As the aos sí slammed into the wall, Aesa darted forward and buried her axe in the aos sí’s knee, the sound of cracking bone bringing bile to Ell’s mouth. The aos sí screeched and swung her blade, driving Aesa back. Blood streamed from around her knee, and she limped heavily. “Little fini,” she said, low and dangerous. “What’s become of you?”
Aesa tried for another strike, but the aos sí wouldn’t let her close. Ell picked up a piece of broken mushroom and threw it.
It smacked harmlessly against the aos sí’s chest, but she glanced Ell’s way long enough for Aesa to dash close. The aos sí tried to move out of the way, but she slipped, putting weight on her injured knee. With a cry, she toppled sideways, and Ell heard a horrid, grinding sound as something in her knee tore. She howled like the wind before a storm. Aesa ran to Ell, grabbed her arm, and led her away.
But as they ran, the aos sí’s form shimmered again, and she became the krissi monster, with five good legs to rely on.
*
Aesa cursed. She should have known it wouldn’t be so easy. The six-legged lizard moved slower than it had, but it would still catch them soon enough. She took her bow from her shoulder and shot, forcing the thing to dodge into the shadows.
It reared at them from the side, and Aesa shot again, driving it back. It seemed slower, tired maybe, or more wounded than she thought. It slowed even more, knocking over a mushroom and casting its head about as if dazed.
Aesa didn’t know what ailed it, but she wasn’t going to wait around to find out. She looked for a door, a tunnel, anything. Ell dragged on her arm, leading them toward the pond. She stood over the map and pointed at the Mists of Murin.
“What?” Aesa asked. “Will this take us back to the other cavern? Can it get us outside?” She tried to think of any fini words, but nothing would come to her.
“Aesa.” Ell pointed to the barrier. “No you.” She waved as if shooing something outside, into the sea. “All you, go. All you, run.”
“All me?” Aesa pointed to herself, but Ell shook her head and waved above them, making a large circle. “Not me. All me. All my people?”
Ell waved outside the barrier again, and Aesa thought she understood. Ell wanted her people to leave the island, and why not? If Runa and Maeve had succeeded in killing the fae, and the crews had killed the shaptis, the fini could be free on their own. “Yes.” She felt tears welling and wished them away. Even if she had to leave Ell behind, the fini would be free. “But, Ell, how do I…” She didn’t know how to leave this cavern, but she could keep watch. “What now?”
Ell reached for the knife at Aesa’s belt, and Aesa stilled, wondering just how this magic was supposed to work. When Ell slit her own wrist, Aesa cried out, reaching to staunch the bleeding, but Ell pulled away and held her hand over the water. “Aesa, yes.”
Why did it always come down to blood?
Red stains spread through the water, and the flickering barrier stilled slightly, but at the rate it settled, Ell would be dead long before it was strong enough to keep Gilka out. Maybe it needed more than one life to drain.
Aesa locked eyes with Ell and felt the lives of all fini resting on their shoulders. “I wish…” She swallowed. “I wish we had more time.”
Ell laid a finger against her lips. “Aesa, Ell. You, I.”
Aesa nodded, took back the knife and sliced her wrist as Ell had. Ell gasped, but Aesa took her hand, and they knelt together, blood dripping into the image over the Mists of Murin. Her wrist burned as if she’d plunged it into a fire, and she felt her life force ebbing away. Ell spoke, and Aesa could feel her willing the barrier to keep everyone out, so the fini could become the people they were meant to.
Aesa spoke the same words, and the island began to listen.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Laret heard the guard stirring, muttering to himself. She’d seen the marks of Maeve’s claws upon his chest, but he was obviously tough. Well, not for long.
As Maeve and Laret focused their magic, he cried out, bending double. Their magic drained everything houri from the island, turning the nature of the place against it. If the guards had more human in them, they would survive, and if not…
The guard groaned again, but she bet some of them were shrieking, just as any living houri would. No, she didn’t have to bet; she could almost hear them crying out as their life force drained. She nearly pitied them, until she remembered the tales of how they’d tortured and slaughtered humans and the malevolence she’d felt in their gaze.
“There’s something else,” Maeve whispered.
