Wolfsbane: 3 (Rebel Angels)

by Gillian Philip

  Iolaire did not move at all, not a muscle of his face, but Seth slipped his mind swiftly inside Iolaire’s anyway. A twist of pain writhed up through his ribcage and he clenched his teeth against it. Iolaire gave him a look of gratitude.

  Jed leaned on his sword. He did not turn to Iolaire or to Seth, but he met Gealach’s cold eyes, then looked back at Laszlo. ‘You talk a lot,’ he said.

  ‘It’s the odds that are giving me pause, you see.’

  Jed sighed and turned his back on Laszlo to walk ten paces back towards Seth. ‘If I don’t kill him,’ he yelled, ‘nobody does.’

  Seth hesitated before nodding.

  ‘Stay out of his mind. You all know fine to stay out of mine.’ Jed turned back. ‘Happy?’

  ‘And the wolf ?’

  Jed rolled his eyes and gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘Seth?’

  Seth clicked his fingers. Branndair’s muzzle curled back from his sharp teeth, but he lay down and lowered his head to his forepaws, growling softly.

  Laszlo’s morale was visibly restored. ‘Now. Where were we, Cuilean? Any last words?’

  ‘Um. Please shut up?’ Jed hacked his blade hard at Laszlo’s neck, and the man dodged and parried, flinging Jed’s blade away. Jed staggered slightly, recovered his footing, and edged round Laszlo. When they came together the noise was explosive, steel against steel.

  Their struggle seemed interminable. Each was as nimble as the other; each knew tricks they hadn’t been born with. Even Seth grew dizzy watching them dodge, duck and lash out, feet flying when swords and dirks didn’t, bodies turning catlike in the air. Seth thought Laszlo had Jed’s head off at one point, till Jed doubled backwards, his body arching impossibly, and sprang back to lash out with his own blade.

  Seth shut his eyes, breathing again. The deep scar on his left palm ached but he could ignore that. Better to hurt there, when Jed’s life was in the balance, than to feel the pain in his heart and lungs.

  There was a time he’d have spat in contempt if anyone had told him he’d be blood brother to any full-mortal, let alone one who used to hate him with his whole being. Love was a funny old thing, especially such an improbable and unexpected love. That brought his thoughts back to Finn, and he felt a fleeting terror for her, but shook it off. She was riding to safety right now, and Rory with her. Seth focused on Jed once more. The sharp ache in his hand felt blunter and he looked sideways at Iolaire, who grinned, his left hand curling with pain. Returning the favour, Seth realised.

  Even two fighters so expert had to draw breath some time. When they locked against each other, breathing hard, Jed’s left hand twisted, forcing Laszlo’s blade up and away with his dirk, but Laszlo parried his thrust and sprang back. They stared coolly at each other.

  When did Jed get so damn good, Seth wondered, and so capably pitiless? He’d been good enough when Seth was training him, but he was infinitely better now. What did I miss and when did I miss it? It was too easy to pay less attention when you trusted someone completely. It was too easy to leave them on their own to get on with life and death, because the love and the trust were absolute. It was too easy to focus on the eddies and currents on the surface, not dive down to see what lay beneath.

  I’ll talk to him, Seth promised himself. Back at the dun. Soon. Tonight.

  Why did I leave it so late?

  I should have listened to Rory.

  With an abrupt yell, Laszlo spun, leaped and crashed down on Jed, who rolled nimbly and slapped the man’s blade away with his own. Scrambling to his feet, he lunged again.

  Seth leaned forward, gripping the roan’s neck. Laszlo was older, but he hadn’t lost his touch. If anything he was wilier, and Seth wouldn’t have liked to place a bet. Realising his teeth were clenched hard, he forced his jaw to relax.

  Jed, Jed. Don’t die.

  And then Seth thought he had, because Jed had closed too tightly to dodge away, dropping his dirk to clutch Laszlo’s sword hand, keeping him anchored to the earth. As Laszlo struggled to get control of his sword back his dirk hacked down at Jed’s neck, but it caught only the side of his skull as Jed dropped to his knees right at Laszlo’s feet and thrust his sword up hard through his navel and into his ribcage.

  Oh, thought Seth. I see.

  Jed stood up, his bloody hand lodged under Laszlo’s breastbone, his other supporting the man in a kind of embrace, and jerked the hilt of his sword once more. Dropping both his weapons Laszlo gave him a wavering smile, a gout of blood choking from his mouth.

