by Nora Roberts
“As you wish, Majesty.”
“I wonder if he spoke the truth,” Lora said when they were alone again. “Of if he hesitated to strike his power against theirs.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Lilith couldn’t let it matter, not this close to the fulfillment of all she coveted. “When everything is as I want it, when I crush these humans, drink their children, he’ll have outlived his uses.”
“Certainement. And his power could be turned against you once he has what he wants. What do you propose to do about him?”
“I’m going to make a meal of him.”
“Share?”
“Only with you.”
She continued to stand, watching the training. But the music, the damned music soured her mood.
It was late when Cian lay beside Moira. In these last hours, their circle was in three parts. He’d seen the fire flare and the candle flames flash, and knew Hoyt and Glenna were wrapped in each other.
As he’d been with Moira. As he imagined Larkin was with Blair.
“It was always meant to be this way,” Moira said quietly. “The six of us making the circle, with each of us forming a stronger link with another. To gather together, to learn of and from one another. To know love. And this house is bright with love tonight. It’s another kind of magic, and as powerful as any other. We have that, whatever comes.”
She lifted her head to look down at him. “What I asked you to do was a betrayal.”
“There’s no need for that.”
“No, I want to tell you what I know, as much as I know anything. It was a betrayal of you, of myself, of the others and all we’ve done. You were stronger, and now so am I. I love you with everything I am. That’s a gift for both of us. Nothing can take it or change it.”
She lifted the locket he wore. It held more than a lock of her hair, she thought. It held her love. “Don’t leave this behind when you go. I want to know you have it, always.”
“It goes where I go. My word on that. I love you with everything I am, and all I can’t be.”
She laid the locket back over his heart, then a hand over the stillness. Tears filled her, but she fought to hold them. “No regrets?”
“None.”
“For either of us. Love me again,” she murmured. “Love me again, one last time before dawn.”
It was tender and slow, a savoring of every touch, every taste. Long, soft kisses were a kind of drug against any pain, silky caresses a balm over wounds that must be endured. She told herself her heart beat hard and strong enough for both of them now, this last time.
Her eyes stayed open and on his, drinking in his face so that at the peak of pleasure she saw him slide away with her.
“Tell me again,” she murmured. “Once more.”
“I love you. Eternally.”
Then they lay together in the quiet. All the words had been said.
In the last hour before dawn they rose, the six, to prepare for the final march to battle.
They went on horse, on dragon, on foot, in wagons and carts. Above, clouds shifted over the sky, but didn’t block out the sun. It beamed through them in shimmering fingers and sudden flashes to light the way to Silence.
The first arrived to lay traps in the shadows and in the caves while guards flew or rode over and around the valley with their eyes trained for any attack.
And there found traps laid for them. Under a man’s feet, a pool of blood would spread, sucking him down. Ooze, black as pitch, bubbled up to burn through boots and into flesh.
“Midir’s work,” Hoyt spat as others ran to save who they could.
“Block it,” Cian ordered. “We’ll have a panic on our hands before we start.”
“Half-vamps.” Blair shouted the warning from dragon-back. “About fifty. First line, let’s go.” She dived down to lead the charge.
Arrows flew, and swords slashed. In the first hour, the Geallian forces were down fifteen men. But they held ground.
“They just wanted us to have a taste of it.” With her face splattered with blood, Blair dismounted. “We gave them a bigger one.”
“The dead and wounded have to be tended to.” Steeling herself, Moira looked at the fallen, then away. “Hoyt’s pushing back Midir’s spell. How much is it costing him?”
“He’ll have whatever he needs to have. I’m going up again, do a couple of circles. See if she’s got any more surprises for us.” Blair vaulted back on her dragon. “Hold the line.”
“We weren’t as prepared as we might have been for the traps, for a daylight attack.” Sheathing his stained sword, Larkin stepped to Moira. “But we did well. We’ll do better yet.”
He laid a hand on her arm, drawing her away so only she would hear. “Glenna says some are already here, under the ground. Hoyt can’t work with her now, but she thinks between herself and Cian they can find at least some, and deal with it.”
“Good. Even a handful will be a victory. I need to steady the archers.”
