“However that may be,” Gad says, releasing me at last, “I don’t think her partner has the same hallowed status she professes for herself.”
Cradling my already swelling cheek, I steal another glance at Gale. But the boy hasn’t moved an inch, as if turned to stone, and seems completely unaware of the threat looming over him.
“I don’t see what business it is for a couple of body snatchers like you to think at all,” I say before I can think better of it.
The kick happens so quickly I don’t even feel the pain until I’m lying flat on the ground, holding onto my stomach, unwanted tears streaming down my face.
Gad lets out a low laugh. “So much bark for an edentate[3] creature such as yourself. Maybe I should make sure you look the part.”
“Gadreel…,” the demon named Az says. But the warning comes out more as a plea, and I know that this time, nothing’s going to stay Gad’s hand as he bashes my teeth in.
Then, from nowhere, a loud, keening wail rends the air, drawing closer.
“What the—” Gad starts.
Banshee?
As if in answer to my silent call, the banshee bursts into view at the bottom of the hill, her grey cloak barely noticeable against the equally grey landscape. I feel a rush of gratitude towards this ever-faithful Fey, who always throws herself in harm’s way to protect me.
But the banshee doesn’t stop to face my captors, and I watch her, stunned, as she bullets away again.
A few seconds later, I understand why, as screaming, half-naked men tear across the landscape in hot pursuit, bone maces held high, vengeance burning in their crazed eyes. My mouth drops open as I recognize them for the group of demons who attacked us when we first reached the hills. All bar the one I accidentally drowned in tar. Kaede mentioned people could be reborn here, and even Gale alluded to it, but the reality of it didn’t hit me until now.
I mentally shake myself. I needed a distraction, I’ve got one. It’s time to act.
Before Gad or Az can see me, I grab a fist-sized stone and hurl it at the quickly retreating men, willing the projectile to reach at least one of them. Something inside me lets loose, turning my vision momentarily ashen. Then the rock strikes the last man’s head, hurtling him straight into the guy in front.
Bingo.
As one, the group of demons swings around to face the new threat. It doesn’t take them long to spot us, and, with renewed shouts of anger, they rush up the hillside to fall upon Az and Gadreel in a frenzied swarm.
Now.
I lurch to my feet, meaning to grab Gale and run away, but my legs give out before I can take two steps. Using my power to draw the demons over has wiped me out.
“Careful,” Gale whispers, catching me before I hit the ground.
“Gale?” I slur. “You OK?”
“Lean into me,” the boy says.
I let Gale half-drag, half-carry me down the rocky slope, trying to move as fast as I can. But I’m too dizzy still, and when I glance back at Gad and Az, I find the two of them finishing off the last of the demented men with practiced ease, looking almost bored.
My stomach heaves, and I trip Gale up in my attempt to avoid my own vomit, sending us both sprawling.
“Sorry,” I hiccup.
“Come on,” Gale says, urging me back to my feet.
I reach for his extended hand, when the hairs at the back of my neck suddenly stand up. Everything’s gone quiet. Then I catch sight of Gad, striding over at a leisurely pace.
“Go,” I tell Gale urgently.
“Not without—”
Gad’s footsteps speed up.
“GO!” I shout, shoving Gale back.
Gale hesitates for another split second, then nods. “I’ll come back for you,” he says.
Then, sparing me a final glance, he runs away.
◆◆◆
“I can do this,” I whisper, willing myself to stay strong.
But hope is a very expensive commodity down here, and I’m quickly running out of it. Especially when I’ve got two insanely strong demons on my back. Literally.
“Someone’s coming,” Az says, shifting on top of me so that my lungs are further compressed.
I breathe in shakily, expecting to see Carman’s feathery dress swirl up the hill, her hard-set eyes boring into me with all the hatred a demon can harbor. A shadow detaches itself against the nearest hill, long and threatening, before shrinking back down again. Then the edge of a red hat tipped low over a half-melted face comes into view, barely reaching Gad’s waist.
“Nibs?” I squeak out, twisting around to get a better look.
