“And why would you?” Jack asks snidely. “It’s not like she’d want to hang out with another traitor, would she?”
With a last punch, Myrdwinn breaks through Lugh’s defenses, sending him hurtling down on the other side of the school.
“Morgan, no!” Arthur shouts, catching my intent at the last second.
Too late. Snarling, I slam my foot on the ground and shoot after the bastard.
I swear by all that is unholy, today is the day Carman’s going to lose her third and last son.
◆◆◆
“I highly recommend you don’t intervene this time ‘round,” Urim says, poking his white face out of a dorm window as I fly up the school building.
I crest over the roof, scanning the skies for a trace of Myrdwinn, who’s managed to slip away from me before I could reach him. Ahead, the giant Apple Tree’s branches keep quivering and shaking in a way that has nothing to do with the rain and wind. Almost as if it’s laughing at me.
I slow down, giving the thick branches a wide berth.
“Ya might wanna look down.”
I startle at Thummim’s voice, berating myself for not hearing either him nor Urim follow me.
“Is this a trap?” I ask the two Dark Sidhe, narrowing my eyes at them.
Stupid question. What are they going to say? Oh, no, Morgan, we’re here because we think we should be BFFs?
Urim shrugs. “Don’t mind us,” he says. “We’re simply curious.”
Despite my better judgment, I finally look down. The courtyard is still eerily empty, and from above, even with the torrential rain, the destruction of the gardens is a lot more obvious. Nothing’s left but for that stupid Apple Tree and the make-out hedge.
“We’ve got a bet going as to how long your luck’s gonna hold,” Thummim adds, nodding emphatically. “Lugh managed a full five minutes against Dother.”
“To be fair, he’d already faced Azazel,” Urim says, sounding like he lost on another bet earlier.
I’m about to ask them to shut up, when my breath catches. Hanging within the hedge’s thorns, is a woman in a long dress of white and red. Lady Vivian.
I react without thinking, diving for her, and only stop when I’m inches from the Fey woman. I hover for an excruciatingly long moment in the air, uncertain as to what to do. Is this what Myrdwinn meant when he talked of taking care of a minor setback? But how could he do this to his acolyte, to his…lover? Unless Lugh was right, and Lady Vivian was somehow preventing him from wreaking havoc all along.
“Lady Vivian?” I call out gently, afraid to touch her in case the thorns holding her up tighten. The smallest of them could pierce her jugular.
“Lady Vivian, can you hear me?” I ask, a little louder.
Slowly, Lady Vivian’s eyes flutter open, and I bite back a gasp as pain-filled irises stare back at me, red as carnations.
“Guess it’s too late to get them to couple therapy, huh?” Thummim says with a soft snicker, as he and Urim drop to my sides.
“What is this?” I lash out at them, stomach churning.
The two Dark Sidhes give me identical shrugs. “What does it look like?” Urim asks.
With a growl of frustration, I return to Lady Vivian, eyeing the thorny hedge wearily. I may have hated her for a second—she knew Myrdwinn’s true nature yet never breathed a word of it to anyone—but she’s also the one who showed me kindness when I thought the whole world didn’t want me.
“Don’t worry,” I tell her, garnering a scornful chuckle from Urim. “I-I’ll get you out.”
I reach for the smaller thorns circling her wrists first, carefully snapping them off one by one, until the ground below is red from the sap. But when I move onto the thicker spines embedded in her side, the hedge suddenly contracts around Lady Vivian, digging deeper into her flesh and drawing a sharp gasp from her.
“Sorry,” I say, biting hard on my lip.
“It’s OK,” Lady Vivian whispers back.
Her eyes close again as the vines jerk her head back by the hair, exposing her white neck to let another thick, black thorn pierce her. Blood flows down the new puncture wound to disappear down her décolletage, draining her.
“It’s him, isn’t it?” I say, crying freely now. “But why?”
“Watch out!”
Something hits me hard, and I crash into the muddy ground. Myrdwinn’s hair-raising cackle resonates from within the Apple Tree. I push myself up, and glare up the gargantuan trunk, trying to pierce the thick foliage to find the Fey. My heart skips a beat at the sight of a blazing pentacle carved halfway up the massive trunk—golden against the tree’s bark—the very same mark that was used to seal my powers.
