The Falconer by Elizabeth May Extract

8/12/2019 The Falconer by Elizabeth May Extract

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ELIZABETH MAY


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Chapter 1

Edinburgh, Scotland, 1844

Ive memorised heir every accusaion: Mudeess.She did it.She was couched ove he mothes body, coveed in blood.Behind me, several ladies are gahered close, gowns ouching,

heads ben as hey murmur. A common sigh a every ball Ive

atended since coming ou o mourning a ornigh ago. Teir

commens sill sing, no mater how ofen I hear hem.

I heard her aher caugh her jus afer i happened.

I jerk away rom he punch-dispenser. A panel opens on

he gold cylindrical devices side. A meallic arm exends, akes

my porcelain cup rom under he spou and reurns i o he

able.

You can believe her responsible, anoher lady says. Shes

sanding ar enough away ha I only jus cach her words above

he oher discussions in he crowded ballroom. My aher said

she mus have winessed wha happened, bu surely you don

hink

Well, my broher was presen a her debu las year and he

old me she was compleely covered and elbow-deep in . . . Well,

I shan go on. oo gruesome.Te auhoriies insis i was an animal atack. Even he

Marquess o Douglas said so.

He couldn accuse his own daugher, now could he? he


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rs replies. He should have sen her o he asylum. Do you

know she Her voice dips oo low or me o hear he res.

I grip he abric o my dress. I no or he hick silk, my nails

would have biten ino skin. Is all I can do o keep mysel rom

pulling ou he pisol hidden beneah my peticoas.

Youe ne, I ell mysel. Youe not angy. Teye just a bunch

of ninnies not woth being upset ove.

My body doesn lisen. I clench my eeh hard, releasing

my dress o press my humb agains he quickened pulse a mywris. One hundred and weny beas laer, i sill hasn slowed.

Well? a voice nex o me says. Are you going o ake some

punch or glare a he conrapion or he res o he evening?

My riend Miss Caherine Sewar regards me wih a re-

assuring smile. As usual, she looks absoluely beauiul in her

rose-pink silk gown. Her blonde curls all perecly in place

shine rom he overhead lighs as she leans in, plucks a resh cup

rom he able and passes i o me.

My breahing is a bi ragged, audibly so. How uterly annoy-

ing ha is. I hope she doesn noice. Glaring a inanimae

objecs has become my new avourie pasime, I say.

She scruinises me slowly. Oh? I hough you migh be lisen-

ing o he chater a he oher end o he rereshmen able.

Te gaggle o ladies gasp collecively. I wonder wha rans-

gression hey have made up or me his ime oher han he

obvious one, o course.

No, bes no o hink abou i. I I do, I migh resor o

hreas o bodily injury; I migh even pull ou my pisol. And i

I do ha, Ill eaybe pu in he asylum.

I place he cup under he spou and shove he machines bu-

on much harder han necessary. Seam spurs rom he op andpunch pours ou, lling my cup almos o he brim. I remove

he cup and sip.

Dash i all. No even a hin o whisky ye. Surely someone


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has sneaked in a ask o save us all rom he edious chater.

Someone always does.

No wity rejoinder? Caherine asks wih a click o her

ongue. You mus be ill.

I glance a he gossips. Tree young ladies are garbed in near

idenical whie gowns, each decoraed wih various-coloured

ribbons and owered adornmens. I don recognise any o

hem. Te one whispering has dark hair pulled back rom her

ace, a single ringle resing on one shoulder.Her eyes mee mine. She quickly avers her gaze and whis-

pers o her companions, who glance a me or a momen beore

urning away. Jus long enough or me o see he disress in heir

eaures, along wih a ouch o malice.

Jus look a hem, I say. Teyre abou ready o draw blood,

wouldn you say?

Caherine ollows my gaze. I my eyes don deceive me, her

claws have mos cerainly come ou. Did you happen o hear

wha she said?

I exhale a bi louder han necessary and ry o calm mysel.