The sun moved to midday, then beyond it. Twice she saw the ground open up where Glenna held a willow rod. Then the flash of fire as the thing burrowed in the earth caught the sun and flamed in it.
How many more, she wondered. A hundred? Five hundred?
“He’s broken off.” Hoyt swiped a hand over his sweaty face when he joined her. “Midir’s traps are closed.”
“You beat him back.”
“I can’t say. He may have gone to other work. But for now, he’s blocked. This ground, it shakes the soul of a man. It pours up this evil it holds, all but chokes the breath. I’ll help Cian and Glenna.”
“No, you need to rest a few moments, save your energies. I’ll help them.”
Knowing he needed to gather himself, Hoyt nodded. But his eyes were grim as he scanned the valley, passed over where Glenna and Cian worked. “They won’t be able to find them all. Not in this ground.”
“No. But every one is one less.”
Still when she reached Glenna, Moira could see the work was taking its toll. Glenna was pale, her skin clammy as Hoyt’s had been. “It’s time to rest,” Moira told her. “Restore yourself. I’ll work it awhile.”
“It’s beyond your power. It’s on the edge of mine.” Grateful, Glenna took the water bag Moira offered. “We’ve only unearthed a dozen. A couple more hours—”
“She needs to stop. You need to stop.” Cian took Glenna’s arm. “You’re nearly tapped out, you know it. If you don’t have anything left come sundown, what good will you be?”
“I know there are more. A lot more.”
“Then we’ll be ready when this ground spits them out. Go. Hoyt needs you. He’s worn himself thin.”
“Good strategy,” Cian told Moira when Glenna walked away. “Using Hoyt.”
“It is, but it’s also true enough. We’re draining them both. And you,” she added. “I can hear in your voice how tired you are. So I’ll say what you said to her. What good are you if you’re worn out by sundown?”
“The bloody cloak smothers me. Then again, the alternative’s not pleasant. I need to feed,” he admitted.
“Then go, up to the high ground and see to it. We’ve done nearly all we can, all we set out to do by this time.”
She saw Blair and Larkin with Hoyt and Glenna now. The six of them, together as the sun sank lower might push their strengths up again. They went across the broken ground, climbed over an island of pocked rock, and began up the hard slope.
Everything in her wanted to shudder when they reached the ridge. Even without Midir’s spell, the ground seemed to pull at her feet.
Cian took out a water bag she knew held blood.
“Waiting on you,” Blair began. “A lot of your troops have the jitters.”
“If you’re meaning they won’t stand and fight—”
“Don’t get all Geallian pride on me.” Blair held up a hand for peace. “What they need is to hear from you, to get revved. They need their St. Crispin’s Day speech.”
“What’s this?”
Blair arched her brows at Cian. “Guess you missed Henry V when you mowed through Cian’s library.”
“There were a lot of books, after all.”
“It’s about stirring them up,” Glenna explained. “About getting them ready to fight, even die. Reminding them why they’re here, inspiring them.”
“I’m to do all of that?”
“No one else would have the same impact.” Cian closed the water bag. “You’re the queen, and while the rest of us might be generals, in a manner of speaking, you’re the one they look to.”
“I wouldn’t know what to say.”
“You’ll think of something. While you are, Larkin and I will get your troops together. Add a little Braveheart to Henry,” he said to Blair. “Get her on horseback.”
“Excellent.” Blair headed off to get Cian’s horse.
“What did this Henry say?” Moira wondered.
“What they needed to hear.” Glenna gave Moira’s hand a squeeze. “So will you.”
Chapter 20
“I don’t have a thing in my head.”
“It’s not going to come from there. Or not only from there.” Glenna handed Moira her circlet. “Head and heart, remember? Listen to both and whatever you say, it’ll be the right thing.”
“Then I wish you’d say it instead. Foolish to be afraid of speaking to them,” Moira said with a weak smile. “And not as afraid to die with them.”
“Put this on.” Blair held out Moira’s cloak. “Good visual, the cloak billowing in the wind. And speak up, kiddo. You have to project to the ones in the peanut gallery.”
“I’ll ask you what that means later.” Moira took one huffing breath, then mounted the stallion. “Here we go then.”