A door slams open. Footsteps. Someone else is coming this way. I fling my arms up defensively, accidentally bringing out the poppy flower Gale gave me.
The intruder bursts into view, only to skid to a halt at my sight. We find ourselves staring at each other for a few heartbeats before I recognize the tall boy.
“Morgan?” Lance asks, dropping his sword arm in surprise.
He’s skinnier than he used to be, and his skin has lost its sun-kissed hale in prison, giving him a tragic beauty like those of ill-fated knights in troubadour[93] songs of yore.
“Careful,” I tell him, returning my attention to the Apple Tree where Myrdwinn is hiding. “Think you’re all that for having deceived us, huh?” I call out to the old school director.
There. Movement.
“But I’m gonna make you swallow that leer of yours, and you’re gonna wish for the days when you were still locked up in the asylum!” I shout.
Another bough lists ever so slightly. I flex my fingers, the air crackling with power, then launch myself up. I duck as a low-hanging branch tries to swipe me away, swerve around a second before it can shatter my legs. I catch the tail of Myrdwinn’s coat disappearing on the other side of the tree, and alter my course to follow him.
But as I fly around the massive trunk, a pulsating mass of amber miasma hits me straight on, catching me across the chest. I see the flash of Myrdwinn’s moss-green eyes, crinkling at the sides in laughter, then I’m plummeting to the ground like a rock. I land badly, crying out in shocked pain as my ankle twists beneath me.
“Stay back!” Blanchefleur shouts, bounding forward from the opposite direction. The Fey warrior swings her crystal sword at another projectile, slicing it in two before it can hit her, then twists as another volley whistles past. Myrdwinn’s sinister laugh booms out again.
“Can you stand?” Lance asks, offering his hand to help me up.
“I’ll manage.”
“Good, ‘cause it’s about to get busy,” he says, motioning towards the Herbarium.
I glance over as Keva, Daniel, Bri, and Jack storm out of the building, an angry Arthur closing the rear.
“Anything wrong?” Keva asks me, reaching me first.
“Everything’s wrong with her,” Daniel says, looking as miserable in his drenched uniform as I feel.
“Ah, well, we’re all about to get slaughtered anyway,” Keva says with a small pat on my arm.
I throw her a questioning look, avoiding Arthur’s seething face.
“Seems the Gates are fully open again,” she says, “and we sorta, uh, ran into some of those beasts in the hallway.”
“Shields up!” Arthur barks at us.
My stomach tightens into a tight knot as demons swarm the gardens. Flashes pop brightly across the courtyard as knights call on their oghams to defend ourselves. Then chaos hits.
Bri cries out as a dog the size of a pony lunges at her.
“Laguz!” Arthur shouts, raising his hand.
A pearlescent beam shoots out of his fingers, and a tall barrier of water cleaves the earth, slicing the demon’s head off before it can touch Bri. But already more demons are pressing their snarling faces against the watery barrier.
“Kano!” someone roars from behind us, and fire blazes a trail across the old vegetable patches, leaving behin
d agonizing screams. Hadrian’s back, along with the last of the survivors he’s managed to free, and they fan out behind him, falling on the horde of demons.
“We need to get everyone out!” Hadrian shouts at Arthur and Blanchefleur.
“We need Lady Vivian!” Bri shouts back at him.
I turn away from the battle to face the make-out hedge again.
“What are you doing?” Arthur asks, rushing to my side.
Excalibur sings as he pushes a draugar away.
“Myrdwinn’s up that tree,” Lance says, guarding my other side.
Arthur throws me a worried look. “Are you insane?” he yells at me. “Even Lugh couldn’t take him, what makes you think you can?”
I swallow hard. Because I have to, I silently tell him.
I reach for my powers again, but this time, instead of flying to meet him, I punch straight out. Dark tendrils shoot out of my knuckles upon impact, boring through the tree like pins in a cushion, and I hear an angry hiss from above.
It’s now my turn to smile.
“Why did you teach us to harness Fey power?” I shout over the clash and shouts of the fighting knights and demons.