Teres a place or my rage inside me, a hollow Ive carved o

bury i deep. Ta daily conrol allows me o eign a pleasan

demeanour and an incandescen smile, complee wih orced

bubbly laugher has a ouch vapid, even supid. I can never le

he real me show. I I do, heyll all realise ha Im ar worse a

woman han hey imagine me o be.

Wih all he poise I can muser, I sample more punch. Ta

I am he very picure o grace, I say sarcasically. You know

very well wha she said.

Wonderul. Caherine smoohs he ron o her gown. Im

off o deend your honour. Expec me riumphan upon myreurn.

I sep ino her pah and say blunly, No. Id preer you didn.

During my year in mourning, Ive apparenly orgoten he


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ne ar o he polie insul. Te old Aileana Kameron would

have saunered over o ha group o ladies and said somehing

amiable and uterly cuting. Now, my rs insinc is o reach

or one o he wo weapons I have wih me. Perhaps he solid

weigh o he blade in my hand would be a comoring hing.

Don be silly, Caherine says. Besides, Ive always disliked

Miss Sanley. She dipped my hair in an inkpo once during a

French lesson.

You haven had a French lesson in hree years. Goodness,bu you can hold a grudge.

Four. My opinion o her has no improved wih ime.

She ries o manoeuvre around me, bu Im oo quick. In

my hase, I bump ino he rereshmen able. China cups clink

ogeher and a ew saucers eeer close o he ables edge. Te

group o ladies ake noe and whisper even more.

For heavens sake! Caherine sops. Are you really going o

sand here and drink punch while ha harridan alsely accuses

you o

Catheine.

She glares a me. Say somehing, or I will.

None o hem including Caherine realises ha he

rumour isn inaccurae, only undersaed. Ive commited mur-

der exacly one hundred and fy-eigh imes in welve monhs.

My ally now grows almos every nigh.

And wha would you have me do he nex ime? I ask. Shall

I conron everyone who says he same?

She sniffs. Is ridiculous, old gossip has soon o become

sale. People like Miss Sanley reuse o le he opic die because

heyve nohing else o discuss. No one acually believes he hor-

rid rumour.I shif rom he able hen. Te Hepburns ballroom is

crowded wih groups o people milling abou, enjoying reresh-

mens beore he nex round o dances begin.


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A crysal chandelier hangs in he middle o he room, newly

outed wih elecriciy since he las ime I was here. Floaing

lanerns drif abou jus below he ceiling, each glass casing

decoraed wih is own disinc, ornae design. Teir inner

mechanisms hum as hey hover above he crowd. Shadows

rom he ined glass play along he oral-paterned wallpaper.

As I sudy he groups o people in heir ne dresses and

ailored suis, more han one head swivels in my direcion. Teir

gazes are heavy, judging. I wonder i hose who were here ormy debu will always see me as I was ha nigh he blood-

soaked girl who couldn speak or cry or scream.

I brough misorune ino heir idy, ordered lives, and he

mysery o my mohers deah has never been solved. Afer

all, wha sor o animal slays as mehodically as he one ha

killed her? Wha daugher sis nex o her mohers corpse and

doesn shed a single ear?

Ive never spoken a word o anyone abou wha happened

ha nigh. Never displayed any ouward signs o grie, no even

a my mohers uneral. I simply didn respond he way a guil-

less girl should have.

Come now, I murmur. Youve always been a errible liar.

Caherine scowls in he direcion o Miss Sanley. Teyre

jus being haeul because hey don know you.

She sounds so sure o me, cerain ha Im innocen and

good. Caherine did know me, once. Te way I used o be. Now

here is a sole individual alive who ruly undersands me, who

has seen he desrucive par o me ha I conceal because he

is he one who helped creae i.

Even your moher suspecs me o some involvemen and

shes known me since I was a bairn.Caherine smirks a me. You do litle o improve her

opinion o you, wha wih you disappearing a every assembly

she escors us o.


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I have headaches, I say.

A good lie he rs ime, bu suspicious by he sevenh.

Perhaps ry a differen affl icion nex ime?

