Daughter of Lies and Ruin

by Jo Spurrier

  I flinched away. I couldn’t bear to see it. Oh mercy, her own familiar.

  Beside me, Aleida’s hand shot out and power flexed around me, squeezing me breathless. So much power. Our spell laid out deep beneath the earth had worked, after all. Aleida had just been measuring it out in careful doses, making it look as though she were using all her strength while she secretly kept the rest in reserve.

  But it was too late. Blood dripped from the blade, and the tiny body fell writhing to the stones.

  Minerva threw down the knife as the earth beneath us began to tremble and shake. It seemed to me that there were tears on her cheeks, washing rivulets through the dust and sweat on her skin. ‘You see what comes of meddling, you stupid girl?’ she howled at my mistress. ‘These fools you spared are going to die anyway. The beast is coming.’

  The shaking beneath our feet grew. Within the span of a few breaths, I could no longer stand. Aleida staggered and fell to her knees, head bowed and shoulders slumped in defeat. Her hair fell across her face and in a small voice I heard her say, ‘Fuck.’

  Then, the roof started to fall around us. Aleida cast a glowing dome above us as the others scrambled close, Kara and the beasts wide-eyed with fear.

  ‘Her own familiar,’ I heard myself say. I was still in shock from the flash of the knife, the anguished writhing of that tiny body. ‘She killed her own familiar. How could she?’

  Aleida glanced up at me with a grimace. ‘For some folk that’s half the point of keeping them. It’s a reserve you can call on if you find yourself caught short, like a few coins sewn into the hem of your skirt. The horses must have been familiars too, or maybe more transformed folk; ordinary beasts wouldn’t feed enough power to the ritual.’

  ‘Where is she?’ Kara said. ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘You heard her, girl,’ Aleida said. ‘It’s coming. Don’t worry about Minerva, she’s done with us. She’s heading out, look.’ She nodded across the cavern. There was a flash of white and gold against the far wall, a familiar silhouette. A griffin. I hadn’t noticed it before, and it took me a moment to realise it must have been hidden behind the mound of rock towering over Brute. While I squinted through the dust and falling grit, I could just make out Minerva climbing onto the beast’s back.

  ‘She’s going to escape!’ Kara said. ‘Stop her!’

  ‘There’s no point,’ Aleida said. ‘Let her go.’ She turned to me, dark eyes anguished. ‘I did everything I could, Dee, I swear. But it was just like with Toro, every thread I pried loose snapped back as soon as I moved on to the next. I don’t know how she’s done this, what she’s done to anchor it, but I couldn’t bring it down . . .’ Her voice trailed off as she watched the griffin. It had taken wing and was circling the cavern, Minerva on its back with one fist buried in the feathers of its neck, the other holding a wand aloft. I felt a surge of power, and above us the night sky split open to reveal a ribbon of cold, clear blue — some distant sky. Not ours, I’d guess.

  ‘It wasn’t enough?’ I said. ‘The webs we laid out, the power from the earth . . . it wasn’t enough?’

  ‘It’s not a question of power. I could have overloaded the working and brought it apart, but it would have razed everything from here to the Haven.’

  We both watched as Minerva’s griffin glided through the slit in the sky without a backwards glance, and the ribbon sealed shut behind her.

  ‘You just let her go?’ Kara said. ‘You didn’t even try to stop her!’

  ‘Kara, hush,’ I said. ‘She doesn’t matter anymore. Aleida, what do we do? What’s the plan?’

  She shook herself, and heaved herself up with the aid of her staff, wiping dust and sweat from her face with her sleeve. ‘Dee, you need to get them out of here.’

  ‘But the pathways — they’re unstable.’

  ‘If they stay here, they’ll die. It’s coming, Dee. Just get them out.’

  ‘What about you?’

  She glanced away. The shaking had died away a little while we spoke, but now it was returning — different, this time. Now it was not so much a rumble but a growl, as though the earth itself was snarling. ‘I’m staying,’ she said. ‘I’m not letting it through without a fight.’

  Biting my lip, I nodded. ‘Okay. I’ll take them somewhere and then come back.’

