by E. A. Copen
Chapter Thirty-One
The thing about zombies is they’re relentless. They’re not fast, not smart, and most certainly not expert swordsmen, especially being undead. Without blood pumping to their muscles, they got a little stiff after a while.
Apparently, William’s zombie didn’t get the message. He moved like a living thing, charging me at full speed. I ducked the initial swipe of the sword and stepped to the side, drawing him away from Remy.
“Get out of here!” I shouted to Remy.
She gripped the sword in Foxglove’s chest and pulled it out before retreating to the dais.
The zombie knight brought the sword down to cleave my head in two. I lifted the staff and caught it before kicking him. I thought I had the upper hand.
Until someone stabbed me in the leg from behind.
I went down, grabbing for my injured leg and just barely managed to roll out of the way of zombie William’s sword. Apparently, my fetch had found a sword too and decided he should join the fun. It was a two-on-one fight and I didn’t stand a chance, not even with the iron staff.
Good thing I had friends of my own.
An arrow grazed the zombie’s cheek. It turned its head with a scowl toward Declan as he nocked another arrow, only to be blindsided by Athdar’s fist. The zombie flew across the room and crashed into a screaming crowd.
Bizarro Laz closed on me and swung the sword wildly. I blocked with the staff, but the sword just glanced off to the side and stabbed me in the shoulder. I grimaced and twisted away from the blade. It left a burning trail of pain in the form of a deep cut. He raised the sword again but suddenly had to duck out of the way of a column of Roshan’s flame. The fire came a little too close and I had to jump back to avoid being burned to a crisp myself.
Off to the side, Athdar smashed a fist into the zombie’s skull, but it didn’t go down. It drove its blade into Athdar’s side until green blood spurted from the wound. Declan threw Athdar an axe. The huge tree-like dryad caught the axe and chopped into the zombie’s back.
Roshan spat more fire, but stopped abruptly when my fetch slammed the pommel of his sword into his temple. I jabbed my iron staff into the back of the fetch’s neck. He cursed and turned around, giving me a better target: his big, ugly nose. I swung the staff like a bat into it. “Fore!”
His nose cracked and spouted blood, the momentum sending him spinning to the floor.
Something crashed behind me. I turned to see Declan trip over the weapons rack in his attempts to get away from the zombie. Athdar lay, dazed and bleeding on the ground with the axe in his arm. Declan glanced around in a panic and settled on the bow he had discarded earlier. He snatched it up, fitted an arrow, closed his eyes and let loose. The arrow hit the zombie dead in the eye and it toppled over, finally dead for good this time.
The momentary distraction cost me. My fetch found his feet and lifted the sword over his head to charge at me.
On instinct, I jabbed my staff forward and hit him square in the chest, pushing him back. The sword grazed my hand. I drew the staff back and swung it at his head with all my strength before he could recover. It struck him just above his ear with a hollow thump and he crumpled. “That’s for hitting my little girl!”
I closed on him, standing over him while he groaned. His whole face was covered in blood and dark burns, but this wasn’t over. This couldn’t be over until he was dead. I raised the staff. “And this is for hitting Emma.” I brought the staff down against his head with a wet thud. Bone cracked. “This is for taking my daughter. And this is for giving her to Titania. And this one... This last one is for me.”
“Wait!” he slurred and lifted a bloody hand. “If you kill me, you’re no better than I am. You’re just as bad.”
“You must’ve missed the memo, asshole. I’m not one of the good guys. My name is Death, and nobody gets to hurt my kid.” I brought the staff down on his head with another wet crunch, and another, and another until there was nothing left but chunks of bone and meat.
“Archers!” Titania’s voice boomed.
I looked up from the mess on the floor that had been my fetch.
She lifted her fingers to snap. Then suddenly gasped, her eyes going wide. She looked down at her chest where the blade of a sword erupted. A red circle of blood quickly expanded around it to stain her dress. Titania’s face twisted in disbelief. Her mouth twitched, and her hands went to the blade, closing around it briefly before she fell over, revealing Remy behind her.
