Mortiswood: Kaelia Falling (Mortiswood Tales Book 2)

by Gina Dickerson

  Wait, what were all of these Draegarnae doing here?

  He knew, didn’t he? Why was it so difficult to think, to remember anything? He wanted to sleep, needed to. It felt as if he had not slept in years. He needed a bed, a nice soft bed.

  Hang on, bed...why did his bed seem so important?

  With the image of his bed came Lifa and the little basket at its foot. His mind sharpened.

  Rosalie.

  He was fighting for his Rosalie. To keep both her and Lifa safe. With a roar, Bran commanded the Draegarni from his mind and pulled the shadow demon out of his mouth. With all of the other demons still weaving in and out of him like eels on a riverbed, Bran threw out his hands, and sent out splintering streams of light, catching as many demons as he could. The caught shadow demons squirmed, their wails now pitiful. The remaining demons, aware of Bran’s return to full strength retreated, screaming, into the air, abandoning the trapped demons without a backwards glance.

  Bran pulled the nearest Draegarni to him and clasped a hand around its neck. The demon had no face, no features to speak of, but Bran knew it could understand him. All of the creatures from Hel’s realm could. It was his gift, or his curse depending on which way you wanted to look at it.

  His voice came out deeper than he had anticipated when he spoke to the demons. ‘Return,’ he ordered, ‘to the shores of Nastrond where you belong. If you leave willingly I will spare you. If you fight, I will destroy you all.’ He sent a surge of energy along the fingers of his light and in response the Draegarnae wailed. ‘Well,’ he demanded. ‘What will it be?’

  The demons quietened. Bran heaved an inaudible sigh of relief. It was the answer he had been hoping for. He was exhausted and having to destroy a dozen Draegarnae in one fell swoop would be a hard task. Releasing the demons, he kept hold of the one he had by the neck.

  ‘Tell your mistress,’ he hissed. ‘I will not let her take my daughter, or my lover. They belong to me. She had better stop trying or I will have to pay her a visit and kick her scaly arse into the next realm.’

  Bran could not help but tremble, watching the Draegarnae corkscrew into the sea in twists of smoke and disappear back to the shores of Nastrond where they belonged. Only when the sun began to rise, two hours later, did he return inside and fall into bed.

  * * *

  The following night Bran laid Lifa on the bed and cast the same protection over the room as before. Then, once again, he strode out into the night. Winds rose but this time there was no giant wave. Instead sea sloshed over the small island until water reached below Bran’s knees. The house, higher up on the sand dunes behind him, remained safe but the water lapped the base of the walls. Retreating up the dunes, Bran kept a wary eye out. What game was Hel playing now? The rising water was surprisingly still. It was too quiet. The moon was a nothing more than a half fingernail in the sky.

  Bran prepared for attack; casting his gaze skywards he expected another assault by Draegarnae. How many had She sent this time? Two hundred, three hundred? He clenched his fists. Right, whatever Hel thought she was sending he could handle. Last night she had underestimated him, it was a possibility she had done so again. She was also so cock-sure of herself. Bran gritted his teeth, here, in this world, he was better than Hel had ever thought he could be. Veins in his arms throbbed with a mix of adrenaline and magic; his heart thudded loudly in his chest, echoing in his ears. He unpeeled his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

  Water lapped gently against the toes of his boots. The sea had stopped rising and moved in a gentle swell, it was almost hypnotic and Bran would have thought it beautiful if it had not consumed the small island his house perched upon. A ripple in the water moved towards him and Bran tensed. The ripple evened out and the water was calm once more. Time passed slowly. Bran wasn’t wearing a watch so he could not tell how many minutes passed before another ripple moved towards him, and then several until the waters around the house were choppy. Something rose out of the sea where the normal shoreline was submerged and Bran shrank back. Water ran down a huge scaly head, the scales were so iridescent they shone brightly in the low moonbeams. Bran’s light flickered into life around his hands but he was rooted to the spot.

  The creature from the sea carried on rising, exposing more of its snakelike body. Its scales shook, sounding similar to the jangling of a million house keys. Fiery eyes blazed from within its face and a row of knitting needle thin scales protruded along its spine, sharpening to tipped silver points. A fan of gills popped up around its head as the creature opened its mouth, exposing several rows of pointed teeth, and it emitted a lengthy screech. Spittle and seawater caught in its rotten-fish breath flew at Bran.

