The Falconer (Elizabeth May) (16 page)

‘Then why did you come?’

‘To see Catherine properly matched. Mother convinced me to stay through the Hogmanay festivities, but I intend to leave after the New Year.’

I reach forward to grasp his hand. ‘When you return to Oxford, write to me this time,’ I tell him. ‘Or I’ll worry—’

A shrill howl pierces the air. As one, Gavin and I turn to the window. The howl wasn’t normal, too high pitched to be an animal.

‘What was that?’ I whisper, moving to look through the window.

‘I’d rather not find out,’ Gavin replies. ‘We should—’

The second howl is closer, louder than the first. The taste of smoke and dust settles quickly in my mouth. Dryness enters my lungs and I heave in air. I bend and cough until my throat aches.

‘Aileana?’ Gavin grips my shoulder.

‘Get away from the window,’ I try to say, but the words come out strangled, barely understandable.

Desperately, I shove him. He stumbles back and hits the tea table.

Then something smashes through the window and glass shatters around me.

Chapter 17

A
massive creature with a gleaming black mane crashes into me. I grasp soft fur as my back hits the carpet and burns as I’m dragged along. Fallen shards of glass slice my flesh. I slam into Gavin’s wooden desk and I bite my tongue so I don’t scream.

A hound is on top of me, larger than any I’ve ever seen. If I were on my feet, it would have been as tall as my chest – standing on all four legs. Dark fur ripples and shimmers in the dim firelight, alternating hues of violet, green and red. Its eyes glow crimson.

A
cù sìth
. The seal has broken further and now the hounds have slipped through, just as Derrick said would happen.

I remain still as the hound carefully sniffs me, as if to make sure that I’m the very person it’s looking for. The person it’s been sent to kill.

‘Aileana!’ Gavin sounds so far away, as if he isn’t in the room any more.

I grip its fur, digging my fingers in. I know it’ll kill me as soon as it confirms who I am and I have to get it
off
. But the hound is too heavy, a good seventeen stone of solid weight on top of me. My corset, even loosely laced, is already restricting my breathing and the faery’s heavy body makes it worse. My heartbeat fills my ears, the rhythmic thump growing ever louder, louder.

The
cù sìth
draws in one more breath, then opens its eyes and snarls. Now it knows who I am.
What
I am. Its teeth are pointed, sharp as blades at the tips. I hitch a breath, unable to move even if I wanted.

The hound’s irises blaze a bright, burning red. Saliva drips onto my skin, those teeth scant inches from my flesh. My restraining hands digging into its neck are all that’s preventing it from tearing into me, and only barely at that. I channel all the strength I have, drawing on the gift Kiaran’s told me is my birthright as a Falconer. I close my fists in a harder grip. The heavy fur is tough, thick as armour.

Something slams into the hound and knocks it off me.

‘Gavin!’ I gasp.

The
cù sìth
shakes Gavin off its back, hard enough to throw him against the bookcase. It sways and volumes fall to the ground. Gavin slumps to the floor and tries to push himself up, but his shoes skid on glass from the broken window.

‘Go to the door,’ Gavin says. ‘We can trap it—’

‘And run?’ I laugh, a low, throaty sound. Familiar anger burns through my veins now. I think of Kiaran’s bloody nose, of the strength he says I possess. ‘Not yet.’

The faery rises, stalking towards Gavin with a rumbling growl. Now it knows Gavin is a Seer, and it wants him, too.

‘What are you doing, Aileana?’

‘You told me your story,’ I say. ‘This is mine.’

Muscles in the
cù sìth
’s haunches bunch. As it leaps at Gavin, I throw myself at it, wrapping my arms around its middle. We crash hard to the floor. The wooden legs of the settee groan as we roll into it, collapsing onto its side. I reach for my skirts and push aside layers of petticoats, tarlatan and silk to find my
sgian dubh
. My fingers grip the hilt as the hound’s snout comes down fast, teeth bared in a vicious snarl.

I strike, thrusting my blade into the
cù sìth
’s belly, where its armour-like fur is thinnest. I try to sink it to the hilt, but then I hear a hard metallic crack.

In shock, I pull my arm back. The
cù sìth
’s fur snapped my blade in half.

Before I can do anything, the hound lifts its snout and releases a shrill howl.

