beak grinds against the rock, and I snatch Lonnrach’s sword from the sheath.
He lunges for me with a shout, but my sword hand is quick. I slash him across the torso. Blood blossoms along his crisp white shirt as he drops to his knees. I almost move in for a killing blow, but I stop myself.
He’s not mine to kill.
“Falconer.”
Sorcha grabs my coat, but I slam my boot into her thigh. Her grip loosens and I race toward the digging fae, my feet slipping down into the crevasse, my ankle painfully taking my weight. I don’t stop, not even when I hear Sorcha’s warning shout from above.
The other fae turn to me, their uncanny eyes glowing, and they attack.
My power rushes inside of me in response. It is a brutal force that takes me over, ignites me. My stolen sword becomes an extension of me, burning with flame. I slice through the first redcap that comes at me with a hammer swinging, no effort at all.
The mechanical creatures are on their feet, and one leaps into the air right for me. I slash. Light bursts from my sword and tears through the metal so easily.
Then I hear a shout from above. Aithinne. “Destroy the crystal!”
Destroy it?
More fae attack before I can respond. I slice my sword through the air, plunging into another fae. Everything happens in a blur of movement. With my powers awakened, I am quicker, agile, strong. I’m suddenly aware of Kiaran and Aithinne fighting fae with me.
Their swords slash, their powers scorch through stone. I watch rock strip away and the earth crack open from the force of their blows. A violent storm surges above our heads, created by the fae to fight back. Water breaks from the suspended sea wall in a violent swell that knocks me off my feet.
The crystal. I have to get to the crystal. I whirl and slice through another fae. My movements are quick as I break for it again, my boots pounding across the uneven earth as I dodge attacks.
But before I can reach it, Sorcha is there, her sword out in a quick arc that nearly guts me. I dodge and parry. But she is agile, much faster than I am.
I slash once, slicing her cheek open. Her fingers touch the injury and she looks surprised.
“Something to remember me by,” I tell her.
She flashes her teeth, licking the blood away, and leaps for me. I whirl, my movements defensive.
With every stroke of my sword, I remind myself that although I may not be able to kill Sorcha with my powers, this sword was forged with fae metal. Her body isn’t invulnerable the way Kiaran’s is. If I manage a killing blow, Kiaran will die with her through their bond.
I do the only thing I can do: I defend myself against her assault, my sword clanging against hers, releasing sparks of power. I slam it into her to shove her away.
Then I can feel her in my mind. A forceful presence, pressing her way inside of me. “You may have power, Falconer, but I know all the ways to break you.”
Sorcha shows me the girl I once was, the bloody girl by her mother’s body. She tries to bring it out of my heart.
She doesn’t understand.
I’m not a creature of vengeance anymore. I’m not just the girl whose gift is chaos. I died and came back. I’m the girl who endured.
I knock her off her feet. I slash my sword, almost moving in for a killing blow at her abdomen—
Killing her kills Kiaran.
The blade changes trajectory at the last second, catching her at the shoulder. I hiss in frustration and she smiles. “Can’t kill me, can you, Falconer? You’re not ready to lose Kadamach.”
“Stop talking!”
I launch myself at her, but she’s on her feet before I can blink, dodging my attack. She’s quick. She moves as swift as a feline hunter, twisting away from me as I strike.
She slams into my mind, digging, digging, digging. Not showing me the girl this time, but trying to turn me into her. I stagger back, crying out against the pounding pain at my temples.
While I’m distracted, she knocks the sword out of my hand and slices her blade across my cheek. The wound stings, and I feel blood drip down my neck, a mirror of the injury I gave her.
“Something to remember me by,” she whispers. She glances at where Kiaran is fighting the mortair. “I hoped he’d come for you.”
I freeze. “What?”
“Bait,”