by LJ Rivers
“What’s that?” I asked Morgana. “On the Crimson’s spear.”
Her back rose and fell against mine in a deep breath. “Sting of a Nadredd.”
“Huh?”
“It’s made from the actual sting from a Nadredd’s tail. There aren’t many of them left in my realm, and I have banned them from use. I only keep a few locked away in case—”
The force field fell. The Crimson who had injured Taryn had slashed through it with his Nadredd spear. The tip of it skimmed across my shoulder, sending a wave of electricity through my bones.
Crap.
I ducked as the spear came at my neck, then rolled around to escape the next blow. Behind me, Morgana gave a war cry, charging at someone I couldn’t see. In front, however, the primes were fighting off the other attackers, who were all wearing creepy copper masks. A few arrows rained onto the cobbles before a slew of Junipers flooded the tower, and the arrows stopped coming. A quick count brought me to maybe about a dozen attackers on the ground that I could see. Chills rippled on my skin as my memories conjured up another masquerade from New Year’s Eve. I really had the worst luck with people masking themselves.
I jumped, avoiding a strike at my feet, then sent a fireball at my attacker with the Nadredd spear. My power was weak, but the spear hadn’t broken my skin, and I had a little juice left. The Crimson traitor dropped his weapon, clawing at his burning face. Careful not to touch the spearhead, I picked the weapon up and swung it at the two people lunging at me. One of them, a woman, threw a force field up, which I cut through like butter, slicing past her and across the abdomen of the man by her side. He toppled over and crashed face-first into the ground with a bloodcurdling sound. The woman screamed and unsheathed a sword.
“We don’t want you, Princess,” she hissed behind her copper mask. “Surrender the queen.”
I shook my head, sidestepping slowly to block her path. “You’ll have to go through me first.” I had always wanted to say those words.
“Then we will.” She sprang forward, her sword cutting through the air.
I jumped back, trying to get the Nadredd weapon under control, but I wasn’t used to fighting with a spear. It was heavy and clunky, and I couldn’t raise it in time. Instead, the woman’s blade lacerated my skin just below my shoulder blades. I cried out and fell to my knees. The pain burned through me in waves, and tears sprang from my eyes. The blade came down again, and I tried to conjure a force field, but my arms were too heavy, and I couldn’t think clearly through the searing agony. The clang of weapons sounded overhead as another blade met my attacker’s.
I fell back and rolled to my side, my arms wrapped over my wound. Blood gushed onto the cobbles as I sucked in air, trying to stay alert.
Through the tears, I saw Brendan. He was head to head with the woman who’d attacked me, and in a few swift, precise movements, he disarmed her. A Juniper ran up to them, binding the woman’s wrists with a mydredd snake, before dragging her away from my line of sight. My gaze wandered around the area, my eyes barely able to stay open. Blood painted the ground, and severed limbs soaked in it. The copper-masked attackers lay dead or wounded in the scarlet puddles. In the centre of the carnage stood my queen. Morgana’s dress was torn and blood streaked. Her strawberry-blonde hair glimmered in red hues from the surrounding fires, making her look like a vengeful goddess. She spun on her toes, a sword in her hand, looking for more attackers. When no one came, she lowered her arm, straightening her back.
Above, a shadow moved on the watchtower. The figure stopped and raised his bow.
“No!” I croaked, barely able to make a sound. Releasing the pressure my arms had on my wound, I raised them both. My body screamed, throbbing as the blood rushed out of me. The arrow came fast, and in a last painful effort, I pulled on what strength I had left. I grabbed onto the arrow with my telekinesis, turned it around, and sent it flying back whence it came. I hit my mark. The figure tumbled over the parapet and plunged downward. The last thing I saw before my eyes fell shut was his head crushing against the ground, and his blood spraying the cobbles.
Warmth filled me, my energy levels rising in a steady beat. My eyes fluttered open, and I met Morgana’s gaze.
“There you are,” she cooed.
I coughed, gasping for air, unable to speak.
“Take it easy. You lost a lot of blood. I might be able to heal your wound and injuries, but I can’t restore your blood. That will take a while longer.” She smiled weakly. “But you’ll be fine.”
“What—?”
