He nodded. ‘This will be interesting then.’ He stretched out his bony arms and cracked his fingers one by one. I guessed I was supposed to be intimidated and I was. I was probably also supposed to ask why ‘this’ would be interesting but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

If he was disappointed by my silence, it didn’t show. He looked at me and I looked at him and absolutely nothing happened. It was like a bizarre staring contest. I was tempted to remain quiet and see if I could break him. Be good, Tegs, I told myself. This wasn’t about my ego.

I licked my chapped lips. ‘You speak English very well.’

The demon snorted. ‘Yes. Our kind spent considerable resources learning Gaelic so we could communicate with your people.’ He didn’t crack a smile. ‘Imagine our unbridled joy when we discovered that more spoke English than Gaelic.’

My eyebrows raised. Sarcasm? From a demon? ‘Are you in charge here?’ I asked.

‘No.’

‘Then,’ I said, without irony, ‘take me to your leader.’

‘No.’

I scratched my head. Okay, then.

The demon gave a guttural noise and two more appeared and walked past him. They looked more nervous than him as they hauled me up by my armpits until I was face to face with their apparent boss, even if he wasn’t the boss.

‘We know of your prophecy,’ the demon said.

‘Prophecies are tricky things,’ I returned. ‘They often don’t come true.’

He inclined his head and a length of straggly hair fell from his forehead. He tucked it behind his ear with one gnarled hand. ‘You are correct. It is also true that to blame the individual for the words of a prophecy is to blame the tide for rising.’

I was starting to like this guy. ‘So,’ I said softly, ‘there is no need for us to be at odds with each other.’

He smiled for the first time. ‘There is plenty of need for that. Furthermore, the Fomori are not in the habit of taking chances, even if we are less bloodthirsty than our Sidhe neighbours.’

Less bloodthirsty? I’d seen compelling evidence to the contrary so that was an interesting statement. ‘The prophecy is vague,’ I pointed out. ‘It could refer to anything.’

‘Vague?’ he asked.

‘It means—’

‘I know what the word means. There is nothing vague about the prophecy however.’

I was prepared to argue the point, even though the demons on either side of me had tightened their grip painfully. ‘One Adair will save Scotland.’ I shrugged. ‘Or Alba, anyway. That could mean anything. Technically, the Lowlands are part of Scotland.’ I leaned forward as much as I could. ‘We are all Alba.’

‘That is not what the prophecy says.’ His lip curled. ‘One Adair will destroy Alba.’

I shook my head vehemently. ‘No! That’s not the wording.’

‘Yes, it is.’ He regarded me calmly. ‘Your own king confirmed it.’

I almost spat. Aifric. ‘He is no king.’

‘Whatever.’ The demon flicked his hand dismissively. ‘We are not monsters, regardless of what your kind may believe. But we will not take chances either.’ For a brief moment, I saw sympathy flicker in his eyes. Then he gestured to the other two. ‘Bring her.’ He turned on his heel and left.