  Bran wiped a globule of saliva from his face and blasted out a succession of violet light bolts. The creature screeched again, the sound shaking the house, and plummeted towards Bran. Bran fired upwards as the beast’s colossal head cast him into shadows. The bolts rebounded straight off the scales and he had to throw himself to one side, his own light ricocheting. The sea-serpent’s giant head passed over Bran, the underside of its scales scraping through the thin material of his clothing and drawing blood. Bran cried out and rolled in an attempt to escape from underneath the beast. The serpent wrapped around the house, its head as large as the entire building, the rest of its body still submerged in the sea. Waves crashed against the wooden house, cracking the windows of the doors leading into the bedroom.

  Bran charged at the serpent and jumped onto its head, grabbing hold of the fan of gills to steady himself. Blood seeped from his palms from the tiny razor sharp spines lining the edge of the gills. The serpent was slippery and Bran struggled to maintain a foothold while it writhed and thrashed in the water. Determinedly he held on, trying to ignore the blood running from his wounded hands and body. The blood turned pink as the serpent tried to shake him off, showering him with seawater.

  ‘You won’t have them!’ Bran cried defiantly. ‘You will have to kill me first!’

  As if the serpent had understood it rapidly shot back into the sea, dragging Bran with it. Underwater, Bran held his breath. Hell, he was half-dead, if he died it would only kill off his human side, wouldn’t it? Damn it, if he died he wouldn’t have stopped the serpent from taking his girls. With a roar, he let go of the monster and shot to the surface, erupting in a whirling pool of foam topped waves. Using his super-human strength he propelled through the water back to land. He had pulled himself from the shoreline when the gigantic creature returned and bore down upon him.

  The serpent moved so fast even Bran could not outrun it. The next thing he knew, he was inside the serpent’s mouth, fighting to hold its giant jaws open. He could count four rows of sharp teeth, both top and bottom. The stench of rotten fish was overwhelming. The creature tried to dislodge him with its gigantic rubbery tongue but Bran grabbed onto one of its back teeth and held fast with one hand while using the other to fire a stream of light down the snake’s throat. The serpent screeched; the force so strong it lifted Bran off his feet and plastered his sodden hair to his head. He turned his face to one side to protect his eyes.

  Bran fought hard and long, clinging on to the serpent’s tooth until his arms ached and his light faltered. Morning was threatening to break but the serpent was relentless. No matter how hard he tried, Bran could not destroy the creature. It was too big, too strong.

  What serpent could be as powerful?

  With that single questioning thought Bran knew exactly what the serpent was. He would never be able to defeat this beast, not alone, and not even with Lifa’s help. The serpent would consume him and the house, with Lifa and Rosalie in it. There was only one option, only one choice for them all to live. He had to give Hel what she wanted.

  ‘Jormungandr,’ he bellowed, his voice echoing inside of the serpent’s mouth, ‘Tell your sister she may have what she desires.’

  Bran released his hold and prayed he had said the right thing. If he hadn’t he would end up in Jormungandr’s stomach acid. It wouldn�
��t be a quick death. He blinked and at the same time the serpent spat him from its mouth. Bran catapulted at the house and managed to break free from the serpent’s projection so he crash landed on the soggy sand instead of the roof of the house.

  Hastily, he jumped to his feet and faced Jormungandr. The sea-serpent stared back at him unblinkingly.

  ‘I will bring the baby down tomorrow night while Lifa sleeps. Give me a day more with her.’

  In answer, Jormungandr turned around on himself and slithered into the sea, taking the water which had risen around the house with him. Bran sighed heavily. He had secured the three of them their lives but at what cost?

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Now

  Bran blinked, adjusting his gaze from the past to the present. The Italianate Sunken Garden fell back into focus. At the opposite end of the bench to him, Lifa unclenched her fingers from the palms of her hands, her nails leaving behind half-crescent indents.

