A green sheen envelops me, and I find myself flying, stopping only when I’m high above the burning forest. Sameerah’s at my side, and we all watch as the fire spreads in every direction, advancing in waves that devour everything in their passage. Movement at the edge of my vision catches my attention—a flock of small birds that’s taken flight, wings batting frantically at the air to get away from the blaze.
“The extra weight is slowing them down!” Arthur shouts at Sameerah.
I realize then that the birds are actually very frightened pixies, many of them carrying small Fey creatures in their tiny hands who couldn’t flee the deadly fires on their own.
And, growing larger behind them, is the sinuous shape of Carman’s dragon.
“They’re not going to make it,” Sameerah says.
A light dives at the flying beast, glancing off the dragon’s thick hide. Lugh, I realize, heart beating erratically. But not even the Fey lord seems to have any effect on the beast. The dragon rears its head, black scales turning red as it prepares to blast the hapless pixies with its deadly fire.
NO!
Something inside me breaks loose. I hear a distant shout of surprise as a long thunderbolt flashes through the sky, striking the dragon in its flank. The beast bellows, its attack thwarted, and I watch in relief as the pixies fly away, almost out of the creature’s range.
“Not bad, hopper[86], not bad,” Sameerah says, and I have the strong suspicion that she’s talking to me. “Now try to aim for its wings. I’m afraid you’ve just tickled it, and dragons don’t like to be tickled.”
I feel faint, bile rising up my throat, like I do every time I use my powers. Did I really just do that?
“It’s gearing up for another attack!” Arthur exclaims, and I find myself pelting across the sky to meet it, Sameerah a half-beat behind.
The dragon’s belly has started to shine again, its veins standing out against its glowing hide. A series of frantic chirrups erupts from the flock of pixies, and their tiny wings beat at the air ever more furiously.
“Hopper?” Sameerah calls out, sounding worried.
But whatever I did, I don’t know how to do it again. Sameerah hesitates for a long second, perhaps hoping for another miracle, then lets out a long hiss.
“Carnage on the way!” she yells, hurling herself ahead towards the pixies.
The dragon unleashes its fury, fire spewing forth in a long, smoldering jet. Shrieks of pain and terror rise from the first wave of pixies and their passengers, before the flames hit them.
“Sameerah!” Arthur shouts, his voice strangely muffled as the pixies’ burning bodies drop out of the sky, a shower of tiny comets.
I scan the skies for the warrior Fey, finding a small group of Fey to have survived unscathed. But Sameerah’s not with them. A hole forms in my chest, dark and cold. This can’t be happening. The Fey warrior is fierce and strong, she can’t just be…gone.
“Help!” someone shouts from somewhere below, the cry barely discernible over the raging forest fire.
Still stunned, I find myself streaking through the air, right under the dragon’s nose as it dives towards something far below.
Knights, I realize, quickly picking out the squad in the middle of the devastation. At least a dozen men and women, clustered tightly around a group of children, shields up in a vain attempt to keep the dragon at bay.
Faster! I chance a glance backward. The dragon’s catching up with us, maw open wide, teeth gleaming. The children’s cries grow louder. Light blazes from inside the dragon’s gullet. I whirl around to face Carman’s creature, a cold wave spreading through my limbs, and open my mouth in a silent scream of hate and anger. Then the white-hot flames hit us, and the whole world turns into a blinding furnace.
Chapter 13
“Nobody knooows the trouble I’ve seeeen,” a low, raspy voice intones in a familiar if dissonant melody, “nobody knooows but J—”
An annoyed hiss cuts the voice off, and I realize I’m not the one who was singing.
No. I was the one dreaming of dragons turning the world to ashes. I cough feebly, as if still caught in the middle of the flames, and crack my eyes open. I’m back on the plain outside the demon city walls, the sea of draugar standing obliviously still around their fuming cauldron. As if the world above wasn’t coming to an end.
“You know what I hate about this place?” Keva asks hoarsely now that I’m awake.
I turn to her, and note that the banshee’s been tied to a third whipping post on Keva’s other side. At least Carman’s kept her word in keeping her alive. If letting us three rot together here counts as living.
