“Which is why I recommend you leave before I start,” Gale says.
“Didn’t you hear Keva? We stick together.”
“Not exactly what I meant…,” Keva says.
“I’m not working alone, you know, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Gale says, scanning the horizon line.
“You mean Kaede’s here? Where?” I ask, belatedly remembering the two knights had been working together long before Keva and I met them.
The corners of Gale’s lips curl up. “Keeping Asheel entertained while I freed you guys.”
“And then what?” I ask.
“Then we take care of her,” Gale says simply.
“Except you’ve got that giant cauldron to destroy first,” I say.
Gale nods silently.
“Guess that means you’ll be needing a second diversion,” I say, though my legs still feel like jelly.
“I’m not sticking around, if that’s what you’re implying,” Keva says.
“Not at all.” I smile at Nibs. “Thought you guys could get a head start while we do a little cleaning here first.”
Keva’s eyebrows lower dangerously. “Don’t be stupid, Morgan,” she says, and I wince as she grabs my bad arm. “It’s one thing for a knight to want to be all brave and show off. But you?”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I say. “But don’t worry, although my power’s changed, it still works fine.”
Keva’s fingers dig deeper into my forearm, and I have to bite on my cheek not to cry out. “Carman won’t be so lenient if she catches you this time around.”
“She won’t catch us,” Gale says. “It’ll be too late by the time she comes back. She’s currently busy admiring her dragon’s work.”
I feel the blood drain from my face. “You know about that?”
Gale’s green eyes settle upon me. “Everyone here knows.”
Keva sighs in defeat. “Don’t forget that you’re my ticket out of this,” she tells me. “I need you alive.”
I smile at her. “Get going, then,” I say. “We’ll catch up as soon as we finish here.”
◆◆◆
The cloud of dust is growing larger in the distance. They’re almost here.
I take a deep, steadying breath, gauging the distance between the approaching demon and the cauldron. Gale’s been at it for a while, working his spear around the Pair Dadeni’s thick metallic base, slowly weakening its structure. But he won’t get to finish his work unless I draw Asheel’s attention elsewhere.
Before I can think better of it, I’m moving to intercept the demon, the banshee shadowing my every move. Now that Asheel’s closing in on us, I can see the eerie flashes of lightning bolts slashing at the sky. Guess Asheel isn’t too happy with Kaede right now. I come to a sudden halt, looking for a good way to get Asheel’s attention long enough for Gale to finish the job.
“Dead,” the banshee says.
I nod. “Yeah, they’re all dead,” I say as we reach the last of the draugar. “Or supposed to be, anyway.”
The banshee shakes her head. “Deader,” she says, pointing at one of the divisions standing a little off to the side.
And I finally get what she’s trying to say. The banshee’s pointing at a section of draugar that is composed of all the rejects—bodies found way past their expiration dates, or perhaps the Pair Dadeni’s first failed batches, for their state of decomposition is such that they can barely stand.
Carnivores always go for the weakest of the pack, and I plan on doing just the same.
To my surprise, I find myself excited at the prospect of finally getting a little action of my own, a small measure of retribution against these monsters. I can already picture Carman’s face when she finds out a squad of her army’s been torn down while she was away, and that I was responsible for it.
“Make my arm strong and let me not succumb to fear,” I pray under my breath, as I take off again.
Power crackles around me as I plunge into the battalion of rotting corpses. The ground splinters on either side of me, twin waves of black tar rearing up from the crevasses. I swing my arm forward and the black lava follows the movement.
The draugar look on dispassionately as the black tides crash into them, ripping through their ranks. Not a single one of them fights back or tries to flee.
I watch as the smallest of them, a little girl with legs bent all wrong—perhaps from a car crash—gets swallowed up, her skin and flesh melting off her bones, absorbed into this dark sea of my making.
My stomach heaves in revulsion, my prior excitement vanished.
“Tut, tut, tut,” a voice says from above.
