Curse of the Fey: A Modern Arthurian Legend (Morgana Trilogy Book 3)

by Alessa Ellefson

He’s barely made a step, however, when a dark shape flashes past, then Jennifer lets out a terrified scream.

  “How dare you touch my things?” Carman shouts.

  Her dress explodes in a shower of feathers that slice Jennifer open with a thousand cuts. Jennifer’s scream turns into a high-pitched wail. Before I can stop him, Lance darts in front of her, parrying the deadly feathers with his elemental shield. He twists, swinging his sword arm around, and sparks skitter along the blade as it clashes against Carman’s body.

  “You puny fool,” Carman says, opening her hand up.

  The feathers turn into black tentacles that leap out and strike at Lance like vicious snakes. He lashes at them, desperation giving him a burst of speed. He’s the best knight I’ve ever seen after Gale, but even so, his injuries are slowing him down.

  Jennifer cries out as one of the tentacles punctures his right shoulder. Then Arthur’s hand goes slack above my own. Blood thundering in my ears, I look down at his pallid face.

  “Stay with me, Arthur,” I say, throat painfully tight.

  The world is spinning around me, a confusion of movements and sounds. I will my mind to clear up, finally tearing myself away in search for Urien, and find the squire’s dead eyes staring at me. I jerk forward, awkward in my rush to get Excalibur out of its iron net. Sluggish. I’ve lost too much blood, and my human self can barely stand anymore.

  But before my fingers can close around the mesh, a hand hooks around my neck and lifts me in the air.

  “Let me go!” I gasp, fighting to keep back the black spots that dance in my vision.

  I need to heal Arthur, now! If I don’t…

  Carman releases me, and I double over, gasping for air, when my vision suddenly clears.

  “Is this what you’re after?” Carman asks.

  She’s removed the net from Excalibur and is now considering me with some amusement. Panic turns into a tight knot in the pit of my stomach. She knows.

  “So you had your oghams merged with Excalibur,” Carman says with a sickening giggle. “How very clever. Or very stupid.”

  She trails a long-nailed finger over the sword’s length, watching the warning sparks it generates upon contact.

  “It seems to be missing something, however,” she says.

  My heart stutters as I realize what she means. Excalibur has lost its hilt, only the bladed remaining, like an unfinished weapon. I whirl around, gaze settling automatically on the Siege Perilous behind which lies Mordred’s body. If his part of the ogham’s gone, then he’s fully mortal again, and…

  I swallow audibly, unable to make myself finish that thought.

  Carman sighs. “I guess you really are the only key I have left.”

  I look back at her, nerves tingling in apprehension. I can feel my wounds mending, power slowly ebbing back into my limbs. Then Carman’s hand closes over Excalibur’s tang[35]. The sword lights up with a series of angry lightning bolts, shooting thousands of electric volts straight up her arm. Carman clenches her teeth, face rippling with pain, but she doesn’t let go.

  “Follow me, Morgan,” Carman says, her voice slightly strained.

  A strange feeling washes over me, like I’ve stepped into a giant wad of cotton. I feel my muscles respond, legs moving of their own volition, tracking Carman’s feathered dress across the floor, until I’m standing beside her by the Siege Perilous. Only then does the compulsion fade away, and I wince.

  “How did you—”

  Eyes wide with terror, I break off. Although the sword clearly rejects her, Carman’s evidently still capable of controlling me through my ogham, the same way knights have with countless Fey before.

  “If only I’d known about this sooner,” Carman says, beaming. She points to the Siege Perilous with Excalibur. “Have a seat.”

  Despite my best attempt to stop myself, I whirl around robotically, boots squelching in the gore. The remaining wooden demons on the carved chair stare at me eagerly as a hand grips one of the armrests, mouths open, fangs ready to carve a path into my own flesh.

  “Come on,” Carman presses impatiently. “Sit.”

  The block of cotton in my mind thickens, and I feel myself lowering to the chair. Then blinding flashes in sudden rapid bursts, searing my vision, and I find myself tipping forward, away from the Siege Perilous.

  “Give that back!” Carman roars, power crackling in fury.