“That it’s turning me into a pathetic wreck,” Keva continues with a mournful sigh. “I don’t want to be like you. I actually have aspirations.”
The banshee grunts.
“Fine. Had aspirations,” Keva says with a deep frown. “None of which were to play martyr at your sides, by the way.”
A shiver runs down my tied-up arms. I wish I were still passed out so I could find out what’s happened to Arthur and the others, instead of being forced to listen to Keva’s complaining.
“And if Arthur, Percy, or Lance had kissed me, I sure as hell would have made sure to repeat the act.”
I blink at the sudden change in topic. “Percy’s dead, Lance is with Jennifer, and Arthur may be gone as well,” I say, my voice breaking at the end.
“I know, such a terrible loss,” Keva carries on mournfully, “and if—wait, what? Jennifer and Lance? Since when? Does Arthur even know?”
I shrug in annoyance, the movement reopening the scabbing wound on my arm. What does it matter anymore who did what? My eyes settle upon the lone star twinkling brightly from within the grey sky’s vast emptiness. The hollow ache inside me since I stabbed Arthur has grown, turned into a black hole, drawing the last of my hope into its abyss.
I should’ve died a long time ago, as Irene so fervently wished. Then Carman would still be stuck inside her prison, and she wouldn’t have had the chance to destroy so many lives.
“Definitely not a good sign when Algol’s getting stronger,” a young voice says behind us, startling us.
And as I twist around to get a look at Gale, I find myself blushing in shame at the dark thoughts I was just entertaining. I’m the last person on earth who should be allowed to think like this—I’ve got too many things to make up for.
“You’re too late,” I tell him accusingly.
“Am I?”
“Who the hell are you?” Keva asks.
“Gale,” Gale tells Keva, his upturned face coming into view before the banshee’s hunched figure.
“Is that supposed to mean something?” Keva retorts snidely. “Now, why don’t you move along instead of staring at us like you’re at a zoo. We’re rather crowded over here.”
“I’ve got a better idea,” Gale says, and I hear the sound of chains hitting the ground.
Keva lets out a shocked moan as Gale eases her away from her post. I cringe as Keva whimpers again. Even with Gale’s gentle touch, she’s been tied up too long with her hands above her head for every movement not to hurt. Finally, when he’s made sure Keva can handle herself, Gale moves onto the banshee.
“OK, let’s rewind,” Keva says, as the banshee’s chains clatter to the ground. “Who are you again, and who’s this Algol you mentioned?”
Algol. The very same word I heard Lugh mention in my vision. I frown. Strange.
“Misstressss,” the banshee exclaims in a harsh whisper the moment she’s set free.
I grin at her as she hurries over, eager to cut me loose despite her evident limp.
“I’m waiting,” Keva says with her usual impatience.
“He’s talking about Ra’s al-ghul[87], you moron,” Nibs cuts in.
The banshee whirls around with a growl, but the clurichaun pushes her aside disdainfully.
“Rosh ha Satan[88], Tseih She[89], the demon star?” Nibs continues, eyeing our blank faces with disgust. With a resigned sig
h, he points to the single star I was staring at. “Suffice to say that star’s getting stronger because Carman’s almost done synching up this place with earth.”
“What’s your business, clurichaun?” Gale asks curtly.
I groan as the banshee finally frees me, test my joints, and shudder at the still-suppurating black and blue cut on my arm. Trying not to gag, I jerk my coat sleeve down over the wound, hoping that the blood shadow hasn’t infected me somehow.
“Eww!” Keva exclaims with a little squeal. “That is seriously the grossest things I’ve ever seen.”
I look up to find that Nibs is now staring cross-eyed at the pointy end of a golden spear.
“Tell me what you’re plotting now, clurichaun, or I will end you,” Gale says calmly, the lance steady in his hand.
“Here might not be the best place to discuss such matters,” Nibs says in a strangled voice. “If Asheel comes back, we’re all gonna be turned into draugar.”
