Page 67 of The Vanishing Throne

They come for us, stronger, faster than I remember seeing them in the Queen’s Park. This is the moment before our two groups meet, a space between heartbeats when we are all still and quiet and ready.

‘Dismount,’ Aithinne says.

Kiaran slides off his horse and I follow. In a human battle, staying on our horses would give us the advantage of height, but against the fae … redcaps would be able to cut through them in seconds. Aithinne’s power is thick in my mouth as she sends the horses off. They flee toward the trees in a blur of hooves; I simply blink and they’re gone.

‘Steady,’ she whispers to me this time. ‘They’re going to make a move for you by breaking this section of the crag. When they do, stay still.’ She sounds like she knows what she’s doing, like she commanded an army once.

‘Well. All right.’

Her smile is fierce. ‘Don’t worry; I think I’m going to be great at this.’

‘Youthink?’Oh, god, I’m going to die, aren’t I?

I follow her line of sight and watch the fae come for us. They are a blur of ice and wind, horses withdaoine sìthriders, faeries beautiful and deadly and powerful.Cù sìthand redcaps at the front –the brawn, as always.

‘Remember,’ Kiaran says to me, ‘they’re stronger than when they escaped the mounds.’

The redcaps collectively raise their hammers and slam them into the ground. The earth cracks and splits open.

Damn.I try to be still, even as Kiaran and Aithinne roll out of the way. The ground beneath me begins to buckle into the sea.

I don’t move. Even as my legs tremble and my stomach drops. Even as the chunk of rock holding me breaks away from the edge of the cliff.

Then I’m weightless, plunging toward the violent sea below. I bite back a scream as the redcaps and a dozen other fae dive as one to capture me in the descent.

They’re not fast enough. Before I can blink, Aithinne leaps beside me and pulls me painfully against her. We’re spinning, twisting in the air within a gust of powerful wind. She’s controlling it, preventing our fall with power so strong that I almost heave.

Then we’re thrown out of the whirlwind and we hit the ground. My teeth click together and I stop myself from rolling off the newly formed cliff. I look over just in time to see the dozen fae who had leaped after me crash into the rocks below.

I have barely a moment to appreciate Aithinne’s brilliance before the other fae are on us, dismounting and running. Kiaran, Aithinne, and I race forward. I’m relaxed, honed, ready for a fight.

I stop just before the fae reach us, aim the blunderbuss at a group ofsìthichean, and fire. The weapon slams back into my shoulder. Black powder swirls in the air, the scent noxious enough to burn my nostrils. The blast throws a few fae from their horses, the scrap metal andseilgflùrburning into them right through their clothing. Blood blossoms all over their bodies. They don’t even scream as they die.

I sense power all around me. God, the taste ofdaoine sìthpower is so strong, pricking along my skin, heavy down my throat. A strong mixture of burning iron and snow and salt. I fire the blunderbuss again and hit more of them.

The scrap metal breaks more fae skin and blood splatters across my shirt. I suddenly feel transported back to Edinburgh, when I savored the elation of a kill. The way their powers pressagainst me and flow through veins, calming. Soothing.

Lightning crackles across the sky and storm clouds gather overhead. The air is electric, heavy. Thedaoine sìthare creating this, controlling it. Their power bursts upward and the clouds open, sending down rain and ice. Hail pelts me, sharp enough to slice open my cheek. The sweet tang of blood wets my lips. Lightning bolts flash and hit the ground around us, burning through the snow, again and again. I try to dodge, but there are too many bolts – just as I recover, another strikes. Another. It feels as though the entire island shakes and trembles from the force of their combined powers.

‘Kam!’

Kiaran slams into me just before another bolt hits. His body rolls on top of mine, and I look over his shoulder to see a crater formed, about ten feet deep. That could have been me.

He whispers a word that makes me smile. ‘Together.’

I holster the blunderbuss and slide my sword out of its sheath. Kiaran and I fight alongside each other,a waltz of battle that is beautiful and smooth. We are masters. It’s just him and me, the way we always are. He cuts through the fae, swift and graceful. When they try to counterattack, he blocks it and sends their power straight back and I move in to finish the job. My blade slashes and cuts and kills.

It’s as if we’re extensions of each other.

We continue our dance. I grip his hand, and he flings me through a group of fae and I strike. He whirls me, and I slaughter again. His power wraps around me like a warm breeze over autumn wind. He tastes of spring. He tastes of the ocean and something else, wild and desperate.

When the fae try to ambush us – to break us apart –I sheath my blade and hitch the blunderbuss to my shoulder again. I fire off another shot, the spray wide and forceful.

The wind and rain around us worsens into a monstrous storm of pitch-dark clouds. The temperature drops and freezing rain continues to pelt us so hard that the water is in my eyes and numbing my skin. The wind comes in gusts of such power that I’m nearly slammed back by the force of it.

Kiaran counterattacks with his own power, but it’s not enough – he can’t do that and fight at the same time. When fae rush him, his control over the weather drops. I’m picked up off my feet and flung through the snow toward the edge of the cliff.

Aithinne is by my side immediately, dodging and slicing and cutting. After a moment’s recovery, I’m right by her side. For a moment, I feel as though I am back in the Queen’s Park the night of the Wild Hunt, a graceful creature, as faelike as I was that night. I dance as if I am in a ballroom, my feet swift in the snow. My sword hand slices and swipes as I dodge.

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