She ses down her empy cup. Immediaely, he dispensers

arm picks i up and places i on he conveyer ha reurns diry

dishes o he kichen.

Im no lying, I insis. Te headache orming a my emples

righ now was caused by Miss Sanley.

Caherine rolls her eyes.Te orchesra a he back o he room srikes a ew pracice

chords on heir ddles. Te srahspey is abou o begin, and

he dance card ha hangs rom my wris is surprisingly ull.

Arisocras are nohing i no hypocriical. Tey have invened

a crime and condemned me or i, ye he business o our ac-

quainance coninues uninerruped. My dowry is a draw many

genlemen won ignore.

Te resul: no an empy spo or a dance, and hours o inane

conversaion. A leas I enjoy he dancing.

Your Lord Hamilon is leaving his companions, Caherine

observes.

Lord Hamilon manoeuvres around a group o ladies near

he rereshmen ables. A shor, sou man abou weny years

my senior, Lord Hamilon has a receding hairline and a pen-

chan or cravas o unusual design. He also has an unorunae

habi o pating my wris which I suppose is mean o comor

me, bu makes me eel all o welve years old.

Hes no myLord Hamilon, I say. Good heavens, hes old

enough o be my aher. I lean in and whisper, And i he pas

my wris again, I shall surely scream.

Caherine les ou an unladylike snor. Youre he one whoagreed o dance wih him.

I cas her a wihering glance. Im no a complee boor. I

won urn down a dance unless someone else has claimed i.


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Lord Hamilon sops beore us. odays crava has mauve,

green and blue dye splashed in a srange patern on he silk. Ever

he genleman, he smiles poliely.

Good evening, Lady Aileana, he says, hen nods a Caherine.

Miss Sewar, I rus youre well.

I am indeed, Lord Hamilon, she says. And may I say, ha

is quie a . . .stikingcrava.

Lord Hamilon peers down a i ondly, as hough someone

has complimened his greaes achievemen. Why, hank you.Te dyes orm he ouline o a unicorn. Par o he Hamilon

cres, you see.

I blink. I anyhing, i resembles a sea creaure o some kind.

Caherine, however, simply nods. How wonderul. I suis

you very well, I hink.

I remain silen. Im so erribly ou o pracice wih social

niceies ha I migh acually ell him he mauve splashes look

like enacles.

Te orchesra srikes a ew more chords as couples move o

he cenre o he room and ake heir places or he dance.

Lord Hamilon exends his gloved hand. May I have he

pleasure?

I place my ngers in his palm, and hell and blas he pas

my wris. I disincly hear Caherines sied giggle as she is led

off by her own suior. I glower a her over my shoulder as Lord

Hamilon and I walk o he dance line. He deposis me a he

end and sands across rom me.

Bu jus as he orchesra begins o play, an odd ase sweeps

across my ongue rom ron o back. Like a volaile mixure o

sulphur and ammonia, ho and burning as i rickles down he

inside o my hroa.A vile swearword almos escapes my lips. Teres a aery here.


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Chapter 2

Iclose my eyes and ry o swallow he aerys power. Techemical ang in my mouh is so sharp ha I wan o casmy accouns over he ballroom oor. Heaving once, I lose my

ooing and pich orwards.

Oo ! I careen ino he lady neares me. Te wide skirs o

our dresses collide and we almos opple ono he marble iles.

Jus in ime, I grip her shoulders o seady mysel.

My apologies, I say, my voice hoarse.

I look up a he woman hen. Miss Fairax. She regards me

wih well-conrolled mild disase. My eyes dar o he oher

dancers. Many couples in he srahspey crane heir heads o see

he commoion. Tough he jauny music plays on, everyone

eveyone is saring a me.

Some o hem whisper, and I cach heir accusaions again.

Or I hink I do.Mudeess. She went mad. Te machionesss death

was

I pull mysel away rom Miss Fairax. I akes every ounce

o effor o amp down he memories ha hreaen o surace,

o say where I am and no run. I know wha Faher would say.He would ell me ha I am he daugher o a marquess, and I

am responsible or represening he amily name a all imes.