I crane my neck up to find Asheel staring down at me, her chestnut hair falling around her round shoulders in soft waves. Distraction successful. Now I need to survive.
“Didn’t think we’d meet again so soon,” Asheel says, dropping lower so I can see her impish, snaggle-toothed grin. “You know, I never got to properly thank you for restoring my powers.”
“You’re so not welcome,” I say.
“In exchange, how about I show you what I can now do?”
Asheel drops her smile and snaps her fingers. I yelp in surprise as the ground heaves, throwing me down before the still bubbling pools of tar. I roll to push myself back up before my body can process the pain, then spin around to face the she-demon again. But Asheel’s no longer there.
I catch movement from the corner of my eyes, then the she-demon’s sharp-nailed fingers pierce my right shoulder, shattering my bone upon impact. I howl in pain, vision clouding over.
“That’s for moving from your post,” Asheel says.
Her other hand slithers around my throat to cradle my head against her bosom, crushing my trachea beneath her iron-like fingers.
“You shouldn’t have touched my flock, sweets,” she continues. “I’m going to have to replace these now. So I’ll start with turning you into another of my draugar. I’m sure Carman won’t mind it if—”
With a startled hiss, Asheel suddenly releases me.
“Misssstressss!”
I struggle to stay on my feet, fighting to remain conscious.
“There’s another I could add to the lot,” Asheel says, eyes flashing as she pulls an obsidian knife out from between her lower ribs.
Without even looking, she hurls the knife away, and it strikes the banshee with the power of a shotgun, sending her flying into the nearest hillside.
That’s when the ear-splitting sound of metal cutting metal echoes across the valley, setting my teeth on edge.
Asheel whirls around, her face pale with shocked horror. “The cauldron!”
And I find myself smiling. Finally.
Chapter 14
Asheel bullets through the sky, blue light flashing in the midst of the draugar army as she casts thunderbolt after thunderbolt at Gale. The cauldron itself is lying on its side like a cracked egg, its contents spilled over the ground. My gaze drifts down to the remains of the latest humans that have been fed to it, bodies mangled and shredded apart, like in some giant cannibalistic stew.
Blood drains from my face as I pick out a woman’s face staring blankly back at me, the rest of her body torn away in the explosion. A woman I last saw smiling brightly at her newborn son. The one person I’d managed to save from Mordred’s clutches.
“It can’t be…,” I whisper through numb lips.
“Missstresss?” the banshee calls out in worry, hobbling her way over to me.
“He promised,” I say, throat convulsing.
“And a Fey cannot break its promise.”
I start at the gravelly voice, and the banshee whirls around with a vicious growl, only to let out a startled yelp. I stare uncomprehending at the slight boy picking his way through the pools of tar I’ve called up, and my mouth drops open.
Owen, Bri’s brother, the one I couldn’t free from the Siege Perilous, is standing before me. The boy still looks a lot like Bri—same birdlike build, same dark hair
, and straight nose. But the taint from the Siege Perilous that marks my hands has reached his eyes instead, dyeing them entirely coal-black.
But my anger and hurt at the betrayal burn through the shock of seeing him here.
“Mordred isn’t just any kind of Fey, Owen, he’s a Dark Sidhe,” I say, voice raw. “And this is proof that he can lie. We’d made a deal, that he’d leave the woman alone, yet she still ended up here, and now she’s…”
The world around me shrivels down to a pinprick, swallowed by a maelstrom of dark emotions—fear, loathing, despair. I thought I’d put them behind me that day Arthur found me cutting myself in the restrooms. But they were always there, lurking beneath the surface. Now they’re back in full force, drowning me, and Arthur’s not here to show me the light.
“You saved a life,” Owen says, his gravelly voice oddly muted.
“She’s dead,” I say.
“But her son isn’t. And you gave her a chance to see him before death claimed her.”
“Death didn’t claim her,” I snarl. “She was happy and healthy until Mordred turned her into that!”
