by Lily Velez
“You mean the ones you lot believe we lured there and then sacrificed for our devil-worshipping rituals?”
The mayor’s face reddened. “I beg your pardon?”
“We don’t have to mince words here, Mayor O’Sullivan. My brothers and I are well aware of the talk that goes around in this town.”
The man shifted in his seat, the red on his face deepening. He cleared his throat. “The good people of Rosalyn Bay may have their misgivings about your family, but I assure you that as mayor of this town, I’m mayor to all. Discrimination against others isn’t the least bit in my nature.”
“Of course not,” I said. I nodded to Lucas, who rose from his seat and drifted to the office door with a casual whistle. He clicked the door shut.
“Now wait just a minute—” The mayor started to stand, but I leaned forward and caught his gaze.
“Sit down,” I commanded.
He blinked, stupefied, but he sat down.
Lucas, still whistling, moved to closing the blinds of the windows that looked out into the lobby. Maeve, now on her feet, watched on, her fingertips worrying at the beads of her eyeglass chain, her other hand gripping the phone on her desk should she need to contact the authorities. Lucas yanked on another string, and the blinds slapped shut, making Maeve disappear.
I turned back to the mayor. I stood, planting my hands on his desk as I bore my eyes into his. “You’re going to pick up that phone right now and call the contractors you hired for the demolition of Elizabeth Connelly’s cottage. You’re going to tell them you’ve cancelled the plans. You’re going to order that they leave the premises immediately. And then you’re never going to do so much as think about any Connelly-owned land in this town ever again.”
The green in the mayor’s eyes swirled, his pupils dilating as I pushed magic into my words and bewitched him. The Ó Conghalaigh clan was the only one of the remaining seven that claimed direct descent from a druid who’d also once been a king. As such, our magic had always been the most powerful, and every generation, the rare ability to bend the will of the Sightless graced a witch or two. It was a frowned-upon practice but not altogether forbidden. Sometimes, the Sightless left you no other choice.
Once the words were spoken, the mayor, in a daze, picked up his phone and did just as I’d directed. In less than a minute, it was done.
“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“No, it wasn’t,” the mayor replied, his voice low and thin, as if speaking in his sleep.
“You’ll feel like yourself again in a few minutes. Once you come to, you won’t remember the reason for this house call of ours. If anyone asks, you’ll tell them you had a good, wholesome chat with the two of us about possibly sponsoring the school’s rugby team.”
“I understand,” the man said, still staring off into space.
Lucas and I filed out of the office. Maeve gasped at our sudden exit, clutching at something behind her blouse. A crucifix most likely. I couldn’t imagine how she’d react if she discovered the much-loved Father Nolan was a witch just like us.
“Thank you, Maeve, love,” Lucas said, pilfering a few powdered donuts for his troubles. He winked at her, and it leached the color straight from her face.
Outside, we passed under the Founder’s Day banner, which the laborers had finished hanging. It billowed in the breeze in loud flaps, as if to flaunt itself in our faces. Heat simmered in my veins, but I waited until we rounded a corner before freeing the magic burgeoning in my chest.
The moment we were out of sight, I let go. Someone called out in alarm almost instantly, the only indication that I’d struck the bull’s-eye. I fought the urge to double back and have a glimpse of the spectacle for myself, to see the flames eating at the banner with an insatiable hunger.
Lucas tutted. “I see those anger management sessions Coach Stewart ordered are really doing wonders for you.”
Witches never used magic in front of the Sightless. At least not blatantly. It was strictly forbidden among our kind. The last thing a witch wanted to do was attract the attention of The Black Hand.
Miraculously, despite being pretty sure what my brothers and I were, the townspeople of Rosalyn Bay had never called in the infantry. I didn’t know if it was because they feared Elizabeth’s retribution or if it was because they simply didn’t know witch hunters actually existed in our world.
Regardless, I worked my jaw for a few moments before finally making the fire abate. In my mind’s eye, I saw one of the lampposts blow out, and more outcries told me my magic had landed once again. Let the people think the fire had been electrical. As angry as Rosalyn Bay made me, I’d be damned if I was going to be the reason our luck in this town ran out.