“It was a perfect way to weaken you self-righteous turds,” Myrdwinn says at last, peering at me intently from his perch.
“And to weaken the spell keeping Carman imprisoned,” Lugh adds, landing in our midst.
My heart stutters at his sight, relieved to find he’s still alive. Hearing Urim and Thummim talking about it made me fear the worst for the second time today.
“Mother should never have been put there in the first place,” Myrdwinn snarls. “I was only setting things aright.”
“By killing innocents?” Lugh asks coldly. “I thought you were better than that. Guess we all are paying for that mistake”—his golden eye flicks for a moment to the briar hedge—“Vivian most of all.”
A long root lashes out from the ground, going for Lugh’s feet, but he dodges it easily. The vine rears again, ready to strike, when a sudden clamor resounds from the other side of the courtyard.
“Watchers, Lugh?” Myrdwinn asks, no longer laughing. “And to think you professed you’d never renege your vows of holding peace. Then again, I always knew your word wasn’t worth the paper I wipe my ass with.”
I glance at the white-clad Fey as they corral the demons and draugar toward the center, their lips moving in whispered prayers. Their presence seems to boost our squad’s morale, and I hear Sir Boris redouble his cursing as he strikes another demon down.
The tide is turning at last, if only for a moment.
I reach for my powers again, when something rams into the back of my legs. I gasp in pain as my bad ankle rolls, and Arthur catches me before I drop. I glare down at the white creature trying to climb up my legs, ready to kick it off, and freeze.
“Puck?”
The hobgoblin’s large eyes are full of fear and concern as he latches onto me, his tiny body shaking uncontrollably.
“What happened to him?” Keva asks, breathing heavily, blood spattered across her uniform.
“Vivian!” Lugh shouts.
All eyes, even those of the Dark Sidhe, turn towards the hedge. To my surprise, I find the blind Watcher’s standing before the wall of thorns, head bowed in prayer. A blazing light spreads from his outstretched hands onto Lady Vivian’s still form, making her skin shimmer like a lake under the summer sun, and Puck finally grows still in my arms.
Slowly, the thorns holding her up start to retract, shriveling up away from her body. Until, at last, Lady Vivian opens her eyes again.
“I can’t believe it,” Arthur says, stunned.
Already Lady Vivian’s pulling herself free, and turning toward the Apple Tree beseechingly. Her lips are moving, and I find myself leaning forward to catch her words.
“Come back to me.”
The cry of a woman to her lost love.
With a howl of rage, Myrdwinn lands behind the blind Watcher, and curls his fingers up, summoning his power.
“No!” Lugh shouts, throwing himself at them.
Too late. Roots shoot up from the ground, piercing the praying Watcher from all sides. The Fey’s blind eyes roll up to the skies, mouth open in a silent cry. His light winks out, and the thorny vines close up around Lady Vivian’s slender wrists once more.
Myrdwinn laughs softly. “How does it feel to be trapped?” he asks her. “How does it feel to be unable to help those you care for, huh?”
I tighten my arms around Puck, who’s started shaking again.
Lugh turns on Myrdwinn, face contorted in rage.
“Shit!” Arthur shouts, throwing himself on top of me as Lugh’s fist connects with Myrdwinn’s hastily-raised shield.
The blast crushes us all to the ground, burning through my vision. There’s a strange clicking sound, and Arthur and I both look up to find a draugar inching for us, undeterred by the fact that its flesh and hair have been burned away in the explosion.
Excalibur still in hand, Arthur rolls off me, cutting the draugar at the knees. I struggle to my feet, Puck still clutched in my arms, and choke back a gasp.
No. How could it be, Lugh’s the most powerful Fey I know, the one who defeated this Balor Carman wants to bring back. Myrdwinn shouldn’t be able to withstand such power…
And yet there he still stands, unscathed, strutting before his one-time lover.
“Is that all you have to give me?” he asks, laughing.
Puck shifts in my arms, his attention drawn to a silent shadow that’s landed behind the dead Watcher.
“Gale,” I breathe.