She walked the horse forward, then her heart gave a hard thud. There were her people, more than a thousand strong, standing with the valley at their backs. Even as the sun dipped lower in the sky, it glinted off sword and shield and lance. It washed over their faces, those who had come here, ready to give their lives.
And her head understood the words in her heart.
“People of Geall!”
They cheered as she trotted her horse in front of their lines. Even those already wounded called out her name.
“People of Geall, I am Moira, warrior queen. I am your sister; I am your servant. We have come to this time and this place by order of the gods, and so, to serve the gods. I know not all of your faces, all of your names, but you are mine, every man and woman here.”
The wind caught at her cloak as she looked into those faces. “Tonight, when the sun sets, I ask you to fight, to stand this bitter ground that has already tasted our blood this day. I ask this of you, but you don’t fight for me. You don’t fight for the queen of Geall.”
“We fight for Moira, the queen!” someone shouted. And again, her name rose up above the wind in cheers and chants.
“No, you don’t fight for me! You don’t fight for the gods. You don’t fight for Geall, not this night. You don’t fight for yourselves, or even your children. Not for your husbands, your wives. Your mothers and fathers.”
They quieted as she continued to ride the lines, looking into those faces, meeting those eyes, “It’s not for them you come here to this bitter valley, knowing your blood may spill on its ground. It’s for all humankind you come here. For all humankind you stand here. You are the chosen. You are the blessed. All the worlds and every heart that beats in them is your heart now, your world now. We, the chosen, are one world, one heart, one purpose.”
Her cloak snapped in the wind as the stallion pranced, and the dying sun glinted on the gold of her crown, the steel of her sword. “We will not fail this night. We cannot fail this night. For when one of us falls, there will be another to lift the sword, the lance, to fight with stake and fist the pestilence that threatens humanity and all it is. And if that next of us should fall, there will come another and another, and still more for we are the world here, and the enemy has never known the like of us.”
Her eyes were like hell-smoke in a face illuminated with passion. Her voice soared over the air so the words rang out, strong and clear.
“Here, on this ground, we will drive them down even past hell.” She continued to shout over the cheers that rippled and rose from the men and women like a wave. “We will not yield this night, we will not fail this night, but will stand and triumph this night. You are the heart they can never have. You are the breath and the light they will never know again. This night, they will sing of this Samhain, sing of The Battle of Silence, in every generation that comes after. They will sit by their fires and speak of the glory of what we do here. This night. The sun sets.”
She drew her sword, pointed west where the sun had begun to bleed red. “Come the dark, we’ll raise sword and heart and mind against them. And as the gods witness this, I swear it, we will raise the sun.”
She sent fire rippling down the blade of her sword, and shooting into the sky.
“Not too shabby,” Blair managed as the troops erupted with shouts and cheers. “Your girl’s got a way with words.”
“She’s…brilliant.” Cian kept his eyes on her. “How can they stand against that much light?”
“She spoke the truth,” Hoyt stated. “They’ve never seen the likes of us.”
The squadron leaders split the troops so they began to move into position. Moira rode back, dismounted.
“It’s time,” she said and held out her hands.
The six formed a circle to forge that final bond. Then released each other.
“See you on the flip side.” Blair flashed a gleaming smile. “Go get ’em, cowboy.” She leaped on her dragon, then shot skyward.
Larkin swung onto his own. “Last one to the pub when this is done buys the round.” He flew up, and away from Blair.
“Blessed be. And let’s kick ass.” With Hoyt, Glenna started toward their posts, but she’d seen the look that had passed between the brothers. “What’s going on with Cian? Don’t lie this close to what might be bloody death.”
“He asked for my word. If we’re able to bring the spell into play, he asked for my word we not wait for him.”
“But we can’t—”
“It was the last he asked of me. Pray we won’t have to make the choice.”
Behind them, Moira stood with Cian. “Fight well,” she said to him, “and live another thousand years.”
“My fondest hope.” He covered the lie by taking her hands a last time, pressing them to his lips. “Fight well, mo croi, and live.”
Before she could speak again, he’d leaped onto his horse and galloped away.