  ‘You faced the world serpent alone and lived to tell the tale.’ Lifa opened and closed her mouth. ‘We could have defeated him if we had worked together. I can’t believe you drugged me. You’re such a—’

  Bran’s rigid pose collapsed and he twisted in the bench to face Lifa. ‘Don’t even start!’ he shouted. ‘Because of the choice I made we all lived...you lived!’

  ‘We could’ve killed Jormungandr, together!’ Lifa’s spittle flew out in angry droplets.

  Bran’s face was thunderous. ‘You are delusional if you think you and I could have ever destroyed that serpent! He is the spawn of a god. He would have consumed us.’

  ‘If Hel wanted Rosalie so badly she would never have risked killing her.’

  ‘She would have sacrificed us for her.’ Bran’s eyes narrowed. ‘Or at least you. She needs me to melt that blasted blade between her other brother’s jaws so he can be freed. She doesn’t need you. You are disposable to her.’

  Lifa snorted and shook her head. ‘Am I supposed to be grateful you saved my life? Don’t think I owe you anything.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of thinking such a thing.’

  ‘You’re a sarcastic bastard sometimes.’

  ‘I’m well aware of that.’

  ‘What I have never been able to wrap my head around is why Hel wanted Rosalie in the first place.’

  Bran shrugged. ‘We broke her rules and reproduced without her blessing. Why do you think she wanted her? For punishment and control. This way she always has something over me and can force me into uniting with Kaelia to melt the blade between Vanagandr’s jaws. Without Rosalie, Hel has no bargaining chip. I practically handed myself to her on a giant platter when Rosalie was born. I should never have been so foolish. I can never be free of Hel’s power over me for as long as she has our daughter.’

  ‘Huh. So you regret having Rosalie with me, do you?’

  ‘Of course not.’ Bran raked a hand through his hair, the point of his fringe flopping over and concealing his scar. ‘I love Rosalie. I loved you. That was why I had to give Rosalie to Hel, so you and she could both live.’

  ‘Loved?’ Lifa licked her lips. ‘You don’t love me anymore?’

  Bran folded his arms across his chest. ‘I will always love you for giving me our precious daughter.’

  ‘That wasn’t a proper answer. I know you love me really, deep down in the dark place of your heart. Even you love, Bran.’

  ‘Come on, Lifa, we never loved each other. Not properly. If we had we never would have had so many human lovers. We grew up together in Hel’s realm and that united us, it always will. We have that in common, we were both raised by Hel but we were both effectively orphans, even though I know my mother is still alive.’

  ‘At least Hel told you your father was human and died a long time ago.’ Lifa folded her hands in her lap. ‘I have no idea who either of my parents were. Every time I asked Hel when I was child she would slap me across the face. I learnt to not ask. Being slapped by Hel is damn painful.’

  ‘I don’t trust Hel was telling me the truth about my father.’ Bran sighed. ‘She told me she banished my mother but I think she’s lying.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I know my mother is a Valkyrja. Hel can’t have banished her, Valkyrjur are under the protection of the gods and goddesses, and I think mainly Odin and Vanadis.’

  Lifa whistled through her teeth. ‘Sheesh. A Valkyrja, really?’

  ‘Yes, I reckon so. I’ve heard her song.’ Bran tapped his head. ‘In here. Rosalie heard it too, my mother’s Valkyrja song to the fallen. It could be my mother is one of Vanadis’ death riders. It’s something else linking me even more with....’ Bran bit his lip. Saying Kaelia’s name in front of Lifa would be like he was deliberately trying to hurt her.

  Lifa didn’t notice Bran’s pause. ‘I think I’m happier off not knowing who my parents were. I just assume they were Shadow Dancers. This must be messing with your head.’

  ‘My head’s always been pretty messed up.’

  ‘I know.’ Lifa tentatively reached over and touched the top of Bran’s hand which was on the bench beside his thigh.

  Bran flipped Lifa’s hand over in his and clasped it; lifting it to his lips he kissed the back of her hand. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you as soon as I suspected Hel was coming for Rosalie. I thought I was doing the right thing.’

  Lifa nodded. ‘I thought you handed Rosalie over without a fight. Knowing what you went through makes me feel a little better. Not much, mind, just a fraction. It is of some comfort to know you tried to resist.’