“I’ve done all I can do. You’ll just need a moment to rest.” She took my hand in hers and kissed the back of it. “Thank you for saving my life, Princess. Now, if you’ll pardon me, we have a live prisoner.” She stood and walked away.
We were still in the square. Junipers were carrying off the dead bodies and limbs, and a few were washing away the blood, creating crimson rivers between the cobbles. It sort of reminded me of how my blood had sunk into the symbol on the portal before it opened.
A warm hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me close. I would know his touch anywhere.
“Brendan.” I sighed.
“I’m here, Ruby Ruby.” He guided me into his lap, and I rested my head against the groove of his neck. Taryn appeared from one of the archways, with my attacker on a leash. They had moved the mydredd from her wrists to her neck. If she hadn’t just tried to kill me, I would feel sorry for her. The eagle commander had a gash on his arm and a shallow wound across his temple but seemed otherwise OK. He yanked at the chain, forcing the woman to her knees, then removed her mask. I mentally shook my head at the scene, too tired to move. Morgana, along with all the primes, faced the prisoner. No, not all of them. There was one missing.
“Soleiny,” I whispered.
Brendan kissed my cheek. “She’s gone.”
The remaining primes, along with Morgana, had apparently decided that a standard trial was out of the question, and wanted immediate answers. I couldn’t blame them. Sanctor had an arrow still protruding from his shin, and Diwella’s lip was split, a bruise blossoming around her eye. None of them had escaped completely unharmed, though they would all be able to heal once this was done.
The primes made room for Morgana to step forward. The prisoner hissed as she faced the queen. The Fae was possibly in her early forties, from what I could estimate. Her wheat-coloured locks fell past her shoulders in a tangled mess, and her face was smeared with dirt. Underneath all the grime, however, was a sweet-looking Fae with apple-cheeks and a button nose. A pair of sheer blue wings hung limp at her back, but her golden-brown eyes were fierce, and her heart-shaped lips were full and inviting. I imagined her as someone whose smile could easily light up a room, a mum who would bake cookies and invite all the kids over for a taste. That was what she looked like: a regular, everyday woman. What in all of Avalon had turned her into a bloodthirsty assassin?
“What is your name, Fae?” Morgana demanded.
“Shayna of Dienne,” the Fae replied through gritted teeth.
“Who sent you, Shayna of Dienne?” Morgana’s voice reverberated through the night.
Shayna spat at her feet, and Taryn promptly tugged at her chain again, causing her to gasp. “I asked you a question.”
“The Darniog Ad-Dalu demand retribution,” Shayna shouted. “We demand your head!”
Morgana tilted her chin. “The Darniog Ad-Dalu?”
“You sent my Melody through the portal. She was barely seventeen, her whole life ahead of her.”
“Melody—” Morgana’s voice softened. “I remember her.”
“You sent her to die in that other world,” Shayna accused, tears wetting her cheeks.
“I sent her to live. And live she did, until she aged and died as people are meant to.”
Shayna rose to her feet, her chin held high. “We will have retribution, one way or the other. If the Dalu cannot take your head, King Auberon will.” She swayed on her feet.
“I’ll ask yo
u again, who sent you? Who is your leader?”
Shayna leaned forward, her eyes defiant. She moved as close as the chain would allow, almost close enough to touch the queen. “The Darniog Ad-Dalu supports the true king. We are—”
My breath hitched when Miranar pounced on the Fae in his half-form. His hairy forearm came down in a blur, his claws extended. He ripped through her chest, pulling her heart out. I all but passed out again, my stomach twisting violently at the gruesome display. I swallowed back the bile as Shayna’s gaping chest stared me in the face. Brendan’s arms gripped me more tightly, and he shuddered against me. Taryn let go of the chain and Shayna’s limp body dropped to the ground.
“What in—?” Morgana turned to the wolf Shifter.
“Here,” Miranar growled, his head somewhere between wolf and man. He grabbed Shayna’s arm, folding his claws around her fingers, and raised it for all to see. Clutched in her hand was a curved blade, small but deadly. “She was going to attack again.”
Morgana put a hand on the Shifter’s shoulder. “Thank you, Miranar, though I wish you would have let her live.”
