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.
“Right,” I drawl. “As if you’d do anything that didn’t serve—”
“Excellent,” Gale says hurriedly.
The knight grabs me by the waist and settles me on the kelpie’s broad back, before jumping on it behind me. Nessie lets out an annoyed snort, but doesn’t otherwise budge.
“You’re insane,” I whisper to Gale. “Get us off this beast before it tries to kill us.”
But Gale only ignores me. “What about you, Dark Sidhe? Are you coming along?”
Mordred’s impish smile reappears. “Me? What a strange question for someone who was never even here.”
◆◆◆
I have no bloody clue where we’re headed. Everything looks the same to me—rocky hills of grey under a leaden sky. The demons’ shouts have long subsided to nothing, leaving us only with the sound of Nessie’s thunderous gallop.
My whole body’s aching from gripping the kelpie’s algae-like mane. The rough ride’s driving my stomach halfway up my throat, and it’s all I can do not to retch from motion sickness. I wish I could still fly properly, or at the very least run as fast as the banshee. But I’m still too weak from taking down those draugar.
Unless I use the ogham Mordred gave me… I can feel it tucked away in my jacket pocket, the large gem bouncing against my hip in counterpoint to Nessie’s gallop.
I shake the repulsive idea away, disgusted at myself for even thinking it.
Thankfully, the kelpie finally slows down to a stop, and Gale jumps off its sweat-soaked back.
“We’re almost there,” Gale says.
“Almost?” I squeak, letting the banshee help me down.
Gale points to the top of the nearest cliff, and I squint as I follow his finger to a barely noticeable spot near the top.
“What do you think I am, a goat?” I ask, cringing as I eye the craggy cliffside leading up to what I assume to be a cave.
With a soft nicker that sounds strangely like a laugh, the kelpie takes off again, back to my brother, leaving us three alone.
“Where are the others?” I ask then, worry rearing its ugly head as I find no trace of Keva, Nibs, or even Kaede. “What if they fell somewhere? Or were kidnapped again?”
“They haven’t,” Gale says calmly.
“How would you—”
A warning growl makes me spin around, just in time to see a figure jump over me and start its rapid ascent, long black hair fanning out behind.
“Hurry up!” Kaede calls down to us, already halfway up.
“The other two are already waiting for us above,” Gale says. “But if we don’t hurry, others will soon pick up on our trail too, before we can make our way out.”
�
�Supposing the way out actually works,” I mutter as Gale tears his shirt up to make a flimsy cord out of it.
“It won’t do much,” he says, attaching one end of it to my right wrist—the one left untouched by Carman’s blood shadow—before attaching the other end to his, “but it’ll let me know if you’re in trouble.
I eye the steep hill, blanching at how high it is, how much I still need to walk, to climb.
“Let’s hurry,” Gale says urgently. “Lady Kaede must’ve seen something serious if she doesn’t want to tarry.”
The cloth rope pulls at my arm as Gale gets moving, and the banshee nudges me forward. Reluctantly, I start climbing too, foot by painful foot, until my whole body’s aching and I’m sweating like a hog. A shower of loose rocks falls upon my head and I look up in annoyance.
“Watch it,” I mutter.
The banshee lets out a low growl and I nearly lose my grip in surprise. I stiffen as a shadow ripples overhead. Letting out a string of curses, Gale rolls onto his back to face the new threat, his spear already halfway out his flexors[11].
“What is that?” I ask.
“Harpy,” Gale replies.
Petrified, I watch as a large, half-furry, half-feathery bird descends upon us with a loud shriek, gleaming talons out. The winged demon’s claws rake the edge of Gale’s weapon, sending sparks flying. It lets out another sharp cry, almost human-sounding, and only as it pulls back up do I finally see its head and torso are those of a hirsute woman, hair dangling around its sagging, pale breasts in unkempt locks.
“Morgan!” Gale shouts, startling me out of my paralysis.
