Elizabeth May Quotes

All things considered, Gavin is taking my miraculous return rather well. When he saw me, all he did was smile and say, "You really intend on stretching the definition of dead until it loses all meaning, don't you?

Gavin finally clears his throat to fill the awkward silence. "Tavish, Lorne. Will you permit me to introduce - "

The large man - Lorne - laughs, and it's a deep rumble in his chest. "Permit me. Well, la-di-da Lord-I-Have-an-Earldom."

"Don't be an arsehole, Lorne," Tavish says. "There's a lady present, for god's sake, man." Then he looks at me. "I'm Tavish - uh, Mr. Gray." He smacks his companion in the stomach, who lets out a hearty oof. "And this impolite son of a bitch is Mr. Candish."

"If you call me Mr. Candish," Lorne says, "I won't bother responding."

"Well," Gavin says, "after that unseemly introduction . . ." He gestures to me. "This is Lady Aileana Kameron." He turns to Kiaran, rather reluctantly. "And you've already seen Kiaran, who is - "

"Leaving," Kiaran interrupts briskly. "My threshold for human tolerance is now exceeded. Send the pixie for me in the event I get to stab something."

With that, Kiaran turns on his heel and strides out of the room. Damn him.

Damnation, Kam." Kiaran jerks me back up when I start to fall forward. I'm not sure I can walk. "You're bleeding all over the place."

My voice comes out in a croak. "I'm not happy about it either.

Amateurs built the ark. Professionals built he Titanic.

I hold a vision of this blue green planet, safe and in balance. At the end of the Fossil Fuel Era, we are emerging to a new reality. We are ready to make the next leap - as momentous as abolishing slavery or giving women the vote.

Are you all right?" I whisper uncertainly.

"Fine." He shakes his head once, and then the tension leaves his body. "I'm fine. Don't finish your sentence yet. It's going to lead to me slaughtering things."

"You like slaughtering things."

"Compared to this? No." He touches me again, his fingers grazing my arm. Tentative, hesitant. When I tell him he's usually the practical one, he replies, "It must be your influence. I'm actually about to make several suggestions, and all of them are impractical."

I smile. "Ooh, several suggestions, is it? My, my. Impractical Kiaran MacKay is . . . dare I say it? Adorable."

Kiaran looks at me in disgust. "I am not."

"You are and you don't even know it. Adorable."

"Adorable is something we call foolish humans right before we kill them."

"Adorable is what we call adult men who love to cuddle and swear on their lives that they don't." Kiaran makes a sound in his throat. "You can growl at me all you want. I know your weaknesses, MacKay. Cuddling. Neck kisses. That ticklish spot just above your - "

I laugh as he grabs me around the waist and pulls me against him. He kisses me fiercely enough to make my toes curl. Then he pulls back with the smug expression of someone who has had thousands of years to perfect seduction and knows exactly how to use it against me.

At that precise moment, Derrick barrels through the ballroom doors, bright as ever. He hovers above my shoulder and lands gracefully on my bare skin.

His wings graze my neck and he hiccups once. 'Glorious lady.' He stretches across my collarbone. 'I have consumed –' hiccup '– wondrous, splendid, beautiful honey. And it was –' hiccup '– magnificent.'

I almost groan aloud.

Rain falls steadily outside and dampens my leg. I shiver at the cold night air and the breeze on my bare arms. I'm about to drop down into the space between the bushes and the wall when a hand closes around my wrist.

It's Gavin, and he looks furious. 'You intend to go out there?' he asks. 'And you can't even see them, can you?'

I try to pull myself from his grip, but he only tightens his hold. 'I never said I could.'

'You implied it.'

'I'm un-implying it now.' I grin. 'I have other means.'

Gavin studies me intently. 'Did you choose this?'

Leaning in close, I press my cheek against his, a touch that goes against every social rule I've ever been taught. It's the excitement of the hunt that courses through me, a savage hum. I'm beyond propriety, beyond etiquette.

'I revel in it.

This is a dream," I say.

He laughs and the sound is so lovely. "It's not a dream."

"I killed you." My chest aches and my voice trembles when I add, "You're dead."

"And you were dead twice," he reminds me. "I think I should have at least two more chances before you refuse to believe it's me.

I'm not a creature of vengeance any more. I'm not just the girl whose gift is chaos. I'm the girl who endured.

Stick by me," Daniel says to Gavin. "Don't do anything bloody stupid, all right? Not like last time."