“She wouldn’t have talked, My Queen. She would have kept trying to kill you. It was the only way. If not for you, Your Majesty, then for Soleiny.”
Morgana crouched by Shayna’s body, stroking the hair away from her face, and carefully closing her eyes with a gentle brush of her hand. “May the Lady give you peace, Shayna of Dienne.”
Chapter Nine
“And may the Lady embrace your essence in eternity.”
Lord Pullhelli kept his head bowed for a few seconds after finishing his touching eulogy of Prime Soleiny. The elderly Sorcerer had taken residence in my heart, and that was not only because he had saved my life when he suggested I take the Enchantium trial instead of the queen sentencing me to death. In many ways, he reminded me of William, the Phoenix. Pullhelli carried aeons of knowledge and wisdom, and was more than happy to share it, primarily to assist his queen in her ruling.
“Thank you, dear friend,” Morgana said. “I know how close you were to Soleiny, as you are to all the primes, and I give you my word that I will not rest until I have brought to justice whoever is pulling the strings behind this cowardly attack.”
Pullhelli nodded. “She would have been the next Master of Primes, of that I am certain. Her mind worked on a different level than most, and her heart was truly filled with righteousness and loyalty to Avalon.”
I noticed how he didn’t say loyalty to the queen. To any other ruler, like my father, for instance, I suspected that might be taken as an insult. Morgana, however, would be the first to agree that loyalty to the people of Avalon was the most important kind.
Morgana turned to face the rest of the gathering by the shore. Brendan stood next to me, while Charlie, Jen, Erica, and Jack had joined a few of the erudites behind us. Anwinar, who almost never left my side, had taken a position a few yards to my left, as he usually did when Brendan was around. I suspected the centaur didn’t view Brendan as an equally apt guard for his princess, but he kept his thoughts on the matter to himself. I had grown accustomed to having him around and felt safer for it.
Kit had joined Nefari, and the two felines lay by the queen’s feet. The six remaining primes were present, five of them forming a semi-circle behind Pullhelli.
The lake outside Nimue’s Grove shimmered behind the queen. I had half expected Nimue herself to appear, just like she had come to collect my grandmother’s essence, but the water lay as still as a blue mirror in the night.
“We shall feast in honour of Soleiny of Pixilen tonight,” the queen said. “And we shall remember all the others who gave their lives to protect the realm.”
Brendan drew his sword from its sheath on his hip and held it over his head.
“For the fallen,” he said.
The other Junipers—Brendan had brought twenty of them to protect the queen and the primes—unsheathed their swords, too, pointing them at the dark clouds above.
“For the fallen!” they repeated, their unison call echoing against the mountainside, accompanied by a trio of howls.
The other primes had their heads bowed, and I could hear sniffling from several of them. Having faced their serious side, it warmed my heart to hear they had such strong feelings for a fallen colleague.
“Your Highness,” Prime Sanctor said quietly. “As is the tradition, a prime’s chair cannot be left unseated for more than four and twenty awrs. If it pleases the queen, we will retreat to our chambers to select Prime Soleiny’s replacement. You can expect a name within the sixth awr of the morrow.”
“I look forward to hearing your suggestion,” Morgana said.
The primes left, three Junipers on each side guarding them on their way back to the castle.
“My Queen,” said a voice behind me. Halwyn stepped forward. With everything that had been going on, I had still to get a quiet moment to talk to him. “I have a request.”
“Speak, Cropkeeper.”
“It is my son. He is kept in the Dewas mines, slaving for Satyr Bellion—well, I guess it’s for the Sorcerer king now.”
Morgana took a step towards him and put her hand on his shoulder. “I know, Halwyn, and it hurts me deeply that you have to suffer like this.”
“With respect, Highness, your hurt and my suffering are mere pinpricks compared to what my Wadyan has to live through every day. Which brings me to my request.”
“You want me to free your son.”
Halwyn lifted his chin, his bushy beard doing nothing to conceal the anguish on his face. “I cannot hide my desire to have my son freed, but I would think it is time to rescue as many enslaved as possible. As your Master of War said during our meetings, King Auberon is likely to push them even harder to aid his manufacturing of weapons.”