The clurichaun shoots me a glare that tells me all about how pleased he is to meet me again, then looks at my captors.
“How much?” he growls.
Gad holds up his left hand, fingers splayed.
Nibs shakes his head. “Too much.”
Wrong answer. Gad’s beautiful face splits into another one of his cruel smiles and he holds up two more fingers with his right.
“Take it or leave it, swine,” Gad says, “or I’ll make sure you never see this one again.”
My jaw unhinges itself as I finally get what they’re doing. “Are you bartering for me?” I ask.
“Shut up, dunghill,” Nibs spits at me. He flicks the edge of his hat up, putting his disfigured side in full display. “I told ya five was too much, what makes ya think I’ll give ya more?”
A thin laugh escapes Gad’s lips. He leans dangerously close to the clurichaun. “We know what she is,” he says coldly. “And we know you can’t afford to lose her.”
“If ya really wanna get yer ticket out of here, ya’d give her over quick, and for free,” Nibs drawls out. “Now, I was originally willing to give ya three bags’ worth, but since ya’re making me waste my time—and ya know how much I hate that—I’ll bring it down to two. One for each of ya.”
Nibs’s distended smile makes me cringe, but it seems to do the job, for I feel Az’s crushing weight finally lift.
“Here thee are, sweetheart,” Az says, grabbing me around my already creaking ribs and gingerly setting me back up on my feet. “And please do excuse my impropriety, but circumstances being what they are…”
“Sure,” I wheeze out, as Nibs pulls out two pouches of tinkling coins and hands them over to Gad. “It’s been real lovely.”
I grimace as my stomach twists viciously on itself at the small lie, garnering a sad smile from the large demon.
“I can tell thy words aren’t felt, but I appreciate thy attempt at alleviating my sin,” he says. “Mayhap, under other circumstances, our meeting would have been friendlier.”
“OK, enough,” Nibs says, thankfully batting Az away from me, “we ain’t got no time for any of yer awkward wooing, bozo. And you”—he flicks his head at me—“follow me.”
Without a hesitation, I limp after the clurichaun, Gad’s cold laugh pursuing me like an awful nightmare. Nibs may be half my size, but I struggle to keep up with him.
“Thanks for that,” I say, wheezing. “Don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t come over to help me.”
Nibs suddenly stops.
“What is it?” I ask, the smoke from the draugar-making cauldron so thick around us that it makes everything hazy.
“What were you even thinking?” Nibs barks, jabbing me in the stomach with his tiny finger.
“I’m sorry,” I say, stung, “but did I miss something? Aren’t you the one taking me to Carman? If I recall correctly, last I saw her, she was intent upon killing me.”
The clurichaun snorts. “If she’d wanted you dead, ya pea-brained fatwit, ya’d be dead.”
“Why does she want me alive then?” I ask, fear and excitement making my skin tingle. If I can get him to spill the beans now, I could move onto the next part of my plan without having to even deal with the witch. Besides, Nibs isn’t a bad sort, or Arthur would never have worked with him. Surely there’s a part of him that wants to stop Carman too. “She’s got
what she wanted,” I insist, “Hell open, demons everywhere…”
But Nibs clams up immediately. “Nothin’ fun, I can promise ya that,” he mutters, forcing me to get moving again. Straight, I realize with some alarm, for the army of draugar.
“Still better than that Gad guy, right?” I say, unwilling to let go of the thought that Nibs might still help me.
“That Gad guy?” Nibs repeats with barely contained anger. “Do ya know what Gadreel is known for? War! And ya go an’ get yerself captured by him! Do ya even realize what he could’ve done to ya?”
“I thought it was Lucifer who started the whole war thingy,” I say, peeved at his sudden outburst.
Nibs lets out a humorless chuckle. “Fool,” he says, pulling out a dented flask from his jacket. “Ya should’ve stayed away, instead of putting yer nose where it doesn’t belong, as usual. Better yet, ya should’ve taken that silly friend of yers and found another way to get outta here.”