"You know me, old chap," Gavin says, swinging up onto his horse. Derrick settles on his shoulder with his wings tucked in. "Bloody stupid is only my Plan B.

Derrick flies through the portal first. "Look at you," he says, stopping to study me. "Alive. Unscathed. Good. If you hadn't been, I would have lopped his fingers off."

Kiaran moves to stand beside me. "I would have pulled off your wings."

"Ignore him, pixie." Aithinne strides into the room, her long coat billowing behind her. "I should have figured he'd be sullen and moody."

Kiaran's emotionless gaze flickers to her. "Phiuthair."

"Bhràthair." She stops and studies him. "You look like hell. I suppose you haven't fed in a few days, if the lack of gifts is any indication."

"Don't." Kiaran's voice dips in warning.

"I'm wonderful, by the way," she continues, as if he hadn't spoken. "Do you like my coat? Don't I look lovely? Aren't I the best sister for standing here, still willing to talk to you after you've ignored me for months, you stubborn bastard?"

"Well, this is fun," Derrick says. "I'm really feeling the love in this room. It's beautiful. Aileana, isn't it beautiful?"

"You're here because Kam wanted your help. Not because I did."

"Damn it, MacKay - "

"You might not have wanted me," Aithinne says, ignoring my attempts to stand between them, "but look how quickly I came. Because I still care about you. Though god only knows why, since you're such an obstinate pain in my arse."

"I love it when Aithinne curses at people." Derrick says to me. "I say we let th

Names hold power, Kam," he says. "Don't use that one unless you'd like to see firsthand what it was once capable of.

We'll all be wild together, you and me and the other girls. Just like this. We won't fear anything anymore, will we? We'll burn our path through the trees, wolves and witches and goddesses, and we'll make the world ours.

Aithinne smiles. "You know," she says thoughtfully, "your hair rather looks like an octopus." Then, as if to reassure me: "I love octopi."

And Aithinne is obviously a bit barmy, but nobody's perfect.

If witchcraft is the voice of women rising free and powerful (to change the world, make it ours, on our feet instead of on our knees) then I wish to be a witch more than anything.

Kiaran tosses me his coat. "Here. There's a roll of bread for you in the inner pocket. You need to eat something."

The bread is wrapped in leaves that kept it dry. I gratefully murmur my thanks that Kiaran is so practical. Between the Morrigan's attacks and worrying over the Book, I didn't even notice how famished I was.

Kiaran gathers wood for a fire and I light it with my powers. A small bit of energy I'm willing to risk because I'm so bloody tired and I've never seen Kiaran look this rough, either.

Now you know how I feel, I think wryly as I move to sit near the flames. No invulnerable, shining fae skin. No immediate healing. Just the deep bone-tiredness of mortality.

Kiaran sits opposite, as far from me as possible. The scent of burning wood must mask the scent of my blood, at least a little. His eyes flicker to me in a quick, controlled assessment. "Your wounds need binding."

I can't help but smile. "First the bread, now my wounds. Is this the Kiaran MacKay way of fussing over someone?"

"I don't fuss," Kiaran says. "I give stern instructions, like: Bind your goddamn wounds."

"I don't like overbearing men."

His mouth quirks into a sly smile. "And yet I love assertive, stubborn women."

I laugh in surprise. "God, I adore you.

What does that make me, when a faery is capable of more humanity than I am?

It's all right if you smell bad," Derrick says serenely. "You're still my favorite.

If you have never taken the train across Canada, you really should put it on your life list ... Meanwhile, I get to sit back and watch for moose from the dome car as we roll through the lake-dotted vastness of the boreal forest.

Let me tell you a story," I say instead. "Once upon a time, there was a girl whose life was saved by the faery king - "

"This story sounds distinctly familiar. I think I might have heard it somewhere before."

I shush him and say not to interrupt. "If anyone asked her how she felt about the king, she would have said she loathed him. He ruthlessly trained her to fight his own kind. He taught her to kill. She learned from his lessons how to quiet the rage that burned inside her. But she had already decided that one day, when she had grown strong enough and learned everything she could about battle, she was going to murder him."

Kiaran goes still, his eyes glittering in the darkness. He says nothing.

"Her opportunity came one night when he decided she was ready to hunt her first faery. It was a skriker that had been terrorizing a nearby village, slaughtering children in the night. The king handed the girl his sword and ordered her to kill the goblin-like creature.

