Icefall (43 page)

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Authors: Gillian Philip

BOOK: Icefall
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‘A last right, and you all know it. I claim it. Now.' Backing towards Cluaran's body, he bent to yank the dead man's sword from the scabbard on his back. He had to kick Cluaran's shoulder to free it, and the corpse jerked and collapsed again as it slid free. Someone in the dead captain's unit gave a cry of protest.

Kilrevin ignored that. He tossed Cluaran's sword to the ground beside Seth. ‘Pick it up, Murlainn.'

Rory pulled back from his father, searching his face in disbelief. Seth only shrugged, half-smiled, and shut his eye. As he staggered to his feet, Finn seized his arm, but he eased out of her grip, then turned and kissed her gently on the mouth.

‘I love you,' he whispered.

Seth bent to grab the sword. He stumbled, righted himself, and hefted the weapon, its tip dragging on the peat.

He could barely lift it. Laughing hoarsely, he stood and hauled the blade up to a defensive position. His body swayed.

Rory felt the rage and hate coming off Finn like a physical force, but he couldn't get off his knees to stand by her. He couldn't take his eyes off his father. Couldn't believe what he was seeing.

The Wolf threw him a smug look. ‘It's my right, Laochan, so no tantrums. One-on-one with the victorious Captain.'

There were murmurs of dissent from Kate's surviving fighters, a few shouts of protest and shocked whispers, but the Wolf took no notice.

‘Not a right that's often claimed, understandably,' he mused aloud, ‘but under Murlainn's circumstances…'

Taking three running steps to Seth's blind side, he casually lifted his blade and slashed down at his shoulder. Seth wavered aside and parried him, just: but only because the Wolf was still playing. Seth's arms were too weak to hold Cluaran's weapon. It bounced from his hands, and clattered to the rocky ground.

Seth reeled, but kept his feet. Finn's jaw was clenched and she gave a tortured cry of—what? Rage, thought Rory? Frustration?

Seth could only turn as well as he could, finding the Wolf with his surviving eye.

‘Do it fast,' he said. ‘You've had your fun.'

‘That was my pleasure,' said the Wolf. ‘And so is this.'

Seth raised his head defiantly as the blade swept towards his neck.

And stopped. It didn't shiver or slip, just jolted to a halt in mid-air as if it had met a soft but impenetrable wall. The Wolf goggled at it, tried to move it back or forward, but failed. It was held fast.

Seth was gaping at it too. He turned, dumbstruck, and stared at his lover. ‘Finn?'

She'd sunk to her knees, drained. With an effort she shook her head. ‘Tried. Couldn't. Didn't.' She fell forward onto her fisted hands on the peat. ‘
I couldn't
.'

Swaying, Seth searched the faces in the ranks. His voice, when he spoke, shook. ‘Who's the telekinetic?'

Good question. Apart from Finn there had been only one telekinetic, and Rory had felt safe assuming she was dead. Bewildered, chilled to the bone, he looked around him. So did everyone else.

Except one. Wearing an expression of utmost contentment, Hannah stepped forward and slapped her hands lightly together. ‘I am.'

‘You!'
The Wolf stared at her. ‘You never—you didn't—'

‘Only just,' said Hannah, idly admiring the sword as he tugged futilely at its hilt.

Finn shoved herself to her feet, sucked in a breath, and straightened. Her face was cold stone as she strode past Hannah, right up to the Wolf.

‘You failed,' she whispered venomously in his face. ‘You failed to kill our Captain.'

‘Beaten only by witchcraft!' the Wolf snarled.

Seth took a breath. ‘Pots and
fecking
kettles—'

‘All right,' Finn interrupted. ‘I'm next in line to the Captaincy, Alasdair. Try your luck with me.'

Open-mouthed at his good fortune, the Wolf couldn't repress a broad grin as Finn walked back to where Seth crouched, exhausted. She touched his cheek.

‘No, Finn,' he moaned. ‘No. No.'

‘Yes.' She kissed him. ‘I love you too.'

Lifting the blade she walked back to the Wolf, her tone turning formal. ‘Not only is it my right, Murlainn, I claim him from you anyway. I think we have plenty of witnesses.'

‘Finn, don't. Please don't.'

But Seth must know it was already too late, thought Rory, heartsick. They all did.

‘Didn't you get enough of me, Caorann?' The Wolf laughed, and winked at Seth.