  Breathing heavily, I look around in confusion, and find Puck bounding away from the witch, dragging Excalibur behind him.

  “Misstressss,” the banshee hisses urgently from inside a large ring of blood.

  A portal.

  And within its confines, is Arthur, his beautiful hazel eyes closed.

  I scramble forward before Carman can figure out what’s happening, but at the edge of the circle, I pause. I can’t run away now, not after all the sacrifices we’ve made.

  “Hurrrrryyy!” the banshee entreats, shifting uneasily from one foot to the next.

  I look back, and catch sight of Puck heading our way while trying to outrun Carman’s reach. He’s only a few feet away now, but Excalibur’s slowing him down.

  “Drop the sword!” I shout at him.

  The hobgoblin shakes his horned head, only to trip over a dead demon’s arm. As Puck goes flying, a long tentacle from Carman’s dress strikes out to coil itself around the sharp blade, and tears it out of his tiny hands.

  “Puck!”

  I barely register the banshee’s soft-spoken words before the circle flares up, activated. But before it can transport us away, I dart back outside its perimeter to fetch the hobgoblin. I dive as another of Carman’s tentacles whips overhead, my fingers closing around Puck’s shaking body. I spin back around for the banshee’s portal, straining not to lose my balance.

  “You’re not going anywhere!” Carman snarls.

  A shudder runs down my spine, body locking in place before I can cross back inside the blood ring. Sweat drips down my forehead. I can sense Carman’s satisfied smile as she adjusts her grip on my ogham.

  A wall of green light erupts from the portal’s edges, and through it I can see the banshee reaching for me, but she’s already growing dim, as if turning into a ghost. So, with the last of my strength, I toss puck at her.

  “Misstressss, noooo!” the banshee cries out.

  “Take care of them,” I tell her, eyes falling one last time upon Arthur’s body.

  Then a loud crack resounds, and all three of them disappear, leaving me alone with Carman.

  ◆◆◆

  There should be no excitement when facing one’s death, no irrepressible desire to laugh giddily. Yet my body feels light as a feather as I slowly turn around to face Carman. Maybe it’s because I know this whole mess is finally coming to an end—one way or another, after today, I’ll be done.

  So, with a confidence I don’t quite feel, I strut back to the Siege Perilous where Carman wants me, and let my fingers trail along the seat’s back, watching the intricate carvings come alive at my touch. The few angels left on the chair scurry to meet my fingers, chasing away the demons that have taken over most of the fateful chair. Here, too, Hell and Heaven are locked in an eternal fight.

  “Good,” Carman says, and I can feel her excitement through my link to Excalibur. “Now sit on it.”

  My body reacts to her order, muscles spasming as I try to resist and delay the fateful moment. I cut a long glance at Carman, ignoring the dark tendrils creeping again from her dress, and force myself to smile.

  “Funny how you think yourself so superior,” I say, “when really you can’t do anything on your own. Couldn’t free yourself on your own, couldn’t give form to your ogham on your own, can’t open these Gates on your own…and apparently you know you can’t rule shit on your own either, or you wouldn’t be so desperate to free Balor, now, would you?”

  I pause, tilting my head at her, arms shaking so violently now, the Siege Perilous is threatening to topple over.

  “And you thought you c
ould compare yourself to Danu?” I continue, barking out a laugh that sounds crazy, even to my own ears. “Not in a billion years. You’re not Fey enough to measure up to her. Not even with that dragon of yours.”

  Carman’s nostrils flare, those black tentacles of hers frozen in shock. Her eyes slide over to the windows, and I follow her gaze. It’s not hard to guess where her dragon is, the night sky lit up with blazing trails as it chases after my friends, not realizing they’re leading it into a trap. And now she knows I know her secret. And if I know it, then everyone else does too.

  The sound of a bell rings out, its note carrying clearly over the distant sounds of battle and the torrential rain. A green light flashes in the distance, the color of a sylph’s elemental power. The western ward is back up.

  “That’s four,” I say. “One more, and your so-called reign is over.”