"She barely won. But in the end, as she thrust the sword deep into the monster's gut, she felt something so profoundly that she thought it would consume her. So she told the king. She whispered the words and meant them with every part of her rage-filled soul: 'I hate you. I hate all of you.' When she lifted the sword again, she intended to pierce it right through his heart.

"That was the first time the girl had ever seen the faery king smile."

Well," Gavin drawls, "at least now I know what to do if that ever happens. I'll throw a jar of honey and run like hell.

I'm like him. I'm a monster, too.

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.

You should never even ask if a campaign is winnable, because the question is not answerable. No-one can predict the course of the future. Time and time again I have seen completely unforeseeable shifts in the tide of events that result in campaign victory.

There are too many people in this world who would rather see a woman burn than wield power.

I'm so close to crying, I don't think I can stop myself. They're alive. They're alive and nothing else matters. Tears are already starting to burn my eyes, clouding my vision.

Kiaran looks at me with an expression I've never seen on him. It takes me a moment to realize it's dawning horror. "Kam. Kam, don't do that. Don't cry. Don't - "

Then I'm crying and he puts his arms around me in quite possibly the most awkward, stiff embrace I've ever had in my life. And I adore every second of it.

Aithinne speaks from behind us. "I admit to being somewhat unclear on the function of human tears," she says. "So we're sad about this? Should I menace someone?"

In lieu of a response, the only thing I can manage is something of a half-laugh, half-sob, because they're alive and I haven't felt like this in so long.

"For god's sake, Aithinne," Kiaran says, his voice rumbling through his chest, "put the blade away. You're not going to stab Kam's idiot friends." Then, after a moment: "On second thought, the Seer really serves no purpose . . ."

"Oh, shush." I look up at him, whisking the tears off my cheeks. "Don't ruin this. It helps if you don't speak." Then I press my face back into his chest. "And if you stop responding to my hug like I'm torturing you."

Kiaran makes some attempt to relax, but he could use lessons in hugging. He ends up with one hand shoved up in my hair and the other giving my back a there there pat,

She didn't get this pish from you, did she? Because I'm still looking for a reason to lop off one of your appendages after what you did to her, and this looks like the perfect excuse."

"For god's sake," I mutter.

Gavin backs up with his hands raised. "Don't blame me. I might have presented the idea, but she's the one who sauntered off with it."

Derrick narrows his eyes. "Aileana, is that true?"

"Yes," I snap. "Well, not the sauntering. I don't saunter."

"Does . . . this mean I get to keep my appendages?" Gavin asks.

"For now," Derrick says, holding up the needle in a clear threat.

Lobsters," Aithinne says again, just in case I misheard her, and I rather hoped I had. "I hear they're biologically immortal," she explains, "and exempt from greed. And they're funny looking, so I've decided they're my favorite... what do you think of a lobster for a pet?" Aithinne asks suddenly, as if she's thought long and hard about this.

When pundits and strategists claim "attack ads work," they mean it in the most cynical of terms. As Ipsos Reid researcher Andrew Grenville told the Vancouver Sun: "Attacks ads can often work in the short term. They can give you a short boost. But they reduce the number of people who want to vote. They reduce participation in the democratic process. They poison the system.

You died on the island," he says. "We could have gone somewhere else, but there's not much point when it's all falling apart." He gives me a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Any plans before that happens? You could always get blackout drunk with me. We could sing inappropriate songs, dress like pirates, and dance over the entrails of our enemies."

I wrinkle my nose. "Is that something I enjoy?"

"Not yet. But only because you've never tried it. I assure you, it comes highly recommended."

"By whom?"

"By me." He huffs. "Honestly, Aileana, everyone ought to dress up like an inebriated pirate at least once. It's much more fun killing things in costume.

What the hell is wrong with your pixie? - Gavin

She can only sense me on occasion, Derrick said. Not that it's at all difficult to guess Kiaran isn't human, since he's terrible at playing the part. His fae nature is evident in his uncanny beauty, in the way he moves and breathes. He would never look entirely normal, even if he cared to try.

Damnation. I should have sent Dona away instead of listening to Derrick. Rose-scented cleaning solution, indeed.

'You,' Kiaran says to Dona, very softly, 'know exactly what I am, don't you?'

Dona trembles. 'I'm . . . I don't understand.'

'You understand perfectly well,' Kiaran says. 'But maintain that pretence. It might save your life one day.

At the same time, we both remember we have an audience. Kiaran looks rather repelled by the whole exchange, and Aithinne has her head slightly tilted in unabashed interest.

Aithinne says to Kiaran, "That's lovely. Isn't that lovely? You didn't greet me like that when I saved you."

