by HP Mallory
“You, on the other hand, Bladesmith? Ohhh, I’m not certain your clansmen would say ‘disappointment’ even begins to cover your misdeeds.”
“Shut yer geggie,” I growled, knowing full well he wouldnae keep from talking. Jedidiah and I were now playing one of Gwydion’s favorite games. While watching two men fight, he thrilled to bring to light each of their failures. Whoever broke their concentration first would be defeated.
The smirk upon Gwydion’s face turned into a smug rictus. “Well, betraying your clan to the Romans on your mission to become Fergus Castle’s new lord… If any of your dead relatives could have participated in your execution, I daresay they would have.”
Those painfully true words hurt worse than me flesh wounds. I felt meself falling back more than I should have. Had me opponent been better trained on the sword than he was, this would have been the moment I lost the fight.
Besom came up behind the Welshman, her own bloodstained blade poised to end his life. Without turning ‘round, he held up his palm before pointing towards the debris walls over me shoulder. “I do believe you have more immediate concerns at present, Lily Harper.”
I circled Jedidiah and got a good glimpse of what was left of the wall. A small spray of sparks came from our blades while I saw Jeanne run quickly across the top with a Mephit and human pursuer at her heels. Two of the humans held guns and were trying to shoot the Maid of Orleans.
Me Besom nodded and ran in the direction of Jeanne, calling to the stookie angel who was doing the same.
“She is quite lovely, Bladesmith,” Gwydion said though I failed to give him me attention. “I am surprised she finds you suitable as a mate. Surely she could do much better?” He paused. “As I understand it, the current Master of the Underground City has his eyesights set upon her? Is that true? If so, he could certainly offer her whatever she should want?”
An overwhelming flash of light that could only have come from the angel blazed into me eyes. Even when I slammed me eyelids shut, I could still feel the light’s rays penetrating. Judging from his agonized cries, Jedidiah took a full blast of the same.
I opened me eyes, barely able to see, and began dragging meself towards the bewildered slave hunter. He popped his eyes open and made another swing at me. I felt the knife still lodged in me armpit quiver in sympathetic pain over the impact.
The Welshman stepped back into our view, unfazed by the blaze of light that hit the rest of us. “But let us not dwell entirely upon the Bladesmith’s woes,” Gwydion began again. “Of course, before you disappointed your children, Jedidiah, you disenchanted your wife irreparably.”
The slave hunter swung at Gwydion. “Don’t you dare speak of her!”
The nasty, little trickster all but danced out of the way with a chuckle. “But that’s always been the problem. You never did speak of her, not even when you allowed her to be taken to New Orleans against her will.”
I saw a perfect opening to end this fight for good but I wouldnae take it for I respected only a fair fight. Gwydion’s jibe allowed me to whack Jedidiah in the back with the flat of me blade to get his attention. “Don’t play his game, man. We already got one fight as it is.”
Our mutual jeerer raised his eyebrows in mock shock. “What? You don’t like playing games, Bladesmith? I remember quite a few of them you instigated in order to hold onto your first beloved.”
The jibe made me glance at Besom to see how she was faring. She was managing rather well against the worms and one of the humans who fell from the top of the wall.
Gwydion was suddenly right at my shoulder, smiling his toothy grin. “Quite an uncanny resemblance to your lost lass, eh?”
I tried elbowing his face only to hit naught but the empty air. I got me blade up in time to stop Jedidiah’s head stroke but still felt a stinging cut on me cheek for me trouble.
Before Jedidiah could pull back his blade, the Welshman whispered into me opponent’s ear. “Does Dahlia resemble your dearly departed, disenchanted wife, Jedidiah? She has the right skin tone but as for the other features…”
Jedidiah didnae take that well. “Enough!”
He made a great swing that would have separated Gwydion’s head from his shoulders. But any fool could see it coming from a mile off and the Welshman was far more nimble than the average fool.
Once Jedidiah showed me his back, I decided the time for warnings was over. I made a clumsy jab into the slave hunter’s shoulder blade that did little more than break the skin. He responded by making another overarching sweep that hit me hard enough to nearly drop me sword.