So sorry, Miss Fairax. Los he coun, I say.


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Miss Fairax merely sraighens her skirs, pas her mussed

brunete hair and lifs her chin as she rejoins he dance.

Lady Aileana? Lord Hamilon says. He appears quie con-

cerned. Are you all righ?

I orce a smile and speak wihou hinking. Im erribly sorry

I mus have ripped.

Oh, dash i all. I feel faint, I should have said. Ta would

have been he perec excuse o ge up and leave. How could I

be so supid?oo lae now. Lord Hamilon simply smiles, grips my hand

and guides me back o he line. I avoid he prying gazes o my

peers and swallow down he las remnans o power on my

ongue.

I have o nd he blased creaure beore i lures is vicim.

My insincs ell me o leave he dance, nd he aery and

slaugher i. I spare a glance owards he exi. Dash my repua-

ion and he idioic noion ha a genlewoman shouldn cross

a ballroom or leave i unescored.

I eel he dark par inside o me sir and rise, desperae o do

only hree hings: hun, muilae, kill.

Oh, I wan o, more han anyhing. Te aery is nearby,

jus ouside he ballroom. I sep ou o he srahspey and head

owards he door. Lord Hamilon inerceps me and asks a

quesion. I can hear i over he pounding need, my murderous

houghs.

Responsibility, I remind mysel.Family. Honou.Damnaion.

I reply o Lord Hamilons quesion wih a simple, O course.

He smiles again. I eel sorry or him, or all o hem. Tey

hink Im he only monser in heir mids, bu he real danger

is he one hey can even see. Faeries selec heir vicims andcompel hem wih a small push o menal inuence, hen eed

rom hem and kill hem.

Five minues. Tas all I need o nd he creaure and shoo


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a capsule ino is esh. Only a litle ime unobserved o

I grip Lord Hamilons hand hard. Ive been ou o sociey

so long, and he hun has become second naure. I have o hush

my barbaric houghs or Ill ac oo soon and lose mysel. My

eiquete lessons repea in my mind. Te daughte of a maquess

does not chage out of a baoom. Te daughte of a maquess does

not abandon he patne in the middle of a dance.

Te daugher o a marquess does no hun aeries.

don you agree? Lord Hamilon is asking, pulling meback ino he dance.

I shake mysel. O course. I acually manage o sound re-

assuring.

Lord Hamilon pas my wris and I gri my eeh agains a

violen response as we circle anoher couple.

Te srahspey seems o go on or ever. Lef oo hop, righ

oo back, lef oo ino second posiion. Insep, hird posiion.

Righ knee ben, second posiion. Over and over again. Te

music doesn regiser any more; i has become a background o

screeching srings, and he dance is only halway over.

My hand brushes he side o my blue silk dress, righ over

he spo where my lighning pisol is hidden. I envision mysel

huning in he corridors, aking aim

Calm, I ell mysel. I sudy he ne deails o he room again,

he mosaic lanerns ha coninue o oa over our heads. Above

hem are he clicking brass cogs and wiring along he edge o he

ceiling, all o i conneced o New owns elecriciy sysem.

I ocus on he clicks, on menally reciing my lessons. Pro-

priey. Click.Grace. Click. Smile. Click. Kill. Click.

Hell and blas.

Te ddles screech on. Lord Hamilon says somehing elseand I manage o smile and give a non-commital nod.

I ry again. Polieness. Click.Modesy. Click.Civiliy

A las he music sops, and I urn o Lord Hamilon. He


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offers his arm wihou commen and leads me o he perimeer

o he ballroom. I eye he door again.

I say, Lord Hamilon murmurs, where is Miss Sewar? I

shouldn leave you alone.

Tank heavens Caherine is nowhere o be seen. She is one

less person I have o excuse mysel rom.

Youre orgiven, I say in ha charming voice I hae. I I

migh beg your pardon, I mus ake my leave o he ladies par-

lour or a ew minues. I ouch my emple lighly. A headache,Im araid.

Lord Hamilon rowns. ch, how dreadul. Do allow me o

escor you.

