“You think they’re alright?” I ask, swallowing with difficulty.
“They’re knights,” Keva says. “They can handle a little fire.”
I look down as another blast hits the wreckages then suddenly grab Keva’s arm.
“Look!” I breathe, pointing at the ground.
“Oh, goody,” Keva says sarcastically, slapping my hand away, “tracks.” She pauses before adding in a more serious tone, “Lots and lots of them.”
“And all going in the same direction,” I say, “away from the houses—”
“—toward the train tracks,” Keva says. “Guess we know where our missing people are.”
We look at each other for a moment before Keva nods, and we both dash into the woods that separate this tranquil neighborhood from the highway.
The ground grows muddier as we reach the train tracks, and the hairs at the back of my neck stand up. I gag as I take in a lungful of a strange, cloying smell that hangs about the area.
“Ugh,” Keva says, covering her nose with her coat sleeve. “Smells like we landed in the sewers!”
I slowly face north, where the sharp smell of rotting eggs is stronger.
“This way,” I say, dashing forward again, wondering if Daniel’s gone that way too, and hoping we don’t get to the townspeople too late.
As we make our way along the tracks and away from the roar of the fire, a soft melody rises in the air, its strange notes compelling us forward.
“You don’t think this place is haunted, do you?” I ask, slowing down as Daniel’s tale of the bloody fight comes back to me.
“Ghosts don’t exist,” Keva says.
“I dunno,” I say, darting glances about. Night is falling steadily, and the Fey fires are now too far behind to provide much light anymore, leaving us to make our way in ever-deepening shadows. “I feel like something’s watching us.”
“If there’s something funky going on,” Keva says without a grain of doubt, “that only means—”
“—trouble,” I say as we hit a crossroad.
I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. Without a second thought, I grab Keva’s arm and wrench her out of sight behind a squat warehouse before anyone can spot us. From behind our cover, we can finally see the dark outlines of hundreds of people lining in the middle of the street, heading slowly towards a faint light somewhere by the lake’s frozen shore.
“Jennifer was right,” I whisper. “That fight back there is just another diversion. The Fey are after these people.”
Keva nods emphatically next to me. “The question now is: Why?” she says as we watch the laymen sway on their feet to the rhythm of the music, some of them already in their pajamas, oblivious to the biting cold.
“It’s like they’ve all been hypnotized,” I say, blinking snow out of my eyes.
“Let’s get closer,” Keva says. “It sounds like there’s something really good going on there.”
Frowning, I turn towards her and find that she’s already halfway down the street, her head bobbing in time with the music.
“Keva!” I whisper harshly. “Get back here!”
I catch up with her towards the end of the road, grab her braid and yank her down behind a tree, our fall cushioned by the snow.
“Get off of me!” Keva yells, struggling to get free. “I have to go out there, they’re waiting for me!”
I slap my hand over her mouth, and have to clench my teeth together to stop myself from screaming when she bites into it.
“Snap out of it!” I say, slapping her face so hard her lip cuts open and starts bleeding.
Keva’s vacant eyes momentarily focus on my face and I shake her forcefully.
“W-What’s going on?” she asks, her voice shaky.
“Have you gotten your senses back?” I ask, still not letting her go.
Keva reaches towards the back of her head and winces. “My head hurts.”
“Don’t listen to the music,” I say, slapping my hands over her ears.
“Ow, do you mind?” Keva asks, trying to pry my fingers away but I shake my head.
“You’re gonna get sucked into it again,” I say. “And then you’re fodder for whatever those Fey are doing to these people.”
Keva’s eyes widen as she takes in the crowd moving beyond our hiding place towards the shore. She nods then places her own hands over her ears.
I scan the crowd, in search of the Fey, amazed that we haven’t gotten caught yet. My gaze stops on a couple of shadows at the very front. A flash of purple lights them up, and for a brief moment I think I recognize one of them.
“Go back and get some help,” I tell Keva urgently.
“What about you?” she asks.