  And Laszlo’s lips moved. And Jed’s eyes widened at the whispered words.

  JED

  ‘Cuilean,’ said Iolaire, snapping the bewitched stillness. ‘Cuilean. Come back now.’

  Where had he come from? Jed did not remember Iolaire running to him. He stood with his eyes locked on Laszlo’s, their noses almost touching.

  Still, the sound of his name brought him back from what seemed a long distance. Laszlo was close enough for Jed to feel his breath, his last breath as it rattled out, and the weight of him dragging on the sword was an awful thing.

  Jed did not move. The grin of triumph wouldn’t form on his rigid face. He would have kicked the body, except that his legs trembled and he didn’t trust himself not to stumble. All there was in his throat was bile and pity and disgust, for the man impaled on his sword. For the man gripping its hilt. Intertwined, interchangeable. For a fraction of a second his brain spun, and he didn’t know which he was.

  Then, wrenching his sword out, he stepped back. Laszlo thudded forward, face hitting the earth, the last dead breath thumped out of his lungs.

  ‘I thought–’ His tongue dried.

  ‘I know,’ said Iolaire gently, and Jed thought he probably did.

  He touched Laszlo’s shoulder with the tip of his sword. The man did not stir.

  ‘The guilt wasn’t yours, Jed. You can’t undo what you didn’t do.’ Iolaire shrugged. ‘Conal’s not sulking in his tent, waiting for your apology. He’s dead.’

  ‘So’s Laszlo.’ He was all desolation. ‘So what?’

  Iolaire stepped closer and put a hand to Jed’s bloody face, turning it so that he could look at his eyes. ‘You don’t need to worry about what the Lammyr said. You really don’t.’

  ‘He was me, Iolaire.’ Jed looked straight through his lover. ‘And I’ll be him.’

  A voice cut across them. ‘Iolaire!’

  Gritting his teeth at the ill-timed interruption, Iolaire looked up at Gealach.

  ‘See you, Iolaire. We won’t fight today.’ She nodded to Jed. ‘Thank you, Cuilean.’

  None of the patrol even looked at Laszlo’s lifeless body as they turned, and Gealach didn’t look at Iolaire again, just urged her horse into a canter. It was Cluaran, bringing up the rear on Laszlo’s horse, who hesitated. He didn’t look at Iolaire or Jed. He turned to Seth.

  ‘I’m sorry, Murlainn,’ he said, then hauled the horse around and spurred it to a gallop.

  Seth stared after him for only a moment. Then he swore obscenely, spun the blue roan and rode hard in the opposite direction, Branndair at his heels and Sionnach only a length behind him.

  RORY

  I felt sick as I rode at Finn’s back, and it was nothing to do with the speed of the black horse as it raced across the bleak miles of moor. I’d meant every word I told my father, or I had at the time, but now there was a knot of horrible shame in my stomach, as if they were words I’d regret but never have a chance to take back. Wrapped up in remorse, I almost didn’t notice when the black horse broke stride and Finn stared off to the side. Then she reined to an abrupt halt.

  ‘Stella?’ she said.

  I blinked. ‘Finn? What?’

  Finn was staring up at the rough heathery slope, doubt and confused hope in her face.

  ‘My mother.’ Her voice died, then she rubbed her forehead uncertainly. She yelled up at the empty slope. ‘Eili?’

  I wanted to shake her. Instead I gestured ahead. ‘Eili is there. With Hannah.’

  �
��No, she’s…’ Finn’s voice trailed off, and all she could do was stare at the hillside.

  For a moment I wondered if Finn’s mind had broken unexpectedly loose. The light was dull, heavy clouds massing at the horizon, but the sky above was clear and blue and hot. Still she gazed transfixed at that deserted slope, and I had the shivering sense that she did see someone on the rise of heathery ground. But hard as I peered, I could see no-one.

  ‘But I saw them,’ Finn whispered.

  ‘Finn,’ I told her urgently. ‘Your mother is dead. Ride.’

  ‘Oh. God.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘God. No,’ Finn said. ‘No. Not again!’

  Snapping out of it, she kicked her heels against the black’s flanks, and he snorted and put on speed. ‘Eili!’ she yelled as she raced after the grey horse.

  ‘Finn? What is it?’ I pressed my ear against her back. Her heartbeat was very light and fast.

  ‘It’s too late,’ she said emptily. ‘That’s what it is.’

