Page 55 of The Vanishing Throne

‘I used to think that after what happened to my mother,’ I say, finishing my food. I settle next to her. ‘That I would wake up one day and she’d be alive and my life would be tea parties and assemblies again. But then I wonder if I was ever really meant for that world at all.’

‘How silly of me.’ Her cheeks darken, as if she’s embarrassed. ‘You knew what was out there while I spoke of suitors and dances. I must have looked like such a fool.’

‘Never,’ I tell her. ‘Not to me.’

Somewhere a door slams shut and I hear a shout in heavy accented Scots.Catherine looks annoyed. ‘That would be my husband winning at whist,’ she mutters. ‘It would seem I need to have another talk with him about his abhorrent behavior. I can’t apologize enough for what happened.’

‘It’s not your fault,’ I say tightly. And it might be terribly inappropriate to box my dearest friend’s husband in the face for what he did, to say nothing of what he almost called me.

‘Bollocks.’ I gape at Catherine; I’ve never heard her use that word before. ‘They played with your life. You could have died, and I said as much to my fool brother. He should have known a Falconer wouldn’t need to be tested. You would be able to resist fae influence just like a Seer.’

I freeze. I had confided in Catherine about slaying faeries, but I hadnever revealed anything about being a Falconer. ‘Youknow?’

‘Of course I know,’ she says with a wave of her hand. ‘If you thought that was a secret Gavin could keep for three years … the man can’t even hide where he keeps his best whisky from me. He gives a decent bluff to anyone else, but I find him to be anawfulliar.’

More laughter erupts from down the hall and I stare at the door that leads to the pixie city. When I imagine Derrick’s kingdom, I assume it would accommodate his small size, with buildings that wouldn’t fit humans at all. ‘What does it look like?’

Catherine follows my gaze. ‘Oh, the city?’

I put a hand up to interrupt her. ‘Before you say anything else,pleasedon’t tell me we’re in some pocket pixie realm on Skye. All of us shrunk down to the size of bugs, or something.’ At Catherine’s baffled look, I say, ‘This is my absurd way of bracing myself.’

‘No, no. Nothing like that,’ she assures me. ‘We’re still in the human realm. The pixies built the city underwater between the mainland and Skye. They erected tunnels that lead all around the island—’ She halts, flashing a devious smile, the same one she’s had since we were children. ‘It seems I’ll just have to show you, won’t I?’

Chapter 20

When Gavin and the others referred to the pixie kingdom as a city, I thought perhaps that was what they simply called it when they came here to live, a familiar word for an unfamiliar place. In fact, itisa city. A real city. One so massive I can scarcely believe it has been hidden underwater all this time.

My room is on the fourth deck of a toweringbeehive-shaped structure beneath the sea. Tall, arching columns form the supporting framework, which is set within the bedrock of the undersea cave system. Those columns appear made of quartz. Upon closer inspection, I notice a glimmer to the rock, a fernlike pattern of inclusions along the surface. It juts out to form rows and rows of balconies with their own arched entrances, each one leading to individual doors – hundreds of them. They make up a structure that curves up toward the surface of the water between the Isle of Skye and the mainland.

Above us, some lights twinkle like stars while others zip back and forth between the uppermost balconies. It takes me a moment to realise they aren’t stars; they’re fae. More will-o’-the-wisps. My hand immediately touches the deepest bites on my neck, now healed over in a thick scar.

The startling sound of chatter draws my attention back to the ground. It looks so much like the streets of a Scottish city: the cobbled roads arelined with lamps that make them shine. The buildings are tall, towering, and thin as tenements. Between them are houses of flawless white marble. Others are built from the cave stone that resembles sparkling black obsidian.

And there are people – hundreds of people – walking about and smiling and laughing and chatting. They wander the streets through something like a market, with so much produce and food.

From here I can see signs for things I’ve never seen or tasted before: Egyptian oranges, coconuts from the West Indies . . . The fae can grow or retrieve anything a human desired. They could create food from nothing, if they wanted. Is this part of their truce with humans?

Catherine steps up beside me. ‘Extraordinary, isn’t it?’

I glance back at the wisps again, watching them weave around each other like hundreds of fireflies. I remember the pressure of their bites, the blinding pain. My hand itches for a weapon for protection, even though the wisps don’t seem to notice I’m here. ‘Aye. Extraordinary.’

Catherine must have heard the catch in my voice, because she immediately looks over in concern. ‘Are you all right?’She notices the focus of my attention, still on the wisps. ‘They won’t hurt you here without breaking the truce, but if you need to go inside, I understand.’

I can’t help my unease. I killed the fae for a year before Lonnrach put me in that prison. My relationship with the fae is marked by violence; I don’t trust them, even with the truce.

Lonnrach’s voice is unrelenting in my memories. A cruel taunt to the powerless girl in his prison.Now you know precisely how it feels to be that helpless.

‘No,’ I say, more sharply than I intended. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Aileana—’

‘You were going to tell me about the city. Please continue.’

Catherine sighs and leans against the balustrade. ‘We rebuilt most of it. When we arrived, the buildings had been almost completely destroyed.’ She half smiles. ‘And, of course, the remaining ones couldn’t fit a human. We kept the structure itself, but the rest is ours.’

There is pride in her voice as she looks out at the buildings. I hate being unable to share that with her. I lied about being fine.

Focus, I tell myself.Calm. My hands slip to my pockets, where I usually keep wee inventions to tinker with, only to find none. So I grip the hem of my coat. ‘You built all of this in only a few years?’ My voice sounds strained and I hope she doesn’t notice.

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