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Authors: Elizabeth May

The Vanishing Throne (43 page)

BOOK: The Vanishing Throne
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I try to think of the places I'll go. I have no home. I have to leave everyone I care about to keep them safe again. Isn't that the life of a Falconer, anyway? It doesn't matter how well I fight or how strong I am; my mere existence will always put the people I love at risk.

After a moment, Daniel clears his throat and says, “She'll want you to stay, you know.”

I stare at Catherine in her long dress, laughing as she dances with Gavin. Despite everything she's been through, she's still the same. Her heart hasn't hardened and she isn't broken, and she's never once given up faith in me. Not ever. We may not be linked by a mother or a father, but Catherine is my sister and always has been. We are stronger than blood.

“You and I both know the truth, don't we, Mr. Reid?” I say. “We must do everything we can to survive and sacrifice for those we love. Sometimes there's little place for sentiment at all.”

Daniel takes a sip of his drink and I notice it's not mulled wine; it's whisky. Fine choice. “I never thought I'd see the day when an Edinburgh debutante said that.” He takes a long, hard look at me. “I'd have bet on pulling gold out of my arse first.”

I smile. “What do you think they teach us in etiquette lessons?”

“How to ensnare a husband, I assume,” he drawls in that rough accent of his.

“Wrong,” I say. “In that world, we survived by marrying. In this one, we learn to adapt. An Edinburgh debutante is taught self-preservation from childhood. It's all we know.”

It's the first time I've ever seen Daniel look quite so taken aback. “Then we have something in common, don't we?”

I recall what he said about his father, his first death. “Aye. I just hope you realize how very lucky you are. She's an extraordinary woman who believes you worthy.”

Daniel is staring at his wife. “She is,” he says. “And, believe me, I know.”

As if she hears him, Catherine glances at Daniel, and I see how much she loves him. How her eyes light up and her lips curve into a smile at the sight of him.

I look down at my wine and take a sip. “I never got the chance to thank you.”

He frowns. “For what?”

“For saving her life,” I say. “I was the reason she was in that carriage. If I hadn't—”

“They come swift as the night,” he interrupts. “They descend like shadows. You could have locked her in a vault, and they still would have found her. Do you know the truest burden of having the Sight?” He looks at Catherine, watches her dance. “It's knowing how fast they kill. That if you save
one person, you've failed to save one hundred more. It's knowing that I happened to be on that road when her carriage was being attacked, instead of some other road, with another carriage. One where those other people didn't survive. It's living with that every night. You know a thing or two about that, don't you?”

“Aye,” I whisper. “I do. I—”

A hush comes over the crowd. The entire city goes completely silent around us. The fiddlers have stopped playing, and everyone has stopped dancing. I hear a few hushed whispers, and look to the source of their attention.

My breath catches. It's Kiaran and Aithinne, looking every bit like fae royalty. Aithinne wears a delicate lilac dress that falls like a waterfall over her long legs. No petticoats, no corset. Just a beautiful, form-hugging dress that glitters as though it's been dotted with stars. Her long dark hair is loose and gleaming, down to her waist.

And Kiaran . . . I've seen him dressed like a gentleman before, but never like this. Not in evening wear, with dark trousers and waistcoat and a perfectly tied cravat. Then his eyes meet mine. I've never seen such blatant
wanting
before. Like he'll consume me. I could drown in that gaze.

Now he's walking through the silent crowd toward me, and suddenly he's there, and my hand is in his. His lips are at my ear. “Dance with me.”

And then we're dancing, and nothing else matters. His hand is pressed to my lower back, our bodies close as we spin. It's as if we're alone. No one else matters. No music, or
whispering, nothing. It's Kiaran and me, and this is our first dance. And it's as graceful and smooth as when we go into battle together. We fit together, my body against his, his cheek pressed to mine as we spin.

“You never told me you could dance,” I say.

I feel his soft smile. “Isn't this what we did every night?” He whispers against my skin. “We always fought like this. Like we were waltzing.”