I suddenly feel very tired, a weariness that’s due to more than the draining experienced after using my powers. My plan to infiltrate Carman’s ranks seems so foolish now that the adrenaline has left my body. “Can’t you just…let us go?” I ask.
His only response is to grab my arm and resume our march.
Gradually, we wend our way through the ranks of stock-still draugar, the stink of their putrefying flesh mixing with that of the cauldron’s acrid fumes. Even a couple hundred feet away from it, I can feel the waves of heat radiating from the bonfire, the Pair Dadeni probably brewing more undead soldiers for Carman’s army.
There’s a loud rumbling, as of a gathering storm, and Nibs suddenly drops to a knee. I jump as a dark figure lands in our midst, kicking up a cloud of dust and ash. Heart hammering, I find myself unable to look away as a chiseled face framed by lustrous black hair emerges, inky eyes meeting my own.
“It took you long enough to find me, dear,” Carman says unctuously. Then her face breaks into a tight smile, and I feel myself go weak with fear. “Welcome to my Demesne.”
Chapter 8
My stomach feels like it wants to crawl out of my throat, along with my drumming heart. Too soon. I’m not ready to face her yet. All my beautiful plans seem so stupid now.
“I can smell her on you,” Carman says, taking a long whiff of my hair. “Even all the way down here.”
“W-who?” I stutter.
“Your mother.” Carman prods my chin up, forcing me to look at her. “Do you think she’ll come here to save you?”
“W-why would she?” I ask, hating how much my voice is shaking. “She’s n-not even m-my real m-mother.”
Carman bares her teeth at me. “I’m not speaking of that low-life human, but of your begetter, she who has already interfered so many times before to shield you.”
I exhale sharply, shock momentarily making me forget everything else. “What?”
I catch the hateful gleam in Carman’s eyes, before she turns it into a terrifyingly kind look. “I, too, know what it is to be rejected by my own progenitors,” she says. Her fingers gently comb my hair back. “The hurt, the confusion, the loss…the anger.”
She says this last word so softly, I can barely hear her. I remain as still as possible, afraid the smallest movement is going to trigger her, and she’ll rip my throat out.
“And when you confront them with the facts,” Carman continues, her face closing up again at some distant, hateful memory, “they pretend they always cared. That it was all for our sake.” Her cheeks dimple with another smile that makes me shiver despite the heat. “But we know better—and we’re not afraid to show them the error of their ways.”
She tenderly pats my cheek, and I catch Nibs’s shudder behind her.
“Come,” Carman says. “Let us prove to your mother she’s no longer needed.”
I glance at Nibs, sure that my panic is showing through, but there’s nothing I can do except to follow as Carman carves a way through the draugar army, straight for the far demon city walls. My thoughts are a jumbled mess I can’t seem to untangle—I have what I wanted, I’ve managed to attach myself to Carman, but what now?
I barely notice our slowing down, and it’s not until Carman finally stops and places her hand on my shoulder that I realize we’ve crossed the entire plain.
I crane my neck up, blinking blurrily at the megalithic wall towering hundreds of feet over us, its top lost in wreaths of mist. Snaking its way up its side is a narrow, rail-less staircase, guarded by a dozen demons. The men watch us come with slitted eyes, dark scales rippling with unease.
“Now pay very close attention to what I’m about to say,” Carman says as we climb the first step. “I want you to know what you’re going to help us achieve.”
Her hand cleaves the air sideways, and the nearest guard tips forward, holding his neck. We all watch as the demon gurgles his last breath at our feet, dark ichor[4] pooling around his thrashing body. Then, all at once, the other sentries throw themselves at their fallen comrade.
I jump back as one of the demons snarls, fangs glistening with yellowing saliva, before snapping his jaws shut over another guard’s arm and ripping it off. The other guard howls in pain, then pulls himself away, holding onto his severed stump, jealously eyeing the frenzy.
“Look at them, fighting each other for a piece of scrap,” Carman says contemptuously. “And to think they once fought side by side, fearful warriors in the greatest War of all.”