  Carman starts for the windows, her hold on Excalibur momentarily slipping. I sense her reach out to her beast, calling it back. Not noticing that while she does so, I pluck at that strange cord of power that also links me to the beast, countering her signal. I smirk as her restlessness grows.

  “Having issues?” I hear myself ask smugly.

  Carman turns her dark gaze back to me, rage kindling in her eyes. “What have you done?”

  I shrug. “You should’ve known better than to use my blood and the Sangraal to build your dragon,” I say. “I am now forever bonded to it, and the only way it can be undone is to destroy it completely.”

  With a violent snarl, Carman slams Excalibur down, the blade sliding into the flagstones until it’s embedded all the way up to the fuller[36]. I wince as her power bears down on me, forcing me down to my knees.

  “You are going to pay for this when I come back,” Carman says, seething.

  And when she moves away again, her blood shadow stays behind to guard the sword.

  I lift both hands to call on fire and force her back inside, but at my movement, the blood shadow grabs Excalibur. Dark tendrils of smoke jump from beneath its red fingers, and I drop to the floor, pain ripping through my chest.

  And through the tears, I see Carman make for the arched windows, feather dress already billowing out to catch the winds.

  “Stop…,” I cry out.

  I can’t let her escape. If she manages to fly out to her dragon’s help, then our troops are doomed.

  Gritting my teeth against the mind-shattering pain, I force myself to crawl across the cold flagstones. But the blood shadow twists its hold on Excalibur, and pain slices down my spine, sending me writhing to the floor.

  I can’t breathe. Can’t think. My heart’s about to explode. I arch against the floor, eyes rolling back in my head.

  I hear a bone-jarring roar, and I don’t know if it’s coming from my own lips or someone else’s. The stench of charred meat and scorching hair burns up my nose. Then something rings out in the distance. Blue light bursts across my vision. And all at once, everything stops. The agony. The screams. The battle…

  Letting out a shaky breath, I look around the room. The blood shadow is gone, leaving my ogham half-buried in the floor, surrounded by dead demons. Someone’s crying somewhere to my left, yet laughter bubbles out of me. They did it! They’ve restored the school wards, and stopped Carman’s army in its tracks, fencing all the demons and draugar inside the school grounds.

  I slowly push myself up, and my eyes fall upon a black figure whimpering against one of the window’s columns. For a second, I think it’s Thummim, but then I notice the sword gripped in the darkened hand. A sword with light gold and silver traceries on its grip—a knight’s sword.

  Lance’s sword, I realize in a flash.

  Except that it isn’t Lance who’s gripping it.

  “Jennifer?” I say in shock.

  The girl turns her head blindly at the mention of her name, and I repress the need to gag at the sight of the pus seeping out of what had once been crystal-clear blue eyes.

  It’s her, all right, covered in open blisters and charred cuts.

  Only Carman could have done that to her. And the witch wouldn’t have bothered if Jennifer hadn’t tried to stop her somehow.

  And in doing so, Jennifer’s saved us all.

  “You’re going to pay for this,” Carman hisses, whirling on us.

  I laugh again, louder. “It’s too late,” I say. “You can’t harm us anymore.”

  Which leaves only one thing left for me to do. I turn back to the Siege Perilous. Who was it that once told me Mordred and I were two sides of the same coin? Was it Carman? Mordred himself? Danu? It doesn’t matter.

  A tremor courses through me as my feet return to the seat’s edge.

  Trepidation, eagerness…and fear.

  For to destroy the Siege Perilous, I know I must die too.

  I close my eyes, trying to coax my breathing into a more regular pattern. I always knew it might come down to this. It was the one part of the plan I never mentioned to Arthur, though he must’ve known somehow. Thinking of him now brings back all my memories of our times together. Of the laughter in his eyes despite his too-serious face when he tried to teach me elemental manipulation. Of his constant willingness to give his all the help and protect everyone, including me. Especially me. Until his very last breath.

  And now it’s my turn to do the same.

  I fling my eyes open, grip the chair’s carved armrests.

  “Your road ends here,” I tell Carman, and lower myself upon the Siege Perilous.