The harpy’s shadow has circled back and is heading our way again, followed by a second. With a hiss, the banshee urges me forward, and I scramble up the dangerously narrow path as fast as I can.
“Halfway,” Gale says, moving sprightly despite the spear still in his hands.
A sudden, strong breeze buffets my back to the pounding sound of the harpies’ wings. The banshee turns around with a bark, her knife out. But it’s useless against these flying creatures.
I feel the sharp edge of a claw graze my shoulder. I gasp, losing my balance. The rope at my wrist draws taught, then the cloth rips and I find myself slipping down the steep incline. I scrabble at the hard ground in a desperate attempt to find purchase, rocks shredding my palms and knees.
“Missstressss!” The banshee’s bony hand latches around my bad arm and I let out a shout of pain, my vision momentarily clouding over.
A screech resounds, so close it makes the ground shake. Then Gale’s at our side, thrusting his lance out at the flying beasts. The nearest harpy shrieks in annoyance, flapping away to avoid the deadly weapon.
“You OK?” Gale asks, sparing me a quick glance to look at the damage.
“I-I think so,” I say.
“Darknessssss,” the banshee says in warning as the bigger of the two harpies swoops in lower.
“What?” I mumble, arms shaking from the strain.
“She means Celaeno,” Gale says, the tension in his body belying his hooded, sleepy look. “The oldest of the three.”
“Three?” I exclaim, as the winged demon stops just out of reach of Gale’s spear, a smug look on her lined face.
She is twice the size of her sister, her long dark hair merging with the night-colored feathers of its wings, and definitely meaner looking.
“Get her up there, quick, while I keep these back,” Gale tells the banshee.
The banshee doesn’t hesitate. She hauls me after her, her grip like a vice around my injured arm. I glance back down at the sound of ringing metal. Gale is now fending off the second, smaller harpy. The bird woman is tenacious, diving repeatedly at him despite her evident injuries. As if it’s trying to keep him busy…
I look up, searching the grey skies for the second harpy, and panic shoots through me as I realize it’s making for the cave.
“Keva!” I shout.
I rush up the hillside in a burst of speed, but I’m too slow. The bigger harpy plunges, sharp talons out, cornering the others inside. I hear a scream of terror. I’m not going to make it!
Before I realize what I’m doing, I slam my foot on the ground, willing my body to take to the skies, and I’m suddenly gliding over the cliffside. But as I fly closer to the cave, the air suddenly thickens, bearing down on me as if to crush me back to the ground. I grit my teeth against the pressure, pulling away again, until I’m soaring high above hill.
Then, releasing a long-held breath, I let myself plummet, straight for the birdwoman.
Sensing my approach, the larger harpy swerves out of the way before my feet can make impact, and I overshoot, flying past Gale as he’s prying the smaller harpy off his spear.
I throw my arms out, fingers scraping against the hillside to swing myself around, then kick hard at the ground again with a cry of rage. I surge in a great bound, the ground blurring past, and catch the remaining harpy from behind, fists punching into her feathery back. The demon lets out a sharp croak of surprise, before flying up in retreat.
I twist around on myself, tracking the harpy’s movements. My breath is coming in short gasps, muscles burning from the effort. Then everything goes out of focus.
“Above!”
It takes me a while to register Keva’s scream. I crane my neck up. “Where—”
I feel the harpy behind me before its talons puncture my back, tearing through flesh and bones to pierce my ribcage all the way through to the front. I let out a strangled cry as the harpy tightens her grip on me, already carrying me away.
“Head down!” Gale shouts.
Something bright flashes in front of me, and I barely have the reflex to duck as Gale drives his spear up, barely missing my head.
The harpy’s claws jerk, squeezing my insides tighter as the weapon catches it in the neck. Gale yanks his weapon back out, and the harpy gurgles out a screech, dark ichor gushing out of her wound, steaming hot on the back of my head.