I stagger and almost fall as the thin, high wail resonates through my skull. I press my hands over my ears to muffle the noise but it doesn’t work. Glass shatters. Shards from the other windows and the whisky decanter clatter to the floor.

My legs buckle. I sink to the carpet and glass cuts into my knees. I open my mouth to scream, but no sound escapes. Just when I think I can take no more, the howling stops.

I gasp and pull my hands from my ears. My gloves are wet with blood that must have come from my ears. In that second’s distraction, the
cù sìth
leaps for me again. I throw myself to the ground.

I’m not quick enough. The hound’s razor-sharp claws slash my back, tearing fabric and skin.
Bloody hell!
The hound careens into the desk behind me and the wood cracks under the impact, splintering right down the middle.

‘Gavin,’ I call, pulling myself into a crouch behind the fallen bookcase. He’s hiding behind one of the overturned settees. ‘Are you hurt?’

‘My ears are bleeding. I have a nasty headache. I’m trapped in a room with a murderous faery and I blame you.’

‘That’s fair.’

I mentally curse myself for being so unprepared. I took Derrick’s protection for granted and left my weapons stashed in Lady Cassilis’s garden.

My fingers brush the
seilgflùr
necklace at my throat. This is all I have, the only object on me that can hurt a faery. As the
cù sìth
turns to leap again, I yank the necklace off.

‘Aileana,’ Gavin says. ‘Don’t—’

Before the
cù sìth
can move, I throw myself at it. We collide hard enough to squeeze all the air from my lungs.

Back on the ground, I try to get my arms around it, but the
cù sìth
bucks me off, strong paws hitting me square in the stomach. I double over and it rakes my shoulder with its claws. I bite my tongue, blood erupting in my mouth.

I go after it again, grappling with the creature until I manage to roll us so I’m on its back with the
seilgflùr
grasped tight in my fist. I wrap the plaited strand around the
cù sìth
’s neck and pull hard. The hound lets out a single gasp, then a tiny whimper.

The
cù sìth
bucks against me, trying to sink its teeth into my arm.
Seilgflùr
burns through the faery’s thick mane and the stench of scorched fur and flesh fills my nostrils. I pull away and tighten my hold on the improvised thistle garrotte until its body begins to weaken. Its muscles relax as it gasps for air again.

When I’m sure the faery is too weak to fight me, I unwind the thistle and prise open its mouth. Before I can change my mind, I shove the necklace inside.

The moment the
seilgflùr
leaves my fingertips, the faery disappears from my sight. Invisible teeth slash open my gloves and scrape along my skin as I pull my hand out. I judge where its snout is and grip it to hold its jaw closed. The faery barely struggles before it dies.

As I slide off the
cù sìth
’s back, its power fills me. Release. It’s like the light, joyous sensation of flying, of being lifted away from the world. Away from pain and guilt and death to a place where I’m convinced I’ll never hurt again. I’ll rise until the oxygen leaves me, until—

‘Aileana?’ a voice whispers.

If I had been standing, I would have fallen. The ache of anger settles in my chest, where my memories are, my guilt. They retreat inside the crevasse within me again and the lightweight flying joy is gone.

I open my eyes to see Gavin standing above me. He sighs with relief. ‘I thought you were dead.’

‘I’m a difficult lady to kill.’

He grasps my hand. ‘I pride myself on being a calm individual,’ he says, his breath visibly laboured, ‘and I rarely resort to hysterics. But, when the situation calls for it –
what the hell was that
?’

‘I killed a
cù sìth
. Surely you didn’t miss it?’

‘When you said you weren’t running, I assumed you had a plan. I did not realise that plan was a fight to the death.’

‘What else is there?’ I hiss in pain as Gavin pulls me to my feet.

‘You’re hurt,’ he says, drawing my forearm towards him to inspect my injuries. His fingers graze the spot where the
cù sìth
’s teeth scraped. These wounds will become my newest badges.

I scan the room and wince at the damage. ‘Sorry about your study. I’m shocked no one came running with all the noise we must have made.’

Nearly every piece of furniture is broken. Splintered wood lies all over the floor, mixed with broken glass from the windows. Almost the entire collection of nature volumes is now strewn about the room. The only thing unaffected is the fireplace; logs are still aflame and glowing. I consider it a victory that I didn’t end up getting burned.

