Song of the Fairy Queen (59 page)

It took a moment for the wizard’s words to penetrate Morgan’s fury and despair.

Kyri was still alive.

Morgan opened his eyes, looking down at her, his heart wrenching.

To find her looking back at him, her beautiful eyes hazed with pain, but clearing.

Morgan swore, throwing himself furiously against the hold of the Hunters.

“Find the boy,” the wizard said.

Dazed, Kyri found herself lying on the floor.

It was as if she’d been emptied, scoured inside until she bled. Every muscle and bone ached.

Morgan. There was blood on him, bruises. It wrenched her.

Their eyes met, held...

Keeping still, letting her breathing even out, Kyri looked around quickly, moving only her eyes.

She was the only one free at the moment, despite the sickening weakness inside her.

Gordon, Caleb and Colton were all held, but none of them, not even Morgan, had been disarmed yet.

Neither had she.

Her sword belt was twisted against her hip, her belt knife pressed uncomfortably against her stomach, inches from the hand that was trapped beneath her. She worked her fingers toward it.

Her gaze returned to Morgan.

Only two Hunters now held him, as one disappeared to help in the search for Gawain.

She blinked.

Gawain. The children.

Fear shot through her at the thought.

Morgan looked at Kyri, as their eyes met and this time there was a spark of something in hers. She had something in mind.

She was so weak, though.

Carefully, Kyri drew power from the earth, from the living things around her, the grass and the trees, a trickle to gain strength.

“Disarm them,” the wizard said negligently, before turning his gaze. “High Marshal Morgan.” The man eyed Morgan. “You don’t seem so impressive now. Haerold is looking forward to having you back. This time he’s going to execute you. Publicly, so everyone knows for certain that this time you’re dead. You will be flogged, hanged, drawn and quartered in the square before all.”

Since that had yet to happen, Morgan was less than concerned about the threat – although he’d gone cold at the thought – than the more immediate one.

The children were in the barn, with Hunters searching for them and Kyri was at his feet.

Looking down at the still form at Morgan’s feet, the wizard said, “Now, to test the theory. You tasted good, little bird. Quite delicious.”

Morgan’s jaw tightened, but Kyri gazed at him intently.

He gave her a small nod, bracing himself and saw her lovely eyes close in relief.

Deliberately, the wizard slowly, obscenely, licked his lips.

“I think I’ll have another taste. Especially because our good High Marshal finds it so offensive.”

Abruptly Kyri found herself hanging in the air, again, drawn close as the wizard gestured.

Pain burst through her again, but this time she was prepared for it and for him.

Even as she cried out in agony, she reached with one hand to grab his shirt and with the other drove her belt-knife up hard beneath his breastbone.

“You should have disarmed me, first,” she snapped.

The wizard froze in disbelief as she rammed the blade home.

His eyes shot open.

Pain ripped through her, it was faltering but she was still weakening. She shoved harder.

Locked together, the wizard stared into her eyes.

She drove the knife deeper.

The pain stopped, some power flooded back into her.

Her knees were weak and she nearly stumbled when her feet hit the floor, but she, Morgan – none of them – could afford it if she missed.

Turning even as the dying wizard dropped to his knees beside her she flung the belt-knife at one of the Hunters holding Morgan.

For a moment Morgan thought they were lost and his heart nearly tore out of him when Kyri screamed, but then he saw the blade as she pulled it back before ramming it home again.

He braced himself.

They would only have this one chance.

Kyri dropped, swayed, but held, turning.

Her belt knife flew, taking the Hunter to his right clean in the throat.

Even as the wizard toppled backward, Kyri leaped over him, racing for the door.

She could do little good in here in such close quarters, but if she could draw some of the Hunters after her, if she could make it into the air…they might have a chance.

The Hunters were caught off guard, only Arthur trying to get in her way, but Kyri had her sword in hand.

She took him through his traitorous throat, shoving him aside to reach the door.

Three of the Hunters followed, one each from Morgan, Colton and Caleb.

Her feet hit the boards of the wide porch, her wings unfolded as some of the Hunters shook off surprise to give chase, leaping after her.

Morgan took advantage of the distraction to ram his shoulder into the Hunter on his left, slamming a fist into its face to drive it back as he drew his sword, burying it in the thing’s gut before wrenching it free again.

He turned, sword slashing, to take the head of one of those holding Colton, giving the man a chance to free himself as Morgan turned to drive his sword into another Hunter, releasing Caleb to turn on the other.

Colton drove his belt-knife into the one holding him, Kyri his inspiration, scrambling to his feet.