Asheel’s sinister laugh reaches us from high up in the turbulent sky, pulling my attention back to the battle. Electric bolts light up the darkening clouds as the she-demon launches another attack at Gale. Lance’s brother looks so small, standing on top of the upturned cauldron, spear glinting in his hands. A skiff in the middle of a stormy sea, seconds away from sinking into the abyss.
But at the last second, Gale jams his golden spear up, drawing Asheel’s lightning to him.
“They’ll be fine,” Owen says, making me jump. “But you and your banshee won’t if you remain here.”
I scowl at Bri’s twin. “Is that a threat?”
“A statement of fact,” Owen says with a half shrug. “This battle hasn’t remained unnoticed, and you are both slowed down by your injuries.”
Both? I turn to the banshee, mad at myself for not having noticed sooner.
“Are you all right?” I ask.
“Yessss,” the banshee says, her trusty obsidian knife clutched in her hand while she watches Gale and Kaede face the she-demon.
From the slight shiver in her shoulders, I can tell the banshee’s excited by the scene. This is what she was bred for, to fight until the last breath for her master, and a part of me wonders if she’d have led a peaceful life if Dean hadn’t found her. Or if he only allowed her at his side because war was already in her blood.
If she’s injured, I can’t tell, and the banshee isn’t one to complain, and for some odd reason I trust Owen to have stated the truth. I must get the banshee to safety before the whole demon city goes after us. Yet I can’t abandon Gale and Kaede like a coward.
“I’m not leaving without making sure we’re all safe first,” I say.
“The knights can fend for themselves,” Owen insists, as Gale throws himself into the air to meet Asheel.
The demon tries to avoid the spear’s charged blade, and veers off course at the last second. But Gale twists around, thrusting his spear straight at her legs. The power of a thousand lightning bolts sizzles through Asheel, lighting her up like a second moon. Then, before she can pull free, Gale uses her momentum to swing her around, and flings Asheel straight into the ground.
The earth explodes in a shower of dirt and rocks, taking with it another section of draugar. I shield my eyes as a warm wind howls through the plain, alarmed shouts arising in response, coming from the demon city.
“Mission accomplished,” Gale says, landing beside me.
Already his spear is sinking back into the muscles of his forearm. He grabs my hand, running at full tilt in the direction Nibs and Keva took, letting the banshee follow.
“Wait, Owen…,” I say, looking over my shoulder at the boy.
But Owen’s already gone, lost in the remaining ranks of draugar. My eyes turn to the city, and I recoil at the sight of the demons swarming over its walls like a great tidal wave. Gale pulls harder on my hand, urging me to speed up. I stumble after him, barely keeping my feet under me, vision sliding in and out of focus.
“What about Kaede?” I ask, already running out of breath.
“Creating a false trail,” Gale says.
We abruptly turn right between two hills, and the horde disappears from sight. Gradually, the ground steepens, the rocks on our path growing larger and sharper. I’m finding it harder to keep up. Breath ragged. Footfalls clumsy. Everything blurry around me.
“Sssstop,” the banshee calls out, jumping ahead of Gale to bar our way.
She points behind us, and Gale lets out a soft curse.
“You’re leaving a trail,” he says.
I look back, swaying dangerously as the world around me spins, catching sight of bright flecks of red on the ashy ground. Blood. Mine.
The banshee drops to a knee before me, urging me to climb on her back, and a familiar laugh erupts ahead.
“That’s quite a show you guys put up there,” Mordred says, perched atop his kelpie.
I stiffen. “How did you—” I start, words coming out slurred.
“Know about your little escapade?” Mordred bares his teeth. “I know all about you, sister dear. I know more about you than anyone else. Probably better than you do yourself.”
Gale and the banshee draw up on either side of me as my brother jumps off his steed, holding both hands up to show his lack of weapons. As if he couldn’t attack us with just the flick of a finger.
“On a scale of one to ten, how much can your brother be trusted?” Gale asks me.
“Minus two,” I reply, trying to focus my blurry vision on the approaching figure.