“I’m gonna figure out what’s happening,” I say, “and see if I can’t find Daniel.” She’s about to protest, but I cut her off, “I’ve got my own superpowers now, I’ll be alright. Just hurry.”
Keva finally nods. “Don’t get yourself killed before then,” she says before sprinting back toward the train tracks, her feet kicking up snow.
I turn back towards the Fey and nearly throw up as another wave of the sweet smell of decay grips me. “I’ll try not to,” I whisper back.
Chapter 11
I force my legs to keep moving, trying not to think about what I’m about to do. Staying low to the ground, I creep down the small path between the house and the pockets of bushes that form the hedge. I sink into the snow behind a shed as another flash of purple illuminates the long field that separates me from the lake’s shore.
The line of people moves up, still swaying to the music’s soft rhythm, and the man at its head steps forward before dropping out of sight in another deep purple flash.
I stifle a gasp as I realize the flashes are coming from a Fey circle of some kind. Just beyond it, I can make out the outlines of the two Fey themselves—one hovering about the portal, the other sitting to the side, hunched over a long, curved flute.
My heart skips a beat as I watch the Fey standing beckon the next in line, an old man with a shock of white hair, to come forward. But at the edge of the circle, the old man seems to hesitate, wobbling on his feet. I hold my breath, hoping against hope that the man’s going to escape, but the Fey pushes him over and his snowy hair disappears down the hole in another flash.
I grind my teeth together as my suspicion about the identify of this operation’s leader is confirmed, the purple glow from the circle highlighting his tattooed face—he’s the one who threatened Lugh and came to fetch Carman upon her liberation!
I nervously scan the horizon, expecting the Fey witch to show up at any moment and blast me to bits. Keva was right, I should’ve stayed by the cars. There’s nothing I can do here.
But as I make to backtrack, I see a little boy come to stand at the circle’s perimeter and my blood runs cold. The child can’t be more than seven!
Anger swells within my breast, and I feel my fingertips crackle in response. I throw my hands out and twin bolts of fire shoots out, hitting the ground far off to the left in a blast that sends flurries of snow high up into the stormy sky.
Cursing at my inability to aim, I quickly push myself up and aim again when a large, furry face springs in front of me, pale spikes growing out of its skull in dangerously sharp rows. I barely have the time to turn away before the monster’s heavy paw rakes across my shoulders. I drop to the ground with a cry, but the Fey yanks me up by the leg, and I find myself hanging upside down, my ankle held firmly by a tail covered in glistening spikes.
“Put me down!” I shout.
The tail tightens its hold around my ankle and one of its barbs pushes into my flesh. I scream in pain, blood dripping down my leg, warm and slick.
I try to bat at the creature, but it swings me up into a wide arc then whips me back down onto the frozen ground.
My teeth smack together, biting my tongue, and the metallic tang of blood floods my mouth as my vision blurs with hundreds of tiny stars. I feel the tail unwrap itsel
f from my leg, and I scream and the spike rips itself free.
But my Fey side quickly takes over, dulling the pain and closing the wound up. I blink my tears away to see the monster readying itself to charge me again, and I force myself to get back up, the wound in my leg already a memory.
“You’re messing with the wrong girl,” I wheeze, trying to stop my legs from shaking. I point forward and say, “Fire!”
A few sparks come to life, quickly snuffed out by the bitter air.
I blink—that’s not how it’s supposed to work. With a hacking bark that sounds strangely like a laugh, the Fey lunges forward, spikes pointing straight at my head.
“Fire!” I yell again.
This time, I don’t even get a spark in response, and the creature lands on me, burying one of its long horns into my shoulder.
Tears spring to my eyes and I gasp as the monster’s weight slowly crushes my thorax.
“Can’t…breathe…,” I gasp, my vision tunneling.
My fingers grope about my waist, trying to reach the dagger Arthur gave me, but the blade is stuck between my back and the ground, and I can’t pull it free.