  ‘You want to see her, then, our daughter?’

  ‘What kind of a stupid question is that?’

  ‘Allow me to try and remove the blasted thing from your neck so you can come with me to Hel’s realm and not risk your head exploding.’

  ‘You’re always so confident you can do the things I can’t.’

  ‘Because I can.’

  ‘Not all of the time.’

  ‘Yes,’ Bran nodded infuriatingly. ‘I can. Turn around and let me see the back of your neck.’

  ‘Huh. Whatever.’ Lifa turned her back to him and lifted her hair up. ‘Knock yourself out.’

  Bran hesitated. ‘Any ideas? What did you do to try and remove it?’

  ‘What do you think I did? I tried to cut it out.’

  ‘Obviously to no avail.’

  ‘You’re a regular detective, aren’t you?’

  ‘Do you want me to help or not?’

  ‘Don’t think this makes up for what you did.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of thinking such a thing.’ Bran touched the nodule with his left hand. It pulsated and wriggled under his fingertip, the same as it had when he’d touched it briefly before telling Lifa his side of the Rosalie story. ‘Does it always pulsate?’

  ‘No. I’ve never felt it do anything other than be a hard little ball.’ Lifa sniffed. ‘Although when I slept, I’m sure it moved. The inside of my head felt funny, tickly.’

  ‘It’s definitely moving when I touch it. Can you feel that?’

  ‘Of course I can, I’m not a bloody robot. It sort of feels like a bad period pain.’

  ‘A pain in the neck.’

  ‘That’s your weakest joke ever.’

  ‘I’m not much of a joke person.’

  ‘I know. You do have some other far more commendable qualities.’ Despite herself, Lifa laughed. A surge of white-hot pain seared down her spine and her laughter turned to cries of agony. Gasping, she managed to croak, ‘Are you deliberately trying to torture me?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Bran gritted his teeth. Sweat glistened upon his top lip, his eyes darkening with concentration.

  Lifa cried out. Bran grasped his left wrist with his right hand, steadying it. Tremors ran from Lifa, out of the nodule, and into Bran. An acrid stench of roasting flesh floated around them.

  ‘It’s burning me!’ Lifa screamed. She tried scratching the back of her neck.

  ‘Stop fidgeting.�
�

  ‘Excuse me if I’m in agony.’

  Bran, the heat from the nodule crawling up his arm and singeing the hairs, lost contact for a moment as Lifa shifted. ‘You’re not the only one it’s burning.’ He rubbed his arm; even the sleeve of his coat was hot.

  Steam rose from Lifa’s head and she screamed. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she went limp, flopping back against Bran’s chest.

  ‘Lifa?’ Bran gently shook her.

  When there wasn’t any response he lifted Lifa’s left eyelid to check for consciousness but there was none, she was out cold. Bran whipped off his long coat and folded it up to form a makeshift pillow which he shoved on the bench before laying Lifa on her front, her head tilted to one side, cheek resting on his coat. Her long hair swung over the edge of the bench, exposing her neck. No surprise she was hot, the damn nodule was glowing red. Bran blew on his hands to cool them and called up his light power. He could keep it cold so hopefully it should help cool the implant in the back of Lifa’s neck. The nodule sizzled when Bran touched it with his cool power and a cloud of steam engulfed him. He cursed but concentrated on using his energy to pull the nodule to the surface of Lifa’s skin.

  A clap of thunder sounded overhead and the skies above the Sunken Gardens darkened. Bran shivered, an icy breeze weaving around him and Lifa. Hurriedly he managed to grasp the nodule between thumb and forefinger and willed it to budge. He needed to work quickly. Although he had never encountered the ghostly column of The Three, he knew the clap of thunder, darkened clouds above only the gardens, and the icy wind meant they were coming. If they caught him trying to remove Lifa’s tracker, they’d take her back and imprison her again, or worse.

  Bran gulped, he couldn’t let that happen, she was the mother of his child. She would always hold a special place in his heart. The tracker pierced the skin on the back of Lifa’s neck and Bran wiped his forehead with his free hand. The blasted thing was still hot, even with his cooling light. A tentacle slithered from underneath the skin and tickled Bran’s hand.