Rise of the Fey (53 page)

The hag pulls on the remains of her weapon as Lugh charges her. She tries to dodge him at the last second, but his foot catches her in the temple and she falls rolling to the ground.

“You’re a few eons too early if you want to take me on in single combat,” Lugh says, towering over her.

“I heard you spent the last few millennia cowering in your grove, old man,” Gwyllion says, wiping blood from her distended lips as she jumps back onto her feet.

The hag circles Lugh one way, while her pet Barguest goes around the other way, his long forearms pawing the dirt in eager anticipation.

There’s a shout and the air crackles with electricity. I push myself back into a sitting position and crane my neck around to find Percy facing off four demons, his small frame disappearing behind their sinuous, scaly bodies.

“Not
dagaz
!” Blanchefleur yells further away.

But it’s too late. I can smell the sharp tang of ozone. Blanchefleur shouts out in fear, her glowing sword flashing before her more rapidly, carving her way towards Percy.

The Dark Sidhe around him shriek as the lightning strikes and, when I look back, three of them are down, their limbs twitching feebly on the scarred earth, Percy standing over them, unharmed.

Blanchefleur lands next to Percy and smacks him on the head. “You think I want to revive your sorry ass again?” she snaps.

Percy’s rage turns to momentary confusion then he gives her a sheepish smile. “I got it under control now,” he says. “Learned my lesson after the first time.”

“Watch out!” I croak, as the last of the pack of four demons rears to shoot its long dorsal spikes at them.

Blanchefleur raises her arm, sending the ground soaring up to form a shield around them, and the sharp spikes embed themselves in the wall with dull
thud
s, inches away from their faces.

With a scream of fury, Percy drives forward, breaking through the barrier of mud, his sword raised to hack at the Dark Sidhe coming at them.

“Morgan, are you OK?”

I blink around at the sound of Arthur’s voice, then nod. “Yeah,” I wheeze.

If Arthur and the others had gotten here any later, I’d probably be dead by now—superpower or not. My hands clench into fists on my lap, still manacled, still helpless.

No, I tell myself. I’m done with the whole damsel in distress gig. It’s tiring, and boring, and not conducive to getting what I want. Which, at this moment, is Dub. Dead.

I scan the Fey and knights fighting about the clearing, but find no trace of the Shade.

The two red, twinkling pixies alight on my legs, light as feathers. I try not to notice the inky veins showing through the remains of my dress and concentrate instead on the tiny creatures as they swing their arms about frenetically, buzzing away like a couple of goliath beetles.

“I know we’re in trouble, you don’t have to state the obvious,” I say, giving up on trying to figure out their sign language and going back to looking for the Shade. “Now if you could tell me where to find Dub I would be very appreciative.”

I look back down as a thought hits me. The pixies! Weren’t they able to sense Dub’s presence before he attacked me? Come to think about it, I’ve managed to sense him twice before too.

I look up into the early morning sky, still too dark to distinguish anything within its vast expanse apart from the scythe-like moon.

I breathe in and close my eyes as I remember the strange turbulence I felt in the air seconds before Dub slammed into me, like an absence of…

There! High above us, I can feel traces of a disturbance in the Aether, like the remnants of a vortex pointing towards the school.

With a grunt, I start to drag myself after it.

“Where are you going?” Arthur asks, ducking under a heavy blow before Gareth slams the Fey down with his warhammer arm.

I see Arthur run for me out of the corner of my eye, and I try to hurry up. If he finds out my goal is Dub, he’s going to stop me, and in my current state I won’t be able to get away. I look back down at my legs, but the black veins have only receded up to my knees—not quick enough!

The sound of Arthur’s combat boots hitting the packed earth draws closer and I force myself onto my feet.

Swaying, I make a tentative hop and feel a gust of warm wind rise beneath me, pushing me off the ground, before it dies down. I fall, jarring my knees and scraping my hands raw. Gritting my teeth, I make another attempt at flight, pushing myself off the clearing using my fists.