That's when I open my eyes and I see the sea of people around us, staring. I don't know how long we've been dancing without music. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. It doesn't matter.

“Everyone's staring,” I whisper.

“Of course they are.”

Kiaran's eyes meet mine. Now that I have the Sight, I see just how vivid they are. I see the years there. The pain, the exaltation, even the flashes of Kadamach. But it doesn't matter, because he looks at me and he sees me, and he's Kiaran and I'm Kam.

“They're wondering why I came tonight,” he says. “Why I chose you.” His lips brush my cheek. “Why I'm kissing you.”

“Why
did
you choose me?” It's all I can do to keep my wits about me when he's kissing me like this. Because when Kiaran kisses, he does it with the whole of himself.

He whirls me around with so much grace it's as if he isn't even trying. “Because you challenge me,” he tells me. And then we're not dancing anymore. We're standing pressed
together, our hands entwined. “I chose you because you're my equal.”

Then we're kissing right there in front of everyone. And nothing else seems to matter. Certainly not etiquette, or what anyone else thinks. It's only his lips on mine, the pressure gentle. It's only us. And I can't stop—

Which is when Derrick arrives out of thin air and careens into my shoulder in a mess of wings and limbs. “
Hellooooo
! Don't mind me, I'm just interrupting your brazen cuddle to steal the lady for a few minutes.”

Oh, damnation, not now
.
I'm really regretting not giving Derrick that extra five minutes. “Derrick,” I say through clenched teeth. I step back from Kiaran and try to control the pixie's wriggling body in my hair. “Not—”

“My god.” Derrick collapses on my shoulder. “I am full of pie. I can barely even move my wings. I—” He squints over at Kiaran and smiles in delight. “Oh, hulloooooo, villainous wastrel!”

Kiaran is clearly not impressed. “You've a bit of pastry on your jacket.”

Derrick swipes at the morsel, snatches it, and eats it. “Was just saving a wee snack for later.” He giggles.

For god's sake
.

I look pleadingly at Kiaran. “Just . . . save that thought. Don't go anywhere.”
I'd like to resume the kissing
. “I'll be right back—”


Kiaraaaaaaaaaan
.” Derrick giggles. “Or would you prefer I keep
villainous wastrel
? I never asked.”

Kiaran arches an eyebrow. “I suppose that depends. Would you prefer
pain in my arse
?”

Derrick bursts into laughter. “Arse! Aileana. He said
arse
.”


Hell
,” I mutter. “Will you excuse me for a moment?”

I don't wait for Kiaran's response. I take Derrick with me to the lift and don't say anything until I reach the fourth floor. “Let me just say, if
someone
gave you honey, I'll—”

“No, no, no,” Derrick says, gliding off my shoulder. He now looks suspiciously lucid. “You said to save you after twenty-five minutes. So I did.”

“I said to save me if I was around Daniel and in obvious distress.”
Not when I'm kissing someone in obvious delight
.

“Firstly,
I
was the one in distress watching you kiss Kiaran because
ughhhh
.” Derrick wags a finger at me. “And secondly, you never said anything about distress, you said—”

“Forget what I said.” I narrow my eyes. “Are you telling me that down there was all an act?”

He grins. “I would have been
perfect
in the theater, wouldn't you say?”

“Good heavens,” I murmur. At least I don't have to deal with a drunk pixie. “Let's just check the wards, all right?”

I follow Derrick onto the balcony and press the lever that sends us up. As we rise above the city, music echoes all the way to the top of the structure. A cloudless moon shines down on the festivities, adding its light to the floating lanterns. It all looks like something out of a dream.

The balcony takes us higher and higher, past the lanterns and closer to the moonlight. All the way at the top are shelves
carved into the rock beside the balcony. There are no doors up here, no people, nothing but black crystals placed deliberately along the shelves, one right after the other. They vary in size—some are as small as my palm, and others the length of my arm.

I freeze when I see them, immediately thinking of Kiaran's words.
They say a crystal from the palace is still here, hidden somewhere
.