Once we reach he double doors ha exi ino he hallway,

I sop and smile. Teres no need or you o leave he ballroom,

my lord. I can nd he parlour on my own.

Are you cerain?

I almos snap a him, bu orce mysel o breahe deeply and

regain some composure. My desire o hun is pounding, un-

relening. I i consumes me, polieness won deer me. Ill wan

nohing bu blood and vengeance and release.

I swallow. Indeed.

Lord Hamilon doesn appear o noice a change in my

behaviour. He simply smiles, bows rom he wais and pas my

wris again. Tank you or he pleasure o your company.

He urns o leave and I sep ino he hallway, breahing a

sigh o relie.At last.

As I ipoe down he corridor, away rom he ballroom and

he ladies parlour, my mouh ingles when he aery power re-

urns. My body is growing more used o he ase afer is iniial

violen response, and I recognise he paricular breed i comesrom. A revenan.

I have only ever killed our revenans, bu never on my own,

so I haven ye grown as accusomed o he poen ase o heir


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power as I have o ha o he oher breeds o ae I kill more

ofen. In my limied experience, hey have hree vulnerabiliies:

an opening along he horacic cage, jus over he lef pecoral;

an abdominal caviy wih a sligh sof spo in oherwise impene-

rable skin; and raher sub-par inelligence.

Revenans make up or heir weaknesses wih solid muscle,

which makes hem diffi cul o kill. Ten again, I do love a chal-

lenge.

I reach ino he small pocke sewn ino he olds o my ballgown and pull ou a hin, plaied srand o seilg. A rare sof

hisle nearly exinc in Scoland,seilggives me he abiliy o

see aeries.

Te hisle was almos enirely desroyed by aeries hou-

sands o years ago o preven humans rom learning he ruh

ha he plan is a aerys only rue weakness. Oh, hey all have

some spos on heir bodies ha can be puncured by an ordinary

weapon, bu ha would sill only injure one o hem. Seilg,

hough, is deadly enough o burn heir ae skin and even inic

a moral wound. I use i in he weapons I make o hun hem.

I ie he seilg around my neck and sar orward again.

My muscles are ready, relaxed, honed rom welve monhs o

gruelling raining wih Kiaran. My echniques have improved

during he nighs when I have slaughered aeries wihou his

help. Kiaran claims Im no ready o hun on my own. I have

proven him wrong a dozen imes. O course, he doesn know

Ive been disobeying his direc order no o hun alone, bu I

have a disinc endency o disobey him when he opporuniy

arises.

Te ase o he aerys power leaves anoher srong pulse

agains my ongue. I mus be somewhere around he nexcorner. I sop abruply. Brillian, I muter.

Te corridor leads o he bedrooms. I Im caugh inside, here

would be no prevening he ensuing scandal. My repuaion is


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inac only because he rumours abou me haven been proven.

Being caugh nosing around he Hepburns privae quarers

would be a real issue my already quesionable repuaion can

afford.

I shif on my ee. Perhaps i Im very quick

Aileana!

I whirl. Oh . . . he.

Caherine and her moher, he Viscouness o Cassilis, sand

in he corridor behind me by he double doors leading ino heballroom. As hey approach, Caherine sares a me wih sur-

prise and conusion, and her moher well, she regards me wih

blaan suspicion.

Aileana, Caherine says again when hey reach me. Wha

are you doing over here?

Boh women share he same shining blonde hair and wide

blue eyes, hough Lady Cassiliss gaze is shrewd raher han in-

nocen. She has he keenes abiliy o noice even he smalles

inracion in propriey. Nay, even he meres hin o disgrace.

Dash i all. Tis is bad, being caugh heading in he direcion

o he Hepburns privae wing. Tis isn where a respecable

woman would be. Or, a leas, she wouldn ge caugh here.

Tas he imporan bi.

Caching my breah, I say hurriedly, breahing hard or

emphasis. Lord Hamilon is very quick on his ee, you know.

Caherine looks erribly amused. Oh? Well, or a man o his

age, I suppose.

