“We’ll see about that,” Lorelei stopped in front of the sword.
Her hand itched to touch it. She wanted to wrap her fingers around the pommel with its skull head and feel the weight of the sword in her hand.
The world around her faded, the sounds from the surrounding faerie becoming muffled. The light of the setting sun dimmed to darkness and the sword hung before her, glowing with a green light.
Are you strong enough to claim me? A male tenor filled her mind.
Lorelei shook her head. “What are you?”
Battle me and I will give you my name. I am he who can cut down your enemies and leave a river of blood at our feet.
Lorelei raised an eyebrow. “How am I supposed to battle a sword?”
We pit our wills against each other. If you are weak, I shall claim you.
Lorelei crossed her arms. Now even swords were challenging her. Was she such a pushover that she could be a doormat for anything that came along? No. The blood of Moura flowed in her veins just as much as it did in Freya’s. She wasn’t going to let a weapon get the better of her. She reached out.
“Good luck,” the ankou girl whispered.
Lorelei glanced at her with the sword gripped in her hand before the green light encompassed her.
The moon hung high in the sky and the cool breeze carried the sweet scent of the roses that surrounded Lorelei. She stood on her tiptoes and tried to peer over the looming bushes. It was no good. She would have to keep moving forward.
Where was Arryn? He’d promised he would meet her here tonight.
Tonight would be special. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach at the thought of it.
Tonight, she would tell him.
A green light flickered from around the corner of the rose maze. Lorelei’s heart pounded in her chest. Could that be him? She picked up her skirts and raced forward. She rounded the corner and stepped into a circular clearing.
A male stood in the middle. He wasn’t Arryn. His black hair was pulled back into a topknot that was banded every few inches and dragged across the ground as he moved. His chest was bare, revealing brown, tattooed skin. His viridian eyes seemed to glow.
“This is what you dream of, little girl?” He chuckled. “Why do you play at an adventure when there are battles to be had?”
This wasn’t right. Where was Arryn? Could this male be one of the spirits said to haunt this place at night?
Lorelei swallowed the unease inside her. The surrounding roses wilted into blackened husks, their petals dropping to the ground.
No spirit would do that.
In an instant he was in front of her, his hand clutching hers. She gasped at the black veins that raced up her arm.
“You have already taken me up,” he said. “Surrender to me and become my vessel.”
She tried to yank her hand away as the blackness continued to climb in her veins. “Who are you?”
The world flashed green. She blinked to find herself before a great sandstone wall. Shouts and clamors of metal filled her ears and warriors trampled over their fallen to assault the barrier. The sun beat down on her from above, casting a red sheen over the desert. She licked her parched lips and scanned the dead. Where was she?
The voice echoed over the shouts of the men. “I was once The Harvester of the Fallen.”
Most of the warriors gravitated towards a giant gate to the left. She shouldered her way through with a large spear gripped in her hand. A small part of her wondered at this, but the part than controlled her body thought this was normal.
A bright green arc burst from the center of the battle and bodies flew past her, disappearing in the hoard behind her. A male stood in front of the gate, facing the army with a viridian sword in his hand. His hair, spotted like a leopard, was plastered to his forehead and his leather armor hung in shreds on his body. In two quick slashes, he brought down five more men. With a roar, she lifted her spear and rushed towards him.
He slid to the side and ran his sword through her. Pain coursed through her chest as the blade pierced her heart. The spear fell from her limp hand and she fell to her knees with the sword still stuck in her. It shimmered green in the sun. She gasped as the black in her veins covered her shoulders. This wasn’t right. She’d never seen the desert, let alone fought in any way.
“Who are you?” Blood splattered on her lips as she choked the words out.
Green light filled her sight.
She stood beside her mother’s chair in their throne room. Her heart raced as she looked down at Arryn and his father. The time had come. He was going to ask for her hand. She couldn’t keep the smile from her face.
Arryn’s father bowed. “Lord Moura, I have come before you to propose a joining of our families.”
Her father straightened up with a smile. “This is wonderful news. Arryn, whose hand have you come to ask for?”
Arryn avoided Lorelei’s gaze. “Lady Freya’s, my lord.”
The world began to spin around her. She gripped the back of mother’s chair and stifled a gasp. She must have misheard. This couldn’t be true.
Freya beamed down at Arryn from her place behind her father’s seat. Her mother nodded with a smile of approval as her father accepted the offer. The world seemed to have forgotten Lorelei’s existence. Time froze and her gaze fell on the curved, viridian sword lying on the pedestal before her.
“I am the heart of The Forger of Infinite Fires. Take me up and slaughter them.” The voice echoed from the sword. “They have betrayed you. Let them be the first in the sea of dead we shall create.”
She stretched her hand towards the sword and paused. How would this change things? It wouldn’t give her Arryn.
“It will give you vengeance.” The sword said.
“I don’t want vengeance.” she said. “I want Arryn. I love him. I would never kill him.”
The sword’s voice grew heavy with sorrow. “You know nothing of love, little girl.”
“Who are you?” she asked.
The green light spread from the sword, glowing brighter and brighter.