Laret focused on where her spirit pointed, not above them but below, at two people and a jolt of blood magic, but the people weren’t performing it. The place was.
“It’s Aesa and Ell,” Maeve said.
Laret took her word for it, unable to distinguish one person’s spirit from another, but she sensed they were working some kind of houri object, something that would strengthen the barrier slowly but would also cost them their lives.
Laret pricked her finger and touched it to the sphere’s side, adding her blood to theirs, and this time, she welcomed the rush of power, the need to drain someone tempered by Maeve’s spirit. With three of them, the houri artifact might not drain them all.
“Yes,” Maeve said, and then her blood was there, too, mingling with Laret’s and flowing into the sphere.
*
It wasn’t as bad as Ell suspected. Rather like going to sleep. And her hand was in Aesa’s, warm. They would fall like this, joined for all eternity. Chezzo had wandered back from where she’d left him, and his comforting presence rested against her.
“I’m sorry, Chezzo,” she whispered, knowing there’d be no way out for him. His wet tongue grazed her ear as if to say he’d made his choice and didn’t regret it.
When she felt someone else’s presence, Ell started, thinking the aos sí might have reached them at last, but it didn’t seem physical, more as if a mind touched hers. Two minds. She cracked an eye open. Past Aesa, a trickle of blood flowed through the air from the middle of the arch. It mingled with theirs in the pond, turning the water darker.
Aesa’s eyes opened, and she muttered a question. Ell had asked the barrier to strengthen for all time, never to fail again, and she felt it obeying, gaining potency from the blood. It had to wait, though, she told it, to give Aesa’s people time to flee.
As she felt the island listen, her wrist tingled, and she stared in wonder as the skin knitted closed, Aesa’s doing the same. Aesa stared at the trickle of blood and said something else, muttering as she stood, taking Ell with her.
Past the arch, the aos sí slumped on the ground in her two-legged form. Ell thought she might have been overcome by her injuries, but her golden skin had turned waxy and shrunken. Her eyes had fallen away, the skin puckering around empty holes, and her limbs were almost skeletal, covered in a thin, brittle layer of skin. She looked as if she’d been dead a long time.
Ell tugged Aesa toward the arch, where two spectral hands hovered just above the blood. They exchanged a glance before Ell gripped Chezzo’s ruff and reached for one hand while Aesa grasped the other.
*
Maeve caught Ell, feet slipping under the impact. She wouldn’t have yanked so hard, but she’d felt more weight than expected, and now Ell and the dog fell on top of her. Part of her had hoped to catch Aesa, but when Ell gazed at her with grateful eyes like warm brown honey, Maeve’s breath caught. By the dead gods, she was beautiful!
They seemed tired, too much blood lost. Aesa had to be feeling sick to be able to relax in Laret’s arms. Maeve spread her spirit over all of them, but it came sluggishly, tired. She’d healed so many today.
Ell gasped. “Niall!” She pointed to the guard.
He looked wholly human, a bit paler than normal, and his hair was still white above his youthful face, but his features were that of any other person. He felt over his face, said something, and Ell spoke to him and the rest of the fini, urging them to th
eir feet.
“We have to hurry,” Aesa said as she stood. “The barrier is strengthening. If we’re going to leave, we have to do it now.”
They stumbled from the tunnel, and Maeve led them along the path she and Aesa had taken, up through a tunnel to the floor above, the fae chamber. The floor was still a sea of bodies, guards, humans, and guards who had become human. Through it all wandered the warriors, torches held aloft, sorting through the dead.
Ell screamed, and Maeve spun to see her and another fini caught in Gilka’s grip. The dog began barking, and tired as she looked, Aesa drew an axe from her belt.
“So, this is what we’ve all fought for,” Gilka said. “What some of us have died for.” She looked from one fini to the other.
“Gilka.” Aesa licked her lips. “The Mists of Murin are strengthening, and we must leave, or we’ll be trapped.”
Maeve grasped the neck of her cloak, ready to slide it away and let the bear spirit out. But Runa lingered at Gilka’s side, a bloody gash across her forehead. Others of Gilka’s crew stood around them, looking between Gilka and Aesa. Why did it come to this, after everything?