‘You can’t hear much of what goes on in this part of the house,’ he says, ‘and I’m sure the music helped. I’ve never been so relieved that Mother insisted on hiring an orchestra.’ He looks at our feet, where the dead hound would be if I could see it. ‘At least they couldn’t hear
him
– I was certain the damn howl would burst my ears.’

As Gavin inspects my injury more closely, I say, ‘It’s not really a howl – that’s its power. Our human ears just interpret it as sound—
Ow!
’ He’d poked at my blasted cut.

‘Sorry. This looks deep.’

‘Well, don’t poke at it,’ I tell him. ‘It hurts like the devil. Do you have any stitchers?’

‘Mother doesn’t keep them.’

I sigh. ‘Of course not.’

‘Aren’t you the least bit concerned that some random faery attacked us, or that you’re bleeding all over my study?’

‘Not the least bit. And these are not the first scrapes I’ve endured, I assure you, nor are they the worst.’

He blinks. ‘You know, I don’t find that particularly comforting.’

‘It wasn’t meant to be.’ I pull out of his grasp and wobble to an upturned settee to perch there.

‘I told you my secret,’ he said, ‘but you kept yours from me. What else are you hiding?’

‘You were gone two years and you returned yesterday. Why should I tell you anything?’

Gavin stalks over and grasps my gloved arm. I bite my lip to keep from crying out, because the bites hurt so badly. He reaches into a trouser pocket and produces a kerchief.

He regards me silently as he wraps the injury on my arm and ties the cloth. ‘Isn’t it a burden?’ he asks. ‘It was for me.’

He and I both have to play parts, to pretend to be the people we once were. Both of us might be broken in some way, but the difference is that I’m a killer. I have darkness to yield to that he doesn’t possess.

‘I can’t think about it,’ I say. ‘If I—’

Gavin turns his head sharply towards the window. ‘Oh,’ he says. ‘You.’

The faint taste of gingerbread and sweetness tickles my tongue. ‘Derrick,’ I say.

‘I can’t understand a damned thing you’re saying,’ Gavin says to thin air. He looks at me. ‘He’s your pixie. You speak to him.’

‘Derrick, show yourself. I can’t see you.’

Derrick appears at the same time as Gavin says, ‘
What?
’

The pixie flies to me. ‘I was waiting in the garden and I thought I heard
cù sìth
, so I flew up and checked, and—’

He starts blathering rapidly in his own language, as if he’s entirely forgotten he should be speaking in English. His wings whir, each word punctuated by heavy buzzing.

‘Repeat that last part in English,’ I say.

‘There’s an army of them,’ he bursts out. ‘And they’re almost here.’

Chapter 18

T
he pain from my injuries dissipates instantly. All it takes is the promise of battle and a warm glow spreads through my body. Back to the hunt, back to the chase.

‘How many?’ I ask.

‘Two dozen,’ Derrick says. ‘Maybe three.’

I shut my eyes briefly. The weapons I brought with me won’t be enough to kill that many. ‘Find Kiaran and tell him I need help. Try not to insult him while you’re asking.’

Derrick doesn’t argue, for once. ‘What about you?’

I stride to the window, an easy escape route now the painted glass is shattered. Thank heavens Gavin’s study is at ground level. ‘I have weapons nearby, and more in my ornithopter.’ And that’s where I keep my spare
seilgflùr
. Kiaran might take it away during my training sometimes, but I’ve never lost it in a fight before.

Derrick flutters to my shoulder. ‘They’re on Princes Street and moving in this direction. Can you make it to Charlotte Square?’

‘I certainly hope so, since I don’t have any
seilgflùr
on me,’ I murmur as I hoist myself onto the window ledge and prepare to jump into the garden.

‘You don’t have any—’

‘Don’t worry about me.’ I let my cheek rest against his wings for a moment. ‘Go.’

‘Be careful, won’t you?’ Derrick’s light glows brighter as he takes off.

I rip my already-torn petticoats and dress, until they stop just above my knees where the bottom of my pantalettes show, so the fabric won’t hinder my movements. I toss the extra material to the floor and straddle the windowsill. My slipper brushes against some of the tall bushes below.

Rain falls steadily outside and dampens my leg. I shiver at the cold night air and the breeze on my bare arms. I’m about to drop down into the space between the bushes and the wall when a hand closes around my wrist.

It’s Gavin, and he looks furious. ‘You intend to go out there?’ he asks. ‘And you can’t even see them, can you?’