Sword of the Raven

by Diana Duncan

  No sun, no moon, no clouds…just ominous gray overcast. No colors anywhere, except—whoa! She looked down. Her.

  She was glowing.

  Her skin cast a brilliant golden glow that radiated six inches outward. Toto, we’re not in Oregon anymore.

  And what in the name of all that was holy—or maybe not—was she wearing? Not ruby slippers, for damn sure. A fitted strapless mini-dress of sleek black feathers, and black leather knee-high lace-up boots. An ornate dagger was strapped to her right thigh. A long black cloak and a sword rested beside her. Deadly in its beauty, the graceful pommel bore four glittering, blood-red garnets entwined with the exact triadic knot as the charm she’d found. The charm that still dangled heavily between her breasts.

  When she touched the blade with a tentative, glowing fingertip, the weapon hummed, and lit up with the same golden fire. She jerked her hand away and the sword returned to normal.

  She swiveled, studying the ravaged landscape. She must have passed out in her brother’s room and was having a nightmare. This is only a nightmare.

  Or… The bottom dropped out of her stomach, and she shivered. Rowan had mentioned a frightening journey. The last thing he’d said was, “See you on the other side.” Maybe whatever had been causing her headaches and hallucinations had actually killed her.

  Circumstantial evidence indicated MacLachlan was the Angel of Death. But at this point, she’d accept even his help. Rowan? She reached out with her thoughts. Hey, MacLachlan, I could use a hand. Are you around?

  Nothing but howling wind.

  Delaney swallowed hard. She’d demanded to follow Connor, and apparently had taken flight into his Xena fantasy.

  Laughter bubbled in her throat. More laughter spilled out, then more. Until her sides ached, and tears poured down her cheeks…and the laughter morphed into sobs. Sitting on the cold, barren ground, alone and terrified, she suspected she wasn’t in fantasy land.

  She was horribly afraid she’d landed in Hell.

  Delaney bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. Suck it up. Sniveling won’t help anybody. Not you, not Connor.

  Thoughts of her brother snapped her out of the funk. If Connor was here, it didn’t matter where here was. Her mission was to find him.

  Swiping the back of her hand across her damp face, she scrambled to her feet. She snatched up the cloak and dragged it around herself, then fastened it at the throat. The opaque fabric, although only marginally warmer, disguised her shimmer from head to toe. When she tugged the hood over her head, she discovered a metal circlet firmly anchored in her hair, like a crown. The front banded low across her forehead, and felt like Celtic knot-work with a quartet of jewels. She’d bet on more garnets.

  Sword next. Clumsy. But someone had left it for her, and she might— heaven forbid—need it. Too bad she didn’t have the vaguest idea how to wield one.

  Delaney discovered a pocket inside the left flap of the cloak the perfect length to stow the sword. It slid in easily. Oddly light and flexible, the sheathed weapon didn’t hamper her movements at all. Okay, I’m in a strange dream world where physics don’t apply. But I’m already wearing the kick-ass outfit, and doing a firefly…so roll with it.

  First priority, locate Connor. What worked before? Closing her eyes, she concentrated her entire focus on her brother.

  With a heavy sigh, she opened them. Of course it couldn’t be that simple.

  “I’m not scared,” she muttered. “I just hope there aren’t any dragons flying around.” Something had burned up the countryside.

  A steep hill loomed on her left. From the top, she’d be able to see into the distance. She trudged through the ash, wary eyes on her surroundings, hand hovering near the sword. Where was the Tin Man when you needed him?

  Or Rowan MacLachlan?

  She gritted her teeth. You did not just go there, Delaney. A delusion wouldn’t save Connor. And she didn’t need a man to rescue her.

  Nearly at the crest of the bluff, she stopped to catch her breath, and heard…rhythmic stomping? Was that marching feet? She crept the rest of the way to the top, using the boulders as cover. About to peek over, she hesitated. If her body was glowing, her face probably was, too. She rubbed ash on her hands, which toned them down a lot. Her face received the same camouflage, and she pulled her hood farther forward. Only then did she dare surreptitiously peer over the edge.