"I was unconscious," Kiaran reminds her.

"Oh. That's right.

I feel. I feel. Strong and untouchable and capable. An exquisite glow of joy fills me up and extinguishes my anger. For this instant, I am whole again. I am not broken or empty. The shadow-self inside me that compels me to kill is silent. I am unburdened. I am complete.

I glare at him. 'As a figment of my imagination, I demand you stop insulting me.' I press my fingernails into the grooves of the bite-marks again and shut my eyes. 'And go away.

At the stomp of boots on grass, I ease my eyes open. Aithinne leans down with a grin. "You didn't die. See? I told you it was easy." She offers me a hand and I take it, rising unsteadily to my feet.

"I've been bitten by some demonic woodland creature. My legs have been shredded by razor-sharp trees. We almost died. Easy? I'm getting you a damn dictionary."

I inspect my bleeding arm. The cut bisects five of the marks Lonnrach made, and I feel inexplicably proud of that. Good. Replace the old, bad memories with new badges. Start over.

"A dictionary," she repeats. "Is that a type of dessert?"

For the love of - "It's a type of book that explains the meaning of words."

"Oh. That sounds terribly dull. I was really hoping for dessert."

I'm hoping to end this rescue with my sanity intact.

He opens one bottle and holds it out to me. 'Drink this one.'

Inside is a milky blue liquid with what looks like thin slivers of glass floating in it. Surely he doesn't mean for me to drink glass. 'Am I going to regret consuming its contents?'

'No. But I imagine you'll still call me every expletive you can possibly think of.' He presses it into my palm.

'I don't like the sound of that.' I sniff the vial and scrunch up my nose at a sharp tang that burns my nostrils. Like something that might come out of my chemistry set. 'Ugh! What's in this? It smells vile.'

'I knew a human girl once. She was stubborn, like you. Refused to drink the paltry contents of that bottle, like you . . .' He pauses for dramatic effect. 'And she died a horrible, painful death – torturous, really – because she wouldn't take my advice.'

I scrutinise him. 'There was no girl who died, was there?'

'There will be if you don't drink what's in that damned bottle.

Why don't you try?"

I pull away, startled. "Me?"

"No, the other redhead wearing a dress big enough to hide a herd of cattle." He reaches for my hand and grasps a finger to pull it back, but I resist. "Come on. This is not the time to be a coward. Don't you want to see what you're capable of?"

"Well, of course I do - "

"Then try." Derrick offers me an encouraging smile. "You just breathe it out like air. It's not difficult." He waves a hand at me. "Now close your eyes."

I arch a brow and sigh. "Really?"

He glares. "If you don't close your eyes I'll change that dress so quickly you'll look like a furry citrus fruit before you can even call me a bastard.

Perhaps he's my curse. Perhaps I'm his weakness. Together we left the world in ruins.

I sip my tea. 'I'm sorry about the rush.'

Smile. Nod. Be polite. Be proper Aileana, because proper Aileana apologises even when she doesn't have to. She's bland and dull and nice. I just have to survive the day without killing anyone.

Miss Forsynth pats my hand. 'Oh, my dear, I do understand. After all, Lord Galloway is quite handsome, isn't he? I can see why the hurry is necessary.' She eyes me knowingly. Good heavens.

I put down my damned teacup before I break it. Derrick snickers at me. 'No wonder you go out for a slaughter every night.

You thought you'd never see me again. You loooove me and you miiiissed me. You--Holy hell. Are those tears? Are you crying?"

"I just have something in my eye."

"You're right. No tears here, either. Definitely the rain. It's really wet out here.

I stand, and Dona slips behind me and immediately sets to work unbuttoning my dress. If she weren't here, I would be tempted to rip the intolerable thing off and toss it across the room.

'Did you say something, my lady?'

'Hmm?' God, did I speak aloud without realising? I rub my eyes. 'I'm just tired.'

'Did you have a splendid time at the assembly?' she asks.

Oh, aye. Killed a faery. My fifth this week.

Just hold back the sea and as many fae as you can. Aithinne and I will do the rest.' He gives me a look.' Just hold back the sea, she says.' With a shake of his head, he takes his position again, deep in concentration.

I make my way to the cave and notice a silhouette at the lip of the cavern. Kiaran. "Let me guess," I say, drawing nearer, "your sister told you where to find me."

His smile isn't visible in the darkness, but I can hear it when he speaks. "On the contrary," he says. "She told me I looked like I needed fresh air. It wasn't until I saw you that I realized she decided to engage in her second-favorite hobby."