“Please,” Maeve said. “We don’t have to fight.”
Gilka smirked. “Don’t we?”
“No,” Aesa cried, “I challenge you to single combat!”
Everyone gasped, and Maeve thought for a moment that they were back at the Thraindahl. “Aesa.”
“I accept.” Gilka shoved Ell and the fini to the side.
“Go, Maeve,” Aesa said. “Take Laret and go.”
“But…” By the set of Aesa’s shoulders, Maeve wondered if she’d ever intended to leave Fernagher, or if she’d been caught here since she and Ell had first laid eyes on each other. Maeve curled her hands into fists, fighting her anger. They’d already said something like good-bye, but Maeve had hoped for a proper farewell, when Aesa wasn’t about to fight her thrain for another woman.
Aesa dropped her axe and swung her arms, stretching just as she’d done before that long ago challenge. “I’m sorry, Maeve, but this has to be.”
“Oh, does it? Because it seems the height of foolishness to me. We should be running, leaving this place behind. You shouldn’t be standing here arguing with your thrain over a…”
“A what?”
“The fini are free, so why are you still here? No, no. It’s too stupid to be fighting when these are the last moments we’ll ever see each other.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, Aesa.”
“I know, Maeve.”
“Take her and come with us.”
“I can’t. You know that. I have to help them. It’s…”
“Your path.” Maeve threw her arms around Aesa’s neck. “I love you.” She looked past her to where Gilka waited, where the crews were filing out of the cavern. “Please, live. Find a way.” Maeve kissed her cheek, hoping she would survive, wanting her to. “Be happy, take care of yourself, and don’t let these people consume you until you become sick—”
Aesa kissed her on the lips. “I love you, too. Well done with your wyrd.” And her smile was so soft and sad and sweet that Maeve kissed her again. She pressed something into Maeve’s hand, a short bit of crystal about as thick as her little finger. “I told you when I left that I’d bring you something.”
Maeve sobbed a laugh. “Thank you.” Before she could begin weeping in earnest, she caught Laret’s hand. She glared hard at Gilka and saw Aesa’s death in those powerful shoulders. The idea of killing someone as the bear had sickened her before, but Maeve told herself that if Gilka came to the ships with a bloody hammer, Maeve would tear her apart.
Aesa’s crew traded glances between Aesa and Gilka, some disbelieving, but most looked as if they understood. Maybe they’d been waiting for a fight all along, a contest they knew that would settle things. Some lifted their hands in farewell. Others grumbled. Runa glared at Maeve and Laret as they caught up with her, opening her mouth as if to say something nasty, but the warrior swordswoman, Aesa’s friend, touched her arm.
“She saved my life, Runa. She saved many of our lives, and she’s sailing home with us.”
Runa’s mouth shut with a snap. As they ventured up out of the darkness, Maeve caught many thankful glances, Einar’s included, and knew she’d be welcome on many ships that day.
*
Gilka’s hammer stayed in its ring. Aesa tensed, hoping that meant she didn’t want to fight. She could hardly believe she’d challenged Gilka, but just like with Einar, the words had come popping out of her mouth. She’d seen Ell in Gilka’s grip, knew that Gilka would kill them all if backed into a corner, so Aesa had said the first thing on her mind, her tired mind that was more than ready to collapse and sleep for weeks.
Gilka smiled, and Aesa knew pain was in her future. She jammed a torch into a crack in the floor. “So, bear cub…”
“Bare hands?”
“Nice that you remembered to set terms. To the death?”
Aesa’s stomach shrank, and she hoped Gilka couldn’t see her swallow. “Is there any other way?”
Gilka shrugged. She hadn’t lost that smile, and Aesa wondered where her anger had gone, what she was planning. They began to circle each other. Of all the times Aesa had thought she might die on this journey, she hadn’t pictured this, but she’d never felt so close to death. She couldn’t defeat Gilka, with weapons or bare-handed, even if Gilka had an arm and a leg tied behind her.
Gilka charged, and Aesa tried not to yelp as she danced away. Run, her body begged her, but Gilka would catch her; Gilka would always catch her. Ell cried out, probably wondering what was happening, but Aesa didn’t have time to look.
