go get the bastard.”
He leaves so fast that all I see is a streak of light out the door. I follow him, snatching up my freshly filled blunderbuss on the way out of the room. As I’m slinging the holster across my back, Tavish stops me. “You’re not going out there.”
“And you’re going to stop me . . . how?”
Tavish raises an eyebrow. “Look, lass, I understand wanting to help, but there’s nothing you can do.”
Aithinne’s laugh comes from behind us. “He’s so handsome, but not too bright,” she says fondly, as if he were a pet. “And he still hasn’t learned never to underestimate a woman with a sword and a firearm.”
I turn to see Kiaran and Aithinne striding across the balcony toward us, Derrick just behind them. Aithinne flashes Tavish her most winning smile, which looks more than a bit frightening. “Hullo!” she says to both of us serenely. “We’re here to rescue your friends, and all their limbs.” A pause, then: “Well, no. I can’t promise all their limbs, but most, surely . . .”
“What my sister is trying to say,” Kiaran interrupts, “is that we’ll bring them back alive. Mostly in one piece.” I love the way he looks at me then, with expectation, a hint of a smile. God, I missed this. “Ready?”
Yes. “Always.” I ignore Tavish’s bewildered expression and ask, “Where do we need to go?”
CHAPTER 23
WE RIDE for the cliffs on the west end of the island. Ossaig runs at full speed, charging hard across the land. Skye in winter is icy; all of the branches and grass are framed in thin crystals that crunch beneath her hooves as we make our way up the hills.
Trees have fallen across the slopes, their branches crackling and groaning around us. I can’t help but admire the way Kiaran rides beside me. There’s such command, such calm in how he holds himself—the way he does everything.
I force my attention back to our route through the forest. Snow falls across the icy terrain, melting against my face. The atmosphere Ossaig creates as she runs is heated. Her coat steams, as do my clothes and my skin. I rest my hand against the warm, soft fur along her neck and whisper a single word: Hurry.
She speeds forward. She doesn’t tire; I never even hear her breathe. But I feel the movement of her mechanical parts against my thigh, the way they pump the gold liquid through her veins in a constant beat.
Even the snowy landscape in Skye is beautiful, unearthly. The hills are dusted and capped with white, the grassy meadows coated in a fine layer of frost. We head through the line of trees into an area of woodland that’s thick and difficult to see through. It’s a tangle of sharp-limbed branches, covered in snow so fresh that it hasn’t been disturbed yet.
Branches tug at my hair, my coat, snapping off around me. Ossaig runs silently, her hooves barely touching the forest floor. I dart a glance behind us and there aren’t even prints left in the snow. It remains undisturbed, as if she floated right over it.
“Head north.”
Kiaran’s voice startles me. I look over. “What? But Tavish said—”
“He’s right,” Aithinne says. “I hear them just over the hills.” She flashes a smile at Kiaran, catching up to us with a quick urging of her mare. “So you’re not completely unobservant after all, little brother.”
He doesn’t look at her. “Being forty seconds older than me doesn’t give you an excuse to call me little.”
I don’t hear a bloody thing—only groaning, cracking branches. Not even birds or rustling animals. Still, I lightly tug Ossaig’s mane and urge her to follow Kiaran and Aithinne. In our way are trees with thick branches, swaying from the breeze. Past the woods up ahead I can see a clearing. Ossaig races toward it and we explode through the trees. She stops short above a high cliff. Below, the sea batters the rocks in a violent swell. Mist sprays my face and adheres like ice to my skin.
I scan the rocky edge and spot figures in the distance—three of them—with a contingent of fae at their backs. About fifty total. Oh, hell.
We stop and Kiaran says to Aithinne, “It’s been an age since you’ve seen a battle. Do you think you can keep up?”
Aithinne looks smug. “Of course I can keep up. I’m amazing. I always was the better fighter.”
“Better at cheating,” he mutters, watching the Seers hurtling toward us with the army