"Subterfuge?"

"I was going to say meddling, but you're not wrong.

Kiaran's kiss is fierce, his breathing ragged. 'Have I ever told you the vow a sìthiche makes when he pledges himself to another?' He slides his fingers down my neck and his lips are so soft against mine that I barely feel them. 'Aoram dhuit,' he breathes. 'I will worship thee.

It's so quiet out here, only ocean waves crashing around us. It's these moments when I realise that my time with Kiaran is such a fragile thing. At any moment, my human life could end and he'd still be as unchanging as the sea.

Every woman is never enough; she's always too much. We angered someone, somewhere, for our too muchness.
If to be too much is to be a witch, then I am a witch, and we are all witches. I told this to the other girls, and I heard them all whisper back yes, because to be a witch means our too muchness serves a purpose: it gives us power.

That's what family does: They bring home with them.

I've changed my mind. Stop inadequately playing human," I say. "Drop her hand and step away. Take a very big step.

We have to find the seal before that happens," I tell him. "Reactivate it somehow."
...
"You're the only one who can... Last night you asked me a question. Do you remember what it was?"
"What is a Falconer?" I whisper.

Seers? You mean there are others aside from Gavin and Catherine's husband?"

"Two other featherbrained fools. Together, they have all the sense of a chair leg."

My lips curve into a smile. "Am I really the only human you can stand?"

"You have a certain charm. It's grown on me."

I can't help laughing. "Please, don't strain yourself with flattery.

Sometimes the memories we cling hardest to are the ones that hurt us the most.

A patchwork solution of provincial targets is an admission of defeat and a statement that we have failed our children and grandchildren.

You're back! You're alive!... Such a magnificent murderous glare you have... I love it. Teach me. - Aithinne

But just as the orchestra begins to play, an odd taste sweeps across my tongue from front to back. Like a volatile mixture of sulfur and ammonia, hot and burning as it trickles down the inside of my throat. A vile swear almost escapes my lips. There's a faery here.

I promised Gavin I'd be down a half hour ago." I lean toward him and whisper. "Come get me in fifteen minutes just in case I need to be saved."

"From whom?" Derrick flicks his wings. "Don't tell me you're already fighting with Kiaran after you and he had - "

"For god's sake." I glare at him. "Not Kiaran. Daniel. Or possibly Catherine. I still haven't told her we're leaving yet."

Derrick sputters a laugh. "You haven't . . . ? Oh, I can't wait to see that."

I glare at him. "Fifteen minutes."

"Thirty. I plan to eat everything on the food tables."

"You can eat them in ten. I'll give you twenty-five, just in case you need to go outside and vomit it all up."

He looks satisfied with that. "Deal.

As a figment of my imagination, I demand you stop insulting me. - Aileana

Strengths: Extremely fast flyers; adept with small, sharp weaponry.

(STILL VERY GOOD WITH THE LADIES.)

Weaknesses: Honey, torn ballgowns.

(and closets)

(AND A CERTAIN HUMAN COMPANION BUT NOW I'M GETTING TOO SENTIMENTAL AND THERE'S SOMETHING IN MY EYE.)

Well. Now I have something in my eye, too.

My cheeks are hot when he stalks right up to me, eyes narrowed. Pinched between his bloody fingers is a piece of scrap metal laced with seilgflùr from the blunderbuss - a shot that would have killed any other faery.

"Really?" he says.

"You were traipsing around in a low-visibility field while enemy fae are afoot," I say defensively, hoping he can't tell I'm blushing. "What is wrong with you?"

Aithinne snickers and Kiaran casts her a sharp glance. "It's not funny."

His sister tries to hold back a laugh, but doesn't quite succeed. "I'm sorry," she says. "But you just . . . I've never seen you look like such a complete mess."

Kiaran studies her with a narrowed gaze. "And both of you look like you've gone three rounds with a roving band of feral cats. I'd say we're even."

"Even? Oh, please." Aithinne ticks off each finger. "Thus far the Falconer and I escaped through a forest of spiked trees, fought off the mara, fled from Lonnrach's soldiers, and defeated two mortair. You were shot by accident with some weapon composed of a wooden stick with a barrel on the end - "

"A blunderbuss," I correct helpfully. Kiaran gives me a pointed look that says, Whose side are you on?

" - so I'd say I win this round." She finishes with the sort of arrogant grin that makes it very clear that this must be an ongoing competition.

