Page 98 of The Vanishing Throne

I sense a presence next to me, but I’m too dizzy. I shake my head once.

‘There now. You’re back and good as new,’ says a shaky voice. It’s Aithinne. She looks weak and tired and her nose is bleeding. She smiles her familiar smile, then says, ‘Easy.’

Before I can say anything, a high-pitched squeal pierces the air. Derrick barrels into me, all wings and arms and legs tangled in my hair. ‘You’re alive, you bloody idiot, you’re alive!’

Gavin comes to sit next to me, his blond hair plastered to his forehead. He unbuttons his heavy wool coat and wraps it around my shoulders. I accept it gratefully, my fingers so numb I can barely keep it closed.

‘Welcome back to the land of the living,’ Gavin says. He gestures upward with a familiar half-smile. ‘I’m guessing it worked.’

I realise then that there are drops of water suspended in the air all around us. They glisten like millions upon millions of shining diamonds stretching across the beach.

In wonder, I touch one. It undulates as my finger passes through it, then breaks into a dozen smaller droplets. ‘Am I doing this?’ I ask Aithinne.

She gives me a weak smile. ‘Controlling it takes some work. If you breathe out calmly and picture them slowly lowering—’

I blink and the drops fall to the ground with a heavy splat.

‘Or do that instead.’ Then she says reassuringly, ‘You tried.’

‘Sorry.’

Gavin takes a moment to recover, swiping at his wet hair. He holds up a dangling strand ofseilgflùr. ‘This might not be as impressive as suspending water, but I guess you won’t be needing it any more.’

Won’t be needing it? I touch the base of my throat, expecting the thistle to be where I left it, but it’s gone. With a startled gasp, I reach for Derrick, closing my fingers around his body.

‘Igh!’’Derrick cries, grabbing for strands of my hair. ‘Not so tight. I’m a pixie, not a damn flower.’

With a huff, he releases my plait and sits on my palm – and for the first time, I see him without the aid ofseilgflùr. It’s so different, like having a veil lifted from my eyes. His face is the same, his elfin features unchanged, but there’s a lovely effervescent glow to him that he never had before – like the way Kiaran looked when we were in theSìth-bhrùthfor the first time. Derrick’s wings glisten like morning dewdrops. The wee veins inside them look likestrands of gold.

Derrick shifts uncomfortably. ‘Are you just going to stare at me?’ He motions to my clothes. ‘Aithinne had a hell of a time bringing you back.’

That’s when I look down and see that I’m covered in blood, my shift entirely drenched with it. I hiss in a sharp breath. ‘Bloody hell,’ I murmur. ‘What happened?’

Derrick flies off and lands on Gavin’s shoulder. The silence is an unbearable thing. It’s Aithinne who answers. ‘After thebrìghlost your energy, it took me hours to find you.’ Her voice trembles with cold.

Hours? After the Cailleach wilted the flower, she must have been shifting us between memories to make Aithinne’s search even more difficult. No wonder she decided ontruthover any other ‘gifts’she could have bestowed.

Aithinne looks so fragile, like she’ll break. The blood from her cuts streams down her arms. Her nose is bleeding; so are her hands, her wrists, her arms. Some are thin cuts, some dug to bone.

Blood for blood, Kiaran had said. Was this the sacrifice she had to make to bring me back? Aithinne’s dark hair is loose from its chignon, sticking to the ice flaked to her forehead. Even her skin is blue.

‘Here,’ I say, slipping Gavin’s coat from my shoulders to wrap around her. I glance at Gavin, but he’s not looking at me. He’s watching Aithinne, as if he wants to help but isn’t certain how.

Her wounds aren’t even closing up, certainly not as quickly as they usually do. Her blood is dripping onto the beach rocks. ‘You’re not healing.’

Aithinne sways a bit, her skin growing even more paler. ‘Part of the sacrifice,’ she whispers. ‘Can’t use powers to heal, and I had to use more blood than I expected.’ Her eyes are unfocused. ‘You know, I don’t think I feel well. I think …’

‘Shit,’ Gavin murmurs, reaching her before she pitches forward. He scoops her up in his arms. ‘Aithinne?’ She doesn’t respond; her eyes are closed, cheek pressed against his chest. ‘I need to get her inside,’ he says. The front of his shirt is already soaked through with her blood. ‘One of the fae can stitch her up.’

‘No.’ Aithinne suddenly squirms against him. ‘Don’t let anyone see me like this.’

‘Take her behind your door, Seer,’ Derrick says. ‘I’ll stitch her up myself.’ A wee grin crosses his face. ‘I’ll even be gentle.’

‘You’d better be,’ Aithinne breathes.

Now that that’s settled, I ask, ‘Where is Kiaran?’

Gavin and Derrick both look to the water. I follow their gaze across the beach, to the ocean waves tumbling in. Kiaran stands fully clothed, the waves around his knees.

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