The wind whips my hair about my face, setting the plant covering the central stone block aquiver. The leaves rustle violently and I flinch as the sharp edge of one cuts my little finger open.
I suck in my breath as a soft, warm glow envelops the leaf that sliced me, as if a taste of my blood was all it needed to become sentient. I watch, mesmerized, as the glow spreads through its stem to the top of its crown where a large, velvety flower opens up.
Unable to tear my gaze away from the violet and golden petals, I reach forward and, before I realize what I’m doing, I have my hand around its wide stalk.
A dazzling light explodes from the flower and I have to shield my eyes against its intensity. I yelp as vines stretch out to wrap themselves around my bound wrist like slithering snakes, breaking through its chain, before moving on to my arm and holding me in place. Then, like a green wave, the plant unfolds itself, falling away onto the altar to reveal a long broadsword, the blade stuck inside the stone, its hilt held firmly in my grasp.
“Finally,” a voice crackles in my ear.
Cold, sharp fingers close around mine. The weapon responds with a sharp flare that dwindles down to a soft glow as Dub’s arm forces mine to slowly pull the sword out.
“Mine,” Dub coos in his scratchy voice.
I can feel Dub’s poison pumping into my veins and watch my arm turn black in the glow of the sword, the soft light pulsing along with my rapid heartbeat.
“Morgan, Morgan, Morgan,” a low drawl rings out in the chill air, “ain’t nobody ever told ya not to dig for water under the outhouse?”
“Percy?” I croak, confused as to the boy’s presence.
He must have followed me somehow, but I barely have the time to say his name when Dub gets shoved into me.
Dub’s grip loosens from around mine as he swings around to face his new attacker. No longer pinned down, I slide down the side of the altar and the light emanating from the sword dies out, its blade sliding back into place.
I watch in fear as Percy slashes his sword across the Shade, but the weapon glances off Dub’s cowl without touching him. Using his momentum, Percy twists around the Fey then thrusts his sword up, but Dub easily moves out of reach. With a growl, Percy redoubles his efforts, his blade dancing before him so quickly my vision seems to quadruple.
Then a green sparks explodes in the air, catching Dub off guard. The shadows around Dub split, and Percy lunges forward, his sharp blade ripping the Shade’s cowl in half. Dub’s decomposing face comes momentarily into view, staring malevolently at Percy, before the shadows close over it once again, and the Shade counterattacks.
At first, the blows don’t seem to faze Percy much, and he deflects them easily. But as the onslaught grows quicker, the knight seems to falter and I watch, with growing horror, as he takes one step back after another.
I lick my lips, tasting the salt of my sweat on them. At this pace, Percy’s going to end up dead. I look around desperately— why hasn’t anyone else arrived to help?
My eyes fall on the broadsword still sticking out of the stone, the ruby of its eyeball-sized pommel dully reflecting the dawning light.
I edge around the altar, my hand instinctively reaching out for the weapon, eager to feel the smoothness of the grip on its palm again. My fingers graze the head of one of the twin chimeras that form its quillon43, receiving an answering glow from the sword. But before I can firmly grasp the hilt, Dub’s growling face suddenly appears across the altar from me.
I yelp and fall backwards in shock, like a thief caught red-handed.
“Mine,” Dub’s guttural voice says.
His skeletal hand hovers about the sword without touching it and it dawns on me…
“You can’t touch it, can you?” I say, struggling to stand back up onto. “At least not without getting zapped.”
The black mists whirl about Dub angrily, yet he doesn’t try to grip the sword. As I thought.
“That’s why you need me,” I say, taunting him.
I slowly circle the altar, keeping the large stone between me and the Shade. The longer I keep his attention on me, the greater the chance of Percy getting out of here alive.
I try to smile despite my fear. “Now tell me, what is it about this sword that’s so tempting?” I ask. “Apart from the fact that it’s obviously Fey.”
I glide my finger down the flat of the blade, and the answering blaze has Dub shrinking away, closer to Percy who’s waiting for it, sword raised.
But just as Percy’s about to bring it down over the Shade, thunder rumbles across the island, the ice over the lake cracking open, and two bubbles of green zoom up into the sky. Behind them, large clouds are rolling in, blotting out the sun’s first rays, threatening us with more snow.