Sibling rivalry, it seems, is not just for humans.
If Kiaran's glare

One day, you'll tell people the story of the faery king and the human girl. And how he watched from afar as she lived out twenty thousand human days. And if she listened closely during winter, when the wind was cold and the nights were longest, she could hear him whisper that he cherished her so much he was willing to give her the world.

I buckle my sword sheath to my waist and head for the trees. "If you're coming, hurry up."

They glance at each other, but follow. Aithinne matches my stride, looking askance at me. "You don't even know where you're going, do you? You're not walking into a fight, you're running into it at full speed with a blindfold on and your ears lopped off and - "

"Thank you," I say. "That metaphor did not need to be extended

Lady Cassilis's jaw drops. "I beg your pardon?"
"Was I not clear? Get. The hell. Out. Of my home.

We're friends," I say firmly. "You stood up to your maniacal mother - "

"Homicidal," Aithinne interrupts. "Why mince words?"

" - to aid me. I'm returning the favor. You'll just have to let me help you. Such a hardship, I realize.

Must you question everything?"
"Aye," I say. "It delights me to annoy you whenever possible.

Is Stephen Harper using the imagined fear of widespread security threats to score political points before the next election?

It was all battles, fights and court. Humans are far more exciting. You have colourful swearwords and cake-- - Aithinne

We have to do what we have to do. Miracles happen. The life force of this planet is very strong. Dandelions poke through sidewalks. We don't know enough to give up. We only know enough to know that we have to try to change the course of human events.

He loved you so much that when you died, he might as well have died with you.

You know my mother thinks the waltz is indecent."

"Your mother would find the sight of a chair leg indecent.

Perhaps it's a honey-ache. That's the result of eating too much of what isn't yours."

"But your friend offered it. So she might not have explicitly said, 'Derrick, please eat all of the honey in my kitchen,' but it was implied by the mere fact that she has a kitchen.

Is she going to cry? I don't believe I've ever made a faery cry before – except Derrick, and that was only while I was reading him A Christmas Carol and Scrooge stopped being a bastard; Derrick said he had something in his eye.

My ears are bleeding. I have a nasty headache. I'm trapped in a room with a murderous faery and I blame you."

"That's fair.

Perfect." I open the ornithopter door. "We've rendered Dona mostly blind and partially disguised her as an old woman for the sake of a bloody walk in a public park.

I hate this," I mutter.
"Really? I'm having a grand time," Aithinne says brightly.
"That's because you're barmy."
"I believe you just mispronounced 'magnificent'.

There are two exits out of this room. Choose one."
Derrick chuckles. "What a glorious comeuppance.

We burn bright, and we burn out. That's what it means to be human.

You want to know what you mean to me, Kam?' His lips trail down the curve of my neck.'Every day I wonder when your human life will end, and it scares the hell out of me. ' His words are hot on my skin. 'You make me wish I didn't have forever.

I was twelve. You were girls, and therefore an entirely different species.

What did you do?' I whisper to Aithinne. Aithinne pushes to her feet, dusting off her clothes.'I redirected its blast away from us so it used its weapon on itself. ' She scans the destruction.'Easy.' 'Ah, yes,' I murmur, trying to quell the emotions that rush through me at seeing my childhood home destroyed. 'Simple's sibling, Easy. I don't even want to imagine the levels of chaos that would prompt visits from their cousins Straightforward and Uncomplicated.

Most people would be dismayed by an attempted assassination, but Kiaran seems to regard it as either flirtation or flattery – possibly both.

Aithinne wasn't hardened by war; she was humanized by it.

As human rights throughout the world continue to be abused, Raoul Wallenberg stands as a courageous example that should inspire us all,

I admit to being somewhat unclear on the function of human tears," she says. "So we're sad about this? Should I menace someone?

In what way could keeping me in ignorance be construed as protection?' I straighten a piece of wire to add to the fire-starter. 'God spare me from such protection, especially when it involves safeguarding my poor feminine sensibilities from life-saving information.

Well," I say brightly, "we're getting on splendidly, aren't we? Glad to see you're all becoming friends over your mutually violent desires.

Aithinne is the Seelie Queen," I whisper. "Isn't she?... And Kiaran is the Unseelie King.

He's in my heart and I'm in his. And I think it's going to destroy us both.

Kam," Kiaran says, his eyes never leaving Derrick. "Control your pixie." "Control me?" A wee blade is suddenly in Derrick's hand. "I'm going to gut you, you sonofa -