Finally, the Fey pushes itself off me, before its tail whips back down, its cluster of spikes aimed at my head.
The knife finally comes clear of my belt, and I swing my arm back in front of me, gritting my teeth against the force of the impact. I feel the double-edged blade dig past fur and into the Fey’s tender flesh with a loud hiss.
The creature rears back in pain with a deafening screech. Its beady eyes flare red as it focuses back on me, tail swinging angrily above him, when a large ball of fire slams into its side with a loud crack.
Slowly, the Fey’s large body whirls around, before another burst of flames sends it sprawling down.
“Morgan?” A pale, round face comes into focus. “You dead yet?”
“Obviously not, dummy,” Keva says, her voice so sharp it makes my ears ring.
“But look at all the blood,” Daniel says.
I blink. “I’m OK,” I say through numb lips.
I try to stand up, but my ankle gives out and Keva reaches out to steady me.
“Good thing Sir Percy got here when he did,” she says, “or you’d be minced meat by now.”
“I can’t believe you thought you could take it down on your own,” Daniel says, looking at the massive body lying a few feet away, snow already covering it in a thin mantle.
“It didn’t respond well to my threats,” I rasp as the pain in my shoulder ebbs away.
Bright colors burst into my vision and I flinch as Percy whirs past, his elemental lights throwing another dozen Fey monsters into view.
“Where are the others?” I ask as one of the creatures bellows out a roar before charging.
“Will be here shortly,” Keva says, “just as soon as they’re done at the other site.”
The ground shakes as the large Fey barrels towards Percy, its long, razor-sharp talons slicing the air before it. Though a third his size, Percy waits patiently for the creature to come to him, his twin blades held lightly at his sides. Then, just as it looks like he’s going to get skewered, Percy leaps over the Fey’s scaly head in a flash of green, twists around in mid-air, then plunges his short swords into the monster’s back.
The creature lets out a bone-rattling cry as Percy brings the swords down the length of its body, putrid smoke and black ichor gushing out of the wounds. The Fey stumbles to the side before finally crashing to the ground.
With a roar, Percy pulls his swords back out, and whips around to face the others.
“We’ve got to help!” I say.
But Keva holds me back as Daniel jumps towards the fallen creature.
“We’d only get in the way,” she says. “Percy’s gone berserk, which means that anyone that goes near him in that state will get hacked down, friend or foe.”
“Then what about him?” I ask, motioning toward Daniel.
“He’s on cleanup duty,” Keva replies.
And I see the boy pry the Fey’s body open, using his own knife to hack at the flesh and tendons holding the creature together, before he buries his arm elbow-high inside of it. My stomach heaves as Daniel finally pulls away, his body covered in the foul-smelling blood and, with a triumphant squeal, drops a stone inside a metallic pouch.
“That’s seven!” Daniel hoots, trotting back to our side, and I realize with a sickening jolt that he’s talking about oghams.
There’s another hair-raising shriek as Percy cleaves another Fey’s arm off, before he swirls around to face the remaining creatures, laughing like a maniac. The others pause in their attack. It seems they too have realized that nothing can stand in Percy’s way, but while the knight keeps the Fey busy, so too do the laymen keep dropping into that portal.
I look back towards the glowing circle, but the boy’s long gone. I choke back a sob as a housewife steps forward, her flowery apron flapping about her ample hips in the violent wind.
Enough!
I won’t let anyone else disappear without lifting a finger. I check that the others are too busy to notice me—Daniel pilfering another Fey’s cadaver, Percy fighting the monsters off, and Keva admiring him—before I dash forward.
“Morgan!” Keva yells.
Squinting against the storming snow, my feet pound the ground towards the rapidly diminishing line of civilians. I see another woman disappear down the hole, followed by a tall, balding man.
“Stop!” I yell to a woman towards the front of the line, her dress falling awkwardly over her pregnant stomach.