Remy’s gaze met mine. We stared at each other, not father and daughter in that moment, but one killer recognizing another. For the first time, I saw her, who she really was and what she was capable of. It was like looking into a mirror.
It scared the hell out of me.
Noelle jumped to her feet. “Long live Queen Remy. Long may she reign.”
“Long may she reign!” answered the crowd in unison.
The iron staff dropped from my fingers and clattered to the floor. I tried to take a step toward Remy, but my leg reminded me my fetch had sliced it open. My leg buckled and I went to the floor.
Remy stepped over Titania’s body and went to Foxglove again, kneeling.
“Remy,” I managed, my voice raw, “I’m sorry. He fought well.”
“His fight’s not over.” She tugged the glove off her right hand. “I’m sorry, Ethan. You deserve to rest, but I still need you.”
Remy unstrapped his breastplate and pushed it aside. Carefully, she slipped her hand down his collar to rest against his chest. A golden glow emanated from Foxglove’s body, slowly brightening, turning him into a small sun. Warmth filled the room, radiating from whatever magic she was doing. Not the harsh, burning heat of fire, but the gentle warmth of the summer sun.
I covered my face against the light and turned away, unable to keep watching until the light dimmed.
Foxglove suddenly gasped, his eyes snapping open. He shot up to sit, drawing in panicked, shaky breaths. The Knight glanced around, confused, until he saw Remy sitting next to him. “Princess... You...” He rubbed his chest. “No! You shouldn’t have. You don’t know the cost!”
She offered a weak smile. “Whatever the cost, I paid it gladly to have you back.”
“Not to interrupt the happy reunion,” I huffed, holding myself up by the strength of will alone, “but Loki still has someone I care about as a hostage. I need to get to her. There might still be time.”
Foxglove twisted to look at me. “You don’t look like you’re in any shape to fight.”
I snorted. “Says the guy who just came back from the dead. That’s normally my trick.”
Foxglove had said he’d seen Remy drain life from one living thing to revive another, which meant to bring him back, she had to have taken the life from somewhere. We’d have to discuss that later. A power like that couldn’t be used on a whim. She’d killed someone to bring him back. Question was, who and where?
But that answer could wait until after I’d done everything I could to help Emma.
“You still have my sword, Lazarus.” Foxglove grunted and pulled himself to his feet. Remy rose and helped steady him. “If we can free Ms. Emma Knight, then we will.”
Declan came to my side and wrapped a bandage around my leg. “I’m coming too. If it pleases Your Majesty.” He glanced up at Remy and then past her to the redhead in green. It finally clicked that she must be the handmaiden Declan was so in love with.
I put a hand on Declan’s shoulder. “Loki and his Valkyries are no pushovers. He’s also got at least one other Horseman with him. This is going to be a tough fight. You don’t have to come.”
“Is it true that Loki wants to kick off a war between the gods?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Well then, I have to help stop him. A god war won’t do anyone any good.”
“Issue a call to arms,” Remy said loudly. “Any and every soldier willing to fight is to rally at once. Tell them their queen’s father and our new ally needs their support.”
Noelle cleared her throat, drawing all eyes to her. “I cannot promise you an army, but you have my sword and my guards to assist you. It’s the least I can do.”
Declan helped me to my feet. I didn’t know what to say. A few hours ago, I’d been alone and expecting to die. Now I had the makings of an army at my back, ready to help me storm Loki’s party. With two Faerie queens, a knight and dozens of soldiers, maybe we could do this. We could stop Loki before he got his war after all.
“There’s just one more thing I need,” I told Remy. “Your guards took something from me when they put me in the dungeon, a small potion.”
She nodded and turned to Jessica who lifted the potion from a string tied around her neck and handed it to Remy. My daughter held the small glass vial out to me.
I took it. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Remy smiled at Foxglove. “I can think of no one else I would rather fight beside, and for no more noble a cause.”
“Good enough for me.” I pulled out the stopper and tipped the potion into my mouth.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Zacar!”