For a second it seems we’re suspended in the air. Then the harpy’s arrhythmic wingbeat swings us around in a dizzying spiral. The wind whistles in my ears as we plunge towards the bottom of the hill, the ground rushing up to meet us.
I catch sight of a figure racing to keep up with us. A face. Gale, looking worried. Shouting…
I grunt as I try to correct our fall, but it’s like I’ve turned into an old, sputtering engine. There’s a grey blur as the banshee jumps towards us, ramming into the harpy’s ribs, and altering our deadly course.
We hit the side of the hill in a bone-jarring thud, bouncing off the ground several times before skidding to a stop, and the harpy’s claws finally unclench.
I take in a shuddering breath, tears leaking from my eyes, dust and ash from the collision slowly settling back down.
I close my eyes against the pounding in my head. I can’t feel anything from the neck down, can’t move a finger. Sleep pulls at my shattered body, dulling my senses. Then someone slaps me hard across the face, ripping a weak cry of pain from my lips.
“Wakey, wakey, yer moronness,” Nibs says, and I open my eyes. A sneer pulls at the melted side of the clurichaun’s face. “Excellent! Now if ya don’t mind, we need ya to help out as we get these wings off yer back.”
The clurichaun twists his finger, and two sets of hands reach under my back to peel me off the harpy’s claws. I scream. It feels like they’re gutting me, ripping my spine out. Finally, my body comes free and Gale and the banshee gently lay me back down beside the dead harpy.
“She’s gonna bleed to death,” I hear Keva say, voice thin with fear.
I want to tell her I’m OK. I don’t hurt so bad now.
“She’s going into epileptic shock!” Keva shouts.
I try to smile. Keva can be so silly sometimes. My hands and feet contract, muscles seizing, then release again.
“Move aside,” Kaede says. She’s holding out a round stone that flares for a second as she draws near me. A jewel as bright as the su
mmer sky.
It’s not the one Mordred gave me, but it’s an ogham nonetheless.
“Great idea,” Nibs says, grabbing the stone from the knight’s fingers.
I shake my head, struggling feebly to keep Nibs away.
“Sorry, sweetcheeks,” the clurichaun says, “but ya’ve got no choice in the matter. Only way to heal ya.”
My body bucks and arches as Nibs pushes the ogham into the open wound in my chest. Another scream rips out of me.
“Stop fighting it,” Nibs tells me through clenched teeth. He’s pressing both hands over the entry point, keeping the ogham inside me so my body’s forced to absorb it.
Angry tears blur my vision anew. Stop. Please! A sob escapes my raw throat. Please make him stop…
I let out a shuddering breath as the pressure suddenly recedes.
“It’s being pushed back out!” Keva shouts in surprise.
“Let me go, ya dumbass,” Nibs snarls. “She’ll die if we don’t do this, and then where will we be?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Gale shake his head as he holds Nibs up by the collar. “Can’t you feel it?” he asks, sounding strangely awed.
“These two might be dead, but there’s a third one out there, ya glob of snot,” Nibs snaps, waving his bloody fists in the air. “We don’t have time!”
“No, Sir Gale’s right,” Kaede says, sharp profile pointing back to the cave. “There’s something there.”
And then I feel it too. A strange warmth that reaches out to me, soaking me in its soft, comforting embrace. I let my eyelids flutter closed. My breathing eases, all of my pain and fear receding, gently wiped away.
Then, as quickly as it appeared, the energy vanishes, leaving me feeling cold and empty. But the pain is gone as well. I slowly open my eyes, wondering if I’m not in another one of my strange visions.
“It can’t be,” Nibs whispers, his eyes even larger with shock.
“You bloody well have to believe it!” Keva squeals. She eyes me from head to foot, as if taking stock. Then, with a satisfied nod, she flashes a big grin at me. “So, you’re ready to go kill us some monsters and take back our school?”
Curse of the Fey: A Modern Arthurian Legend (Morgana Trilogy Book 3) Page 11
