began to run, ploughing through the church and out to safety.

The bright morning seemed incongruous compared to the hell we’d left behind. Most of the others seemed to have moved a safe distance away. A few were still trying to put out the fire. There were still some pained grimaces in my direction.