It was when we reached the SUV a short while later, following Lucas’s stop for takeaway, that the piercing shriek filled the air, so deafening I had to plug my ears. The sky was overcast and it had begun to rain, but I still saw the blur of shadows zip past us overhead, streaking across the sky as fast as a comet.
“What the hell was that?” Lucas exclaimed.
My stomach curdled as I watched the shadow become a small speck in the distance. I knew exactly what it was. One of The Vanquished, yet another prisoner from the forsaken lands come to wreak havoc in Rosalyn Bay.
And if we didn’t stop it quickly enough, there’d be a death toll on our hands.
20
Scarlet
I stood before a tribunal, my hands shackled before me in heavy, cold manacles that emitted a loud jangle with every move. My bare toes curled against the ground, as if trying to find purchase should I need to flee for my life. Not that I would’ve been able to. My ankles were shackled together as well.
To complete the satire, I was still in my ball gown, its massive skirt ballooning out around me like a church bell. I imagined the resounding gongs it would’ve released into the air, the devoted masses it might’ve summoned. Unfortunately, not even their prayers could save me now.
My only comfort came in Jack’s presence beside me. He was restrained in like form.
Look at us, I thought. A modern-day Bonnie and Clyde. Except that particular story hadn’t ended well at all, had it?
My stomach clenched, and I fought back against the nausea clawing up my throat.
Morrígan arrived.
She was a nightmare incarnate. She’d changed into a form-fitting dress darker than tar, its sequins like snakeskin against her body. The collar of the dress was fashioned from crow feathers. They stood up in sharp angles, brushing against the pillar of her long, pale neck, caressing a jawline as sharp as a knife. A lone spark of color emanated from her person. It came from a large, teardrop-shaped ruby she wore around her neck, the color swirling and flashing with soft light, as if it were a window looking out into a lightning storm.
Morrígan sat on a throne far grander than the one in Kai’s throne room. Far grander, and far more gruesome. It was composed entirely of skulls and bones. The crow that had been perched upon Morrígan’s shoulder earlier cawed from its post atop the throne’s back, the notes ominous, each one echoing throughout the chamber.
Hear ye, hear ye, the bird seemed to announce. Our goddess has arrived.
The bride of war, of death.
My heart shuddered. I ordered my body to stay upright, for my knees not to buckle under the weight of everything. It was impossible not to feel like a gladiator in the Coliseum about to be fed to wild lions. Hundreds of spectators surrounded us, gods and goddesses, the Dark Fae, and other creatures for which I had no name. They filled the amphitheater seats of the vast room, looking on with hungry eyes that glowed in the shadows.
Behind Morrígan’s throne, seven robed figures sat, their chairs arranged in a crescent shape, each figure wearing a white, beaked mask like the one plague doctors had once worn during the Middle Ages. A chilling jury.
“Bring forth the demon,” Morrígan demanded. Her voice was low, firm. Her gaze never left me, nor did the pleased smirk sitting at the edge of h
er mouth falter.
A moment later, armored guards stormed into the chamber, Kai between them, the demon also in shackles. They clearly meant to drag him along, but he wrenched his arms free of their hold, smoothing back his inky black hair before he tipped his chin up and strode forward of his own accord. His ribbons of smoke curled around him possessively, trailing up and down his body like wolves stalking their territory to ward off predators. He came to a stop on my other side, but he didn’t acknowledge me, as if I weren’t there at all. I couldn’t begin to guess at his thoughts, his face an unreadable mask.
“Does he have a name?” Morrígan asked the guards.
“Milady, he gave his name as Kai.”
“Prince Kai,” the demon corrected.
I cut a quick look at him, my eyes just about bulging. Really? He meant to get into it with a goddess over formalities? When we stood as prisoners at her mercy?
Morrígan’s smirk trembled, though, as if she held back laughter. “Oh, my,” she said. “We have a prince in our midst, do we?”