Och, how I missed the power of Donnchadh!
Gwydion was once more at my side. “And here your true nature is hidden under the guise of reticence and honor. Had your cousin, the rightful lord of Fergus Castle, been given the opportunity, perhaps he would have gifted you a far swifter death than the Romans did.”
I could feel his words hacking away at me just as surely as if he were stabbing me flesh. He quickly sidestepped to Jedidiah, who was aiming his sword at me chest. The slave hunter glanced at Gwydion with less nonchalance than he intended.
“There is nothing to discuss, traitor.”
Gwydion raised his pointer finger. “Almost exactly the same words you told Angie when you gave her up to Nathan Bedford Forrest’s men in Murfreesboro… And all to save your own perfectly pale hide.”
I could tell that one hit home judging by the way Jedidiah shook. His fighting instantly became more erratic and his defenses spottier. Only me leg kept me from finishing him proper.
The Welshman appeared at me side while I drove Jedidiah back. He continued to taunt the slave master.
“I wouldn’t get too upset, Jedidiah. After all, you had several good years, a marriage and two children. It’s far, far more than Tallis Black ever received for his pains. Why, his beloved didn’t even survive the taking of Fergus.”
Me attacks faltered at his words.
Damn him for knowing what he did of me and mine! And damn me for failing to focus past his cruel unmaskings to end this fight. Not that Jedidiah himself was having an easier time concentrating on me.
“So what are you saying, trickster?” Jedidiah insisted. “That I’m actually better than Tallis Black, the one-time Master of the Underground City?”
Gwydion used his finger to tap his chin. “Well, let’s see, you betrayed Jacob Fortlow so you could have his pretty slave for a wife, yet you gave her back under duress, and then you waited just long enough for the yellow fever to take her life. Does that sound better to you?”
That was more than the slave hunter could stand to hear. “Stop…”
Under me breath, I sighed heavily. Jedidiah had just uttered the one word that all but guaranteed the Welshman would do anything but.
Gwydion came closer, the rapidly approaching Spites a dark accompaniment to his words. “You left your children in the hotel… It’s a good thing both of them could pass as white in a city like New Orleans.”
Jedidiah’s face grew tight again. “Stop…”
“And by degrees, you found yourself in front of your wife’s hastily dug grave, a wooden branch barely marking the spot.”
“Stop…!”
“And yet her body wasn’t even there. It had floated out to sea nearly two weeks before you found her grave. Still, it was an appropriate spot for your subsequent suicide.”
Jedidiah yelled out an incoherent howl as he tried vainly slashing at Gwydion. The strokes went everywhere, leaving his back once more turned toward me. I called his name and when he turned to face me, this time, me blade plunged in true. The slave hunter gasped another yell as the point came out the other side.
As he fell to his knees, Gwydion leaned over him with a triumphant smirk. “That isn’t even the worst part, I’m afraid. No matter what he told you, Alaire never had your wife in his possession even though he promised you he did. I daresay she’s forgotten you by now. You are utterly alone down here and you always have been. Your place in th
e Underground City was more than earned by your own hypocrisy.”
Whatever fight was in Jedidiah’s eyes died as the Welshman finished. Jedidiah looked up at me and I saw he was a broken man.
“Finish me.”
Glancing up at the sky, those damnable Spites were nearly upon us, their infernal buzzing promising pain to anyone unfortunate enough to cross their path. I shifted me eyes over to the Flamels. “How much longer?”
Perenelle answered for both of them. “Nearly there, monsieur! Only a few more markings and—”
While she continued, I was distracted by Jedidiah’s hand grabbing me by the pant-leg and yanking from where he wavered upon his knees. “I said, finish me, damn you!”
I pulled away and put a boot on his back. Try though I did, me blade remained in the slave hunter’s body. The Spite cloud drawing closer made me redouble me efforts. Suddenly, something strong knocked me aside before tackling Jedidiah to the ground. It wasnae until she was sitting above me blade in me fallen foe’s back that I realized ‘twas Besom!