A crystal. Just one. I ask warily, “Crystals?”

“Of course, you ninny,” Derrick says, fluttering across the upper balcony. “Crystals are the best for directing powers. Everyone knows that.”

I sigh with relief and open the balcony gate to follow him. My dress rustles against the rock as I edge toward Derrick, who is hovering in front of the crystals. Though the ledge is lined by a railing, I'm high enough up that the view makes my stomach clench.

Derrick presses his hands to a particularly large crystal. “These connect to the
neimhead
,” he says with a soft smile. “The city is built right on top of it.”

“Catherine told me about that,” I say. “What do you use it for?”

“Here.” Derrick ushers me closer. He grasps one of my fingers and presses it against the surface of the crystal.

Inside the rock, a light brightens. The pressure of my finger makes the surface ripple like water. I feel an electric current from my hand all the way to the tips of my toes, so
full of energy that I shiver. It's not an unpleasant feeling, but it's warm, powerful.

“You feel that?” At my nod he says, “That's the
neimhead
.”

“You never told me anything about these,” I say, pressing my fingers harder against the stone. It's as though the crystal connects to something inside of me. Energy rushes through my veins, beneath my skin.

“Most have been destroyed by human development,” Derrick says. “This kingdom sits atop one of the most powerful
neimheads
in existence. It's why we never needed to be part of the kingdoms to thrive separately.” He smiles proudly. “Didn't need those bastards.”

The energy from the crystal is actually making me feel light-headed. No wonder the fae built the old kingdom out of them, if they're that powerful. “What does it do, then?”

Derrick flies to sit on the pointed edge of the crystal. As soon as he touches it, the glow inside grows, like light beneath water. “It's the source of power that drives the entire city. I've heard it can be used for a lot of things, but right now we're using it to amplify our power to keep the wards up.” He grins slyly. “Why don't you try?”

I pull away, startled. “
Me
?”

“No, the
other
redhead wearing a dress big enough to hide a herd of cattle.” He reaches for my hand and grasps a finger to pull it back, but I resist. “Come on. This is not the time to be a coward. Don't you want to see what you're capable of?”

“Well, of course I do—”

“Then try.” Derrick offers me an encouraging smile. “You just breathe it out like air. It's not difficult.” He waves a hand at me. “Now close your eyes.”

I arch a brow and sigh. “Really?”

He glares. “If you don't close your eyes I'll change that dress so quickly you'll look like a furry citrus fruit before you can even call me a bastard.”

I scowl, but do as he asks. His wings buzz like a hummingbird's and his feet are on my wrist as he presses my fingertips against the crystal.

I feel it again, the power inside me, like smooth water across my palm. I'm surrounded by the scent of the sea—salt and sand and wind above the city—as the touch of water becomes a current that flows over my skin, through my veins. As it heats around me, the air thickens and each breath becomes more and more difficult. A painful ache spreads through my chest.

Derrick is breathing hard, too. “You feel that?” At my nod, he says. “Good. That's your power.”

The pain blossoms, becoming more acute. At first I try to push through it, but then it lances through my body, quick and agonizing. I bite back a cry. “It hurts.”

“You have a lot of it,” he says shortly. “Now push it into the crystal, you silly thing, before you faint.”

Breathe it out
, he'd said.

I do it slowly. With each breath, I nudge the power down my arm and into my hand. I press my palm into the hard surface of the crystal. It responds, becoming a soothing
current again—like waves quelling fire. With every breath, the pain begins to ebb until finally,
finally
, it's gone completely. And I feel like I've just run across the entire blasted countryside.

I open my eyes and Derrick is staring at the crystals with a growing smile on his face. “You did it,” he says with a whoop. “Look at that!”

The crystals are shining, and when I look deep inside one of them, it's as though there are stars turning in there. Whole galaxies I created. The entire line of crystals is aflame with light that brightens the top of the structure like beacons.

BOOK: The Vanishing Throne
5.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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