A Sacred Magic: A Wild Hunt Novel, Book 9

by Yasmine Galenorn

  At first, I found myself focused on breaking Longlear, but then realized that my main goal had to be survival. I had to last long enough to cleave through the metal.

  The shield was beautiful, elaborately engraved with runic staves, and a circle of Celtic knotwork surrounded the edge, intricately embossed in the bronze. But Lugh had told me while we were eating breakfast in Cernunnos’s palace to look toward the center. He had forged the shield in two pieces, then fused them together. The central point where the two halves merged would be the weakest spot.

  Sure enough, as I eyed Longlear, I could see it—a thin line running down the center of the shield.

  At that moment, Nuanda closed in, sword raised. He brought his sword down from his right shoulder and I deflected the blade with my own, swinging into a counterattack. I sidestepped to the right, wondering if Nuanda knew that I was carrying Brighid’s Flame.

  If he didn’t, he might not guard Longlear as carefully. I tried not to tip him off, tried not to let my gaze linger on the shield.

  He came at me again, bearing down as his sword whistled through the air, aiming for my head. He was tall enough to catch me at my throat if I wasn’t careful.

  Again, I danced back, repelling the attack as I caught his blade with my own. Once more he pushed forward and I deflected him. I tried to go on the attack, tried to grab the offense from him, because I couldn’t get past his shield to hurt him. I had to break Longlear in order to have any sort of chance of winning. While I had years of fighting experience, he had decades of swordplay, and it was only a matter of time before I slipped up.

  We engaged again, Nuanda swinging, and once again, I deflected the blow. Again and again, he drove me back toward the edge of the circle. I shifted, moving to the left, then to the right, trying to throw him off guard. An image of an old cartoon I’d seen played in my mind—Bugs Bunny running in circles to get away from Elmer Fudd. Nuanda was driving me around the circle, blow after blow.

  The snow was falling hard now, and it was difficult to keep my footing on the new powder, slick over the compact snow on the hilltop. I slipped, almost going down before I managed to catch myself and duck away from a blow that could have beheaded me.

  My arms were getting tired and I knew I couldn’t keep this up much longer. I reached deep inside, searching for my father’s blood, searching for the predator within. Within seconds, I felt the cunning Autumn Stalker within me emerge, and I coaxed her out, offering her the reins.

  Within the blink of an eye, my mood shifted from slightly frantic to focused and determined. I gauged how far Nuanda was from me, and how close I’d have to be in order to hit the shield, all the while repelling the blows of his sword. I gave myself over to instinct, and the energy in the circle shifted as I drew on the powers of my ancestors.

  Nuanda seemed to feel the change because he suddenly backed off a step, staring at me with narrowed eyes from behind the shield.

  I chose that moment. He was unsettled and that meant he was off his guard as much as he was probably going to get. I raced directly at him, bringing Brighid’s Flame down hard, landing the tip of my blade at the center of the shield. A massive roar, like rolling thunder, rippled through the air and Nuanda shouted as a crack began to form on the shield, brilliant golden light pouring out of it. The crack spiderwebbed across the surface, the light growing stronger. Longlear began to hum and I decided now was a good time to retreat. I darted away, averting my eyes as the light grew so bright that it was almost blinding. Nuanda dropped the shield and ran the other way, still confined within the circle.

  The next moment, there was a deafening sound as Longlear exploded.

  I turned, panting, brushing the snow off my forehead. Nuanda was staring at the shield, the look on his face scanning between anger and fear. He looked over at me, and then, rage winning out, came charging at full tilt, his sword ready.

  I met his blow, redirecting the momentum of his swing, but he was full-on furious, and I knew I couldn’t stand up against that kind of rage from a seasoned swordsman. I had to get away from him—had to defeat him some other way.

  The lake. Get him to the lake…

  The whisper rose inside me, and I didn’t question where it was coming from, I just followed orders. I broke through the circle, still holding Brighid’s Flame, and skidded my way down the hill, half running, half sliding through the fresh snow. Nuanda thundered after me, a string of curses hailing down on my head.