  ‘No, stay away. This is more than you can handle. Get somewhere safe, I’ll find you when this is done.’

  ‘But how? You can’t use pathways. And how will you even find me?’

  ‘Dee, we’re kin now. I can find you anywhere. Just go! Do it now, this is only going to get worse.’

  ‘What about Maggie? And the wagon?’

  ‘There’s no time! Maggie will have to take her chances, and the wagon is just stuff. We can replace it. Go!’

  Behind her, the earth was cracking open, like mud drying in the sun. Deep red light streamed out between the cracks. The ground heaved, and the fissures exhaled a blast of hot, acrid air, stinking of rotten eggs and foulness.

  I backed away. ‘Just . . . be careful, okay?’

  Aleida smiled. It wasn’t reassuring in any way. There was a crazed, manic quality to her face that reminded me of the morning in Black Oak Cottage when she’d announced we were going out to hunt down the ghost of her old mistress. But what could I do? I’m just an apprentice, after all.

  I grabbed Kara by the arm and pulled her after me. ‘Come on!’ I called to the beasts, shouting now to be heard over the raging snarl of the earth. ‘We have to go!’

  CHAPTER 12

  Opening the doorway was a struggle, and that was only the start. Inside the rock was hot like a blacksmith’s forge; and wracked with quakes and tremors that sent grit and stone raining down upon us. Within moments I could feel sweat running down my neck and over my forehead, but the searing heat of the air seemed to dry it out as quickly as it came.

  I trailed my hand along the stone as I hurried through the scorching darkness, feeling Facet flitting through the stone to keep pace. I had the idea to take us all to Black Oak Cottage, for lack of anywhere better to go, but as the heat wrapped around us I had to change the plan. We couldn’t stay here that long. We had to get out, or we’d be roasted alive.

  I stopped, pressing both hands to the wall, while behind me Brute panted like a dog and Kara shifted from foot to foot, sweat dripping down her face. ‘Dee . . .’

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘I know. I’m getting us out.’

  Facet was just under my hands, rippling with worry and confusion. I wasn’t sure he understood the danger we were in, but like a pet he could sense my distress. ‘Help me find a doorway, please!’ I whispered to him. ‘We can’t stay here!’

  I could feel his wordless refusal through the stone. He didn’t want to, he couldn’t, it was wrong. He was trying to explain why, but I couldn’t understand.

  ‘You have to!’ I pleaded. ‘We’ll die if we stay here, it’s too hot for us!’ I was starting to feel faint, my stays too tight around my chest, my head pounding. I couldn’t breathe. Kara slumped against the wall next to me, head bowed and sweat soaking through her shirt and trickling down her neck. Still panting, Brute gave a low moan of distress and pressed his head against her.

  ‘Now!’ I demanded. ‘Please!’

  Thrumming with anxiety, he relented, and with his help I forced a doorway open, pushing with all my strength.

  We stumbled out into chill night air, like a splash of ice water after the heat of the caves. Kara and I stumbled through, but the beasts had to squeeze and squirm through the narrow opening, first Toro and then Brute, with a grunt and snarl of pain as he left chunks of fur behind on the rough stone.

  Outside, we collapsed onto soft sand, our skin steaming in the cold air. My vision had narrowed to a dark tunnel, and all I could do was gulp down breath after breath and listen to my heart pounding in my ears. Small tremors shook the ground, but I barely noticed, still recovering from the assault of the heat. I could feel Facet in the ground beneath me, still flushed w
ith . . . worry? Fear? It was hard to put into words what he felt, this little sprite that I’d somehow befriended, he was so alien and set apart from my world of flesh and bone.

  But as my vision cleared and my desperate need for air abated, I pushed myself up, trying to figure out where in the hells I’d brought us.

  Blinking, I rubbed my stinging eyes.

  The sky overhead was black. Utterly black, and devoid of stars. The sand beneath us was red, a deep, rusty hue, and that made me frown. Red never looked red at night, I’d spent enough time back at home searching for my little brothers’ toy soldiers in the yard after dusk to know that. This sand should be as black as the sky above.