Hearing the low wolf-snarl in his father's throat, Rory lunged, just in time to seize Seth before he could fling himself at Kilrevin. With a yell of rage and misery, Seth gave up the struggle. Rory's arms tightened round him.

Rory looked anxiously at Finn but she was shaking her head in wonderment as she gazed at the light dancing on Cluaran's blade.

‘Oh, that.' She gave Seth a smile. Then she turned back to the Wolf, shrugging. ‘Listen, I don't want you to die with the wrong idea in your head.'

He barked a mocking laugh. ‘Killed by you, you fumbling amateur? Have four years made you marginally better than useless? I'm not going to die.'

‘Yes, you are. But I'm not going to kill you for anything you did to me. I'm going to kill you for hurting my lover.'

He laughed again, but he sounded less certain this time, because Finn had stopped admiring Cluaran's blade. She turned the sword in her hands so that it was pointing at the ground. Both hands on its hilt, she thrust it hard into the peat.

‘Now, wait a minute,' began the Wolf.

Finn glanced over her shoulder at Hannah, who nodded. Finn smiled.

‘My weapon of choice,' she told him.

‘No, that isn't—'

‘That's fair, Alasdair.' A voice shouted it from Kate's decimated ranks: Gealach. ‘You chose weapons last time.'

‘And was beaten by witchcraft!' he yelled again.

Thoughtfully Gealach looked from him to Finn. ‘Uh-huh. And you tortured Murlainn half to death before you took him on. I think it stands at a fair draw.'

There was a ripple of agreement from Kate's surviving troops.

‘Back to business,' smiled Finn. ‘Now. Did Kate mention how talented I am?'

‘You can't do this!' He was straining at his sword with both hands but it was immovable.

‘Can't,
Alasdair? Of course I can!' She laughed a little rippling laugh.

‘It's the young witch that's got the power. Kate told me. It's her.
Not you.
'

‘I know, isn't this funny? Couldn't you just
die
?'

She was scaring the hell out of him, thought Rory, so the gods knew what she was doing for Kilrevin.

‘I told my lover the night I was bound to him,' Finn murmured, ‘that I'd kill the next person who hurt him. You've been a dead man walking for four years.'

‘Get away from me!'

‘Like you got away from him?' Her smile was lethal.

‘Get away!'

‘Oh, look, forget the stupid sword,' she said, sounding almost like Finn again. ‘You'd better fight me.' Her eyes lit up like nitro-glycerine, like phosphorus. The explosion of light filled her pupils, her irises, even the whites of her eyes. ‘It's the only chance you've got left.'

Kilrevin leaped to his feet, clenching his fists, vicious hatred igniting his eye. The bolt of energy was almost visible, rippling the air between them before it slammed Finn right between the eyes.

She brought her fingertips to her forehead, then studied them with mild interest. Shook them lightly, and smiled at the Wolf.

He sucked in an angry breath and snarled. When his second attack came, she lifted a lazy palm towards him, and the skin of it rippled just as the air had. Finn made a fist, loosened it, and shook her fingers again.

‘You're almost tragic,' she said. ‘Go on, one more.'

His face reddened, and this time his teeth bared like an animal's. Finn opened her arms to him, and the unseen missile crashed into her chest. She gave a small wince, glanced down, and brushed her ribcage.

‘Oh, Alasdair,' she said, and took five steps, and placed a tender hand against his face.

The Wolf tried his damnedest, he really did. With something like pity Rory watched him fight, recognised the struggle, witnessed his hopeless panic as he went under. But Finn was wrong, he thought: Kilrevin never did have a neutered tomcat's chance.

The Wolf knew what was happening, Rory could see that. Physically he shrank before Finn as she cupped his face, motionless but for her black hair stirring gently in the sea breeze. His brutish malevolence died into utter horror, and he whimpered.

Finn tilted her head curiously to watch his eye. Her gaze flicked left, flicked right, as if following the flight of tiny invisible birds. She looked back into his eye once more.

‘Please don't.' The Wolf's voice was a thin scratchy wail.

Finn furrowed her brow. At least, Rory thought she did. His view was blurred by the insanely intense silver of her eyeballs.

‘Faster?' she asked distantly.

She answered her own question. Small white flames flickered around the rim of the Wolf's single eyeball. One of her forefingers twitched, and the Wolf jerked. Once more. And again.