So, I say, narrowing my eyes a Caherine, Im here o relax

a momen. Tas all.

My dea, Lady Cassilis says wih heavy emphasis, you

should relax in he ballroom, which is thisway. She inclines herhead owards he doors down he hall.

Te aery power leaves a disracing pulse agains my ongue

i mus be exending is powers again o draw someone in.


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My body enses in response. Oh, aye, I say. My voice sounds

srained. Bu

Yes, he viscouness correcs. Aye sounds so teriblyun-

sophisicaed.

Lady Cassilis is among he small bu growing number o

Scotish arisocracy who believe ha i we speak like he English,

Scoland will be considered a more civilised naion. Is a load o

rubbish, i you ask me. Were perecly urbane as we are. Bu

Id raher no debae he mater in a hallway while heres abloodhirsy aery on he loose.

Aye, o course. I mean, yes, I respond. Heavens, isn here

any way o graceully exricae mysel rom his conversaion?

Moher. Caherine insers hersel beween us. Im cerain

Aileana has a reasonable explanaion or . . . loiering here. She

urns o me. I hough you promised his dance o Lord Carrick.

I have a headache, I say, rying o sound as innocen as pos-

sible. I was searching or he ladies parlour o res.

Caherine raises an eyebrow. I reurn i wih a glare.

Well, do le me come wih you, Caherine says.

Ah, he ever-persisen headache, Lady Cassilis says. I you

inend o nurse i in he ladies parlour, youll nd ha a he

otheend o he corridor.

Te viscouness narrows her gaze a me. I have no illusions

ha i she had proo o my ill behaviour, Caherine would have

been barred rom spending ime wih me long ago. Lady Cassilis

migh be my escor o ormal uncions, bu only because

Caherine asked her o, since he viscouness and my moher

were riends. I can imagine wha on earh hey had in common.

Regardless, Lady Cassilis says, a lady ough never o leave a

ballroom unescored. As you well know, Aileana. Need I remindyou ha his is ye anoher breach in eiquete, being alone in an

empy corridor? She sniffs. I ear your moher would be quie

aggrieved, were she sill wih us.


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Caherine sucks in a sharp breah. I clench my ss and gasp.

Grie rises briey inside me, quickly replaced by rage and he

overwhelming desire or vengeance. For jus one kill o bury

he painul memory o my mohers deah once more. Even my

careul conrol has is limis I mus nd ha aery beore my

need consumes me.

Moher, Caherine says deliberaely, i you could wai

or me in he ballroom, I shall be here direcly. When Lady

Cassilis opens her mouh o proes, Caherine adds, I won belong. Jus le me see Aileana saely o he parlour.

Te viscouness sudies me briey, lifs her chin a noch and

srides o he ballroom.

Caherine sighs. She didn mean ha.

She did.

Aileana, whaever youre planning be quick, or I may be

unable o visi or elevenhours on Wednesday. Moher

I know. She hinks Im a bad inuence.

She winces. Perhaps no he bes.

I smile. I appreciae you lying or me.

I never lie. I merely embellish inormaion i he siuaion

calls or i. For example, I inend o ell Moher ha his head-

acheo yours is severe enough ha you may miss a ew dances.

How very acul o you. I pass Caherine my reicule.

Would you hold ono his or me?

Caherine sares a i. I do believe he ladies parlour allows

reicules.

Aye, bu carrying he reicule migh make my headache

worse. I press he purse ino her palm.

Hmm. You know, someday, Im going o ask quesions. You

migh even answer hem.Someday, I agree, graeul or her rus.

She ashes a smile and says, Very well. Go off on your mys-

erious advenure. Bu a leas hink o our luncheon. Your cook


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is he only one who knows how o make proper shorbread.

Is ha really he only reason you visi? Te blased shor-

bread?

Te company is also quie agreeable . . . when she isn having

headaches.

She depars wih an unladylike wink and sauners hrough

he double doors ino he ballroom.