She found herself floating above the desert battle. The leopard haired phooka now stood on a pile of bodies as he cut down more. He was panting and bright green blood was pouring from the deep wounds in his torso. He gripped the sword as he scanned the oncoming warriors and gave a slight nod. He spun, letting the blade of the sword follow his path. A viridian wave emanated from the blade and swept across the army. Men clutched their throats and howled in pain. The light faded into the horizon and the army lay dead before the gates of the city.
The male collapsed atop his fallen enemies. The sword tumbled from his hand. It flickered and the brown skinned male with viridian eyes stood in place of the sword. He lifted the phooka up and cradled him in his arms. A green tear trailed down his cheek as he carried him through the gates of the city.
Lorelei’s heart ached for him and she swallowed the lump in her throat.
“You loved him and he died,” she said.
The viridian eyed male appeared before her and bowed his head. “I am the Light of Lament.”
Lorelei crossed her arms. “That’s your name?”
He smirked. “It is who I am. You have bested me. What is your name, little girl?”
“Lorelei ap Moura.”
“Interesting.” He bowed. “Lorelei, you are now the wielder of Murgleis.”
He disappeared, and Lorelei held the sword in her hand.
“For now.” His voice echoed in the encroaching darkness. “In the end, we shall see who wields who.”
13
The murmur of voices pulled Lorelei out of her reverie. Murgleis’s spell had broken and the surrounding people were rubbing their faces and gazing around with confused expressions.
A shout echoed as a young male and female pixie embraced each other. Others began chattering to each other. The ankou Lorelei had spoken with earlier was holding the hand of a phooka boy with long locks of brown and black hair. Two wolf ears poke
d out atop his head. The ankou nodded in Lorelei’s direction and the phooka’s gaze followed. The side of his mouth curled in a lopsided grin and he trotted over with the ankou trailing behind him.
“Ora says we have you to thank for freeing us. I came here to release these people, but I got ensnared myself.” He raised one hand to scratch the back of his head as his grin turned sheepish. Then he held out his other hand to her as if an afterthought. “I’m Wes, by the way.”
“Lorelei ap Moura.” She took his hand.
Ora bowed her head. “Thank you for your help.”
“So, what do you plan to do with that thing?” Wes’s gaze slid to Murgleis with an expression mixed with disgust and curiosity.
“I’m not sure, yet,” Lorelei said. “For now, it stays with me.”
“Are you sure you can control it? I mean, it’s a Sluagh, right?” Wes asked. “I might know someone who could take it off your hands.”
A Sluagh. Lorelei bit the inside of her cheek. In contesting this thing to save the people, she’d somehow bound herself to a Sluagh. She would have to be careful. If the tales were true, such a thing could devour her soul.
She straightened her shoulders. “That’s all right. I have pitted my will against it and won. I’d rather not have another incident like this happen.”
“Yeah.” Wes sighed. “Well, you should be careful. Sluagh are vicious tricksters, and I’m saying that.”
“I will.” Lorelei glanced around, then murmured almost to herself, “These people will probably need help getting to Nearon.”
“Oh, Ora and I can do that. We come and go through Winderward all the time. Well, before...” He nodded to the sword. “We can get you back, too.”
“Thanks, but I can’t leave yet.” Her gaze fell on the horizon. Were those buildings out there? “I still have friends I need to find.”
Wes gave a soft whistle. “Good luck with that.”
Lorelei let out her breath in a soft laugh. Even the phooka was dubious.
Ora nudged him and whispered in his ear. He nodded, reached his pocket, and pulled out a silver coin with a serpent embossed on it. “Look, if you make it back to Nearon and need help, just pass this to one of the beggars. It’ll get back to me...or someone who can repay what I owe ya.”
Lorelei closed her hand around the coin and smiled at him. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind. Do you have any idea how I can get to the city part of Winderward?”
“Walk toward the horizon with your goal in mind,” Ora said. “Winderward seems to work on the principle of will and desire.”
“Great,” Lorelei muttered. “Well, thanks for the advice. I need to start looking for my friends again.”
She waved at them and moved to the edge of the hill. Wes’s voice rang in the air, calling to the other faerie on the hill.
Lorelei paused at the edge and stared down at Murgleis then to her belt. The sword was sharp enough that it might cut through her belt. She had some rope in her bag. Did he even have a sheath?
I do, his voice whispered in her mind. It has been lost to me, though.
Lorelei jumped and glanced down at Murgleis.
Surprised? Did you expect me to remain silent from now on?
“No,” she whispered. “That just takes some getting used to.”
You don’t have to speak. Your thoughts are open to me. Your deepest fears and greatest desires.
“Great. I’m carrying an extreme voyeur around. Right now, I desire to find my companions. Can you help lead me through Winderward?” She asked.
I am not a compass, which would never work in Winderward, anyway. The ankou girl gave you the best advice.
“Fine.” That still left the issue of how to carry him.
She pulled off her backpack, set the sword on the ground, and opened the flap of her pack. Digging past her water, food, and lantern, she pulled out a length of rope. It was longer than she needed. Vaana had probably intended she use it for climbing, but she could use a little. She cut a small length and used it to tie Murgleis to her belt. Now ready to move, Lorelei hopped from the small ledge and landed on the incline.