‘Oh, gods,' moaned a voice from the ranks. ‘Oh, gods.'

Grian
, thought Rory.

Finn gave a small sigh; Rory thought solar wind might sound like it, out in the vacuum of millions of miles of darkness. Lazily she flicked her fingers again, stripped another layer of consciousness. Closed her eyes, stripped another. A fighter in the closest rank fell to his knees, retched in terror and threw up. It was Cuthag, but Finn didn't notice. She stood still and silent and contemplative, and tore the Wolf's mind into tiny glittering pieces.

He crumpled, and crumbled, flailing his sword one last pitiful time as Hannah disdainfully released it. A reflex, Rory thought sickly. It could have been nothing more. Finn didn't even flinch as the blade whispered past her ear, and clanged to the ground.

The Wolf was drooling and gibbering now, and he was twitching on the ground, empty-eyed and foetal, when Seth limped to Finn and slipped his arms around her waist. He pressed his forehead to the back of her head and closed his surviving eye, and whispered.

Her inhuman eyes flickered.

Seth placed the palm of his hand on the side of her head, and turned it very gently towards him. He murmured again.

The light in her eyes sparked and guttered like a candle starved of oxygen. She blinked hard, her face turned a tiny degree closer to Seth's, and she swayed. After seconds that felt like forever, the silver light gave a last fierce glaring pulse, and subsided.

Finn blinked again, and her eyes were close to normal. Staring down at what she'd done she began to tremble, but Seth held her and murmured to her till the shaking stopped.

Even the sea wind had died. There was silence on the bluff, except for the ugly racket of Raib MacRothe, vomiting next to Cuthag.

Seth turned to Sionnach. ‘Get rid of that,' he said quietly.

Grimly, Sionnach took the lifeless arm of the shell on the ground. He dragged it to the lip of the cliff and half-kicked, half-rolled it over. It seemed an age until the dull thump and splash, far below.

Hannah couldn't take her eyes off the place where the Wolf had lain. Rory approached her quietly, took her hand in his and kissed it. She shivered, blinking at the cliff-edge, and he knew what memory was in her head.

‘No,' he told her softly. ‘This time he's gone. This time he really is. He was gone before he went over the edge.'

She sighed and turned into his arms. He decided he wouldn't let go of her again.

‘Anyone else?' Sionnach turned on the ranks with a snarl.

No-one answered for a moment, but a lot of heads shook violently.

Gealach was first to recover. She gritted her teeth and glared somewhere to the left of Finn's shoulder.

‘I think we're all done, aren't we?' she said brittly. ‘I'll pledge my allegiance to Murlainn tomorrow.'

Seth straightened, but he held Finn firmly against him.

‘You can all have twenty-four hours to get used to the notion.' His voice was flat. ‘This time tomorrow I want every one of you back on this spot to pledge me your swords. I know every wretched one of you. Anyone who isn't here, I'll hunt you down and kill you myself.' His lips twisted in something like a smile. ‘Or maybe I'll let my lover do it.'

Visible shudders in the ranks. ‘Yes, Murlainn.'

‘I'm your king, just long enough to tell you this: I abdicate. No more kings. No more queens. Enough of that shit. Now get back to your hellhole.' His lip curled. ‘Release Branndair and Iolaire and Rory's filly. Gealach, you bring my bridle here.
You personally.
'

Gealach nodded curtly. Her face was pallid. ‘Murlainn.'

They turned one by one and limped away, or sagged on horseback, led by their exhausted unwounded comrades. When they were gone, there was no sound but the breeze, rising again in rock and grass and abandoned pyres.

Reluctantly Rory eased his hand out of Hannah's, but he did have to let her go. For this he did. He turned to Finn, and she eased herself gently from Seth's embrace.

She opened her fist. A black talisman lay in her palm, an obsidian falcon with threads of faded golden hair wound round its neck. Finn laid it on a flat slab of rock and ground her heel onto it. For a second it resisted, then shattered explosively into glassy splinters.

Connection sparked and flamed in Rory's head. Seth was in his mind, and he was in his father's arms, and a heartbeat later Rory felt pain sear his body, slicing into his limbs and his guts, knocking his breath from his lungs.

It didn't matter. In an instant Seth was gone from his head, and the pain evaporated. Seth was grinding his forehead against Rory's so hard it hurt. That didn't matter either.

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