Her rapt audience chuckled. There was a spark in Kai’s eyes as a muscle twitched in his jaw.
Please keep your mouth shut, I prayed.
“Kai…” In one graceful move, Morrígan stood. She held out a finger, and her crow swooped down to perch atop it. She stroked its ebony feathers. “It’s coming to me now, where I’ve heard that name before. You’re the Dark Lord’s bastard son, aren’t you?”
Kai drew himself up, his face like stone. He didn’t respond.
Morrígan was unfazed by his silence. She descended the steps of the dais and sauntered to Kai until she was right before him, her fingers still caressing the crow’s plumage. “You poor creature,” she said. “Yes, I’ve heard all about you. The lowest-born in your litter. After your pureblooded siblings claimed their stakes in the forsaken lands, you were left with mere scraps. Hardly a kingdom at all, wouldn’t you say? No, my sweet, disillusioned demon, you aren’t a prince at all.”
She raised her voice, addressing her audience. “Though I suppose in their minds, the low-born all wish to think themselves kings and queens, do they not?”
More laughter. Kai, miraculously, managed to muzzle himself, though I could see the storm brewing in him by the way he worked his jaw, by the way the veins in his neck were so taut I thought they’d snap.
Then, in an instant, he remembered himself, and the tension eased away at once as he pasted on a smile. A spiteful smile, a rancorous smile, but I knew I couldn’t hold a lack of acting prowess against him at a time like this.
“Let’s move on with our proceedings, shall we? Demon, undo the glamour you’ve placed on these two co-conspirators of yours. And before you waste your breath insisting that you’ve never seen them before in your life—” This just as Kai had opened his mouth to speak. “—I’d like to show you something.”
After setting the crow on her shoulder, she held out her hand, and a guard stepped forward to present her with an item. It was some kind of trinket on a silver chain. Kai’s face blanched.
“You recognize this amulet, don’t you?” Morrígan’s smile was like a cold kiss of death. “Of course you do. Witch hunters in the world of man wear them. They trap your kind with them, imprison demons for ages like jinn in bottles. Shall we put this particular amulet to the test, or will you do as you’re asked?”
For a terrible moment, I thought Kai would defy her, his eyes hardening to flint. Thankfully, his survival instincts kicked in, and he raised one hand to snap.
Gasps of astonishment. Our spectators stared on, aghast, murmuring to one another in hurried, heated words.
I felt no different, of course. Without Kai’s mirror, I perceived myself the same way I always did. Our Otherworldly audience, however, saw me and Jack as we truly were. They saw us as mortals.
Throughout it all, Morrígan stared at us, the self-satisfaction never leaving her face. “Much better,” she said. “Now we come to the part where one of you attempts to explain your grievous actions against this court.”
My gaze slid to Kai
“No need to collaborate amongst yourselves,” Morrígan said. “Your guilt was confirmed long before you ever stepped foot into Nightfell. Do you see the jurors that sit behind me? Each one is gifted with magic that benefits my kingdom. The prophet among them saw your crime in the runes days ago.”
I looked from juror to juror in turn, wondering who had been the one to see us coming. Not that it mattered. Even without the forecast of future events, Jack and I had been caught red-handed with the decoy sword in our possession, mere minutes after Kai’s diversion.
Morrígan had wanted us to break into the treasury. She’d wanted us to grab the sword like rats rushing to the bait on a trap, never expecting the snap of a death blow. Why? Did it give her some sort of sick pleasure? Did she enjoy toying with trespassers, parading them before her guests before dealing out punishment?
“Do you have something to say, girl?” Morrígan’s black eyes sank into me like bayonets. They stabbed the core of my being. My lips parted, but my throat was desert dry, as if I’d swallowed handfuls of sand.
“Do you know the penalty for the crime you’ve committed?” Morrígan asked. Her crow’s beady eyes stayed on me. It cocked its head and let out a haunting caw that raised the hair on my arms. “It isn’t death. Death would be far too kind a sentence. What I have in mind would see you crying out for mercy, begging for it like a dog.”