The air exploded with a whoosh and spun, stretching space into a sort of spinning wormhole before me. Thunder quaked through my mind and left me staggering and weak. I stayed upright after uttering the word only because Foxglove and Declan pushed me up when I tipped back.
It looked like the spell had worked, though I hoped it opened in the right place. I had asked Josiah how to make sure it went where I wanted it to, and his answer was vague at best. I had to trust that I understood what he’d taught me and let the magic do the rest. I just hoped I didn’t accidentally open a portal to the bottom of an active volcano or something. That seemed just like my luck.
With my iron staff in hand, I took a deep breath and stepped through the portal.
I stepped through into some sort of dance venue with stairs that led to a balcony area where Loki sat in a throne surrounded by his Valkyries. Beth stood to one side, sunken eyes settling on me as I came through. Valkyries lined the stairs. They lowered their spears at the sight of us. I didn’t spot Emma anywhere.
The dance floor was a mess with bits of discarded paper and crumpled plastic cups lying everywhere. A lone janitor stopped pushing his broom through the mess to stare at us.
I glanced at a big clock on the wall. Days, maybe even weeks must’ve passed in Faerie while Foxglove and I were prisoners, but the clock here said only a few hours had passed. It was just after three in the morning, three hours after the deadline my fetch had told me about. Maybe he was wrong.
“Beat it,” I growled at the janitor.
He happily dropped the broom and ran for the exit.
Loki pushed himself up out of his throne. “Ah, the Pale Horseman. Afraid you’ve missed the party. A pity. It was to die for.”
I gritted my teeth and marched away from the portal to stand in the center of the room. “Where is she?”
Loki passed the goblet in his hand off to someone else. “She’s safe for now. As long as you keep your end of the bargain and kill two more gods on my list, she’ll stay alive.”
“New deal,” I shouted. “Hand her over, unharmed, and I don’t kill you.”
He smirked. “Kill me? You have to get to me first.”
“Oh, I’m coming for you.”
“You and what army?”
Remy and Noelle came through the portal followed by Declan, Foxglove, and the rest.
“This army, asshole,” I said.
Loki’s smile faded. He took a step back from the balcony.
Noelle raised her sword with a shout and led the charge to the left while one of the Valkyries on the right rushed toward Foxglove. Declan raised his bow and fired a shot straight at Loki. Beth’s hand shot out and closed around the arrow stopping it from hitting its mark. She lowered the arrow and snapped it in half before vaulting over the balcony. Declan nocked another arrow.
I put a hand on his shoulder. “She’s mine, kid.”
He nodded and snapped his bow to a new target.
“I see you got my gift,” Beth said, planting her black staff firmly on the floor.
I looked down at the bloodstained metal staff in my hands. “You don’t have to do this, Beth. There’s still hope for you.”
“There was never any hope for me.” She grimaced and swung her staff at my head.
I lifted mine and caught it before she could brain me. Beth kicked at my midsection, but I twisted the staff and hit her ankle, pushing it away. I hadn’t hit her hard enough to break anything, but that had to hurt. She grimaced and made a fist.
Gnawing hunger chewed at my insides, suddenly reminding how long it had been since I’d eaten a proper meal. I doubled over, suddenly weak. Beth brought the end of her staff up and hit me hard in the chin. I staggered back a few steps and she renewed her attack before I could focus, jamming the staff hard into my ribs. She pulled her staff back and turned it so she could bring the thick, gnarled end down on my head.
Suddenly, a beautiful woman in white was in front of me, holding back Beth’s staff with her sword. Remy! She slashed up, cleaving Beth’s staff in two and then across in a perfect horizontal line that would’ve taken off Beth’s head if she hadn’t jumped back. Remy’s downward follow through slice, however, caught Beth across the chest. Beth screamed. Remy raised her sword for the finishing blow.
“No!” I shouted and pulled on Remy’s shoulder at the last second.
Remy’s sword missed, the blade digging into the wooden wall beside Beth’s head. She spun to face me, expression a mix between confusion and anger.
Beth put her hands over the bloody wound. The whole front of her was stained crimson now. “Kill me! Do it, Lazarus! I deserve it.”