Freed a las, I advance down he corridor again. My skir

rusles, is deep ounces uffed by hree siff peticoas. SinceI began raining a year ago, Ive become keenly aware o how

limiing a ladys wardrobe is. Te adornmens are all beauiul

and absoluely useless in batle.

As I round he corner, he aery power reurns in orce. I le

he burning ang wash over my ongue; I hrive on he anicipa-

ion. Tis is one o my avourie pars o he hun, second only

o he kill isel. I imagine mysel shooing i again, eeling he

calm release a is deah . . .

Ten, all a once, he ase ears ou o my hroa so as, I

bend over and gag.

Damnaion, I whisper. Te abrasive absence o is power

means he revenan has ound is vicim and is drawing in

human energy.

Wih anoher mutered oah, I gaher my bulky skirs and

peticoas, slip he sole off my shoulders o ie around my wais

propriey be damned and bol up he sairs. I glance abou

in dismay when I reach he op. So many doors. Now ha he

power has gone, I have no way o ell which room he aery is in.

I walk quickly down he hallway. Te corridor is quie. oo

quie. Im painully aware o every swish he abric o my dress

makes, every oorboard creak beneah my sain slippers.I press my ear o he neares door. Nohing. I open i o be

cerain, bu he room is empy. I ry anoher door. Sill nohing.

As I palm he nex handle, I hear a low gasp. Te kind o


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breah someone akes wih only scan momens o lie remaining.

I consider my opions careully. I have bu a single chance o

save he revenans vicim. I I charge in, he aery migh kill he

person beore I shoo.

Quiely pushing my peticoas aside, I draw he lighning

pisol rom my high holser. I grip he handle o he weapon as

I nudge he door open o peek inside.

Nex o he our-poser bed in he corner o he room, he re-

venans behemoh orm is ben over is vicim. A nearly sevenee all, he muscled aery resembles a roting roll. Sringy,

limp dark hair hangs in paches around is scalp. Te creaures

skin is he pallid shade o dead esh, speckled wih decay in

some places and peeling off in ohers. One cheek is open and

gaping, exposing a jawbone and row o eeh. Faeries can heal

mos injuries in less han a minue, bu his is he naural sae

o revenans. Tey are uterly disgusing and corpselike.

Te aerys ngerips are sunk deep ino he ches o a genle-

man I immediaely recognise as he elderly Lord Hepburn. His

waiscoa is soaked hrough wih blood, and his skin has a bluish

cas.

When a aery eeds rom a humans energy, hey are boh

enveloped an asonishing whie ligh. Lord Hepburn isn ha

ar gone ye, bu almos.

I hold my breah and ease up he lighning pisol unil he

sigh is level wih he revenans pecoral, jus over is horacic

opening. My grip ighens, my humb racing he ornae carv-

ings on he handle o he pisol in a sof caress.

Move, I hink o he revenan. Just a bit, so I dont injue my

gacious host.

Te aery doesn move and I don have a clean sho. imeo inervene.

I lower he pisol and sep ino he room, shuting he door

behind me wih a loud click.


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Te revenans head snaps up. I bares wo rows o long

poined eeh and gives a low, rumbling growl ha makes he

ne hairs on my arms sand sraigh up.

I smile sweely. Hello here.

I deec some small movemen rom Lord Hepburn and I

relax slighly. Sill alive, hank goodness. Te revenans black

gaze racks me as I move o sand near he velve setee, bu i

says where i is, sill greedily drinking he poor mans energy.

I need o orce is atenion o me again. Drop him, youghasly hing. Te beas hisses and I sep orward. I said drop

him.Now.

My grip on he pisol ighens again as he creaure releases

Lord Hepburn and rises o is ull heigh. Now ha he aery

has sopped eeding, he ammonia and sulphur avour is back,

scorching. Te creaure owers over me, muscled and dripping

wih some repulsive clear subsance I would raher no inspec

closely.

Im lled wih a amiliar rush o exciemen as he aery

snarls again. My hear pumps aser. My blood rushes and my

cheeks burn.

Aye, has i, I whisper. ake me insead.

Te aery leaps orward.

Documents

The Falconer by Elizabeth May Extract