  The carved demons spring to action, scurrying up the dark wood in excitement. Power surges from the chair, a sickening wave that fills me up like an oily tide, burning all in its passage. I hear Carman laugh, then everything around me disappears.

  Chapter 41

  The whole world has turned into a kaleidoscope of greys and blacks—everything’s barren and covered in ashes, a smoky haze hanging in the stifling air. The stench of sulfur is so thick I want to retch. I try to shift, and stifle a gasp as pain rips through my chest, as if the Siege Perilous is loathe to let me go. But that’s not what makes my hairs stand on end.

  I can feel them moving inside me, sharp teeth eating away at my flesh as the wooden demons slowly carve their way into my body.

  “Stop them,” I plead, shuddering.

  Though I can no longer see her, I feel Carman’s presence beside me, feel her hot breath warm my cold cheek as she whispers, “Not so proud now, are we?” Her fingers brush my hair back. “The only way to stop this is for you to open that last Gate, and let Balor join me.”

  “You’re mad,” I say.

  “No, sweetie, just telling the truth. You saw what happens when you try to resist what must be done.”

  I try to twist away from her, but I’m locked into place, trapped by the very thing I wanted to destroy. How did Mordred ever control the Siege Perilous?

  Carman’s hand gently forces my head around. “Do you see it?” she asks.

  I freeze.

  A large red door the size of a tall house is now standing on its own in the middle of the vast, empty plain, the smoke rippling away from it, as if repelled by it. A shiver courses down my spine. It wasn’t there a moment ago, did I call it to me?

  “Open it,” Carman whispers urgently.

  All the darkness and emptiness that suffuses this sterile land suddenly finds an echo inside of me, filling my heart with hate and the desire to watch everything burn. I force another long breath through my nose, shocked at the intensity of my emotions.

  “The door, Morgan.”

  Carman’s voice is insistent. She’s worried. I wince as one of the tiny demons shifts somewhere around my kidney, moving steadily towards my spleen. I lick my parched lips, tasting blood. I can’t listen to her. I need to figure out how to close the doors instead of opening them, before these wooden atrocities turn me into human Swiss cheese.

  “The sooner you open that door, the sooner you can go back to that boy of yours,” Carman croons in my ear.

  She me
ans Arthur, of course. A terrible longing to see him again washes over me, to see his slightly crooked smile crinkle the corners of his hazel eyes, dirty blond hair mussed the way it was the night we spent together. Would it be so terrible to stop fighting, close my eyes, and finally let go of everything?

  “That’s right, go on.”

  Carman’s voice sounds more distant. I shake my head firmly, as if to wake up from a tortuous dream, only to find the red door is now but a couple of feet away. I look over my shoulder in confusion, trying to recall when I moved.

  “Hurry, Morgan, there’s no time left.”

  No time left.

  Carman’s words cycle through my head, over and over again, bringing with them visions of Arthur as he lay in a growing pool of blood, pale and so still he looked dead. All because he took a bullet for me, when all I ever did was cause problems. Rage flows through me at the inanity of this endless war that seems to take the best of us first.

  My eyes revert to the red door, and my breath rushes out in sudden panic.

  “No,” I choke out, staring at the long vertical crack along the frame.

  I didn’t touch anything, so how could the door open on its own? Intense heat gushes from the narrow gap, plastering my uniform to my body as I try to peer into the darkness that lies on the other side. A terrible pressure settles upon me, and I find myself shaking uncontrollably, unable to move an inch. I am like a bird cornered by a cat, the power of flight forgotten. And I know the reason why.

  Balor.

  I swallow convulsively. The king of demons knows I’m here, and can already taste the freedom he must crave.

  As if aware of my panicked thoughts, a red beam of light suddenly cuts through the obscurity, searing my vision, before winking out again. But it was all I needed to see what lies beyond the door, and nothing will ever erase that from my mind.

  I collapse onto the ground, legs gone useless. That thing is worse than I could have imagined. It is misery and hunger, wrath and pain, mindless evil and horrid death—the four horsemen of the apocalypse rolled into one black hole ready to devour the entire world.