‘Nothing,’ he said. He licked his lips. ‘Do you like weddings?’

‘I like emotional weddings. The kind where even the cake is in tiers.’

‘Ha,’ he murmured. He put his arm round my waist and drew me close. I told myself sternly not to snuggle but it was a close-run thing.

Candy, looking rather nervous, took his spot. Then, while Bob produced a baby grand piano and began to tinkle out the wedding march, Tipsania made her grand entrance. The trolls acted suitably impressed, oohing and aahing at her dress. I decided now probably wasn’t the time to tell her that she had a trail of seaweed knotted into some of the ribbons at the back.

‘Dearly beloved,’ Sorley shouted, causing half of the makeshift congregation to wince, ‘we are gathered here today to witness the binding together in matrimony of this man and this woman.’ From his ragged pocket, he produced a length of fabric. He wound it first around Tipsania’s wrist then around Candy’s, joining them together. As he continued, I stared at it.

‘Join together,’ I whispered. ‘Of course.’ I could have slapped myself for not thinking of it earlier. My ancestors at the Cruaich grove had given me the answer to all our problems and I’d been too stupid to see it.

Byron gave me a strange look. I grinned and leaned my head on his shoulder. The last few days had been amongst the worst in my life. Morna’s face flashed into my mind; maybe it was just as well that we were all being kept busy, otherwise I’d have had to lock myself away in a dark room to deal with her loss. Aifric had so much to answer for. He would come after us again and next time he wouldn’t waste time on fake trials, he’d move straight to the main event. I wasn’t going to kill him though; I was better than that.

Candy and Tipsania leaned towards each other as they said their vows. I spotted Taylor wiping away a surreptitious tear, together with dozens of the supposedly hardened trolls who were watching. Tipsania looked radiant, all tantrums forgotten. And all of a sudden, there was a glimmer of real hope.

Chapter Sixteen

It wasn’t difficult to drag Fergus and May into a corner during the post-ceremony celebrations. Fergus told me what he’d already gleaned about the Lowlands then we huddled together while May patiently answered the rest of my questions, with Fergus standing in as interpreter. A couple of times she seemed to falter and a shadow crossed her red eyes. On each occasion she stared hard at me and nodded to herself before telling me what I needed to know. When I had all the information, I asked her to open her mouth. I congratulated myself on not recoiling at the sight of the stub of her tongue that remained. Then, as Fergus gripped her hands tightly, I used Aifric’s Gift.

It was the oddest sensation for both of us. May had obviously become accustomed to her condition because she looked as if she’d been given a humungous gobstopper. To suddenly have this thick fleshy thing shoved back into her mouth couldn’t have been pleasant. She kept sticking it out and waggling it around. As for me, the act of growing new flesh was very different to healing Taylor’s wounds. There had always been a strange connection between May and me, but now it felt more physical as if, somehow, we were tied together in ways I didn’t understand. It went some way to explaining why the Gift of Healing wasn’t used more often. Although I was filled with spreading warmth at the obvious success, I instinctively knew that using this Gift too regularly would invite insanity. The new connections that were formed each time between healer and healed would spread the magic user too thinly, both physically and emotionally. It was a sobering revelation.