Page 48 of The Falconer

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 thecù 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 mysgian 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 thecù 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. Thecù 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, thecù sìthleaps 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 theseilgflùrnecklace at my throat. This is all I have, the only object on me that can hurt a faery. As thecù sìthturns to leap again, I yank the necklace off.

‘Aileana,’ Gavin says. ‘Don’t—’

Before thecù sìthcan 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 thecù sìthbucks 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 theseilgflùrgrasped tight in my fist. I wrap the plaited strand around thecù sìth’s neck and pull hard. The hound lets out a single gasp, then a tiny whimper.

Thecù sìthbucks against me, trying to sink its teeth into my arm.Seilgflùrburns 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 theseilgflùrleaves 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 thecù 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 acù sìth. Surely you didn’t miss it?’

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