  Her lungs seized. In this place where physics didn’t apply, she could see and hear perfectly from this distance.

  A sinister black granite palace dominated the valley below, its immense courtyard surrounded by iron-spiked granite walls. A large army was assembling inside the perimeter.

  Delaney blinked rapidly. But the illusion didn’t disappear.

  Hundreds of creatures over six feet tall. With distorted facial features and recognizable voices, they walked upright like humans…but they weren’t in the least bit human. Some had gray scales like reptiles with fangs and claws. Some were covered with short spiky hairs, and possessed extra appendages and stingers, like spiders and scorpions. The stench of evil assaulted her, made her gag.

  The creatures erupted into eerie, garbled chanting, and moments later a hulking monster strode out of the palace and stood haughtily behind a glittering black crystal altar engraved with unfamiliar symbols. The creatures went silent, falling on their faces into the ash, prostrate before him.

  Naked and blatantly male, and revoltingly aroused by the adoration, the beast loomed over eight feet high. He had almost human facial features, but like the others, they were ugly and distorted. Black scales covered every inch of undulating muscle. Extraordinarily long arms supported massive hands with razor-tipped yellow claws. A long, segmented tail lashed behind him, displaying a red-barbed stinger. He opened the red slash of his mouth and roared his approval, baring lethal yellow fangs. “Arise.”

  His raspy voice sent primal fear slithering through Delaney. She wrapped her arms around herself. This can’t be real.

  She clung to the thought. I’ll wake up from the nightmare any minute, safe in Connor’s room.

  The army rose to attention as more of their ranks marched out of the palace…guarding a linked line of shuffling, nude prisoners. The terrified captives were human, each one a recognizable individual. But they appeared transparent. Their faint luminescence shone amidst the bleak landscape, reminiscent of jellyfish she’d seen in coastal aquariums. Their bodies were blotched with shadows from bruising torture. Some men, some women, and dear Lord, even several children.

  Then a woman sauntered from the palace’s shadowed depths. She, too, looked human. However, she was solid in form like Delaney, but with no glow on. Long, straight, pale strawberry-blonde hair complemented pure milk-white skin, and man-killer curves were showcased by a practically backless black cat-suit and steel do-me stilettos. She was breathtakingly beautiful—in a sociopathic sort of way.

  The woman was brandishing a whip…and leading Connor by a heavy chain fastened to a collar around his neck, like he was her pet.

  Oh, Connor! Even in this world, he was a prisoner.

  He was transparent like the others, but his clear light shone much brighter. Bile surged into Delaney’s throat. He, too, had been brutally tortured.

  She gripped the rock, fighting the urge to barrel down the hillside and storm the courtyard walls. Right. You and who else against the entire Army of Darkness?

  If this was merely a high-def production of her stressed-out subconscious, it didn’t matter. She’d lead the charge and everything would be fine. She considered the idea. What if this wasn’t all in her head? What if she really was in Hell? Could she take the risk?

  Maybe…if only her own existence were in jeopardy. But she couldn’t chance endangering her brother.

  The woman below provocatively cocked her hips and thrust out her breasts. “Balor, I want this one.” The cruelty in her tone bit colder than the frigid wind. “After all, finders keepers.”

  “I’m not in the mood for
your games, Ceard,” the beast snarled. “He was supposed to be mine. And reported to possess the Aillidh.”

  “Well, since he doesn’t, you won’t miss giving him up.”

  “I’ll need a hundred of the lesser humans to compensate.” The monster gestured at Connor. “Look at him. He’s still superior to an average mortal.”

  “Yes, much more strength and spirit. I’ve invested a lot of time and money hunting him down. Breaking him in will be such fun.”

  “The fuck it will,” Connor spat.

  The woman’s savage laugh rang out. “See?” She pursed full lips in a seductive pout. Her tongue flicked across her lower lip. “I’ll make it up to you.”

  “Indeed, you will.” The beast’s mouth split in a leer that made gooseflesh prickle over Delaney’s skin. “And you’ll regret that promise.”

  He lifted smoldering eyes from the woman to the creatures guarding the captives. “I grow weary of waiting. Begin.”