“Didn’t think you had it in you to actually fight in broad daylight,” Mordred says to Gale, stopping.
“Your sister helped quite a bit,” Gale replies guardedly.
“So it would seem. And now you have half a million demons hunting you down.” Mordred cocks a brow at me. “Barely able to stand and yet still fighting to protect those pathetic knights of yours,” he drawls. “Then again, I always knew you were a slow learner.”
“What do you want, Mordred?” I ask through gritted teeth.
Keeping his movements extra slow, he reaches inside a pouch at his belt, grabs my hand, and slips something cool inside it.
“It’s a tonic of sorts,” Mordred says, pointing at the arm Carman’s blood shadow’s punctured. “It’ll help you more than these knights or that guardian angel of yours ever did.”
“What…,” I start, opening my hand. My blood chills. “No!” I shout, throwing the ogham back at his face.
Mordred catches the nut-sized jewel, and lets out a loud sigh, before forcing the ogham back into my hand. “You need to get some strength back,” he says. “If not, you’ll die.”
“What do you care?”
Mordred leans in, a sardonic smile on his tattooed face, and I see the banshee grow tense. “I said we would always be linked, you and I, didn’t I? And this bond of ours is not one I can ignore.”
“I still won’t do it,” I say, wishing I could slap the smirk off his face. “I’m not some kind of cannibal.”
Mordred’s knuckles turn white around my hand until I wince in pain, and the banshee snarls in warning.
“Do you think we enjoy this?” Mordred hisses, moving out of reach of the banshee’s obsidian knife. “We do it to survive. And we’re not the only ones. Where do you think your precious Lugh and his cohort get their strength from?”
“The elements, of course,” I say automatically, recalling my lessons at Lake High.
“That only works for basic sustenance, actually,” Gale says, looking back the way we came, where the sounds of the demon horde are growing louder.
My eyes widen. “You mean you know about this…this…” I wave my free hand around, at a loss for words.
Gale shrugs, and Mordred snaps his fingers together, drawing my attention back to him. “Have you not been paying attention all this time?” he asks,
voice dangerously low. “A Fey’s real source of power comes from the Lord of its Demesne. They’re as much leeches as they profess us to be. We just have the decency to be honest about it.”
“You’re lying!” I shout at him, unwilling to believe a word of his. Mordred’s a Dark Sidhe. He’s never said a true word to me for as long as I’ve known him. Even if he is my brother, I can’t trust him—I told Gale as much just seconds ago. “You just said Lugh was doing…what it is you’re doing,” I say, taking measured breaths, “but he’s the Lord of his own Demesne, so what you’re saying makes no sense!”
“His lordship is a front,” Mordred says with a sneer, as if he expected my reaction. “He’s no better than a steward. And now that you know the truth, why don’t you be a good girl for once and do what I tell you to do?”
“Like when you took me to Carman to be used as a sacrifice?” I spit at him, and have the pleasure of seeing him flinch.
“I did it for your own good,” Mordred says. “She would have drained you to get that dragon made, even if you’d been sucked dry from restoring another one of her demons first. Like I said, you and I are two peas of the same pod. I know what’s good for us.”
“Two peas of the same pod?” I repeat through gritted teeth. “I’m nothing like you. You are nothing but the devil’s son!”
“Which makes you her progeny as well,” Mordred says, amusement couching the iron in his voice. “Very well-reasoned. I can see why Sister Marie-Clémence wanted to set you back a year every time.”
“What are you? A stalker?”
But his words have done their work. My stomach coils into a tight knot. As surely as Saint George brought the dragon of Silene down, I am demon-spawn. But that doesn’t give me the right to absorb and use some other poor Fey’s life energy.
“Not that I don’t find this talk of yours edifying, but we’re out of time,” Gale asks. “So speak your business now, or let us through.”
“I came to help,” Mordred says stiffly. “Or rather Nessie did.”
He points to his kelpie, and the beast looks at us with its fiery-red eyes in suspicion.
Morgana Trilogy Complete Series Page 92