“I actually want her to come here,” Gale says evenly. “Now speak.”
Nibs swallows audibly. “Let’s just say that in the witch’s vision of the future, however lovely it may be, there doesn’t seem to be much place left for those of us who want to enjoy life’s little pleasures.”
“You mean alcohol?” Keva says disdainfully.
“Amongst other things. Oh, I’m sure Carman isn’t all that bad”—I let out a loud snort, and Nibs rolls his eyes at me—“but Balor’s another thing altogether.”
The banshee whimpers softly and even Gale’s spear dips in surprise. I frown. Who is this Balor? And why does that name ring a bell?
“And even with that toy of yers, Gibborim,” Nibs continues, using that strange word the blind Watcher I’d met at Lake High used with me, “you wouldn’t stand a chance against him. Lugh himself barely managed to get him locked up, and he got help from higher powers.”
“I know our history, clurichaun,” Gale says, his spear now leveled at Nibs’s belly. “But is that really the reason you’re so intent upon helping us escape?”
“Correction,” Nibs says, “that’s why I’m helpin’ Morgan escape.”
“You should’ve done that before,” I snap.
“Spare me yer pity party, princess,” Nibs says. “Yer the one who sought Carman out. I don’t know which part of your bird brain gave ya the idea she’d treat you like anythin’ more than a slave. And then ya seriously expected me to come to yer rescue when ya realized ya’d messed up?”
Nibs spits in my direction, and the banshee growls at him, shackles raised.
“So why now?” Gale asks.
“Because her ladyship believes Morgan’s of no use to her no more,” Nibs replies.
“Because it’s too late,” I repeat for the third time, teeth clenched.
Nibs raises his remaining eyebrow quizzically. “Look,” he says, “Carman’s still very much dependent on her troops, despite yer latest gift to her. But rallyin’ all of these demons to her cause is no easy feat. Which should give ya some time to work somethin’ out.”
“Work what out?” I ask.
Nibs’s smile stretches the melted part of his face into a hideous grimace. “There’s one thin’ the witch is still scared of for now. Or rather, one person.”
“Lucifer?” I say, recalling all those endless lectures I received from Sister Marie-Clémence.
“Danu?” Keva asks at the same time.
“Exactly.” Nibs points at me with his knobby finger. “And ya may be a key to her power. Hence, why yer still alive.”
“What?”
But Nibs’s attention is back onto Gale.
“Satisfied?” the clurichaun asks. “Now if ya could stop pointin’ that fancy toothpick at me, we could get movin’.”
After a moment’s consideration, Gale finally lowers his weapon, the golden spear retracting into his arm with a wet, sucking sound.
“Absolutely disgusting,” Keva says, dry heaving.
“What are you?” I ask Gale in shock. No human, not even a knight, is capable of making a weapon disappear into his body like that. But if he isn’t human, then…
“Are you one of those skin stealers?” I breathe out.
Nibs coughs back a laugh. “He’s a knight, bozo. And a dangerous one at that.”
“But knights can’t…” I wave wildly about, as if it’s going to make up for my inability to explain what just happened.
“Can’t have things sprouting out of their bodies like a bunch of freaks?” Keva finishes for me, still eyeing Gale suspiciously.
“Lance can’t do that,” I say.
“It works like an ogham,” Gale explains, staring at his forearm. “You simply need to figure out how to absorb the object. Granted, it can’t just be any object.” He extends his arm, the point of the spear already pushing through his skin without so much as a trace of blood. “Want me to teach you how to do it?”
“No, thank you,” Keva says with a shudder.
“But if you can do that, why can’t Lance?” I ask insistently. “Why can’t any of the other knights?”
Gale shrugs. “Hard to accept your full heritage when you’re following the laws and regulations of an Order that’s anti-Fey.” A sad smile tugs at his lips. “But Lance would take to it easily enough, if given the chance.”
“Wait, wait, wait, time out,” Keva calls out, standing taller so she can look down her nose at Gale. “Are you saying you and Lance are related?”
“Brothers,” I say.
Keva’s jaw drops open. “You’re that Gale?”
