Page 54 of The Falconer

For once, I’m grateful to Kiaran for the endless practice fights. If he hadn’t trained me so ruthlessly, I wouldn’t be at all able to plunge down clock towers or ignore the pain of landing. I get up, like he always tells me to.

The maintenance door is where I thought it would be. It takes me two tries to kick it open, until the hinges groan and the wood cracks. Dust flies into my face as I hurl myself outside and suck in the cold night air.

Across the road, I spot the scaffold-covered ivory monument in memory of Sir Walter Scott at the edge of the Nor’ Loch. Princes Street, finally.

‘Almost there,’ I mutter.

The muscles in my legs ache in protest as I race towards Charlotte Square. The rain is falling even harder now, spilling from my hair onto my forehead as I pass blocky white buildings containing small stores. My breathing hitches when the smoky dryness overwhelms my mouth again. The hounds bay once more, so close. I never thought they would find me again this quickly, and my fire-starter won’t be as effective in this kind of rain. But I still have my pistol.

I jerk the weapon from its holster. The conductor spines rise and the core rods open as I spin and aim for a spot that makes the taste in my mouth scorch my tongue. Praying my instincts are correct, I pull the trigger.

The invisible hound yelps and I grin in triumph, watching as the electricity snakes outward from an invisible point. I would savour the kill, but I don’t have time.

I dash up the street, breath heaving, and the welcome sight of my ornithopter encourages me to run faster. Gavin is already inside.

‘Aileana.’ He sounds relieved to see me.

I sling the crossbow and satchel off my back and toss them inside. Then I jump into the leather seat, flipping switches to start the machine, and press my feet down on the pedals for an emergency take-off. The ornithopter lifts quickly with a strong flap of its wings.

On the ground below, the hounds howl, their frustration echoing across the square. I only hope that Derrick and Kiaran can kill them, since I couldn’t.

Rain batters the metal-boned wings as we rise over Charlotte Square. I tilt my face to the falling droplets and exhale a long breath. My body relaxes.

We soar through the misty skies over Edinburgh. Clouds cloak the buildings in New Town, but the orange glow of city lights filters through. The air is colder up here, wetter. It seeps through my soiled dress and I shiver.

I stare at the hazy city below and let my muscles slacken, content to never move again. I long to close my eyes and let the flying machine take me far away, away from my responsibilities and a broken seal that threatens the lives of everyone I care about.

After a while, we rise up over Leith and the machine’s rocking soothes me. The flapping wings sound vaguely like a heartbeat, soft and reassuring.Whoosh-whoosh, whoosh-whoosh.

‘Thank you,’ I tell Gavin once I’ve calmed my breathing. ‘For helping me.’

‘Always prepared to come to the aid of a lady in need,’ he says. ‘It’s my gentlemanly duty.’

I glance at him in amusement and lean back in my chair.

‘They were looking for you,’ he says softly. ‘Weren’t they?’

It’s so quiet up here, no sounds except falling rain and heartbeat wings. I swing the helm towards the Forth and study the masts of ships protruding through the fog.

‘Aye.’

‘You’re not a Seer,’ he says.

His features are unreadable. I wish I could understand what he’s thinking. It would help me decide how much to tell him, how much danger I’m willing to put him in.

Gavin stares out at the calm sea fog, his breathing shallow. ‘I don’t know a damn thing about you any more, do I?’

It hurts to swallow. My throat tightens and I think I might choke on my response. ‘I’m the same person I’ve always been.’

I don’t know why I feel compelled to lie to him. Gavin has seen the fae, he knows what they do to people. He helped me at great risk to himself. Yet I want him to look at me the way he did earlier at the ball before Derrick came back from the kitchen, without a question in his eyes. With a certainty that I am precisely the same woman he left two years ago.

Instead, I’m sitting in a dark flying machine, wearing the torn remains of a gown that’s covered with blood and dirt. I lost count of how many fae I just slaughtered. I’m a ruined girl who made her choice. This is who I am, a night creature who thrives on death and destruction.

‘No,’ he says. ‘You’re not the same person. So what are you, Aileana? I deserve to know after that.’

I unbuckle the fire-starter from my arm and jerk the gauntlet off my hand. I toss it into the back of the ornithopter.What are you?I don’t even deserve to be awhoany more. He must think I’m no better than the creatures I hunt.

‘I’m human,’ I snap. ‘That’s what I am. Just like you.’

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