Page 108 of The Falconer

There’s no time to make sure it’s dead. Horses surround me,daoine sìthraise their blades andsluaghcircle above us, their piercing screams so stark amid the quiet.

Then a hand clasps mine. Kiaran.

There, amid the chaos, I want to tell him something. That I wish I had more time with him, or that I regret never saying just how much I care for him.

Kiaran nods, as if he understands, and turns from me. He slides his blades from their sheaths. I press my back to his and face in the other direction. We’re ready.

The horses surge forward and I leap and swing my blades. Metal clashes against metal, loud and deafening. The air is still and charged with power, surrounding us with glimmering, brilliant colours. Power slices through me with such force that my muscles protest and ache.

I ignore the pain and slash adaoine sìth, slam my fist into another’s face, dodge blade after blade. Fae-powered lightning strikes my shoulder and the current burns through me. Kiaran’s power swells inside me and when I hold out my blades, light erupts from them and slams into a group ofdaoine sìth.

Another stretches out his hand and vines break free from the ground, wrapping around my arms and feet. Power bursts from me. The plants disintegrate and fall, naught but ash.

I leap forward and slice the faery’s throat with my blade. Blood gushes onto my armour and into those tiny silver veins that run along the vambraces. The faery blood amalgamates with my armour. The rush from death is strong, a quickening energy that fills me up until I think I might burst.

My blades plunge through armour and slice into bone and sinew. I whirl on my toes and slam my metal fist into another faery’s gut. The force of my blow sends her flying, but she recovers and throws up her hands. Power crashes into me, quick and forceful enough to bruise my chest through the metal breastplate.

The taste of dry earth slides down my throat and I’m suddenly surrounded by flames. Fire burns through my armour and scorches my flesh. But Kiaran’s power is a current inside me and I feel it take over, healing and energising, resonating through the armour, through the faery blood that covers it, through my heart. I draw upon all that power and gather it together inside me, the strength of a storm, and hurl it at the wall of fire.

The flames dissipate around me and the savage part of me screams with victory.

Thedaoine sìthtries to throw more energy at me, but Kiaran’s power is too strong. I sheathe a blade to aim the lightning pistol at the faery’s head and shoot. So easy.

Surrounded by rain and bodies, I look towards the end of the valley, where the outskirts of the city stand.Daoine sìthare riding away from the meadow on horseback. Away from the battle and towards my home. I notice Gavin circling my flying machine there, watching to make sure the battle doesn’t spill into the city. I won’t give them the chance.

I sprint for the locomotive, holstering my pistol and touching my blades together so they revert to the star-shaped disc, which slides back into my breastplate. Once inside, I shove at a lever to open the weapons compartment, bringing out the sonic cannon.

As I feel around for earplugs, I shout, ‘Kiaran!’

‘Aye?’

He’s in the locomotive behind me, covered in blood and dirt. His eyes burn bright.

I toss him another pair of earplugs. ‘You’ll be needing these.’

I slip my own plugs snugly into my ears and heave the canon onto my shoulder and flip the intensity level all the way up. For a brief moment, I savour a silence so thick that no sound can penetrate it. The calm before a squall. The sweet sound of peace just before the chaos.

Then I aim for the faeries and pull the release. The contraption shudders in my hands and I watch them fall to the ground as the wave of sound hits them.

I turn and aim again to incapacitate the larger group, which is already pounding fast towards me on their horses. I pull the release again. When the sound pulse hits, they fall in waves as though something solid has crashed into them. The faeries closest to me lie twisted on the ground, bleeding from their ears.

I pull out my earplugs and smile at Kiaran. ‘Decent distraction, aye?’

Kiaran looks impressed. ‘I knew there was a reason I liked you.’

I nod to the incapacitated fae at the far side of the park. ‘Your kill or mine?’

‘Mine,’ Kiaran says. His smile is slow and terrifying. ‘Definitely mine.’

He leaps out of the locomotive and sprints toward the others. If I didn’t have so many enemies at my back, I would have gone with him.

Instead, I throw myself at a circlingsluaghand plunge my blade into its neck. Cold mist erupts and ice adheres to my armour.

I rush my enemies again. It happens so fast, there’s no time to focus on any particular individual. When one comes at me, I kill it. Then another, then another. I use my explosives and rock and earth rain down on me. The meadow illuminates with power and the sky with flashes of light. Energy hits me and I endure the pain. I dodge, I slice.

I don’t know how many faeries I’ve killed. All that matters is the rush of energy as they die, the sheer joy of it. I slash my blades into the air and watch my borrowed power burst out of me. It slams into more bodies and the shrieks are deafening.

Kiaran’s abilities are intoxicating. The hunt should always be this way. The thrill, the victory. The fear. I need more.

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