“And what would Brigid have to say about that?” The words flew out of me before I could think better of them, before I could even register that my ability to speak had returned. In my peripheral vision, I saw both Jack and Kai whip their heads in my direction, shocked no doubt that I’d dared to reveal my identity. Even Kai’s smoke trails seemed to share the sentiment, coming to abrupt halts all around his body.
It wasn’t that Morrígan’s words didn’t frighten me. They did. A part of me wanted to crawl into a dark corner and cower. But another part of me, even now, rallied itself and refused to fold. That part was what gave me the courage to straighten myself, my chains clanking together, and meet Morrígan’s eyes. Who I was, what I was, was the only card I had left to put on the table. And the time to show my hand had come.
“Brigid?” Morrígan’s laugh felt like blisters. “What power does Brigid hold in a court where I reign?”
Though the goddess in question was notably absent from tonight’s fête, the very uttering of her name drew interest from our spectators, who once again murmured amongst themselves, leaning forward in their seats as if pulled by invisible marionette strings.
My newfound boldness propelled me forward. “I can’t imagine she’d take too kindly to you harming one of her Daughters in any way.”
Stunned silence.
Morrígan regarded me, speechless, as if I’d robbed her of her voice. Then she snatched one of my arms, the crow shooting into the air with a caw, and she passed a hand over my skin, murmuring an incantation in a language I didn’t recognize. Brigid’s runes woke to life instantly, blazing in a phosphorescent glow.
The din of the audience reached a sudden crescendo as a buzz of disbelief overcame those gathered. I, meanwhile, released a rush of breath. I’d worried that magicless as I was, the runes wouldn’t reveal themselves. Apparently, though, it didn’t matter if my magic was bound within me. I was still Marked by a goddess, and that was one thing Alistair couldn’t take away.
“Order!” The command came from one of the masked jurors, his voice like rocks grating against each other. “There will be order in this court.”
Morrígan’s eyes were poisonous slits. Her grip on my arm was relentless. I resisted the urge to cry out in pain, even as it felt like she might crush my very bones. “You think I won’t carve you up like a boar simply because my sister has claimed you as her own?”
“My queen,” began the same juror who’d just spoken. “By virtue of the Accords—”
“I’m well aware of what the Accords di
ctate,” Morrígan snapped. “I was there when the damnable things were written. Nonetheless, this mortal has trespassed against me and my court, and she must be sufficiently punished. Was it my sister who sent you on this fool’s errand, girl?”
It was jarring, Morrígan’s transformation. It was only minutes ago that she’d been the cool, composed sovereign making sport of us. Now I saw a glimmer of the notorious savagery. The eyes of a huntress pinned me in place as she all but bared her teeth at me.
“How distasteful,” she hissed. “Does Brigid think herself my better, so above me that she sends a frail, petty creature to do her bidding in her stead? But then, my sister has always whored out her favor to you mortals, insignificant, filthy insects that you are.”
The insult didn’t bruise. What hurt more was the realization that Kai had been right, that Morrígan truly did hate us, that it would please her to see the Dark Lord make loyal subjects out of mankind. As such, I definitely couldn’t divulge the truth of why I needed the sword.
Morrígan pushed past me and slinked down the length of the chamber. When her dress’s snakeskin sequins glinted in the light, I thought of a boa constrictor coiling around its prey again and again until the kill was made. Her crow descended from the shadows above and alighted on her shoulder.
Morrígan addressed her congregation of guests. “Who among you, when you have called upon Brigid to stand beside you as an ally in war, has received only silence in return? Who among you has been again and again slighted by a goddess who cares more for the brief, trifling lives of her mortal devotees than she does her own kind?”
The energy in the room heightened. The air became heavy, tense, festering like a lingering sickness. Dark Fae bared their sharp teeth, beasts snarled, the other gods and goddesses nodded in agreement or threw vicious looks in my direction. I stepped back and closer to Jack.
“But when you required armies to defeat your enemies in the Great Wars, who was it that sent legions to you, ready to fight to the death?”