A fist came for her head, and she ducked. She told herself to watch for the other, but she’d forgotten how fast Gilka was, and that hand snaked in from the side, catching her belt. The first fist came for her face again, and she thought, I’m back at the Thraindahl. I never left.
She opened her mouth for that desperate bite.
“Not this time!” Gilka’s fingers splayed over her face and shoved hard, sending Aesa backward.
Aesa tried to keep her feet, but Gilka jerked at her belt, holding her upright and dangling. Her fist came crashing back in, growing ever larger until it slammed into Aesa’s face.
Stars, the world was full of stars with black edges. Sounds slowed, faded, the world tilting crazily. Was her mind broken? No, someone was screaming, and she was dangling, stumbling. Slow, syrupy sounds rushed back, a babble of voices.
Gilka had Aesa’s neck, marching her toward the staircase. She grabbed the torch with her free hand. “We have a ship to catch.”
Aesa struggled, trying to get her limbs working. She slapped, trying to twist Gilka’s thumbs, but Gilka forced her up the stairs. “Walk or be carried,” Gilka said.
“Let me go!” It came out as a slur from her bloody mouth, but the words gained speed as she said them over and over.
“Give it up, cub,” Gilka said in her ear, her grip like stone. “You don’t have to be awake for this journey.” Someone else shouted, and Aesa heard a dull smacking sound. Gilka whipped her around to meet Ell’s frightened gaze. Ell’s fists were up, and Aesa imagined she’d been smacking Gilka’s armor with little effect.
“Well, at least she cares as much for you as you do for her.” Gilka pushed Aesa toward the side of the staircase, holding her belt, dangling her over the drop, her feet barely on the steps. “A bit too pretty for my taste, but if it will quiet your chatter… Hold this.” She pressed the torch into Aesa’s flailing grasp.
Ell yelped, and Aesa tore her gaze from the drop, craning to see Gilka throw Ell over one shoulder. “Now that I’ve got you something pretty to play with, maybe you’ll behave?”
Aesa swore and spit, trying to twist around, to use the torch as a weapon. When Gilka let go of her belt, she screamed, thinking to plummet to her death, but Gilka’s grip settled around her neck again, quick as lightning.
“Don’t make me cut off your air, bear cub. Kee
p that torch in front of you.”
“Let her go,” Aesa wheezed. “Let her down.”
Chezzo barked, and Aesa was whirled to face him. He darted forward, the shapti beside him. Gilka used Aesa as a swinging ram, knocking the breath from all of them, and Aesa blinked away more spots as Chezzo and the shapti bounced down the stairs. They were lucky none of them had caught fire.
“Right,” Gilka said. “Everyone settled? Good.” She climbed, hauling them both. Ell called something down the stairs, and neither the shapti nor Chezzo followed.
“Gilka,” Aesa said, “why are you doing this?” She led them through a cavern, and Aesa saw daylight ahead, a much shorter path than the one Aesa had taken with Ell.
“Because you’re too young to throw your life away on behalf of this bizarre place.” She chuckled and sighed. “I suppose I have to thank you. Without your interference, I might never have gotten to test myself against a fae, but I’m not going to let you stay here.”
“That’s my choice.”
“I’m still your thrain; nothing can break that bond.”
They marched upward, through a cave, and Aesa saw one of the calming pools, the water still that bright, sparkling blue. “Toss the torch,” Gilka said, shaking Aesa until she complied. Gilka marched them into a patch of forest, and Aesa tried to find purchase on firmer ground, but Gilka’s grip wouldn’t be denied.
“You’d have me be like the sheep, then?” Aesa said. Gilka’s fingers tightened on her neck, making her vision hazy for a moment. “I don’t get to think for myself?”
“Youngsters often make the wrong decisions.”
“The fini need someone to help them!”
“It’s not going to be you.”
“I hoped it would be you!” Aesa yelled.
They broke from the forest onto a plain, and the ocean gleamed in the distance, so much closer than Aesa had thought they’d come. She could just see the black shapes of the ships resting at sea. Gilka shoved her hard, and Aesa landed in the dirt, coughing and rubbing her throat. She wiped the blood from her chin.
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