The Vanishing Throne Read Online Free PDF Page A

these . . . these aren’t badges. They aren’t marks of victory.
    They’re reminders of how I lost everything.
    Today, Lonnrach sifts through the longer streams of my memory. He lingers on those before my mother’s death, those he should find unimportant. I wonder if he realizes that I’ve noticed the way he slows down the hours I spent building with her, or the days I took tea with my friend Catherine. Inconsequential memories of simple pleasures before I had ever felt the mark of grief.
    As if embarrassed, Lonnrach pulls forward in time. I watch a stream of images go by before he settles on the memory of Kiaran and me in the Queen’s Park. Though it was the night of the battle, it seems so long ago now. Kiaran had resolved to take his sister’s place if we managed to trap the fae once more. I thought I would never see him again.
    At one time I would have resisted Lonnrach’s intrusion on these memories, but now I eagerly go along with it. I amdesperate to feel again, for the spectrum of emotions my memories bring. They remind me of who I was, and that I’m still human.
    Just for a little while , I think. So I have something to hold on to .
    I sense Lonnrach’s surprise when Kiaran and I kiss, when Kiaran grabs my coat to pull me closer. This is one of my few memories that remains whole, complete. That kiss is imprinted in my mind: the press of Kiaran’s lips, his fingers against my skin. I know that kiss by heart.
    In my memory, I pull away. “ Leave .” I can hear the desperation in my voice. “ You still have time. Save yourself —”
    Another kiss, as if Kiaran’s telling me this is goodbye. As if he’s memorizing my lips, too. “ Have I ever told you the vow a sìthiche makes when he pledges himself to another? Aoram dhuit . I will worship thee .”
    Lonnrach pulls out of the memory so quickly that I sway on my feet. We’re back in the hall of mirrors and he’s already wiping his lips with the white kerchief he brought. Always a different one. My blood stains them all.
    My legs won’t hold me. I sink to the ivy floor as Lonnrach turns away, wordlessly striding toward the nearest mirror.
    â€œWait.” I’m surprised by my voice. It seems like an eternity since I’ve spoken. I sound raspy, my throat dry from disuse.
    Lonnrach stops. He doesn’t even turn. “Is there something you need?”
    It’s been so long since I’ve heard his voice, too. He has no need to taunt me anymore, to break me with his words. I’veaccepted his food and drink. He has taken my blood. He’s stolen my memories. What else is there to say?
    And yet . . . that memory made me feel longing again. Passion. Grief. Once I’m alone, that will all go away and I’ll go back to pressing my fingers against his bloody teeth marks, hoping to conjure it all up again.
    â€œI only want to talk.” I swallow once. Good god, I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’d kill him if I could . “That’s all.”
    This time, Lonnrach turns and looks at me. The weight of his gaze is heavy, assessing. “Why?”
    Because I don’t want to be alone anymore. Because I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve been here. Because I don’t have anyone left. Because we’ve shared more than a year of my memories. Because you’ve left two thousand two hundred and fourteen individual teeth marks on my skin that will never, ever let me forget that everything I’ve lost is my fault .
    I bite my tongue so none of those words spill out. Maybe one day I’ll become hopeless and desperate enough to utter them. Maybe. But not yet. “Because you’ve seen my memories and yet you’ve said little about yourself at all.”
    â€œYour memories serve a purpose.” He takes another step, raises his hand to the mirror. “Mine don’t.”
    I try