The knight hefts his golden spear above his shoulder, then hurls his weapon at Myrdwinn. The spear whirs through the air, passing inches above Myrdwinn’s head, before landing high in the Apple Tree, the blade sinking deep in its trunk.
“How could you miss?” Keva asks, disbelieving. “He was right in front of you!”
“No, look,” Lance says, pointing at the spot where the shaft of the spear is still visible.
The exact place where the glowing pentacle has been carved, I realize.
A loud, thunderous crack echoes throughout the courtyard, and Myrdwinn lets out a long, agonizing cry.
Understanding dawns on Arthur’s face. “That tree must have been his ogham,” he says. “How did he know?”
“Who cares?” I say, my eyes riveted to the tree as it splinters apart.
Myrdwinn spins around to face us all. “This isn’t going to change a thing!” he spits, his features growing thicker and more tired. He’s going back to his old, crazy schoolmaster self. “Carman’s well on her way to getting what she wants and what you all deserve. Soon enough, this world that you love so much will perish.”
Spittle flies from his toothless mouth. He’s about to shout something else, when Lady Vivian reaches out from the hedge, tenderly wrapping her arms around him. I see her whisper something in the old man’s ear, and his eyes grow round with shock.
Then, to everyone’s surprise, a fat tear seeps out of the corner of his eye. With a muffled sob, Myrdwinn twists around in her arms and hugs her back. Gripping my arms with his tiny hands, Puck lets out a silent howl of distress.
A lump rises in my throat. I pat the hobgoblin gently, feeling useless before the immensity of his grief, and watch his fur change again, from white to red. But when the red bleeds onto my hands, thick and warm, I look up in fear.
Arthur tenses next to me, our fear reflected in everyone else’s faces—Carman’s here.
Chapter 21
Everything Carman’s done to me, all the cutting and bleeding, comes back in full force, rooting me to my spot like a rabbit in a snare. No wonder my brother didn’t bother following us. The rat bastard knew we’d get caught with our pants down anyway.
There’s a shout, and one of the newly-released prisoners falls to a tall, eyeless woman with sallow skin, before she too gets cut down by Sir Boris.
“Keva, to me!” Hadrian shouts, hacking throu
gh two massive draugar.
She rushes to his side, shield held high, and throws herself forward as one of them sweeps a sword it’s found at Hadrian’s legs. The blade hits the side of the shield with a bone-jarring clang, before bouncing off. I see Keva wince as it slices her bicep, before Hadrian’s own broadsword lops off the draugar’s head.
And then, as if in a terrible dream, the whole school vibrates with the urgent peal of the tocsin. A collective shudder runs through Carman’s army. The bells’ sounds evidently grate on their ears. But they don’t let that affect them long.
“To the church, hurry!” Arthur shouts, parrying a Fomori’s sharp talons.
“How?” I ask through gritted teeth.
I sweep my arm in a tight arc, and rocks shoot up from the ground to pierce the Fomori through like bullets. But everywhere I turn there are more demons and draugar, the path Lugh’s Watchers had carved to get to us already closed up.
Arthur’s hazel eyes quickly scan his troops, hair flattened to his scalp by sweat and gore. “Everyone, take flight!” he commands. “Grab anyone who can’t. Now!”
At once, flashes of green erupt over the courtyard, and knights and Watchers alike leap into the air. The demons hiss and howl, trying to catch the fleeing soldiers before they can get away. It is just as Gale once said—not one of them can fly unless born to it, or have stolen the ability from another. Thankfully, none of them seem to have gotten the opportunity to do so yet.
Holding tightly onto Puck, I spare the make-out hedge a final look—its leaves and thorny vines have turned to stone, locking Myrdwinn and Lady Vivian in an eternal embrace.
“Goodbye,” I whisper.
I follow after the others, the rain whipping at my face. Our troops are still fighting in the distance, but Mordred was right; we’re not winning. The earlier retreat the demons suffered was a ploy to get more blood spilled over the school’s altered wards. A sick feeling spreads throughout my body at the thought of all those lives lost to unwittingly help the enemy’s cause.
“Leaving so soon?” Urim calls out behind me.
“None of your business,” I say, picking up my pace.
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