‘Someone is here. Someone is playing with us and I want to know who.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Set guards around the perimeter. No one is to get in or out unless I know about it. And release the dogs. Maybe they’ll pick up this intruder’s scent. Whoever they are, they’re going to rue the day they picked a fight with me.’

I was tempted to open my mouth and tell him that there hadn’t been any fighting and he should look to his own actions before he pinned the blame on others but I was more concerned about the mention of dogs. Neither Invisibility nor Illusion would work against the nose of a hound. And if the Cruaich border was going to be teeming with guards on the lookout for the slightest thing, I couldn’t count on escape in that direction.

‘Do we have any Farsensers on the grounds?’ Aifric asked.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Just when I’d thought things couldn’t get any worse…

‘Most of them are off scouting for the Scrymgeour lass. But I think Stephen McGillivray is a Farsenser. He’s here for the stag party.’

Aifric nodded. ‘Find him. No one rests until every inch of this place has been checked.’ He pivoted and marched away.

Without waiting for the guards to pass me, I leapt up and darted left towards the main doors, away from Aifric.

‘This is bad, Uh Integrity,’ Bob hissed. ‘What are we going to do?’

I was rather touched that he said we. ‘I don’t know,’ I muttered tightly. I could already feel the invisibility draining away; I wouldn’t be able to use it for much longer before I started becoming less invisible and more opaque. I had to find somewhere to hide, somewhere out of reach of a Farsenser.

I ran outside and tried to think. I could always go to the old Games grounds. That cabin where we’d been made to stay would work as a hiding place if it weren’t for the Farsenser. I had to find a way of disguising my trail. Something that would fool the magic… ‘I’ve got it,’ I whispered. If this didn’t work, nothing would.

I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, glad that there was a cement path leading down to the grounds. ‘I used to have a hobby pouring cement,’ I told Bob. ‘But then it became too hard.’

‘You’re telling jokes?’ he howled in my ear. ‘We’re about to become dogfood and you’re telling jokes?’ As if on cue, I heard barking in the distance.

‘Chillax, Bob. I’ve got this.’ The wind whipped past, making my baseball cap fly off and my hair stream out behind me. Crapadoodle. I stopped, prepared to run back and get it, then I saw Byron’s stag mates appearing around the corner of the castle. I grimaced and left the cap where it was. I had to hustle.

The towering trees and dark shadows of the Cruaich grove soon came into sight. When Bob saw that was where I was heading I felt him relax against me. ‘Clever girl,’ he murmured.