“She’s got her reasons,” Nibs says. I get a brief glimpse of him as he jumps up, clearing the snow before disappearing back into it, a foot closer to me, then I hear him muffle out another string of curses.
“Well I’ve got my reasons to stay away from her,” I say, licking my parched lips as I eye our surroundings.
“And I say my priorities take precedence,” Nibs says.
He hops up once more, his outline detaching itself against the frozen lake, then lands on top of me, making me lose my footing, and I fall back down with a sharp gasp.
“So you see, I can’t mess this up, or she’ll skin me alive,” Nibs finishes with a self-satisfied smirk.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I sputter, pushing him off me angrily.
Nibs gets quickly back up and growls at me. A louder growl answers his and we both freeze in fear as a large shape throws itself at the clurichaun.
The two of them roll out of sight, tumbling back down the hill toward the shore, then I hear a loud squeak.
“Nibs?” I call out, crawling after them as fast as I can.
I find the clurichaun trapped under a cloaked figure, a long, pale arm hanging above him, an obsidian knife gleaming dangerously close to his throat. My blood runs cold as I remember another night on this island, another person about to fall victim to that knife….
“Stop!” I cry.
The banshee stills at the sound of my voice. Slowly, her cowl turns to face me. I repress a shiver as her sightless gaze searches me.
“Don’t hurt him,” I say, regretting my decision to interfere. What if she attacks me now?
But the banshee rushes to get off Nibs like she’s just been burned, drops to a crouch beside me, hunched over, and lets out a questioning yip.
“Listen to that old bitch,” Nibs says, dusting the snow off his red jacket. “Lost her last master and now she’s trying to get adopted again.”
“Shut up,” I snap at him.
But his words make me wonder…
“You’re the one who saved me from Dub back down there, aren’t you?” I ask uncertainly, remembering the hair-raising howls before the Shade released me, somewhat similar to when… “And you did it again before, when the school was attacked, didn’t you?”
The banshee nods, lowering herself closer to the ground. “Yessssss,” she hisses, her voice hoarse as if she hasn’t used it in years. “Missssstresssss wassssss dyinnnnnng.”
I breathe in sharply, the cold air tickling my throat and making me cough. I look up at the cloudless sky, the last few stars twinkling disinterestedly up in the heavens. Is this some kind of strange present that Dean’s left me?
“Thank you,” I say, looking back down at the cowled figure.
The banshee rocks back and forth on her heels. “Missstresss should leaaave nooow,” she whispers.
“Wish I could,” I say.
“She may be annoying,” Nibs says, “but the bitch is right. You need to get out of here. I need to get out of here. We all need to get out of here. Then we’ll all remain in one piece. A very comforting prospect, don’t you think?”
He draws closer to us, and the banshee turns on him with a growl, scaring Nibs back three paces.
I smirk at him—it’s nice to finally have someone who has my back, no matter what I decide to do.
I drop to my knees, clutching at my breast, as a sudden pain flares in my chest.
“Missstressss?” the banshee asks, looking confused.
“Help me up,” I gasp as the burning ache recedes a little.
The creature’s surprisingly narrow shoulders wedge themselves under my arm and she props me up. Nibs watches us, a mixed look of scorn and concern warring on his scarred face.
“To the circle,” I gasp as another agonizing wave hits me.
One slow step at a time, the banshee helps me through the snowy grounds, up the hill toward the standing stones that once stood watch over Carman. We’ve barely made it past a knob of trees when something cold seems to wrap itself around my heart and squeezes.
I yell as the world around me tilts.
◆◆◆
Dub’s standing right in front of me, fumes of poisonous gas escaping from his shadow. Although the tent is gone, partly melted metallic poles sticking from the ground the only sign it once stood over me, I immediately recognize the place. What did he do to the scientists?
I silently gasp.
Behind Dub’s moving shadow, where the entrance to the tent once stood, are the remains of a hazmat suit, its bright yellow material scattered over the ground as if torn apart by wild beasts.
My gaze roves about as panic sets in, and I note the partial line of boulders sticking crookedly from the ground around us. I was right, Dub is on Island Park!
A skeletal hand appears from the Shade’s folds, and I cringe inwardly, unable to move away from the long, bony fingers as they close around me. My mind goes blank in agony, as if Dub’s trying to crush my skull and mash my brain up.
Somewhere in the distance, someone screams.
Then something wells up inside me, searing hot, and it wipes everything out—pain and fear alike.
◆◆◆
Panting, I open my eyes to find the banshee bustling about my fallen body, the two pixies whizzing around her hooded face. My face feels numb, but I force myself to speak.
“Up,” I croak, my throat raw. I hold my shaky arms up. “Hurry.”
The banshee wrings her hands together as if unsure whether to follow my orders any longer, but she finally helps me back to my feet, unable to disobey. Even when Dean tried to kill her the banshee had remained loyal, I reflect, as she helps me stay up.
I bite on my lip as the ground starts to rise, making each step more painful, and tell myself each one’s bringing me closer to Dub. A few more feet and I’ll finally be able to wipe his existence from the face of the earth, or die trying.
I slip but the banshee’s strong arms keep me up and I can finally see the remains of the stone circle, the space inside it charred black as if it’s been the scene of a recent explosion.
And, rising in its center, untouched by the blast, is the altar, vines growing out of it in thick ropes.
And before it, a pool of darkness.
Dub.
My father’s killer.
Chapter 34
The shadows pool around Dub, drawn to him like iron to a magnet. But they can’t hide what’s happened to him.
“He’s hurt,” I hear myself say.
“Only disssoriented, misssstresssss,” the banshee says, and I can feel her shivering next to me.
Guess it’s time to strike while the iron’s hot, or at least while Dub’s somewhat down. Without a word, the banshee knows what I want and leads me forward, into the circle of standing stones. The ground sloshes as we walk, sucking at my frozen feet as if trying to prevent me from getting any closer.
Now.
I raise my hands towards Carman’s son. The little energy I have left bubbles up in response, then a blinding flash explodes out towards him.
The banshee winces as the bolt of lightning sizzles in the air, shooting straight for Dub. But at the last moment, I see the shadows around Dub shift, and the bolt deviates from him to land with a crack somewhere far behind.
A soft cackle makes my hairs stand on end.
“Puny,” a voice grates out.
Great, I’ve only managed to piss Dub off and I can’t even stand on my own two feet without help.
I barely have a chance to see the Shade move before the banshee shoves me aside. The air whistles as a pale hand darts close to where my head was a second ago, and I fall rolling to the ground, then jerk to a stop as Dub’s heavy foot steps onto the hem of my dress.
The banshee howls as she throws herself at Dub, but the Shade swats her off him like she’s nothing more than a ragdoll, and I hear the distinct crunch of bone hitting stone behind me.
Fear gives me a last surge of strength. Every limb tingles as li
ght gathers in a widening pool over my chest, casting away the constant shadows masking Dub.
I gasp, noting how much the Shade’s changed since last I fought it. For deep inside the cowl, Dub’s hideous face stares back at me, frozen in a partial state of decomposition. His lips stretch further apart in a low hiss, his jaw showing through his shorn cheeks, air blowing furiously out of the gaping wound left by his missing nose.
I scream, and the large orb of fire hurls straight into Dub’s chest.
I feel his foot lift from my dress and I stagger back onto my feet. I stumble about blindly, my migraine threatening to pound its way out of my skull through my orbital cavities, when my toes slip on the muddy ground and I catch myself on a large, rectangular stone, scraping my knees on the edge of it. The altar.
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 quillon[79], 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 stra
in 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.
Morgana Trilogy Complete Series Page 79