‘Something awful,’ she repeats. ‘Does it have to do with . . . him?’ She nods at Derrick.
‘Not him, but other fae who would harm you, given the chance.’
‘I see.’ She’s looking rather ill again. ‘At Lord Hepburn’s ball, you mentioned an evil faery. That’s what attacked the poor man, wasn’t it?’
‘Unfortunately.’
‘What about you?’ she asks me. ‘You still haven’t told me what you do when you vanish.’
Uncertainly, I sip my tea. This time, I can’t look at her. I don’t want to see her face when I tell her. ‘I kill them.’
‘Oh.’ Out of the corner of my eye, I see her lift a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh,’ she says again softly. ‘I don’t . . . I’m sorry, I don’t quite know what to say.’
I nod in understanding. I don’t know what to say, either.
‘Will you leave, too?’ she says faintly. ‘Or will you . . .’ She doesn’t continue.
‘One startling revelation a day, remember,’ I say gently. ‘I’ve already made two.’
Chapter 33
An electric lantern floats above my head in the garden, illuminating the prickly hedges that have lost their lush green leaves for the winter. I reach up and gently nudge it, so it casts light on the engine for the steam-powered locomotive I’ve been working on for months.
I put the gland and valve rods in position for the steam-chest, concentrating solely on the movement of my hands as I fit the pieces of metal together. If I don’t keep busy, I’ll be forced to think about the impossible puzzle of the seal that I’ve spent the entire day trying to solve, and about the consequences if I fail. If I allow myself to consider that even for a moment, I suddenly find it very difficult to breathe.
I’m taking longer than necessary to complete the steam-chest. No matter. When I finish here, I’ll find something else to build. Something even more complicated that will help clear my mind for when I go back to figuring out the seal.
I wipe the back of my greasy hand against my cheek to brush back an errant strand of hair, then position a bolt in the engine. A few swift jerks of the spanner and it fits snugly in place.
The locomotive’s body is a scaled-down version of the ones that grace the front of trains. It rests on four wheels, the rear pair larger than the front, both body and wheels attached to a manoeuvring mechanism I’ve designed to be effective over rockier terrain. The steam engine at the front uses fuel more efficiently than my ornithopter, so the vehicle is fast. Like my ornithopter, the vehicle’s roof is entirely retractable. The interior boasts two leather seats with a standing platform behind them.
Stored underneath the platform is my latest invention: a sonic cannon. It launches a narrow, intense blast of sound that reaches beyond the human pain threshold and well past that of a fae. One shot should disorientate a number of them, a distraction we may need. I mentally thank thecù sìthfor the inspiration.
‘Kam.’
I jump and drop the spanner. The tool lands in the grass with a muffledthunk. I was so absorbed in my own thoughts that I didn’t even sense him beside me, or notice the taste of his power. ‘How long have you been standing there?’
Kiaran frowns, studying me. He’s wearing rough raploch again, his hunting clothes. ‘Not long. You look upset.’
‘All things considered,’ I say, ‘I think I’m handling my impending death quite well, don’t you?’
My words have no visible effect on Kiaran. He stares at the locomotive. ‘What’s this?’
‘Transport,’ I say. ‘An alternative if the ornithopter is destroyed. It’ll hold any extra weapons. Speaking of which –’ I reach for the sonic cannon ‘– I’d like to test something on you.’
Kiaran raises an eyebrow. ‘Are you planning to shoot me again?’
‘You’ll see.’
I slip plugs into my ears, then rest the barrel of the cannon on my shoulder and lower the intensity to give him just a wee blast.
I pull the release. Kiaran staggers most satisfyingly and his lips move in the shape of averybad word. I bite back my laughter. I made Kiaran swear.
Smiling, I remove the plugs. ‘I’d say that worked very well, wouldn’t you?’
Kiaran moves too quickly for me to register. Suddenly he’s standing so close to me that I have to tip my head back to see his face. ‘If you wanted to fight, all you had to do was ask.’ He lifts the cannon from my shoulder and puts it on the passenger seat. ‘Try to best me again.’
‘I’m not in the mood, MacKay.’