This time my body remains suspended five feet above the ground, my legs dangling uselessly beneath me like I’m some massively overweight bumble bee.

Frowning in concentration, I propel myself further up into the sky before Arthur or anyone else can stop me—

—and find myself being yanked back down as Nibs catches hold of the chain.

“Let go of me!” I yell as I pitch toward the ground.

“Where do you think you’re going?” the clurichaun asks instead, straining to keep a hold on the chain and only managing to make us swing side to side like a pendulum.

“I’m going after Dub,” I say, sweating with the effort of keeping us from crashing. “So if you want to live, I suggest you let go.”

“I will do no such thing, you dim-witted, pea-brained, blunderbuss!” Nibs screams.

But even as the clurichaun throws his string of insults at me, I force myself to keep moving towards the school.

“Morgan!” Arthur shouts, far below me now.

He grunts then I hear the dull sound of a sword falling, and I glance down to find Arthur’s fallen over, a large spike protruding from his shoulder. I swerve around, dipping closer to the edge of the treetops, torn between going to help Arthur and my need to go after Dub before it’s too late.

“Oh, look, your boyfriend’s hurt,” Nibs sniggers. “Guess we’re gonna have to land now after all.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I start, before pointing back down excitedly. “And look! Hadrian’s got him covered!”

I watch Hadrian as he calls on fire, setting the Fey ablaze before cutting it down in a shower of blood, and I breathe a sigh of relief as the knight finally drops next to Arthur to take care of him.

“Morg—” Arthur starts, his cry of pain cutting him off as Hadrian pulls the spike out of his shoulder.

“Don’t die,” I whisper back.

I give one final look at Hadrian as he rips a piece of his coat lining to pad Arthur’s bleeding shoulder, then zoom away, Nibs still weighing me down like a bloody anchor.

I follow Dub’s trail like a hound, the jarring void in the air getting stronger and stronger as I make my way over Avalon’s dark forest towards Lake High. I almost miss it, but the path suddenly veers off to the west, away from the school, and up to the surface.

A sour taste rises to my mouth as I realize where Dub’s headed—Island Park, theater of Carman’s escape and Dean’s death.

Jaw set against a rising migraine, I breach the barrier separating Avalon from Lake Winnebago, bullet through its freezing waters and finally puncture the thick layer of ice at its surface.

I shield my face as the chilly wind buffets me about, as if urging me back down into the lake and out of harm’s way. I squint, taking in the distant glow of the town, its lights reflecting off the snowy landscape in prisms of color. And, straight ahead, is Island Park’s somber outline.

To my surprise, the two pixies’ red flickers zoom out of the lake after me, only to get blown away by a gust of wind. I catch them just as they whoosh past me, their wings beating uselessly against the gale.

“Hold on tight,” I tell them, putting the two tiny creatures in my pocket, “’cause things are only gonna get worse.

My heart hammers in my chest as I near the island cloaked in darkness, expecting Dub to spring on me at any moment. Nibs finally lets go of the chain and disappears under four feet of snow as I touch ground. I yelp as my legs give way under me, still not fully recovered from Dub’s attack.

“Well ain’t this a grand sight,” Nibs says, his sarcasm undermined by the fact that he must hop over the mounds of snow to reach me. “The little girl wants to show off, but she only manages to look like a drunken fool.”

“Better than a silly rabbit,” I say, trying not to show how scared I am.

For Nibs is right: What am I supposed to do once I’m face to face with Dub? I couldn’t defeat him just moments ago, what’s going to change that now?

“Oh, how I miss my alcohol,” Nibs moans, his voice muffled by the wall of snow surrounding him. “My stouts on long, sunny days, my whisky on pensive nights, my Cognac when with the ladies….”

“Why don’t you go back to your bar then?” I say, struggling to stand back up. “Nobody’s holding you back.”