  I heaved myself up, and what I saw made my heart leap and flutter with sudden anxiety. There was enough light to see by, even without stars or moon, though exactly where it was coming from, I couldn’t say. We were on a plain, largely flat but studded with strange dents and pockmarks, like the earth itself had been afflicted by the pox. In the distance I could make out dark streaks that might have been distant cliffs. But far closer than that, and far more ominous, was a huge cloud, clinging to the desert floor perhaps half a mile away. Hundreds of yards across, it was black as soot, seething and swirling and flickering with lightning

  Kara sat up with a groan, pushing sweaty hair back from her face, and swore a soft oath. ‘By all the gods, what in the hells is that?’

  I didn’t answer. In my chest my heart was sinking, my belly tightening to a hard knot. This place . . . this place was familiar, and yet not. Months ago, when I’d first arrived at Black Oak Cottage, Gyssha’s ghost had used my body to open a portal to one of the nether realms, and the glimpse I’d caught had haunted my nightmares ever since — a world of searing heat and blood-red sand, full of creatures that gibbered and howled and hungered, creatures like the one that had come out of the woods to stalk us last night while Aleida was seeking out Toro.

  I tried to dismiss the thought. Months ago when I’d caught a glimpse of another world through a rift, the sky had been a harsh yellow, blasting with heat and full of shrieking horrors. This world was cold and empty, but I couldn’t help but remember what Aleida had told me about the realms, the difficulties of telling just where in all creation we might be. It could just be night-time in that same roasting world. The bestiary had told me that, in our world, creatures of the desert avoided the baking heat of the sun, but from what I’d seen of the denizens of the nether realms, they seemed to revel in it.

  ‘Dee?’ Kara said again. ‘What is that? Where are we?’

  Never ignore your intuition, that’s what Aleida so often told me. It would explain why Facet had been so reluctant to let us through, too. ‘Um . . .’ I said. ‘Nowhere good, I’m afraid.’ Shakily, I got to my feet, pulled my wand from my belt, and set out.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Kara shouted.

  I didn’t answer her. I couldn’t have explained it if I tried. But that storm . . . I knew down in my bones that it was important. It had something to do with Minerva’s ritual.

  I didn’t expect the others to follow me, but they did. I glanced back to see Kara and Brute walking together, Kara with her fingers entangled in the bear’s shaggy coat. But Toro broke into a trot until he reached my side, and swung his head across to sniff at my shoulder, ears pricked towards me.

  ‘Are you all right?’ I asked him. ‘I didn’t want to hurt you back there. I didn’t want to hurt anyone.’

  He snorted a yes, and shook his head with a low nicker.

  ‘I’m sorry I let her get to you,’ I said. ‘I should have been better.’ I will be better.

  He made another nicker, a questioning sound, ears pricked towards the storm.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I muttered. ‘We shouldn’t be here, but here we are. Maybe there’s something we can do. Some way to help.’

  His head snaked out, catching my sleeve in his lips. I stopped, and with a toss of his head, he dropped to his knees once again.

  I hesitated, worried for the scratches on his withers where the eagle had dug in its talons. But he knew his own mind, I reasoned, and he was as deep in this as any of us.

  I clambered onto his back, and held tight as he heaved himself up again, and set out towards the storm at a canter.

  As we drew near, I saw something ahead of us, jutting out of the sand. A pillar of stone. No, an obelisk, like the ones in the basement, surrounded by grotesque towers of bone. This was bigger, though, as thick at the base as a good-sized tree, and tall enough that I had to reach up to touch the tip while mounted on Toro’s back. It thrummed with power, and when I stretched my hand towards it, the air around it felt as thick and sticky as treacle. We could feel the wind from the storm now, howling around us and blasting us with ash and grit.

  Small tremors had been shaking the ground ever since we arrived, but now a bigger one set Toro staggering and me snatching at his mane to keep my seat. Moments later, another one had me sliding to the ground for safety, while Toro stood straggle-legged to keep his balance. With it came a deep, earthen roar, and a deep red glow appeared within the storm, like someone had cracked open the door to a furnace. I couldn’t help but recoil from it, raising a hand to shield my face from the gritty blast of the wind. As I did, I caught a brief flicker of light wrapping around the vast, swirling cloud.