  A rise of low hills enclosed the shallow valley, concealing the further horizon. The way to the dun followed a narrow defile and a rocky riverbed, dried to a peaty trickle in the heat. Cutting off our way through it was a line of riders. Not the four riders of my father’s patrol, since they lay dead with their horses among the scattered stones. A force of twenty watched our approach in complete and contented silence.

  Eili came to a halt facing the hostile fighters, her swords off her back, her reins knotted on the grey’s neck. Hannah’s chestnut, made uneasy by the grey’s growling snorts, began to back away from it, partly from its own nerves and partly from the pressure of Hannah’s legs and her hands on the bit. Finn rode up the black beside her.

  Turning, Hannah met my eyes, mouthing something I couldn’t make out.

  ‘Hannah wants you both to get out of here,’ said Finn. ‘She’s right.’

  My breath was stuck in my windpipe. ‘They’ll know before we even turn. They’ll cut us off.’

  ‘Block,’ said Finn, ‘both of you block now. Rory. Can you get through the Veil here?’

  ‘I dunno.’ I crushed down the stirrings of panic. ‘We’re so close… I don’t know.’

  ‘Rory, try.’

  I snatched and tugged at the air. ‘Can’t.’

  ‘Got to,’ hissed Finn.

  I clenched my teeth. ‘She knows.’

  ‘Knows what?’

  ‘My limits. Never mind. I’ll do it. Bitch,’ I added under my breath.

  ‘Do it. Then run. They’ll follow but we’ll try to delay them.’ Finn leaned forward and pressed her cheek against the sleek hard neck of the horse. ‘He’ll go with you.’

  I stared at her as she swung a leg over the black’s neck and jumped down. ‘You too?’

  ‘Don’t be silly. Eili’s on her own and I’m not going to leave her.’

  ‘Why not?’ Hate shivered through me.

  ‘Look,’ said Finn, closing her eyes so I could no longer see the fear in them. ‘The longer they’re kept away from the hole, the harder it’ll be for them to find it. Just run as fast and as far as you can. Your father will come for you; you just have to wait for him and not get caught.’ She made it sound so straightforward. ‘Hannah! Go!’

  ‘Come after us, Finn.’ My whisper was desperate. ‘The tear will stay open.’

  Finn said nothing, just turned away, but I could see her trembling. As Hannah scrambled across from the chestnut onto the black’s back, it turned its head to look at her intently, a piercing green light in its eye, nostrils flaring.

  I found and gripped the membrane. The skin of my fingers distorted, whitened, but I forced my hand down through the air. The thing was as unyielding as oilcloth. I gritted my teeth so hard I thought they’d shatter, but the Veil began to rip, jerkily, awkwardly.

  The sense of triumph was bitter. I turned briefly to see Finn draw a knife and walk away towards Eili.

  Then the membrane shimmered and the scene blurred. In less than a second the moor was empty, but for the long scar of a deer fence and a pair of ramblers on the path beyond it, staring at us loose-jawed and bug-eyed.

  FINN

  Had to stay, had to. Couldn’t leave; she couldn’t leave Eili.

  For a savage moment Finn wondered why not. Then she remembered. Because Eili was the love of Conal’s life. Because once she and Finn had been friends, or very nearly. Most of all, because she’d saved Seth’s life. Whatever her twisted motives, she’d let Seth live when she could have let him die.

  Taking a breath to steady her hand, Finn lifted her knife. Two figures walked forward from the line of riders, and stepped delicately across the corpses of Seth’s fighters.

  The face of one of the dead was turned towards her: Eorna. Last night he’d played his fiddle in the great hall; he’d heckled Seth and Jed. He’d told her a bad-taste joke that had made her hoot, and given her a dram of his whisky. And I taught your lover to fight, he’d told her, when he was barely more than a suckling brat. And what a useless, pointless, fusionless shortarse he was! The pride and fondness in his voice were irrepressible.

  Eorna’s lover Caolas would have been on patrol with him, but she was pregnant. Finn shut her eyes.

  She opened them again, to get the brief satisfaction of seeing Kate’s eyes widen in anger as Rory and Hannah disappeared beyond the Veil. They were gone, then, and with them Conal’s horse. She felt a pang of regret about the loss of him, fierce and strong and a killer in a fight, but he’d be more use to Rory, and he’d stay with the boy. Finn knew the kelpie’s strange mind and he did not have the demonic fickleness of Seth’s roan.