Although still too far, I reach out towards her, and a large ribbon of green shoots out from my extended hand, parting the heavy snowflakes on its way to the woman. The sylphid air wraps itself around her like a large cloak until her booted feet lift from the ground. But before the pregnant woman can float over to me and out of harm’s way, a long, red rope latches around her neck and yanks her back down.
I yelp, and dive to catch her.
“Out of the way!” I hear Arthur yell, as he and the cousins land around me, keeping a long-limbed creature at bay.
Only then do I realize the rope around the woman’s neck is actually the Fey’s oversized tongue. The beast’s bulging eyes dart back and forth between the three knights, its tongue squeezing harder in anticipation, and the woman lets out a strangled gasp.
The cousins spring forward, drawing the Fey’s attention upon them, before Arthur attacks as well. The creature’s tongue finally unwinds itself from around the woman’s neck, swinging to the side to deflect the oncoming blows, and I drop to the ground next to her.
The woman’s eyes focus on mine, filled with pain and fear, before rolling back into her head.
“Hold on,” I tell her, cradling her head in my lap. “You’ll be OK. I’ll get you better, you and your baby.”
I use some of the snow to clean the mud from her face, but her breathing is still coming in short gasps. Please, please, please, I silently pray, don’t let them die. Not here. Not like this.
A soft warmth blooms under my hands, spreading from my fingertips to the woman’s chest. I hold my breath as color drains from her cheeks, her thoracic cage barely lifting anymore.
“Come on!” I mutter through clenched teeth, swallowing a wave of nausea back down. “You can’t die on me!”
Arthur drops into a low crouch next to us. “You need to get out of here!” he yells, calling forth another elemental.
A tall wall of ice crystalizes around us seconds before long, bony spikes thud into it, their sharp ends poking through.
“Now, Morgan!” Arthur says as his shield shatters, letting us see two more Fey bearing down on us.
My eyes travel between the woman and Arthur’s tense face.
“She’s gone and we need to get out of here before—”
Arthur jerks sideways as another bony spike lodges itself in his side. With a grunt, he pulls the long bone out, splattering the snow with blood. I gulp, take one
last look at the woman’s face, her eyes still closed, her hands limp at her sides. There’s nothing I can do for her anymore, I realize, a lump forming in my throat. I’m too late. Again.
But as I push myself up on my feet, my hand slides down to the woman’s protruding stomach and I feel it spasm. My fingers tense as the bump grows rock hard under them.
Relief washes over me, but it is short-lived as I realize what’s happening.
“She’s going into labor,” I say, with a growing sense panic. “We need to take her to a hospital!”
Arthur’s eyes widen. “Can’t she hold off?” he asks.
“This isn’t pizza delivery, Arthur!” I yell at him. “You can’t make these things fit a set schedule!”
I see him gulp, but he helps me as I lift the woman up. We’ve barely made a few steps, however, when someone yells, “Duck!”
Arthur shoves us back down, covering us both with his injured body as a volley of fire rains down around us, leaving the ground pockmarked with muddy holes.
“We need to retreat,” Lance says, coming over to our aid. “We’ve suffered too many casualties, backup isn’t coming, and some of our oghams have stopped responding.”
“We can’t just leave all these people here!” I exclaim.
The pregnant woman’s hand suddenly tightens around mine, crushing my phalanges.
“We have to stop that music,” Lance says his deep blue eyes fixed on the Fey still playing by the shore. “But every time we bring one of them down, another pops up.”
“It’s their leader we must get,” Arthur says, pressing his gloved hand against his wounded side.
“Mordred,” I whisper without thinking, looking over to the portal.
The blue-tattooed Fey’s head snaps towards me and I barely have the time to see his eyes shine golden before Percy rams into him.
“Looks like it’s our cue,” Lance says, springing forward.
“Stay out of trouble,” Arthur tells me, his hand lingering on my shoulder.
I nod, and Arthur motions for Keva and Daniel to stand guard over me. Then, with a burst of elemental wind, he jumps straight over our heads to join Lance.
Morgana Trilogy Complete Series Page 52