The Adept Book 2 The Lodge Of The Lynx Read Online Free PDF

gnarled finger and beckoned the newcomer nearer, indicating the chair at his right hand.
    “Sit down,” he rasped, in a voice that was thin and rough with age. “Sit down and let me hear your report.”
    Raeburn lowered himself into the chair, pausing only to settle the folds of his robe and lean the document case against the chair leg to one side.
    “You will not welcome what I have to say,” he warned. “Our worst fears concerning Geddes and the others stand confirmed. All of them are dead, and the treasures lost.”
    When the other’s stern expression did not change, Raeburn went on.
    “Barclay, you will recall, was in the van on the further side of the loch that night, waiting to receive Michael Scot’s gold, along with his book of spells. From all the evidence I’ve since been able to piece together, it now seems certain that the storm of lights he reported seeing can only have been a Hosting of the Sidhe. I must conclude that they were responsible for the loss of those concerned.”
    The old man gave a contemptuous snort. “It would appear, then, that Geddes fatally overestimated the virtue of the Fairy Flag of the MacLeods.”
    “Perhaps,’ said Raeburn, “but I think not. If the Flag failed to protect our men, I would guess that it was because of a change in the Flag’s status. Our agent in the Edinburgh constabulary tells me that the Fairy Flag— minus its frame —was handed back to the Chief of the MacLeods at Urquhart Castle by another member of the Edinburgh police force, an Inspector Noel McLeod. This means that the frame and glass containing the Flag must somehow have gotten damaged before Geddes and the others could make good their escape. And once the Flag was no longer encased, it became a danger rather than a protection.”
    “Explain.”
    There is a legend,” Raeburn went on, “that if anyone not of the Clan MacLeod should lay hands on the Flag, that individual will suffer instant immolation. The police are saying there may have been a bomb, but I suspect that, in fact, the legend is true. The glass-and frame somehow got broken—perhaps through the agency of this Inspector McLeod—but our man forgot the legend, in his panic. He tried to take it up again and, not being a MacLeod, paid the ultimate price. And once it was clear that to touch the Flag was certain death, the survivors had no choice but to take their chances among the Faerie Host—who tore them to shreds.”
    The Head-Master pondered this conjecture in silence for a long moment, then fixed the younger man with a sharp eye. “You’re sure that Geddes was among the victims?” he said.
    “Oh, yes,” said Raeburn. “I’m quite sure.”
    He slipped a graceful hand into his trouser pocket and drew out a handsome gold ring set with a blood-red carnelian, mate to one he wore on his own right hand. When he held it up for the other man to see, the sunlight flashed on the device incised in the face of the gemstone: the snarling head of a stylized lynx.
    “This was Geddes’ ring,” he informed the Master curtly. “It was still encircling a severed finger when the busy Inspector McLeod booked it into evidence, along with other shreds of human flesh and bits of clothing, pieces of the boat, and the Hepburn Sword. Our Edinburgh police agent was able to check the print taken from the severed finger against the set of Geddes’ prints on record in our own membership files. The match was conclusive. “
    The Head-Master reached out a bony, blue-veined hand. When Raeburn laid the ring in the open palm, the old man curled his fingers tightly over it and closed his eyes. For a long moment he sat motionless, as if lost in deep thought. Then he opened his eyes with a grim nod of confirmation.
    “Yes, this is Geddes’ ring,” he said. “With regard to the fingerprint, I trust that the police will not be able to repeat your comparison of prints and identify him?”
    “Impossible,” Raeburn said with cool certainty. “Geddes had no