Page 16 of The Fallen Kingdom

“I’m afraid so.” Aithinne is standing so close that my first instinct is to step back and preserve some semblance of personal space. That is, until she says, “I’ll need to go into your mind for this. Will you let me?”

After Derrick’s response to what I did to him, I hesitate. I can only hope it’s different if you give permission. I don’t want to lose control over my powers again. But if this is the only way to regain what I lost...

I shut my eyes and nod.

Aithinne places her hands on either side of my head and I feel her power extend toward me. The touch of it is light at first, as gentle as a summer breeze. Then all at once, it pricks me with a hard, swift sting.

My power shoves back at hers and Aithinne flinches.

“Blimey.” Her energy unfurls toward me again, more careful this time. Stroking, dancing around mine with a prodding touch. “Well, that’s...not good.”

Something about the way she says that knots my stomach in dread. “What?”

Aithinne shakes her head once. “Let me in. I need to see.”

My power resists at first. It’s defensive; it doesn’t like someone else touching or manipulating it. Aithinne soothes it the way one might calm a wild animal: by proving she’s not a threat. She coaxes it to relax in gentle touches. Then, after several moments, it does and she’s through.

Bursts of memory come so fast that I can barely keep up. Me on a cliff at sunset with a touch of cold fingertips along my spine. The skeletal woman stands next to me, her body trembling with her last breaths.

The woman is speaking about a book. What book?

I cry out as Aithinne delves further into my mind, tearing through memories like she’s scratching at my skin. It hurts. It hurts.It hurts.

My power surges, all heat and bluster—a clear message toback off. I’m aware of Aithinne clinging to me, her fingers digging into my shoulders hard enough to bruise. She manages to pull up the memory we need—the one I’ve tried to recall all this time.

Leabhar Cuimhne. The Book of Remembrance.

My power slams into her. With a startled gasp, Aithinne is thrown into the air. She smacks hard into a nearby tree, landing in a heap on the ground.

Derrick flies over to help her. “What the hell happened?” he asks me.

I don’t know.

My head is pounding. Memories flash across my mind—too fast for me to grasp. As if Aithinne broke open a door and didn’t shut it behind her. I’m assaulted by feelings and images and thoughts and words and it’s too much. There are too many.

Me running through the streets of Edinburgh at night. Me in a mirrored room, helpless and at the mercy of Lonnrach. Me impaled through the chest and my vision fading as I died just in time to see—

Kiaran.

Kiaran. That’s his name.Him. The Unseelie King. Kiaran.

He loved you so much that when you died, he might as well have died with you.

Dimly, I hear the distant clamor of footsteps. “Aithinne?” a familiar voice calls. Then: “Bloody hell. What happened?”

The blond woman by the fire. Catherine, my best friend.I remember. I remember.

Catherine sees me and freezes. Her voice is ragged with emotion when she finally speaks. “Aileana?”

“Don’t go near her.” Derrick shoves his way between us, his halo flashing crimson. “Until Aileana has a hold over her powers, she might hurt you. So don’t move.”

My heart squeezes at his words.She might hurt you.

Derrick has never said that about me. Ever. I’m his companion, his friend. Our history repeats behind my eyes and each instance is like a blade twisting a little deeper in my gut. Even at my darkest, he trusted me. He always has. Until now.

Catherine seems uncertain until her eyes meet mine. Her expression softens. “Are you all right?”

“Did you miss the part where she threw Aithinne into a tree?” Derrick demands. “Doyouwant to be tossed around like a sack of potatoes?” He throws up his hands. “Humans. You don’t listen.”

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