she murmurs. “Part of the plan.”
Bait. I look over at Kiaran, fighting his way through fae. His power singeing the earth black. Bait. She knew they’d come. I open my mouth to scream at him to leave. “Kia—”
Sorcha’s fist smashes across my face. I stumble, spitting blood onto the muddy ground. Before I can recover, she grabs me by the arm and throws me. I roll through dirt and smack right into the base of the crystal.
“Kam!”
Sorcha doesn’t stop. As if they understand, the other fae rush Kiaran and Aithinne and surround them. Dozens of fae hold them back as Sorcha pulls me up by the neck. She slams me against the crystal.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” she hisses. “The last Falconer inherits enough of Aithinne’s powers that I can amplify them through the neimhead. Enough to overpower her.”
I glare up at her, licking blood from my lips. “So you can steal my powers to kill Aithinne?” I say bitterly.
“No, you silly girl. Your powers will revert back to their rightful owner.” Her fingernails dig into my skin, hard enough to bruise. “You see, it was Aithinne who bound the part of Kadamach that made him the Unseelie King. I need her power to reverse it.” Her lips curve into that nightmarish smile. “She made a mistake, putting her powers in human bodies. Bodies that I can kill, right down to the last one. And with the crystal’s help you’ll have just enough of her power to help me unbind it. This ends with you.”
Then she drives her blade through my chest and into the crystal behind me.
Something breaks inside of me. The fae stop fighting as Kiaran sinks to the ground with a scream that cuts to my very soul. Shadows rise from the ground, enveloping him in dark tendrils. He hunches over, his fingers digging into the dirt. The fae around him suddenly keel over, too, dropping to their knees as his power is ripped out of them. Even Sorcha is writhing in agony.
My vision hazes, but I can see how Kiaran’s body trembles, how his shoulders shake. The soil breaks, an awful crack of the earth around his palm. The shadows come thicker, darker, until I can’t see him. He has no shape; he’s become enveloped.
“No,” Aithinne whispers, rushing to me. Her eyes are wet as she looks helplessly down at the sword. “Falconer. I can’t heal this.” Her voice breaks.
I can’t speak. I feel lightheaded, dizzy, as though I’m floating. I fight to keep living. But I can’t. I feel myself leaving my body, the same way I did when Kiaran put me into the sea. Floating . . . floating.
The shadows clear, and Kiaran looks up. As I take my last breath, I meet his dark, hungry gaze, and I know he isn’t Kiaran anymore. He’s the Unseelie King.
CHAPTER 39
I AM STANDING on the top of a cliff at sunset. Far, far below me, waves crash against the rock in a soothing rhythm. The spray is cool against my skin; it smells crisp, of salt mixed with the scent of heather on the air.
Trees stretch along the top of the cliffs on either side of me. The colors are like autumn in Scotland, red and orange hued, only much more vivid. It’s as though the entire coastline is aflame.
Where am I?
The thought is fleeting, replaced by calm. It’s so still and serene here. At the horizon, the deep turquoise seawater meets the blazing sky. As the sun dips lower, the firelike clouds only grow more intense. The astonishing hues like deep slashes of paint. I close my eyes briefly against the lovely warmth of it.
I sense another presence behind me, a sudden familiar sensation of cold fingertips down my spine. Not menacing like last time; not a threat. A reminder.
She is here.
I don’t turn as she moves to stand beside me on the cliff. Out of the corner of my eye I notice her face doesn’t change this time. It remains skeletal, her skin weathered and old. Her cloak of shadows wraps deep and dark around her.
Suddenly I remember everything. Sorcha driving the sword through me and into the crystal. Pain lances through the center of my chest where the blade sliced through bone. I press my hand there. I let the ache settle until I can think clearly.
Kiaran. His dark, hungry gaze as his bound powers surged back inside of him. Now he’ll need the Wild Hunt to survive again.
Don’t you ever feel cursed?
Every