  I was panting, stumbling through the snow, running as fast as I could. The lake was right near the bottom of the hill, and I could easily imagine children rolling down the grassy slope during summer, then darting into the lake. But the pastoral scene vanished when I realized how close he was behind me.

  Crap. What do I do once I hit the bottom of the hill?

  You’ll know what to do, came the answer.

  As I skidded to a halt, a few yards from the frozen lake, I glanced around, searching for cover, but the bushes and trees were all a good mile or so away, and I couldn’t see the other side of the lake. Whatever I did, it would have to be here. Maybe I could drown him, I thought, or drag him into the water where our swords would be useless.

  Or maybe…but I stopped as an inner hunger rose up. I eyed Nuanda, suddenly aware of just how much life energy he possessed. He was ripe with it, swimming in it, and I wanted to drink him down, to suck every breath out of his body. Aware of what was happening, I gave in.

  I turned to him. He was on level ground now, about five yards away, looking slightly confused by the fact that I had begun walking toward him. I smiled then, the most seductive smile I could, and he began to raise his sword, then wavered.

  “You don’t want to do that,” I said, my voice gliding over the words like silk. “Put down the sword. We should talk.”

  He started to shake his head, but I repeated my words, trilling over the command, holding his gaze tightly with mine. I was dragging Brighid’s Flame behind me as I sauntered toward him, coaxing him to drop his sword.

  “I want you to stop, to listen to me. I’m your muse, Nuanda. Can’t you feel it? I can lift you to great things. I can inspire you to take hold of the world and bring it down in flames. With me by your side, I can bring you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

  “Who…what…are you?” The words came slowly out of his mouth as his eyes glazed over. He lowered his sword, confusion flitting across his face.

  “I’m your dream. I’m your muse. I’m your everything. You know you want me. You know what I can do for you. Can’t you feel it? The bond between us? We’re connected, and I’ll always be with you.” I coaxed him on, reveling in the desire that played across his face.

  He couldn’t look away—no man could, no mortal man. I had the power to bring kings to their knees. Even the mighty Fomorians couldn’t resist me for long, not without magical protection. I was their dream, their muse, and now all I could think about was how much I wanted to slake my thirst, to fasten onto his life force and drink deep.

  He slowly dropped the sword, shaking his head. “What’s happening? What are you doing to me?”

  “Nothing that you don’t secretly long for,” I said, whispering as I closed in on him. “You have always wanted this. The absolute adoration and worship that I can promise you, if you’ll let me in.” Deep inside, a voice whispered Don’t go too far…don’t let her take you over all the way. But I brushed it aside.

  “What…I’m…” Nuanda dropped to his knees in the snow, trembling. “I need you.”

  The look on his face was stunningly beautiful. He was a gorgeous man, his lips full, his features chiseled against his pale skin. His eyes were those of a leader, but even leaders needed to be led at some point, to let down their barriers and expose their vulnerability.

  I was right on top of him at that point, and I leaned down, pressing my lips to his, drawing a whiff of his breath into me. He jerked as I did so, but settled down, glassy-eyed as I subjugated him with my power to compel. I kissed him aga
in, drawing off yet a deeper breath, suckling on his life force as I quenched my thirst. He began to struggle after a moment, but I pressed further, breath after breath, disarming him.

  At last, I stood back and he fell forward, on his hands and knees before me. He didn’t try to get away, so locked within my spell was he, and I drew on the powers of the lake to shore me up. I gazed down at Nuanda, the Mighty. Nuanda, the Warrior Who Would Be King.

  “You would have destroyed my people. You would have destroyed your own people out of revenge. You’re a coward, choosing to destroy innocents in your lust for vengeance.” My voice echoed over the lake, caught by the rippling waves that lapped against the shore. The snow was falling heavily now, muffling everything around us.

  Nuanda raised his head. He was crying. Confused, he began to shake. “Please, help me. Please? I need you. I need your power…”

  I stared at him, disgust rising for his show of weakness. “You are no king,” I spat out. “You are nothing…a terrorist who uses others to instill fear and anger, a murderer. I sentence you now, Nuanda, to the same fate to which you have condemned far too many.”