I swallowed and shook my head. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let Remy kill her, and I wasn’t going to, not when she was lying helpless on the ground and bleeding.
Remy made the choice for me. She yanked her sword out of the wooden wall and slammed the pommel into the side of Beth’s head. Beth’s eyes rolled back and her body went limp. She was alive, but maybe not for long with the way she was bleeding.
“Come on!” Remy shouted, pulling on my arm. “We’re here to rescue someone. Go find her!”
I turned my back to Beth. There was fighting everywhere. The bodies of Valkyries and fae soldiers lie strewn all over the dance floor and the stairs. For every dead Valkyrie there had to be ten dead fae. We had overwhelmed them by force, and caught them by surprise, but it was still costing us dearly.
On the right side, I spied a way up, past the fighting on the stairs. Loki was trapped there. All I had to do was climb the stairs, kill him, and all this would be over. I ran for the stairs.
A Valkyrie stepped in my way, sneering and jabbing her spear at me. Foxglove came out of nowhere and slashed at her legs. She went down with a scream of rage. “Go!” Foxglove shouted. He was covered in blood. I hoped none of it was his. He’d only just come back from the dead. I couldn’t forgive myself if he died again.
The cut in my leg burned, but I forced myself to go up the stairs. A Valkyrie threw one of Summer’s soldiers over the banister, screaming. Another soldier stabbed her in the back. Someone else hacked at her neck, bringing her down. Puddles of blood splashed underfoot. The carpet was drenched in it.
One Valkyrie waited at the top of the stairs. She charged at me but stopped suddenly when one of Declan’s arrows found her throat. She grasped at it, and fell, gurgling.
“Just you and me now, Loki,” I said, stepping over the body.
He stepped back and gave me a knowing smirk. “Not quite.”
Something moved on my right. I spun with my staff raised and deflected a spear tip just before it stabbed me in the side. I had my staff raised, ready to swing it like a baseball bat and crush the skull of whatever Valkyrie had attacked me, but stopped suddenly when I recognized my attacker. A chill ran down my spine. “Emma?”
With a growl, she
thrust the spear at me again, only this time I was too shocked by seeing her to block it.
The spear sank deep into my stomach. Time stopped. Numbness spread through my body, at odds with the icy pain throbbing in my gut. Emma jerked the spear out and the numbness retreated, filling my whole body with fresh pain. I sank to my knees with my hands over the gaping wound in my belly, able to utter only one word. “Why?”
“She can’t answer you, Lazarus.” Loki stepped in front of me to caress Emma’s cheek with the back of his hand. “She doesn’t even know who you are. Not anymore. Now, she belongs to me. Just as the others do. She is my Valkyrie now and obeys only me.”
“Bastard,” I ground out between clenched teeth. “I’ll kill you.”
“I’m afraid this type of magic isn’t so easily undone.” He smirked. “Kill me, and she’ll never get her memories back. You were warned, Lazarus. You came too late.”
Beth stomped up the stairs, a stolen sword in hand. She was bleeding from the head. She looked at me with murder in her eyes, but didn’t attack, instead going to Loki’s side. “We must go.”
He nodded. “Good luck, Lazarus. I’ll be in touch with those last two names you owe me.”
Loki strode through a door on the balcony with Emma and Beth following after.
I stared after them while the battle raged all around. I’d failed. All my planning, all my hard work... I’d come at Loki with everything I had and still the bastard managed to be one step ahead of me.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Remy sent for a healer to close my wound. The mage did what she could for my body, but there was no helping the broken heart. I just kept seeing Emma’s face over and over as she stabbed me, trying to find proof that Loki was lying. She’d looked at me with absolutely no recognition. Cold. The same way she’d looked at criminals on the street. He was right. She didn’t know me. Unless I played along with Loki’s plan, she never would again.
We hadn’t even found a way to take Loki down. Attacking Loki like that wouldn’t work a second time. This time, we’d had the element of surprise on our side. He hadn’t been expecting us to show up. He’d be much more careful from now on, which meant we had to find another way.