  It took me a few tries to bring it back into sight — I had to squint my eyes just so, and turn my head like this — but then, I saw it clearly. Lines of force, wrapped all around the storm, anchored firmly to the ground at one end, and reaching up into the black sky from the other, all woven together like threads in cloth. One of the threads reached into the ground right at our feet — right at the obelisk of black stone, humming with power.

  Kara and Brute caught up with us as I was examining the stone. Markings were scored into the smooth, glassy faces, some of the same sigils I’d seen in the basement earlier.

  ‘Minerva did this,’ I muttered, talking mostly to myself. ‘It’s part of the ritual. She must have made these, sent them here somehow . . .’

  In a flash I remembered what Aleida had said, last night when she was trying to undo the spell that transformed Toro. She’d said almost the same thing just moments ago. Every thread I pried loose snapped back as soon as I moved on to the next. I don’t know how she’s done this, what she’s done to anchor it, but I couldn’t bring it down.

  Something was holding those spells together, something she couldn’t reach. I thought of the webs of crystal we’d made in the caverns deep below the surface. Deep down where they couldn’t be found, so Minerva’s eagle couldn’t find them and destroy them.

  ‘It’s an anchor,’ I breathed. ‘Lord and Lady . . . She must be awfully good at portals, bringing the griffins through; hells, she opened the one she escaped through like it was nothing. That’s why Aleida can’t break the spells. They’re anchored in another blessed realm!’

  All the while, the earth still shook and rumbled in pulses, and the red glow within was growing brighter and brighter. But there was another light, now, as well as the constant flicker of lightning. There was a glow far above — a clear, brilliant blue, and at the centre a knot of shifting, opalescent colours. The same ones that had wreathed around Aleida as she fought in vain to break up Minerva’s spell. She was still trying, I guessed, pouring more and more power into the work. But I could see she was doomed to fail — as long as the anchors here supported the portal, she’d never be able to destroy it.

  I turned back to the obelisk. ‘Help me! We need to tear it down!’ I dropped to my knees, clawing at the soft sand, only to have Brute push me aside with his giant head and start digging with his enormous paws instead. After a moment, Toro circled around and leaned his shoulder against the pillar, pushing and heaving with his half-tonne of bulk. Between the two of them, there was nothing Kara and I could do but stand back and watch with growing anxiety as the red glow stretched upwards, higher and higher. It was not just soot and ash swirling through the storm now
— here and there were huge dark chunks of something jagged and crumbling, tossed around like dry leaves. They were pieces of earth, I realised, broken loose and hurled in the howling wind, while the red glow intensified with every moment.

  With a grunt of satisfaction Brute backed out of the hole he’d dug and circled around to the other side of the obelisk, nudging Toro out of the way. He reared up on his haunches, pressing his front paws near the tip of the obelisk, and with a great heave, pushed the thing over.

  With a boom of thunder, the line of power tore loose, snapping back like the tail of a whip. Kara flinched back from the noise, but she set her jaw in determination, her hand once again winding into the fur of her father’s coat. ‘We have to do all of them, don’t we? Just one didn’t make much difference.’

  ‘Mm, I think so,’ I said. There were dozens of chunks of earth floating through the storm now, and I could see more of them at the base as the wind pried them from the ground.

  ‘Well then—’ Kara began, but then she broke off. ‘Wait. What’s that?’ She slithered down into the hole and retrieved something from the sand. It was a brass chain, tarnished and corroded, strung with some kind of tooth, jagged like a saw blade. The beasts crowded around her to sniff at it, Brute making a low rumble in his throat.

  ‘Let me see,’ I said, and Kara handed it over. I could feel traces of power wrapped around it, but I couldn’t have said what they were for. ‘Did this belong to one of your friends?’ I said. Toro stamped and Brute growled, as though to protest my choice of words, but then Brute nodded, a veritable pantomime of the human gesture. ‘I’ll hold on to it,’ I said, tucking it into the pockets tied around my waist, under my skirts. ‘It might be important.’