“Arthur,” I whisper, momentarily forgetting what I was up to.
I feel the cold of Dub’s hands as the Fey grips me by the neck, cutting off my breathing.
“Let her go!” Arthur yells, diving for me, Blanchefleur a second behind.
Dub bends backward, using me as a shield against the oncoming attack, forcing Arthur and Blanchefleur to swerve out of the way to avoid skewering me.
Then Dub unleashes a blast of darkness at their retreating backs, lightning bolts streaking through the thick vapor, catching Blanchefleur in the side.
The Fey warrior lets out a strangled cry as the poisonous shadows envelop her, and she crashes to the ground.
A loud, blood-curdling howl rises in response, and out of the corner of my eyes, I see Percy storm toward us. Dub’s hold around me tightens.
“Percy?” I say, as the end of the knight’s sword draws closer and closer.
But Percy doesn’t seem to have heard me: His eyes are fixed, veins bulging on his forehead, his mouth open wide in a cry of rage.
“Percy!” I shriek.
His sword glints as it swings down and I close my eyes against the oncoming blow. The sound of metal bouncing off metal rings out in a deafening clash, then someone yanks on my arm and out of Dub’s icy hold.
“Hurry!” Arthur bellows, forcing me away from the Shade as fast as possible.
I try to follow him, but my legs won’t hold me anymore and I stumble down. With a quick look backward, Arthur lifts me up in his arms to carry me the rest of the way.
“What about the others?” I ask.
“They’ll have to hold without us,” Arthur says through gritted teeth. “I need you to be safe first, and that includes staying away from Percy when he’s gone berserk.”
Over his shoulder, I can see the knight still fighting Dub, his rage giving him a speed and strength I have never witnessed in a human before. The air between them is streaked with colors of all hues as Percy alternates between elemental attacks, forcing Dub to retreat back up the hill towards the abandoned house.
But just as it looks like Percy’s going to win, Dub spins away and Percy’s sword ricochets off one of the standing stones in a shower of sparks.
“Where is he?” I ask, twisting in Arthur’s arm to keep my eyes on the battle scene.
And then I see the dark mass of Dub’s poisonous mists back at the foot of the altar, the Shade’s hand closing around the sword. I strain in Arthur’s arms as pain lances down my body, and I scream.
“Morgan?”
Arthur’s voice barely breaks through the haze of pain and I scarcely feel the ground beneath me as he lowers me back down.
Bright flashes burst behind my eyelids, showing me a strange, distorted scene:
Tendrils of darkness part before me to show a bony wrist with bits of decaying flesh still stuck to it, and, behind the shadows, a red-faced Percy as he swings his sword down.
My vision blurs as Dub wrenches me up to meet Percy’s blow. The knight’s blade comes down on me with the force of a train, shattering upon impact, then I see Dub’s other hand shoot forward, through Percy’s elemental shield before sinking into his chest.
The knight’s face turns to one of shock then pain.
; “Nooooooooo!”
My cry sounds distant, even to my ears, and though I can feel hot tears streaming down my face my vision remains clear.
Percy’s hands, scrabbling at first around Dub’s arm, fall limp at his side as the venom creeps up his body, covering his neck and face. Then his eyes roll back into his head before turning inky black, dark tears slowly trickling down his sunken cheeks.
Dub finally pulls his hand back out, his pale fingers wrapped around a black lump, and Percy’s body clatters to the ground like a discarded toy.
I feel myself heave as I realize the mass in Dub’s skeletal hand is Percy’s heart, filled with the Shade’s poison. Then, like a frothing river, anger surges forth, funneling all my hatred for the one who keeps taking those I love away from me.
A lightning bolt strikes the earth, followed by the deafening clap of thunder, and I find myself back in my own body, staring in the distance at the smoldering sword still wedged inside the altar, two figures lying at its base.
“Percy!” I scream, scrabbling at Arthur’s chest to get him off me.
Fury spurring me on, I run towards the Shade. I see Dub’s form struggle to get back up, the shadows that always surround him gone. Without them, he looks like a walking cadaver, another of those filthy draugar Mordred likes to conjure back from Hell.