  I raised Brighid’s Flame. I was judge and jury here, I was the hand of Fate. This moment had been woven into my destiny and there was nothing to do but see it through. Herne’s warnings came flickering back, along with the words from Lugh and Brighid and Morgana and Cernunnos. No mercy. No compassion. The fate of the Fae rested on my shoulders.

  Nuanda’s expression shifted from confused to fury as the power of my charm began to subside. But it was too late. Too late for him, and too late for the Tuathan Brotherhood.

  “It ends here,” I whispered, bringing the blade down with as much force as I could exert. “It all ends here, for good.”

  As my sword cleaved into his neck, slicing through like hot metal through soft butter, I held my ground. The blood began to spray, hitting me in spatters, but still I stayed my course. As Nuanda’s head fell away from his body, a glassy look of surprise in his eyes, I watched impassively. Both my inner predators smiled, satisfied. I had done my job. I had fulfilled a destiny woven into my tapestry. And I relished the feel of his blood on my hands.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  That evening, we were sitting in Cernunnos’s palace, goblets full of mead, a fire roaring in the fireplace. I was curled up next to Angel, Talia and Viktor were stretched out on one of the sofas, Herne was standing by the window, and Yutani was next to the fireplace, staring into the flames.

  Cernunnos entered the room, followed by Brighid and Morgana. As we started to attention, Cernunnos held up his hand.

  “That’s all right, stand down. You’ve earned the right to rest. No curtseys necessary.” As we took their seats, a bevy of servants filed in, carrying plates of finger foods and more mead. When they left, Cernunnos let out a satisfied sigh. “I’ve talked to the head of the United Coalition. They’ve already reinstated the Fae Courts, and have put out the word that the Brotherhood has been dismantled.”

  “But has it, truly?” I asked. “Will the death of their leader destroy the entire movement?”

  “There may be a few stragglers, but yes, Nuanda’s death has been broadcast through the network. Pictures of his severed head have been released to the news media. There will be no doubt of his fate. He was the lifeblood of the movement. And thanks to Yutani and the members’ list, the police have been moving in and over half of them are already in custody. I don’t think there should be much trouble finding the remainder. There was no one to take Nuanda’s place. He was an excellent orator and it’s hard to find someone as compelling as he was.”

  I was staring into the flames, thinking about the morning. Morgana had been correct—letting my Leannan Sidhe side free had been the only thing that saved me. I couldn’t have fought against Nuanda much longer, not with his skill.

  “What are you thinking?” Herne asked.

  “I’m thinking that I’m learning to understand both sides of my heritage, and appreciate them. I’ve been so afraid of what I could become, ever since before the Cruharach, when I learned what my heritage is. Now, I’m beginning to understand myself. It’s almost like I have three people inside of me. The Leannan Sidhe, the Autumn’s Bane, and then—me—a combination of both and yet more.”

  “You almost sound like you have multiple personality disorder,” Angel said.

  I shrugged. “It doesn’t seem far off. It really is like possessing several personalities. I can summon either my mother’s or father’s blood, and they take over, but then they give me control once I no longer need them. Yet I’m not separate from either one. That’s the best way I can explain it,” I said. I knew it sounded crazy, but it made sense. There were three sides to me, and I had to accept them all if I was to be comfortable living in my skin.

  “I think we understand,” Talia said.

  Angel nodded. “Ember, you’re the primary personality. But there’s a definite difference when the other two aspects of yourself come out. I wouldn’t call them separate per se. It’s almost like you take off one coat and put on another, and that coat shrouds you in a different energy. I could feel it when we were watching you today, when you started running for the lake. Even from where we were, I could feel something shift in you.” She didn’t seem nearly as concerned as I thought she would be.

  “The important thing is that the Tuathan Brotherhood is gone,” Morgana said. “I’ve notified both Saílle and Névé, so you should see things back to normal within a week or two. You know the truce won’t last. The Fae had been fighting since the beginning of time. Granted, over on Earth, they don’t fight nearly as badly as they do here.”

  “For which I am grateful,” Herne said. “So we should go home tonight.”