There’s a loud crack and another demon limps away, giving up. I swallow hard, feeling queasy as the fight redoubles in fury. Finally, one of the last demons standing lets out a loud yelp, and all but one of the guards pull away from the dead sentry’s remains.
“This is what this place has reduced them to,” Carman continues, as the winner crouches over the lifeless body.
The demon hooks his claws beneath the corpse’s chin and yanks the severed head back to expose his torn throat. Then, with a victorious gloat, he reaches inside the dead guard’s trachea to pull out a long, oval stone.
An ogham, I realize with a jolt.
Nauseated, I look away, but Carman grabs the back of my neck, and forces my head around.
“Watch,” she says, as the champion lets out a victorious bellow. “Do you think it fair that they be forced to spill this precious blood when all they ever dreamed of was their own freedom?”
The winner’s already eyeing the other two injured guards with cupidity, gauging their strength.
“They made their choice,” I say feebly. Besides, I want to add, you’re the one who started this fight.
Carman chuckles softly. “They never wanted to leave their home,” she says, “just to make a few alterations to the rules. Make them more…fair.”
“And killing thousands of innocents to get that back is fair?” I ask.
“There is no such thing as innocence. Not when, from the very moment we are conceived, we are prey to desires—free will or no. I know you believe my quest to be vile, an attack on humans who have not done a thing against us. But their ancestors did, and the sins of the parents now reside with their children.
“Besides, I have observed these humans you so cherish, and have found them to be but parasites who abuse their current status of superiority to destroy the very world they inhabit. I’m simply hurrying the process along.”
“How can you say that?” I ask. “Not everyone’s like that! There are plenty of people fighting to preserve—”
“Too little, too late,” Carman says. “They were given the keys to a beautiful, bountiful world, and they raped it in the name of progress, and cupidity. They failed in their guardianship.
“At least, when we Fey ruled the earth, we made sure balance was present, encouraging procreation or culling populations as needed. No exceptions.”
“Who are you to judge who deserves to live or die?” I ask. “What right did you have to decide of such matters, what justice?”
“Justice is a matter of point of view,” Carman says. “Unadul
terated obedience from one’s slaves is ‘just’ in the eyes of the master, not so in that of the serf who’s been sent to jail at the former’s orders. Wouldn’t you agree?”
I’m about to contradict her, but snap my mouth shut instead. She’s no longer talking about these demons’ rebellion against Heaven, but of my imprisonment by Irene and the Order for fear of what my powers could do.
“A coup is far from the ‘little change’ you mention,” I force myself to say. “All you’re doing is imposing your vision of things upon others.”
“Such is the way the world works,” Carman says, forcing me to resume our climb up the demon city wall. “The strongest always rule, no matter the form. Even your famous democracy is but an illusion.
“It is always those with the most money—your current weapon of choice—who control the outcome of any vote to their liking, whether through purchasing voices, having them removed, or swaying the public opinion through lies and propaganda. Propaganda such that all Fey creatures are to be exterminated, for instance.”
“But getting rid of all humans isn’t the way to go,” I say.
Carman’s laugh makes my hairs stand on end. “Indeed? Perhaps, then, it is in your interest to rise to the top, so that you can make sure your vision can come to fruition instead.”
“You’re saying I should take power away from you?”
“Take, no, but there’s always room for negotiation when a relationship is mutually beneficial.”
“There is?”
Carman smiles ever so prettily. “Come, and we can discuss the terms.”
Discuss the terms. I can’t believe I’m discussing anything with a known-psycho witch who, until recently, wanted me dead. Worse, I’m finding it increasingly hard to come up with valid counter-arguments. What Carman’s saying has logic. Worser, as Gareth would say, they hold truth. But that doesn’t make her right. Does it?
“Our people,” Carman says as we reach the top of the wall, and extending both arms over the battlements.
Fear prickles down my spine at the sight. The demon city is like an ocean of grey pustules, stretching upon the land from horizon to boundless horizon. What ravages the army of draugar can cause is laughable in comparison to what even a tenth of this city’s population could wreak.
Curse of the Fey: A Modern Arthurian Legend (Morgana Trilogy Book 3) Page 5
