Page 8 of The Vanishing Throne

At one time I would have resisted Lonnrach’s intrusion on these memories, but now I eagerly go along with it. I am desperate to feel again, for the spectrum of emotions my memories bring. They remind me of who I was, and that I’m still human.

Just for a little while, I think.So I have something to hold onto.

I sense Lonnrach’s surprise when Kiaran and I kiss, when Kiaran grabs my coat to pull me closer. This is one of my few memories that remains whole, complete. That kiss is imprinted in my mind: the press of Kiaran’s lips, his fingers against my skin. I know that kiss by heart.

In my memory, I pull away. ‘Leave.’ I can hear the desperation in my voice. ‘You still have time. Save yourself—’

Another kiss, as if Kiaran’s telling me this is goodbye. Asif he’s memorizing my lips, too. ‘Have I ever told you the vow asìthichemakes when he pledges himself to another?Aoram dhuit. I will worship thee.’

Lonnrach pulls out of the memory so quickly that I sway on my feet. We’re back in the hall of mirrors and he’s already wiping his lips with the white kerchief he brought. Always a different one. My blood stains them all.

My legs won’t hold me. I sink to the ivy floor as Lonnrach turns away, wordlessly striding toward the nearest mirror.

‘Wait.’ I’m surprised by my voice. It seems like an eternity since I’ve spoken. I sound raspy, my throat dry from disuse.

Lonnrach stops. He doesn’t even turn. ‘Is there something you need?’

It’s been so long since I’ve heard his voice, too. He has no need to taunt me anymore, to break me with his words. I’ve accepted his food and drink. He has taken my blood. He’s stolen my memories. What else is there to say?

And yet … that memory made me feel longing again. Passion. Grief. Once I’m alone, that will all go away and I’ll go back to pressing my fingers against his bloody teeth marks, hoping to conjure it all up again.

‘I only want to talk.’ I swallow once.Good god, I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’d kill him if I could.‘That’s all.’

This time, Lonnrach turns and looks at me. The weight of his gaze is heavy, assessing. ‘Why?’

Because I don’t want to be alone anymore. Because I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve been here. Because I don’t have anyone left. Because we’ve shared more than a year of my memories. Because you’ve left two thousand two hundred and fourteen individual teeth marks on my skin that will never, ever let me forget that everything I’ve lost is my fault.

I bite my tongue so none of those words spill out. Maybe one day I’ll become hopeless and desperate enough to utter them.Maybe. But not yet. ‘Because you’ve seen my memories and yet you’ve said little about yourself at all.’

‘Your memories serve a purpose.’ He takes another step, raises his hand to the mirror. ‘Mine don’t.’

I try again. I don’t mention how he extracts the inconsequential memories of my life before I saw my first faery, ones that serve no purpose at all. ‘Why do you hate Kiaran?’

Lonnrach’s hand curls into a fist. I persist, possibly against my best judgement. ‘You told me I would regret not killing him. I want to know why.’

Lonnrach slowly turns around. His eyes are sharp and slate grey; his gaze fallsupon the teeth marks he left on my wrist.

I immediately pull my knees into my chest like a shield.

Just when I think he might do something to make me regret my words, he finally speaks. ‘YourKiaranis the worst sort of traitor, and his sister is no different. Now it’s up to me to fix their mistakes.’ The way he regards me, his message is clear:Which includes you.

Me. He considers me a mistake. Because Kiaran made me the same as him.

‘And save your realm?’I try to say it lightly, but I can’t stop the bitterness that tinges my words.You sacrificed my realm to save yours.‘Is your monarch dead?’

Lonnrach seems to go still, as if startled by my question. ‘Perhaps.’ He considers his words carefully. ‘No one has seen the Cailleach for thousands of years. The heirs she left behind to rule were … unworthy. Without a monarch, theSìth-bhrùthwill wither. Someone must take her place.’

‘And you think you’re worthy.’ It sounds like an accusation, but I’m trying to understand why he has spent so much time painstakingly exploring my memories.

He casts me a meaningful glance, as if he can read my thoughts. ‘No. But I will be.’

I call his name when he turns to leave. I see the tightness in his shoulders, as if he dreads my next query. ‘What was it like when you were trapped below the city?’

Was it like in here? Did you stop fighting, too?

Lonnrach speaks deliberately, devoid of emotion. ‘The first hundred years we spent trying to escape until our nails wore grooves into the underground rock. Energy we stole from the occasional humans we managed to compel through the prison’s shield were barely enough to keep us all sated. That place became like a tomb.’

In his profile, I notice how tight his jaw is, as if he’s controlling his anger. ‘I won’t ever forget that it was your kin who put us there. That your preciousKiaranand his sister helped.’ He looks over at my mirrors, to my hundreds of different reflections. My cage. ‘Now you know precisely how it feels to be that helpless.’

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