  “Wait for the morning,” Cernunnos said. “Tonight, let us break bread together, and celebrate a victory. Remember, there are dark times ahead, so we have to acknowledge our triumphs when we can. The battle with Typhon will be long and insidious and it won’t be easily won. I don’t think we’re on the front lines in terms of fighting against the father of dragons, but we’re certainly going to be taking care of collateral damage.”

  The energy in the room seemed to shift, the shadows growing more ominous. I crossed to the window to stand by Herne. He wrapped his arm around my waist and I leaned my head on his shoulder.

  “Thank you,” I whispered. “Without your training I wouldn’t have made it through. I don’t think I could have survived even one round in that circle if you hadn’t shown me how to use Brighid’s Flame.”

  “You were brilliant. You did everything you needed to do, and you trusted your instincts. You didn’t second-guess yourself. I’m so proud of you.” He leaned in, pressing his lips against my forehead.

  I closed my eyes, basking in the warmth.

  All I could think about was how lucky I was to have him, and how lucky I was to have my friends. If we had to live in a world filled with monsters like Nuanda and dragons like Typhon, at least we had each other. In times of great trouble, friends and family were all we had to rely on. Love and trust and commitment were the foundations that allowed us to go out and fight great evil. Standing up to hate took loyalty and honesty and courage.

  And wasn’t that what life was about? Fighting the good fight, protecting those we loved, standing up for what was right in this world—that was the core of life. Without belief in the greater good, without putting ourselves on the line for what mattered, life didn’t mean much.

  “What are you thinking?” Herne asked softly, nuzzling my ear.

  “That I’m one of the luckiest women on Earth. That being a tralaeth is something to be proud of. And I’m thinking that my anger against the Fae Courts for the way they’ve treated me is something I need to let go of. I don’t want to become another Nuanda, out for revenge because I feel rejected. They may reject me, but that doesn’t matter. Here, with you and my friends, I have found more acceptance than I’ve ever known. I’m tired of being angry. I may never wal
k down the streets of TirNaNog or Navane and be accepted into their society, but I don’t need to. And I don’t want to carry that anger anymore. From now on, I can make my parents proud of me by fighting against evil, and fighting against hate. I’m going to let go of the grudges because really, all it does is drain energy.”

  Then Herne pressed his lips against mine again and kissed me. Outside the snow was falling in Annwn, as the moon shone through a sliver in the clouds. Tomorrow we would go home and resume our lives there, but for tonight Cernunnos was right. It was time to celebrate our victories and rejoice that we had made a difference in the world. Because soon, the greater darkness would come, and we needed all our reserves to fight against it.

  If you enjoyed this book and haven’t read the first eight of The Wild Hunt, check out THE SILVER STAG, OAK & THORNS, IRON BONES, A SHADOW OF CROWS, THE HALLOWED HUNT, THE SILVER MIST, WITCHING HOUR, and WITCHING BONES. Book 10—THE ETERNAL RETURN—is available for preorder now. There will be more to come after that.

  Return with me to Whisper Hollow, where spirits walk among the living, and the lake never gives up her dead. AUTUMN THORNS and SHADOW SILENCE return in January, along with a new book—THE PHANTOM QUEEN! Come join the darkly seductive world of Kerris Fellwater, spirit shaman for the small lakeside community of Whisper Hollow.

  Meanwhile, I invite you to visit Fury’s world. Bound to Hecate, Fury is a minor goddess, taking care of the Abominations who come off the World Tree. Books 1-5 are available now in the Fury Unbound Series : FURY RISING, FURY’S MAGIC, FURY AWAKENED, FURY CALLING, and FURY’S MANTLE.

  If you prefer a lighter-hearted but still steamy paranormal romance, meet the wild and magical residents of Bedlam in my Bewitching Bedlam Series. Fun-loving witch Maddy Gallowglass, her smoking-hot vampire lover Aegis, and their crazed cjinn Bubba (part djinn, all cat) rock it out in Bedlam, a magical town on a mystical island. BEWITCHING BEDLAM, MAUDLIN’S MAYHEM, SIREN’S SONG, WITCHES WILD, CASTING CURSES, and BEDLAM CALLING: A BEWITCHING BEDLAM ANTHOLOGY are all available. Book six—DEMON’S DELIGHT—is coming in November!