Morgana cupped her hand underneath her chin and regarded the Goblin for a while, then sighed heavily. “I will not give up on my hope of a peaceful solution just yet. While I appreciate this is not the response you wished for, Halwyn, I hope you can see why I have to deny your request at this time.”
Halwyn dropped to his knees. “Please, My Queen! I have given my life to serve you, and my crops yield more grain and produce than any other in your realm. Don’t let my son perish in that dark gateway to the Nethers!”
I wanted to turn and leave. It was too heartbreaking to watch the Goblin beg for his son’s life, knowing that Morgana was not about to budge.
Brendan took my arm. “No,” he whispered.
He was right. It would be a disrespectful gesture to leave now. I had given up on wiping the stream of tears that flowed down my cheeks during Pullhelli’s gripping words, but now I retrieved my handkerchief from inside my sleeve. It was soaked, but did the job, nonetheless.
“If I send troops to the mines,” Morgana continued, “King Auberon will disregard my invitation, and the peace talks will never take place. He will take it as an act of war, and rightly so, I might add, and the ripples will grow into waves of bloodshed.”
“Please, Your Highness!” Halwyn’s forehead touched the ground in front of Morgana’s feet.
“Cropkeeper Halwyn of Crochan. Rise!”
For a few silent moments, the Goblin stayed on the ground. Then, slowly, he stood, brushing the dust and dirt off his knees. Again, he lifted his chin, meeting the queen’s gaze.
“May the Lady forgive me.” He nodded at the lake behind the queen. “I understand your position. And you are right. If there is the slightest hope of sparing the Avalonians of another war, that has to be your priority.”
My jaw dropped. Although I agreed with his words, I couldn’t for the life of me fathom how he was able to utter them. He was sacrificing his son for the greater good.
“I will, as I’m sure the queen understands, not take part in your feast. Might I be allowed to return to Crochan Island?”
Tears were brimming in Morgana’s eyes, too. “Your loyalty has no boundaries, Halwyn of Crochan. The gates to my castle will alw
ays be open to you. I wish you a safe journey.”
The giant lanterns of Avalen port, enhanced by copper reflectors, cast orange cones of light several hundred yards out on the dark water. Brendan, Charlie, Jen and I watched as Halwyn’s boat passed the outermost glimmer of the lanterns and vanished into the night.
“What a strong man,” Jen said.
Erica placed her arm around Jack, hugging him to her. “He has the heart of a wolf.”
“Loyal to the core,” Brendan agreed.
We started back towards the castle, and as we stepped off the quay and onto the cobbled street, a few Junipers joined our little group, among them my centaur lifeguard, Anwinar.
The walk took about forty minutes, and although quite a few of the citizens wanted to greet me, the Junipers kept them at bay. I waved and smiled at the cheering Avalonians, but my mind’s eye was looking into the eyes of the copper-masked assassin I had faced only yesterday. The hatred had been so genuine, and although she had specifically told me the Dalu were not after me, I didn’t have the same feeling of safety in the streets of Avalen as before.
Would I ever?
If Morgana succeeded in brokering a peace agreement with my father, she would still have to face enemies within her queendom. As if the disgruntled nobles weren’t enough, these masked Darniog Ad-Dalu had added a whole new dimension to the internal struggles of Avalon. Their attack the night before had been so vicious and completely void of any regard for the innocent, that I couldn’t see how the queen could ever convince them what she had done was the right choice. To them, all their loved ones had vanished only a year and a half ago. There was no way they could ever grasp the concept of the Magicals having lived full lives on the other side of the portal. I was proof that their lives had borne fruit for centuries after their escape.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Charlie took my arm as we turned into the outer gates of the castle.
Brendan and Jen walked a few steps ahead of us, and were engaged in a discussion about swordplay, judging by Brendan’s movements. Jack and Erica excused themselves to join them, and Jack started mimicking Brendan’s moves, waving an invisible sword in his hand. The two female wolves linked their arms with one another, one golden and one inky veil of hair blowing lightly in the breeze behind them. I hadn’t thought about when I would get Charlie to myself, but figured this was as good a chance as any for a while, given that we were on our way to the queen’s dining hall.