Her blade stayed sheathed as she used her hands to choke the life from Jedidiah. He didnae bother fighting her, but opened up his arms to welcome the second death that awaited him. I heard his neck crack but Besom kept right on squeezing. That was when I understood the brutal truth of what I was seeing.
Besom was possessed by Donnchadh.
I grabbed me beloved by the shoulders and pulled her back. “Off him, ye foul reaver!”
Donnchadh responded by slamming an elbow into me gut. The blow staggered me and I leaned down low enough for Besom’s fist to strike me chin. The force of the blow scrambled me brains. I could do nae more than stare when she easily pulled out me sword from Jedidiah’s cooling corpse. When she raised it over her head, the Welshman popped up at me side.
“Having a bit of a lover’s quarrel?”
I sneered but kept me eyes fixed on the advancing Lily with me sword in hand. “Ah’ve won yer game, Welshman. So Ah’d thank ye tae leave me be whilst Ah deal with this.”
He chuckled softly while patting me shoulder. “Oh, there’s no need, my steadfast hermit. That problem is about to solve itself.”
The Urn flared its golden light into a pillar, making the sound of a battle horn as it did. Besom’s eyes went wide while her fingers suddenly dropped me blade and she clawed at her throat. She started swinging herself to and fro as the noise from the Urn grew louder. Finally, she screamed a deep roar that ended when a red cloud suddenly billowed out of her mouth. The cloud rapidly compressed into a small dot that vainly attempted to resist the force of the gravity exerted by Pandora’s accursed gift.
But each struggle proved unsuccessful. The red dot that was Donnchadh was sucked straight into the Urn just a moment before the cloud of Spites drew near it. Every last speck of the cloud of Spites was similarly sucked down the same hole, though they too vainly fought for their freedom.
As the black was being consumed by the ubiquitous force that the Flamels had summoned, I snatched up me blade before kneeling at Besom’s side. “Are ye all right?”
She coughed a few times before she replied. “Y-Y-Yeah, I’m fine.”
I heard rapid footsteps coming from behind me. When I looked over me shoulder, I saw what was left of the opposing troops running away from the Urn as fast as their legs could carry them. Nae doubt they’d heard all the stories about the damage the Spites could do if they came too close to a living being.
I helped Besom to her feet. “Why’d ye do a fool thing like summonin’ Donnchadh?”
Her breathing was still ragged but her eyes shone with steadfast conviction. “I had to be sure he went into the Urn with the rest of them. If he remained inside me, he might have found a way to eventually take over.” She shrugged. “Or maybe the Urn would have pulled Donnchadh out of me anyway and damaged me during his extraction?” She tried for a grin as she slapped her right forearm. “At least I got a neat tatt outta the experience.”
From the downed rubble, something blue drifted towards the center of the circle. It wasnae very fast at first but it swirled faster and faster the closer it came to the Urn.
When I saw who was inside the glow, I recoiled. Quickly sheathing me blade, I ran right at the blue figure and grabbed her by the arm.
Jeanne looked down at her arm before giving me another sad smile. “You have to release me. Only I can quell the malevolence inside that container.” I knew in me heart she was right. But I shook me head and refused to release her. Tears fell from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks and I felt me stomach drop at the barbaric injustice I was witnessing.
Someone grabbed her other arm to fight against the tide… ‘twas Besom. “We need you! We need Beatrice!”
I tightened me grip again. Jeanne shook her head at me Lily. “I was never Beatrice.”
Besom shook her head. “But… I heard her name… I heard your name!”
Jeanne smiled. “You heard the name for the spirit of Hope; that was the true Beatrice. In life and in death, Beatrice was merely Hope’s vessel and its mouth.”
“Then why?” Lily started.
“I have taken on Beatrice’s mantle,” Jeanne explained. “Now Beatrice and I have grown so close together that I know not where she ends and I begin. Regardless, this is my fate.”
“Then ‘twas Beatrice’s voice what guided ye?” I asked.
Jeanne nodded with a sad smile. “Yes, it was Beatrice’s voice I heard for so long.”
Tears came out of Besom’s eyes at her words. “It’s so unfair.”