I dive fists-first into him, energy dancing around my knuckles in writhing snakes of flame.
We land into a rolling mass of limbs, mud squishing beneath us, and I manage to shoot a couple of blasts of fire at Dub before his cold hands find their way back around my neck, squeezing unmercifully. I kick out from under him, my feet trying to find purchase on the slippery ground.
Two tiny creatures suddenly whizz by, screeching like fat insects. They dart around Dub’s face, occasionally swooping in to bite off chunks of his face. But Dub doesn’t seem to mind—granted, considering how much of his body’s already decomposed, a few more missing pieces don’t make much of a difference.
“You’ll…pay…for…father…,” I utter around a thickening tongue.
Dub’s hands shake with silent laughter and he bends closer to me. His putrid mouth cracks open. “I couldn’t have done it alone,” he breathes into my ear. “If it weren’t for the Pendragon…”
I exhale sharply, my lungs no longer willing to work, and it has nothing to do with Dub slowly squeezing the life out of me. Did I hear him correctly? Did he mention Arthur’s family name?
As my vision darkens, I remember my father’s report, its last pages torn out. Arthur did say that Irene and Luther conspired to get rid of my father, didn’t he? Is that the secret those missing sheets of paper hid?
In the confused fog that is my mind, I manage to recognize Arthur’s face behind that of Dub’s before his sword thrusts through the Shade’s back and out the other side, its point stopping just inches from my own body.
Dub rears up with a roar, letting go of me, and throws Arthur off. The Shade then looks down at the weapon, still sticking out of its bony chest like a twenty-fifth rib. Then, slowly, it pushes the sword back out. As the blade clatters to the ground, the poisonous vapors close Dub’s wound again, as if it never were.
Then, very slowly, Dub turns around to face Arthur. I bite back a shout as Arthur gets into a low crouch, twin daggers ready in his hands. David against Goliath. Except this time, the rocks have no effect on the monster…. A monster I can’t let Arthur face alone.
I force myself to get back up, using the altar for support, the stone’s fine-grained surface sharp against the palms of my hands.
“Stand back, Morgan,” Arthur says.
“No,” I say, breathing heavily. “I won’t…let him take…anyone else…from me.”
I try not to look at Percy’s inert body lying but a few feet away—he who was always so full of life, bouncing all over the place like a pinball, and always had a kind word to say to me.
I swallow around the lump forming in my throat as Dub’s shoulders shake in silent laughter, black fog gathering about the hem of his cowl, curling around his skinny body like a boa constrictor squeezing its prey.
Before the poisonous mists can cover him up entirely, however, Dub attacks, sending jets of darkness at Arthur.
Arthur throws an elemental shield up and the fumes dissipate upon impact. But the sylph shield flickers uncertainly for a moment, and when Dub attacks again, the green glow disintegrates upon contact.
Arthur dives to the side, and the jet of blackness blasts one of the remaining boulders to pieces instead.
Two pinpricks of light then blaze across my vision, urging me to move.
“Help him,” I wheeze.
The two pixies freeze in the air an inch before my nose, their wings frantically beating the air. One of them looks to have sustained injuries, its whole right side blackened, and it seems to be straining to stay airborne.
“Please,” I whisper.
The healthy pixie stands at attention before whizzing through the air towards Arthur. A split second later, the second one follows, though at a more sluggish pace.
I hear a sigh behind me and, turning around, find Blanchefleur lying face down on the muddy ground, her body covered in black bruises, unmoving.
No. Not her too! Fear twisting my guts, I struggle over to the fallen Fey’s side and, with a great heave, manage to roll her over onto her back.
“Blanchefleur,” I wheeze, feebly slapping her cheek.
She moans in response. Her eyelids flicker but stay closed.
“Blanchefleur, I need you,” I say, more forcefully. “Percy’s gone and I can’t fight….” My breath catches in my throat as my mind replays Percy’s death, every detail excruciatingly clear. Tears spring forth, blurring my vision. “I can’t let that happen again,” I rasp. “Not to Arthur.”