“That’s what you’d think,” Nibs says accusingly. “But the big C’s given me a clear orde, and that’s to bring you back, and in one piece.” Then he adds, as an afterthought, “One useable piece.”

“Big C?” I ask, grabbing onto the low branches of a leafless tree to stay up. “Oh, you mean Carman. What does she want me for anyway? She got out of jail already.”

“She’s got her reasons,” Nibs says. I get a brief glimpse of him as he jumps up, clearing the snow before disappearing back into it, a foot closer to me, then I hear him muffle out another string of curses.

“Well I’ve got my reasons to stay away from her,” I say, licking my parched lips as I eye our surroundings.

“And
I
say my priorities take precedence,” Nibs says.

He hops up once more, his outline detaching itself against the frozen lake, then lands on top of me, making me lose my footing, and I fall back down with a sharp gasp.

“So you see, I can’t mess this up, or she’ll skin me alive,” Nibs finishes with a self-satisfied smirk.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I sputter, pushing him off me angrily.

Nibs gets quickly back up and growls at me. A louder growl answers his and we both freeze in fear as a large shape throws itself at the clurichaun.

The two of them roll out of sight, tumbling back down the hill toward the shore, then I hear a loud squeak.

“Nibs?” I call out, crawling after them as fast as I can.

I find the clurichaun trapped under a cloaked figure, a long, pale arm hanging above him, an obsidian knife gleaming dangerously close to his throat. My blood runs cold as I remember another night on this island, another person about to fall victim to that knife….

“Stop!” I cry.

The banshee stills at the sound of my voice. Slowly, her cowl turns to face me. I repress a shiver as her sightless gaze searches me.

“Don’t hurt him,” I say, regretting my decision to interfere. What if she attacks me now?

But the banshee rushes to get off Nibs like she’s just been burned, drops to a crouch beside me, hunched over, and lets out a questioning yip.

“Listen to that old bitch,” Nibs says, dusting the snow off his red jacket. “Lost her last master and now she’s trying to get adopted again.”

“Shut up,” I snap at him.

But his words make me wonder…

“You’re the one who saved me from Dub back down there, aren’t you?” I ask uncertainly, remembering the hair-raising howls before the Shade released me, somewhat similar to when… “And you did it again before, when the school was attacked, didn’t you?”

The banshee nods, lowering herself closer to the ground. “Yessssss,” she hisses, her voice hoarse as if she hasn’t used it in years. “Missssstresssss wassssss dyinnnnnng.”

I breathe in sharply, the cold air tickling my throat and making me cough. I look up at the cloudless sky, the last few stars twinkling disinterestedly up in the heavens. Is this some kind of strange present that Dean’s left me?

“Thank you,” I say, looking back down at the cowled figure.

The banshee rocks back and forth on her heels. “Missstresss should leaaave nooow,” she whispers.

“Wish I could,” I say.

“She may be annoying,” Nibs says, “but the bitch is right. You need to get out of here.
I
need to get out of here. We all need to get out of here. Then we’ll all remain in one piece. A very comforting prospect, don’t you think?”

He draws closer to us, and the banshee turns on him with a growl, scaring Nibs back three paces.

I smirk at him—it’s nice to finally have someone who has my back, no matter what I decide to do.

I drop to my knees, clutching at my breast, as a sudden pain flares in my chest.

“Missstressss?” the banshee asks, looking confused.

“Help me up,” I gasp as the burning ache recedes a little.

The creature’s surprisingly narrow shoulders wedge themselves under my arm and she props me up. Nibs watches us, a mixed look of scorn and concern warring on his scarred face.

“To the circle,” I gasp as another agonizing wave hits me.

One slow step at a time, the banshee helps me through the snowy grounds, up the hill toward the standing stones that once stood watch over Carman. We’ve barely made it past a knob of trees when something cold seems to wrap itself around my heart and squeezes.

I yell as the world around me tilts.