From the air, Blair called out commands, directing her mount with her legs and scanning the ground for what would come with the dark. The sun fell, plunging the valley into night, and in that night, the ground erupted. They poured out of the ground, from earth, from rock, from crevice, in numbers too great to count.
“Show time,” she whispered to herself, swinging south as arrows from Moira and her archers rained down. “Hold them, hold them.” A quick glance to where Niall’s foot soldiers’ voices rose like chants told her Niall was waiting for the signal.
A little longer, a little more, she thought as vampires swarmed up the valley, as arrows pierced some, missed others.
She flashed the firesword and dove. As men charged, she yanked the rope on her harness, dropping the first bomb.
Fire and flaming shrapnel flew, and there were screams as vampires were engulfed. And still they spewed from the ground pushing their lines toward the Geallians.
Freed of his cloak, Cian sat his horse, his sword raised to hold the men at his back. Bombs exploded fire, scorching the enemy and the ground. But they came, slinking and slithering, clawing and leaping. On a cry of battle, Cian slashed his sword and led his troops into the firestorm.
With flashing hooves and hacking steel, he cleaved a hole in the advancing army’s line. It closed again, surrounding him and his forces.
Screams came in a torrent.
On her sloping plateau, Moira gripped her battle-ax. Her heart knocked in her throat as she saw the vampires break through the line to the east. She led the charge even as Hoyt led his so that they took their warriors in a stream of steel and stake to flank the enemy’s lines.
Over the screams, the crashes, the fire, came the trumpeting call of dragons. The next wave of Lilith’s army was advancing.
“Arrows!” Moira shouted as her quiver emptied, and another, filled, was tossed at her feet.
She notched and loosed, notched and loosed until the air was so full of smoke the bow was useless.
She raised the fiery sword and rushed with her line into the thick of it.
Of all she’d feared, all she’d known, all she’d seen in the visions the gods had given her, what came through the smoke and stink was worse. Men and women already slaughtered, ash of vanquished enemy coating the bitter ground like fetid snow. Blood spurted like a fall of water, painting the yellowed grass red.
Shrieks, human and vampire, echoed in the dark under the pale, three-quarter moon.
She blocked a sword strike, and her body moved with the instinct of hard training to spin, to pivot, to block the next. When she leaped over a low slash, she felt the wind of the sword under her boots, and with a scream of her own slashed for the throat.
Through the haze she saw the dragon that held Blair spiraling to the ground with its side pierced with arrows. The ground was littered with stakes. Grabbing one in her free hand, she rushed forward, then flung it through the back and into the heart of one who charged at Blair.
“Thanks. Duck.” Blair shoved Moira aside, and severed the sword arm of another. “Larkin.”
“I don’t know. They keep coming.”
“Remember your own hype.” Blair leaped up, striking with her feet, then rammed a stake through the one she’d kicked.
Then she was lost in the waves of smoke, and Moira was once again battling for her life.
As Blair hacked through the line, they closed in around her. She struck, sword, stake, fought to gain ground. And was suddenly soaked. As her attackers screamed from the flood of blessed water that rained down from above, Larkin flew out of the smoke, grabbing her lifted arm to haul her up behind him.
“Nice job,” she told him. “Drop me off. There, big, flat rock.”
“You drop me. It’s my time to have a go down here. You’re out of water, but there are two fireballs. She’s pushing in hard from the south now.”
“I’ll give her some heat.”
He leaped off, and she soared.
Through the melee, Hoyt searched with his eyes, with his power. He felt the brush of Midir’s dark, but there was so much black, so much cold, he wasn’t sure of its direction.
Then he saw Glenna, fighting her way back up a ridge. And standing on it like a black crow, was Midir. In horror, he watched a hand snake out of a fold of earth and rock and grab Glenna’s leg. In his mind he heard her scream as she kicked, as she clawed to keep from being dragged into the crevice. Even knowing he was too far away, he rushed through swords. Continued to run even when the fire she shot from fingertips coated what dragged at her.
Sensing power, Midir hurled lightning, black as pitch, and had her flying back.
Mad with fear, Hoyt fought like a wild man, ignoring blows and gashes as he worked his way toward her. He could see the blood on her face as she answered Midir’s lightning with white fire.