  Two of them dragged the first man in line to the mammoth black crystal altar and chained him down, spread-eagled. The monster stepped close. “What is your name?” he demanded.

  The terrified man tried to speak, failed.

  “I command forth your name,” the monster growled.

  “P-phillip Ch-chambers.”

  The beast repeated it, using a claw to carve a symbol into the altar.

  Horrified, Delaney stared at the thousands of markings on its surface. Those were all names?

  The monster’s voice rose in a guttural mantra as obscene as the lust on his repulsive face. He drew back one huge, clawed hand, and then thrust it wrist-deep into the prisoner’s chest. The man’s tortured scream ricocheted off the walls and he writhed in agony. The beast propped his other hand on the altar. His muscles pulsed rapidly and he grunted in satisfaction.

  “Stop!” Connor lunged, trying to reach the screaming prisoner, but the woman brutally yanked him back, nearly strangling him with the chain.

  The altar glimmered, flickering rapidly as the victim’s faint internal glow slowly faded.

  Delaney slapped her hands over her mouth and dropped to the ground behind the boulder.

  Oh-God, oh-God, oh-God!

  Behind her, the victim’s screams went on. And on.

  And on.

  After an eternity, they faded to a gurgle.

  The monster’s harsh pants rasped loudly in the dead silence. “Next.”

  Chains rattled. “Your name.”

  “M-martin Knox.”

  New screams.

  She had to get her brother out of there! Delaney pushed to her knees.

  And came face to face with a gigantic raven.

  She recoiled. Froze. The thing was seriously the size of an SUV.

  Now would be a fabulous time to wake up, Delaney.

  She stayed perfectly still as the raven walked closer. C’mon… There’s no place like home…

  She couldn’t stop a wince when the cold, smooth beak stroked her cheek.

  At least the newcomer didn’t seem to want her for lunch. Delaney hitched in a breath. “I saw giant black wings at the window,” she whispered. “Are you the one who brought me here?”

  Obsidian eyes sparkling with intelligence, the raven nodded.

  “Uh…And I’m guessing you would be the Celtic goddess Morrigan in her raven form?”

  A quiet caw.

  Why not? Just roll with it. “Is there a way to rescue my brother and those other captives.”

  Another nod.

  “How?”

  The raven picked up a large rock in her glossy black beak and then flung it to the ground.

  “No offense, but I don’t think throwing rocks at His Ugliness is going to slow him down much.”

  The bird smirked. It picked up a larger rock, swooped, and dropped the second rock onto the first, which broke into pieces.

  “What are you trying to say?” With tortured victims screaming below, she just wanted to rush in and save them.

  She’d once been a victim. Never again.

  Concentrate.

  The sickening image of the monster draining that poor man’s life-force was forever branded into her brain. She gasped. “The altar! It’s some kind of power conduit?”

  A third nod.

  “So…if I find a couple of heavy boulders, you can fly me down there to break the altar, and pick up my brother? Can you carry both of us?”

  Another affirmative caw, proud and sure.

  Delaney shut out all the horrendous “what ifs” as she quickly searched for two boulders weighty enough to do the job. The Bon Jovi song, “Blaze of Glory” tripped through her mind. A comforting slice of real life she could cling to in this whole freak show.

  Singing the refrain bolstered her flagging courage while she heaved boulders onto the raven’s shoulders, with the bird using her beak to assist. Then Delaney cautiously clambered aboard.

  If she was checking out, she’d go out spectacularly, trying to save someone she loved. As Morrigan lifted her magnificent wings and soared into the gray sky, Delaney sang a little louder…and swore she felt the bird laughing.

  The raven climbed, circled, climbed higher. Wind blew Delaney’s hood off and blood rushed to her cheeks. Hair streaming behind her, she gazed down at the panoramic view of the valley speeding past, and adrenaline sizzled through her. Get ready. Blaze of glory!

  Shag me! Rowan’s faint, startled exclamation buzzing in her ears almost made her lose her grip. Delaney? What the bloody hell…you doing?

  Oh, now he showed up? She hated to admit her relief. Interesting you should ask. Because that’s exactly where I am.

  Come again…?

