Page 19 of The Fallen Kingdom

Aside from seeing faeries, those with the Sight have other abilities. Gavin has premonitions of the future, and Daniel hears voices that contain prophecy—aboutme, specifically. According to those voices, I’m the girl whose gift is chaos, who can either save the realms or end them.

I lived up to my gift: I’m the one who broke the world.

Gavin shakes his head. “No visions. Daniel hasn’t heard any voices either. Everything has gone quiet, which I’m taking to be something of a bad omen.” He winks at me. “So drink up, darling. Might as well drown our woes while it’s still calm.”

The whisky scorches a path down my throat and I swear I’ve lost all feeling in my tongue. The sound I make is somewhere between a cough and a choke. “That is absolutely vile,” I say, passing it back.

“Last bottle of whisky on earth”—Gavin grimaces at another sip—“and it tastes of despair. You can thank the pixie for finding it.”

Derrick looks offended. “So ungrateful. See if I bother bringing you another bottle if I find one. I’ll light it on fire in front of you and watch you weep.”

Gavin smiles. “Complain, complain, complain.”

He offers me another swig and I shake my head. “So.” I look pointedly at Gavin as I lean forward to feed another log into the fire. “I take it fromyoursilence on the matter that you’re not allowed to mention Kiaran.” I tilt my head to Derrick. “This one just spent two days refusing to call him by name.”

“He deserves it,” Derrick grumbles. He drops a sewing thimble in my palm. “Pour some of that piss in here, will you?”

I roll my eyes and fill the thimble with whisky. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you changed the subject.”

“I didn’t change the subject. I’m celebrating your return by sampling this miserable beverage. Welcome back! You still owe me a dance in a pirate costume.”

Gavin looks interested. “Pirate costume?”

I relax as the new log blazes and sends a blissful wave of heat toward me. “Don’t ask. For god’s sake don’t ask.”

“Oh, but now I must know. In fact, I find myself keenly interested.”

Derrick happily opens his mouth and I shush him. “Don’t you dare. Gavin, stop indulging his deranged fantasies. He’ll probably make you a gown.”

Derrick brightens. “Oh, my giddy aunt, I never thought of that.” He immediately gives Gavin a long, assessing look, as if sizing him for a gown. “You would lookso beautifulin flounces and lace, Seer. I think blue is just your color. I’d even make you a corset—”

Gavin makes a choking sound at the back of his throat.

“—with little bows. And then I’ll make you fancy undergarments—”

“Aileana, make him stop.”

“You’re the one who encouraged him. You deserve it after not telling me about Kiaran. Now speak up. Tell me everything.”

Gavin hesitates and looks at Derrick. “Aithinne might not have threatened my life,” he finally says, “but she was very clear: She wanted to be the one to talk to you when she gets back.” He rests his elbows on the log and leans back. “Frankly, I was hoping you’d take the whisky and pass out.”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t remember Kiaran at all,” Derrick grumbles.

I make a sound of frustration. Fine, then. I have plenty of other things to ask. “Then tell me what happened to Lonnrach and Sorcha.”

Gavin shrugs. “No one has seen Lonnrach since...” I notice the way his eyes linger just below my collarbone, as if he’s searching for the scar that killed me. Then he looks away. “You wounded him and he fled after the attack. Sorcha, too.”

“Don’t remind me,” Derrick says. “I’d like to skin that pointy-toothed hag alive after what she did to Aileana. And I’d settle for keeping her brother’s head.” He pauses. Then: “He’d make a good trophy for the garden.”

Gavin looks confused. “What garden?” He gestures around us with the bottle. “We’re in the middle of the damned woods on the brink of an apocalypse.”

Derrick’s halo flashes red. “The garden I intend to make from the corpses of our enemies,” he hisses. “I can’t help it if your human mind lacks vision.”

While they natter on, my fingers curl into my palm. So Sorcha and Lonnrach got away. Of course they did. Sorcha had planned the attack for months: to find the crystal from the Old Kingdom and use its power to break Aithinne’s binding over Kiaran’s power. To turn him into the Unseelie King again. Sorcha saved me more than once to ensure that happened. She betrayed her brother. And then she killed me.

I don’t know which of them I hate more. Her, for stealing my life and taking my mother from me. Or him, for breaking my spirit and making me wish for death.

I’d murder them both if I could. But Lonnrach is Aithinne’s kill, and I couldn’t slay Sorcha even if I had the opportunity. Thousands of years ago, when Kiaran ruled over the Unseelie throne, Sorcha was his consort. They spoke a vow that bound their lives together. If Sorcha dies, so will he.

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