She envisioned Vaana and Vandermere as she picked her way down the hill. The memory of Vandermere’s husky chuckle sent warm shivers down her spine. Vaana’s smirk always appeared on her face in every image. Though she hadn’t been smirking when the stones had struck her when the power of gods had entered her. A chill ran through her as something danced on the edge between her consciousness and subconscious. A sensation of falling from an infinitely high space filled her and she pitched forward.
The ground came rushing towards her and met with her shoulder, shooting a spike of pain through her. She yelled, trying to grab onto a root or rock to no avail as she continued to tumble down the hill. Instead of the mud of the marsh, she was met with hard cobblestone at the bottom. With a groan, she picked herself up then halted. Her mouth gaped as she stared at the wide road and buildings that surrounded her.
She sputtered. “What in Gehenna is going on here?”
Gehenna, indeed, Murgleis’s voice echoed in her mind. This city shall remain ever shifting so no faerie will rule it again.
“Why? What happened?”
A college of sorcerers sought to bind what they could never comprehend, much less control.
“My companion Vaana mentioned little gods. So, it would be one of those?”
Murgleis’s laugh rattled around in her head. No, I know nothing of what ruled this city before. I speak of Abaddon.
“Let me guess, a Sluagh.”
Of course.
Lorelei crossed her arms with a huff. “I’m not stupid, you know.”
Just ignorant.
“Ignorance can be remedied by knowledge, so enlighten me.”
Murgleis remained quiet for several moments. Lorelei scanned the street in front of her. It looked similar to the street they’d entered the city on, except the road continued on in both directions instead of the gate and wall.
She wasn’t going to find the others if she just stood here. They’d either traveled to the church or a library. She would have to search the city to find either.
Which direction should she choose, though?
Very well, Murgleis said.
“Oh, good,” Lorelei muttered as she strode down the right street. “A story to make my walk more interesting.”
The College of Sorcery sought to bind Abaddon for their power. However, they did not realize the power she had. She crossed the Eternal Desert and appeared in Winderward. When she did, the binding meant to hold her in place broke.
“So, she killed them?” Lorelei asked.
Oh, no, she had much worse planned. The whole city would pay for their ignorance, Murgleis said. She danced. With each footfall, the earth cracked open and with each sway of her body, lightning rained down upon Winderward.
As Murgleis weaved his story, Lorelei picked her way through the rubble-ridden street, keeping watch for her companions or any Fomorians waiting to ambush her. Goosebumps pricked at her arms. She didn’t like the silence of the city, especially with Murgleis’s words ringing in her mind. It also didn’t mesh with the memory she had. It seems like she’d been wrong.
“That doesn’t explain why the city shifts.” Lorelei paused at a crossroads before turning left. A wave of familiarity washed over her, like she’d walked these streets before.
The magic went wild with her dance and in one night, the city fell. It will remain this way until Abaddon or one as powerful as her removes the curse.
“Could you do it?”
Murgleis gave a bitter laugh. No. I am mighty, but she is something else. Abaddon is the child of something else. Perhaps a god.
She stopped. “Gods? And how are they different from little gods?”
Power.
“Is it normal for these gods to have Sluagh children?”
No, he said. Abaddon was not always that way. Something changed her.
“What?”
�
��I know not.”
Lorelei’s lips curved up. “It looks like I’m not the only one who is ignorant.”
Murgleis remained silent.
Lorelei chuckled to herself as she turned a corner around a four-story ruin. Her chuckle shifted to a gasp. Rising up at the end of the street, several blocks away, stood an ancient temple, gleaming in the sunlight.
Lorelei’s heart raced at the sight of the temple. It took up a majority of the square it stood in, looming over the other buildings by several stories.
There was a lot to explore in such a place.
“This had to be the temple Vaana was talking about,” Lorelei murmured. “If they are anywhere, they would be here.”
Unless your friends have become lost, Murgleis said. Forever trapped in ever-changing Winderward.
“No.” Lorelei gulped and pressed her lips together. “Vandermere knows how this place works and Vaana came in prepared to find…things.”
She chewed the inside of her cheek as she stared up at the temple. Its walls held the sheen of a metal Lorelei had never seen before, pale but brighter than silver. A stone bridge created a road over the flowing stream that surrounded the temple to the wide steps that took up the entire street, large enough for a caravan to travel. At the top of the steps was a diamond shaped entryway.
“Well,” she said, “I should check to see if they are inside. Vaana would not wait for me.”
She crossed the bridge, searching for any sign her friends had come this way. Vines had overtaken the sides of the bridge and moss had grown on most of the cobblestone bricks. There were no footprints. Could she really be the first one here? She had to have wandered through the Marsh for a while and who knew how long her battle with Murgleis took.
She shook her head. She refused to believe that Vaana and Vandermere had become lost in Winderward. Either way, it was foolish to go searching for them more with the city shifting. Vaana had planned to find the temple. Lorelei would wait for her here.
She climbed the steps and stopped in front of the diamond shaped double doors. A sense of nostalgia filled her as she placed her hand on the large metal handle. How long had it been since she graced these halls?
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