  Besides, there were so many of them, she thought as she cast her nervous gaze along the line, and she didn’t want Conal’s horse to die. She hoped Seth could retrieve his bridle later somehow, and return it to the sea. Not her problem anyway. Not any more.

  Eili had dismounted to face her enemies, and she walked a pace forward. Finn strode to her side and stood with her, their backs half-turned to each other.

  ‘Is this anything to do with you?’ Finn hoped Eili was covering her. She hoped the woman wasn’t about to slide a knife between her ribs.

  ‘How can you ask me that?’

  ‘Oh, come on,’ said Finn witheringly.

  A long and painful pause. ‘All right, then. No, it’s nothing to do with me.’

  Kate stopped twenty feet away, the anger smoothed off her features. ‘It’s everything to do with you, Eili. You’ve been so distracted, you and your little friend Hannah! She arrived at such an opportune time! Not that that was much of a coincidence. Herding her and the Bloodstone together took all of twelve hours. They were – what is it the full-mortals say? – they were gagging for each other!’

  ‘Eili,’ whispered Finn, ‘don’t listen. Don’t listen.’

  ‘Do, Eili,’ called Kate. ‘I want you to know what you’ve done for me. After all, I was afraid you were close to retrieving your sanity till Hannah turned up. But I needn’t have worried. Thanks to the girl, you lost all your perspective along with your reason. You stopped even guarding yourself !’

  Eili breathed hard through her nose.

  Kate smiled a little cat-smile. ‘How funny that Rory turned into such a rebel, and how apt! How inevitable. A bad little rebel like his father!’ She looked intently at Finn, twisting her copper hair idly between elegant fingers. ‘You know, Fionnuala, if I’d had him from a baby I’d have let him live. The boy could have lived a long happy life with me. But his father chose to defy me, chose to bring Rory up himself. Now Rory’s loyalties are fixed, so when I’m finished with the boy he’ll have to die. And Seth does love that boy, doesn’t he, Fionnuala? More than life itself, I think! No wonder Rory started running off like that! Is Seth’s love so very oppressive, Finn? So suffocating?’

  ‘You wouldn’t know.’ Finn licked her dry lips. ‘You wouldn’t know love if it poked you in the eye.’

  Kate sighed. ‘Now Seth will pay for his filthy heresy. He’ll p
ay for what he did all those years ago when he dared put a knife to my throat. He’ll pay with your life, and Rory’s, and the life of every man, woman and child in his dun. And after quite a long time, he’ll pay with his own. By that time he’ll be begging me to put him out of his misery, and I’ll be delighted to take my time obliging him.’

  Shudders ran down Finn’s spine. She tried to suppress them but she couldn’t. ‘Jed will kill your Laszlo.’

  ‘Fionnuala, he already has!’ Kate closed her eyes dreamily. ‘Poor tiresome Laszlo: couldn’t take a hint. I’ve a better champion now, a more ruthless one, and to cap it all he’s one of us.’ She wore a distant smile. ‘Jed has done me a favour. And now I’ll have plenty of time to deal with Jed! Seth’s blood brother! Oh, bliss. Goodness, they’re wasting time they haven’t got, admiring Laszlo’s corpse.’ Her eyes snapped open. ‘By the way, Udhar, I’m curious. Why didn’t you try to kill Laszlo yourself ? A fine killer like you! Leaving all your vengeance to Jed!’

  ‘Not all of it.’ Eili spoke through her teeth.

  ‘Of course; how silly of me. The torment of Murlainn. Oh! Such remorseless hate! I love an obsessive! And I’m grateful to you, I truly am. I couldn’t have done it without you. I’d make you my Captain of captains, if I wasn’t going to kill you.’

  ‘Goodness.’ Eili’s voice was smooth but there was an undercurrent of something awful that made Finn’s chest clench for her. ‘I feel a little…’

  Kate tilted her head sweetly at Eili.

  ‘Used,’ finished Eili on a breath.

  ‘Quite. Well, it’s nice to chat but a little pointless,’ said Kate. ‘I’m impressed with Rory’s talent, by the way. He’s better than I thought and I’ve made a minor misjudgement, but nothing we can’t fix. You know, Fionnuala, I always have a contingency plan.’ She beckoned the dark bearded man who stood a sword’s length behind her. ‘Off you go, Alasdair. He’s torn the Veil, the little vandal. Behind them, thirty feet or so that way. He can’t have gone far. Bring him back, please.’