“My children,” he shouted.

“Go,” Morgan cried.

Colton raced for the kitchen and the door there.

Using Kyri’s example, Caleb, too, had made use of his belt-knife and now whipped his sword out, slashing at the Hunter who turned to face him. The remaining Hunter holding Gordon hesitated, fatally, as Morgan drove his sword into him. Then he spun.

Kyri.

The delay getting past Arthur was costly. Kyri heard the rush coming behind her and tried – even though she knew in the last instant she wouldn’t make it – for flight.

Glancing behind her she saw the Hunter coming and twisted, her wings folding instinctively, trying to avoid the Hunter’s leap.

She almost made it.

Almost.

Claws scraped across her hip, dragged her over as the Hunter’s momentum took him past her as she hit on her shoulder and tumbled.

Scrambling to her feet, she was barely in time to spin and dodge the next, twisting to try to avoid his claws. Unsuccessfully.

With a sharp snap of her sword, she drove another back. It yelped as she scored its shoulder.

Blood ran down her hip, tickling, a mild distraction compared to the pain there. That weakness, though… She needed time to draw energy, attention and concentration and she had neither.

She felt dizzy, sick…

One came in, fast and low, but she’d fought wolves before and was prepared for the tactic, ducking the one who leaped high. These acted more like animals now than men, forgoing their swords for claws and teeth.

They would devour her if they could.

She slashed and danced away, trying to will away the dark spots dancing in front of her eyes.

Growls and snarls could be heard from the battle outside. Morgan’s heart lurched. He glanced through the window to see Kyri snatched out of the air, roll to her feet and turn to face the next.

“Gordon,” Morgan said, “go help Colton. Caleb, you’re with me.”

Even as they burst through the doors Morgan saw the third leap at Kyri as she swayed. She saw it coming, knew she couldn’t get her sword up in time and threw her arm up to protect her vulnerable throat.

Jaws clamped on her arm, the impact driving her back as a second went low, slashing at her leg and she went down.

Morgan ran, Caleb only a step behind. Caleb took the second Hunter, driving it back as Morgan grabbed the collar of the one on Kyri and threw it backward, its jaws releasing her in its surprise.

The third came in as Kyri stumbled to her feet to guard his back, her wounded arm tucked against her stomach, her belt-knife in her free hand.

Even knowing she was dazed and wounded, the thing hesitated, her eyes were too aware. It paced, waiting for her to falter.

With Morgan’s life depending on her, she wouldn’t.

Morgan braced himself, acutely aware of a wounded Kyri at his back but still grateful for it. As long as she was there and alive, his back was safe, leaving him free to fight.

The thing in front of him paced, then turned in a sudden rush and leaped. Morgan met it with a two-handed swing that cut it in half.

Instantly, he swung one arm behind him, catching Kyri around her waist and holding her hard against him, turning to face the last as it leaped.

Caleb had finished battling his and had taken a good swipe for his troubles when he saw the last one going for the Captain and Kyri.

The Hunter twisted, avoiding Morgan’s swing, landing on its feet and coming again. Morgan drove it back and Caleb swung, hard, breaking the Hunter’s spine.

Colton and Gordon came out of the barn, both of them bloodied and battered, the children with them. Gawain had his sword in hand, looking a little dazed, a little satisfied, but unharmed. Little Angela clung to her father’s hand in shock, while young Brion looked stunned

“The boy did good, Morgan,” Gordon said proudly, his arm over Gawain’s shoulders.

Colton nodded, “He got the children up into the hayloft where the Hunters couldn’t reach them and kicked the ladder free. It was good thinking.”

It was, but Morgan was concerned about Kyri.

Keeping his arm around her, she quivered even as he drew her around in front of him, her legs giving way even as he got his other arm around her.

They all came running as Kyri collapsed in Morgan’s arms, shivering. Her fine-boned face was pale, her aquamarine eyes were dimmed. He brushed her hair back from her face and surveyed the damage as he eased her to the ground, her body trembling against him.

Her arm had been savaged by the Hunter. Bone showed through in some places. It made Morgan wince to see it and he couldn’t be sure the bones there hadn’t been broken. She was bleeding heavily. There were deep scratches on her hip where the one Hunter had caught her, more at the back of her leg.

Colton took one look and ran into the house, coming out with a blanket to wrap around her and some cloth to bandage her wounds.

As much as he hated to say it, knowing it would only add to Kyri’s suffering, Morgan said, “Colton, we can’t stay here. Neither can you. They know now.”

There was no choice. They had to leave and quickly

It was there in Colton’s face, though, the same knowledge.