Page 168 of Moonlit Nights & Northern Lights
Maxwell stepped forward, his voice carefully neutral. “Alex, I know this is a lot to ask. I know you’re probably desperate to find Isla. But can you take Dev back and check him over? I give you my word, if we find Isla, we won’t harm her.”
Alex looked conflicted, grey beard twitching as he worked his jaw. “I’m sorry, but—”
“If you go back with Dev,” I interrupted, “you can sound the alarm to Edina, and bring out everyone. A proper search party.”
Alex released a deep sigh that seemed to deflate his entire frame. “Can you walk, lad? Or shift even? It’d be quicker to run over the hills rather than take the buggy. Also, I don’t want to bump into any humans like this.”
Dev tested his balance, swaying slightly before steadying himself against the buggy’s frame. “Think I can manage.”
Five minutes later, after hiding the buggy full of bodies deep in a thicket of bushes, we parted ways—Alex supporting Dev as they headed toward the treeline, whilst Maxwell and I turned back toward the castle ruins.
I couldn’t help but feel slightly sick at sending Dev off with Alex, the father of the woman who’d helped kidnap him, stuck a chip in his brain, and most recently, almost ripped him to shreds.
I’d have to buy him a drink when we got home. If he wanted to be friends again.
We made good pace, considering my battered condition. Maxwell glanced at me every few minutes, raising his eyebrow every time I fibbed that I was fine. The oversized boots I’d nicked from one of Callum’s menkept slipping, making me stumble over rocks and bracken. Finally, I had enough, kicking them off to walk barefoot.
When the castle ruins came into view, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. A horrible sensation came over me—that this was a colossal waste of time, when we could have been tracking down Isla. That Maxwell knew this was a stupid idea, and was being too nice to me.
Every step towards the ruins felt like walking through sludge. My legs grew heavier with each stride, as though invisible weights had attached themselves to my ankles. Maxwell eyed me, the amount of concern radiating from him making everything worse.
I almost felt irrationally angry at him for a second—for humouring me, for allowing us to exhaust ourselves walking here when we could be doing something useful. Something that actually mattered.
Two hundred metres from the ruins.
One hundred.
Fifty.
A faint hum tickled my ears. I grabbed Maxwell’s arm. “Stop.”
“What?”
The sound grew louder. Mechanical. Purposeful.
“A vehicle is coming.”
Maxwell frowned, tilting his head. “I don’t hear—”
An engine roared in the distance, getting closer and closer. Maxwell’s eyes widened as the sound reached him too.
Then I saw it—one massive bike tearing across the moorland, two riders hunched together, wearing chunky helmets. The driver handled the rocky ground like he’d been born on a motorbike, while his passenger looked oddly elegant even whilst gripping on for dear life.
“No!” Maxwell exclaimed. “It can’t be!”
But it was.
I could feel it—feel my brother through our bond. My legs began to shake, and I stumbled as I started running towards them.
The vehicle slid to a rapid stop, sending up a spray of dirt and bracken.
Kit threw his helmet off, hair sticking up at odd angles.
“Rory!” He ran towards me and we crashed into each other in an extremely rare hug. “You’re alright!” he repeated, voice muffled against my shoulder. “I was so bloody scared. I should have come with you from the start. I—”
“Stop, it’s fine. It was all fine. Until it wasn’t. But Maxwell saved me. I mean,Isaved Maxwell, to be fair.”
“Oi!” Maxwell called from behind.