  She strained to hear him through the crackling, tenuous connection. I’m in Hell. You know, butt-deep ashes, power-sucking altars, army of monsters. Only it’s freezing cold!

  Sounds like…Abyss. Nay…cannot be. Get back here, he demanded.

  Yeah, that’s the plan.

  You’re…way over your head…MIA three days.

  Impossible! It’s been three hours at the most!

  Time…not the same in shadow realms. Rowan’s voice faded out, then back in. …your body could very well die. Must find…way back.

  Oh, there’s a newsflash. Climb down off your high horse and help me.

  I cannot. Frustration gritted his reply. The quest…for you alone.

  Then you’re a distraction I don’t need. She booted him out and slammed down a mental blockade. For once, the headache was minimal. Maybe because of the weak connection. Hell must not have a lot of cell towers.

  Morrigan tensed beneath her, and Delaney focused on her goal. She leaned forward as they careened into a steep dive. “Say when.”

  His Ugliness had paused between victims, the altar momentarily vacant. The raven coasted high above the shiny black surface and shrieked a shrill war cry. Delaney looked down into hundreds of startled monsters’ upturned faces and rolled the first boulder off, followed closely by the second.

  Other laws of physics might not function in Hell, but gravity worked fine. Boulders smashed into the crystal, and the altar rent the air with unearthly screams as it burst into shards.

  The beast roared in pain and crumpled to the ground.

  “Yeah!” Delaney yelled. Her dream had just turned awesome.

  A foul mushroom cloud boiled up, the earth rumbling like she’d detonated an atomic bomb. Grinding of stone-on-stone echoed in the valley as the palace and surrounding walls shook, started to topple.

  Shouting monsters bolted in panic. The prisoners dashed for freedom. The raven glided in low and hit a perfect landing in front of her astonished brother, who was fighting against being dragged through the melee by his female jailer.

  Delaney dismounted. Some of the monsters swarmed the raven, who battled viciously, tearing into them with beak and claws.

  The other woman skidded to a halt. Up close, her pale irises weren’t any definable color. “Morrigan?” Those soulless eyes narrowed in astonis
hed hatred, first at the bird, then at Delaney. “You bitch! How—? It’s not possible—”

  Delaney threw back her cloak, and the woman flinched away from the brilliant golden light. “It’s Morgan, bitch.” She drew her sword, and the humming weapon lit up. “And I’m kicking your skanky ass.”

  In spite of her awkward two-handed chop, the gleaming sword cleaved Connor’s chain in one blow. With her second swing, she managed to smack the slut with the flat of the blade and send her flying.

  Delaney snatched her knife from its thigh sheath and thrust the hilt at Connor. “Take this!”

  “Delaney?” He blinked. “How…why are you here? Wearing that?”

  “You’re the Xena fan, you tell me. Snap to it, bro.”

  As he palmed the dagger, his glow brightened. He parried an assault from his left, then pivoted to protect her. “Never thought I’d see you again.”

  “Helluva reunion.” She clumsily poked back a spider critter with gnashing fangs. They seemed to be afraid of her shiny sword. “Now click your heels together and wish us home.”

  She and Connor were way outnumbered. More and more of the monsters swarmed between them and Morrigan. Now would be a great time to send in the dream cavalry.

  The raven screeched another bloodcurdling war cry. Delaney nearly dropped her sword when Uilleann pipes answered, skirling above the din.

  A rag-tag band of translucent, human warriors poured over the broken walls. Dressed in hide breeches, boots, and scarlet mantles, they brandished hand-hewn wooden shields and rough metal swords, knives and spears. Their lights gleamed as brilliantly as hers, but instead of her own gold, or the captives’ clear, they blazed dazzling white.

  Several herded the prisoners outside through jagged fissures in the walls. The rest charged into the fray with fervent yells and bristling weapons.

  Delaney dodged left, batted her sword to deflect a slashing claw, and nearly mowed down the platoon’s big, shaggy blond leader.

  Features stiff with shock, he gasped. “At last!” he exclaimed in a lilting Irish accent. In the middle of life-or-death warfare, he dropped to one knee, fisted his hand over his heart. “My sword. My blood. My life…for my Queen.”