“Is anybody even listenin’ to me?” Nibs says, stomping his foot on the ground. “This ain’t some high school reunion here! People actually do want ya dead, believe it or not.”
I eye the long lines of draugar, their backs rod-straight, all staring at the Pair Dadeni, waiting patiently for the day Carman will take them into the outside world. Into my world.
“The Gates are currently closed and heavily guarded on the other side,” Gale says. “I take it you have another exit in mind?”
Nibs pulls out a piece of cloth from his pocket and hands it out to him. “Here.”
“What is it?” I ask, sidling up to Gale as he unfolds the bloody handkerchief.
“Lucifer’s sigil?” Gale says, sounding surprised.
I stare at the all-too familiar symbol: A couple of inscribed upside-down triangles with a connecting V at the bottom.
“That’s the same one that was next to that hole Mordred used to get his draugar out,” I say, stomach turning.
“The portal was never erased,” Nibs says.
“You mean there was a secret passage out all this time and you never told me?” Keva asks, her voice pitching higher with barely repressed anger.
I raise my hand to cut her off before her rant can get more steam. “We can’t go out that way,” I say firmly. “Sure, some of the draugar managed to get through. But most were cut into thousands of pieces trying. This isn’t a viable solution.”
Keva’s eyes go round with horror. “Kind of an important side note,” she says, glaring at Nibs.
“Why don’t ya people ever listen?” Nibs says, a little louder. “I said Morgan was the key, didn’t I? So there’s nothin’ to worry about.” He pauses, then adds, “Theoretically.”
“And why, theoretically, would that be?” I ask.
“Because yer related to Mordred,” Nibs says. “Do ya seriously need me to spell every single thing out for you?”
Keva snorts derisively. “And if this doesn’t pencil out then we’re minced meat? No, thank you.”
But despite my early protest, Nibs’s explanation gives me pause. It brings back Mordred’s declaration that I could have opened the Gates of Hell if only I’d sat on the Siege Perilous instead.
“I’ll do it,” I say, hiding my shaking hands behind my back. Even if the odds are low, this may be my only chance to get out of here alive. “But you’ve got to promise me you’ll keep them safe until I can get them out ano
ther way.”
“Are you nuts?” Keva exclaims.
I shrug. “I’ve admired Saint George’s balls long enough. I think it’s high time I grew a pair myself.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Keva crosses her arms. “How dare you even think about abandoning us like that?”
“But I thought—”
She points an accusing finger at me. “We’re either all going out together, or none at all. And since I know how stubborn you are, that means option two’s out of the question.”
To my surprise, Keva flashes me a real, warm smile, and I feel myself respond in kind, momentarily forgetting all about my worries. If even Keva’s on board, then surely we can figure this out.
“Earth to the two dweebs, we need to get goin’!” Nibs shouts at us, his patience at an end.
“Sorry,” I mumble automatically.
But before I can start after the clurichaun, Gale grabs my arm to stay me. “Are you sure you can trust him?” he asks in a low voice.
“I dunno,” I say after a moment’s consideration. “He used to work for Arthur, but then finding him here…” I shake my head. “I don’t think we have much of a choice in any case. At least not me. Not in our circumstances.”
“We could try to look for another way out,” Gale insists.
“If there had been one, you’d have found it by now,” I say.
With a nod, Gale finally releases me. “Then go ahead,” he says, turning away.
“Wait, you’re not coming with?” I ask.
“I’ve got some business to attend to first,” Gale says, his arm opening up again to let his golden spear through.
“Because of Asheel?” I ask, remembering what he told Nibs earlier.
“And because of that,” Gale says, pointing at the Pair Dadeni.
My mouth runs dry, conflicting emotions running through me. If he destroys the giant cauldron, then Carman won’t be able to produce those soulless monsters anymore. But that thing is huge, the size of a small cottage, and Asheel’s newly restored to her full powers. I can personally attest to that.
Gale can’t take them both down, not on his own.
“A great way to leave with a bang,” I say, heart beating loudly in my ears.
Morgana Trilogy Complete Series Page 91