Jeanne looked between us. “It is inevitable. I shall always love you both for trying to save me. But that moment passed many long centuries ago. Let me do my duty to others one last time.”
I gritted me teeth hard before I finally released Jeanne. Besom, to her credit, held on a bit longer until Jeanne shook her head and reached out, prying Besom’s fingers from around her arm. Then Jeanne’s body shrank into a blue, glowing ball.
I thought I could hear whispers of the French prayer she had been reciting when the angel and I first met her. When the Urn sucked Jeanne in, the golden light and overwhelming vacuum suddenly ceased.
The cutoff was so sudden that nobody dared move for a minute. Then the stookie angel ran forward to grab Pandora’s terrible wedding present, which he held over his head.
“Jeannie!”
His sudden outburst caused the troops to begin running and shooting at us. The liberated Soul Retrievers ran ‘round the Fenrir corpses and headed for the trees. The Flamels pulled out more of their vials while Besom and I withdrew our swords to cover our group’s escape.
The Flamels threw a few vials that landed behind us, conjuring up an impassible wall of fire. It blazed so high and hot that I feared ‘twould burn the trees behind us.
I tried running for the gate but me wounded leg hobbled me to the point that I could barely limp. Yanking out Jedidiah’s knife, Besom caught me under the shoulder and all but dragged me forward.
Gwydion stood in front of the tree that housed the opening to the gate leading to the Dark Wood, his usual smile back in place.
“Allow me to get the door for you.”
With a flick of his wrist, the gate opened wide, allowing us entry. We ran forth and tumbled into the Dark Wood, barely ahead of the flames.
“His face the semblance of a just man’s wore…”
-Dante’s Inferno
TWENTY-NINE
LILY
Everything still felt wrong.
This was supposed to be a happy occasion. We’d finally escaped the Underground City with Pandora’s Urn. We’d completely destroyed the gate that led from the morgue to the Dark Wood to ensure that nothing from the Underground City ever escaped. We’d even gotten Donnchadh sealed away in Pandora’s Urn with the rest of the Spites.
We’d accomplished so much and yet everything rang so… hollow.
Two minutes after we arrived in the Dark Wood, Bill dialed up his friends, Sally and Polly, at AE. He d
idn’t stop holding his breath until he got an answer at the other end of the line. He filled them in on the situation and warned them about Alaire. There was a lot of back and forth before he hung up.
Tallis looked down at him with concern. “Are they all right, stookie angel?”
Bill nodded shakily. “Yeah, for now, Tido. But that don’t mean much.”
Harry drew up to his full height. “Any way we can help ‘em out, Shorty?”
Bill looked up at him with a solemnity I didn’t think he had. “They want you all ta rememberize a phone number to reach them in case you ever need to. Don’t put it in your cell… rememberize it, like I said. Use it ta git in touch with them when ya git home.”
Addie gave Bill a thoughtful look. “This isn’t over, is it?”
Tallis chose that moment to speak up. “Nae, lass… there’ll be plenty more Retrievers what needs retrievin’ themselves from down there.”
By the time Tallis guided our group to the portals that would lead them back to their respective homes, they’d all memorized the phone number to Polly and Sally.
I offered to put the Flamels up at my place in Edinburgh. I had the room and they definitely needed a place to stay. However, they politely declined, saying they preferred to find their own way and they had something they needed to do first.
Tallis wasn’t crazy about their idea. “That’s a fool’s errand. The moment ye set foot in AE, ye’ll be at the mercy o’ Alaire.”
Bill pointed at his favorite verbal sparring partner. “What he said.”
I stepped forward. “What kind of bodyguard would I be if I allowed you to fall into the clutches of the most dangerous person in the Underground City?”
Nicolas held up his hands and patted the air. “Mes amis, mes amis… we thank you for your concern. But as with Jeanne, this unpleasantness is an ordeal we too must face.”
Perenelle put one of her motherly hands on my shoulder. “Besides, do not Polyhymnia and Thalia deserve the help of two nearby allies upon which they can depend?”
My ex-guardian angel chuckled unhappily. “They’re pencil-pushers, yer lab rats. What the hell good does that do either of ya when the whip comes down?”