But Blanchefleur remains unresponsive. I hunch over her, my hands on her shoulders, my body raked by sobs.
“Please,” I say, my tears leaking unchecked upon Blanchefleur’s face. “Please…”
There’s a shout and I turn swiftly around to find Dub’s managed to corner a now weaponless Arthur by the altar. The two pixies are darting in and out of its shadows, but the Shade blasts them away with another of his bolts of putrid energy.
For a brief moment, the mists part enough for me to see the triumphant smile stretching Dub’s putrefying lips, before they hide his features from sight again.
“Arthur!” I yell, as Dub shoots his poison across the altar.
Arthur conjures another shield of air before him, but the sylph can’t withstand the assault and Dub’s blast of power breaks through.
I see a flash of red as the remaining pixie tries to intercept Dub’s attack, but the tiny creature’s light winks out of existence, and the deadly fog catches Arthur in the chest, piercing through him in multiple spots like the tentacles of a kraken.
My heart stops for a split second and a long, ear-splitting cry arises in the dawn air, before I realize I’m the one screaming. My body reacts of its own accord, as if someone’s turned off a switch inside my head, and I grab Blanchefleur’s sword before staggering up to my feet, the crystal blade flaring at my touch.
I see the tendrils of smoke lift Arthur in the air, bringing him closer to Dub as the Dark Sidhe ambles its way over to the altar. Slowly, the spikes of shadow lower Arthur onto the block of stone and the Shade’s hand reaches up to grasp Arthur by the neck, as he did with me.
Hatred spurring me on, I race across the clearing as fast as my legs will carry me, Dub’s shadow growing larger and larger until he fills my vision. I swing Blanchefleur’s sword up, cutting through the black mists like through a thick veil, and let out a shout of surprise as the crystal blade bounces off him.
My feet slip from underneath me, Blanchefleur’s sword falling from my limp grasp, and I hit the ground hard.
“Arthur?” I call out, scrambling over to the altar where I can see him hovering, the dark tendrils of smoke still stuck inside his body, sucking him dry.
I scream as a poisonous wave hits me, spearing me to the altar next to Arthur. My eyelids start to close, my vision of Arthur’s prostrated body growing dim as the last of my energy gets burned away.
Suddenly, a strange warmth flows into my body and I hear the distinct ring of iron on stone as Arthur pulls the broadsword from the altar.
“No,” I hear the Shade utter.
But Arthur swings his arm around, cutting through the ropes of poisonous mists keeping us down. The sword explodes in a burst of light, dissipating Dub’s shadows, then its sharp edge swings back around to strike Dub in the side, cutting through him like a scythe. Dub’s mouth opens and closes, his rotten teeth clacking together in surprise, before his body falls apart on the ground.
“Is he…dead?” Arthur asks weakly.
“I-I think so,” I say, too afraid to approach the Shade’s remains.
“Good,” Arthur says, collapsing off the altar and onto the ground.
“Arthur!” I exclaim, dropping to his side.
Arthur lifts his hand towards me and I grab hold of it.
“Told you…you needed…keeping an eye on…,” Arthur murmurs, grimacing in pain.
His body convulses, and I see the black stains left on his chest by Dub’s mists expand outward like fire through dry brush.
“Dub’s not going to get you,” I say, putting my hands over his blackening torso. “I’m not going to let him win!”
The corners of Arthur’s lips lift. “You’re OK,” he says, frowning in pain, “that’s all that matters.”
“Like hell it does!” I exclaim. “You’re not leaving me here all alone, especially not when you’ve still got things to explain.”
But despite my best efforts, the poison keeps spreading, extending now past Arthur’s shoulder and up to his neck.
“Seems like déjà-vu,” Arthur says, his chuckling turning into a wheezing cough.
“Meaning I have to save your ass again,” I retort.
Yet even as I utter those words, I know I can’t heal him. Whatever power the Sangraal awoke in me is gone, stolen away by the Shade. I press my hands harder upon Arthur’s chest, angry at him for butting in once again when he should be safe and sound down in Lake High, angry at Dub for killing off everyone I cared for, angry at myself for not being able to work my powers properly so I can save everyone….
Rise of the Fey Page 40