“What is that…thing?” Sir Hengist asks, having hurried over.
“Excuse me,” Papillon says, puffing out his heaving chest. “I am the ambassador of none other than her Mightiest—”
“News?” Arthur cuts him off.
Papillon hiccups at the interruption. “Right, right. I’m here to tell you it’s time to land the eagle.” The flying mouse looks around expectantly, but upon the lack of reaction from the people around, adds, “It’s time to lead the dragon back to its nest. The wards are ready, and Morgan’s going after Carman.”
Keva gasps, but the others are already moving, calling for the troops to march for battle one final time.
Chapter 37
Light flares in my vision, then something hard connects with my shin. I snarl in response, squinting down at the blinding light.
“How dare—”
“Clearer-headed, hmm?”
I blink in confusion as I try to adjust myself to the fact that I’m no longer with Arthur and Mordred in the vision, but stuck instead in the hallway between the library and armory, Nibs standing before Agravain’s remains.
“Yer work?” the clurichaun asks without touching the body.
I nod. Maybe it’s from having spent too much time in the company of demons, or perhaps because Agravain’s hate turned him into one of them, but I find myself unable to feel guilt at having killed him.
“Banshee?” I call out in alarm, looking for her.
“In the staircase,” Nibs says.
I rush over, needing to make sure with my own eyes that the banshee’s all right, and find her sitting on the lowest step, holding onto her side.
“Are you all right?” I ask, dropping to my knees beside her.
The banshee flinches away from my touch. “Ffffiinnne,” she says, before going stock still, cowl cocked to the side.
“What is it?” I ask, ears perked.
Then someone outside shouts, “Incoming!”
It’s the same warning cry whenever something large falls through the sky-lake barrier, but this time it holds a note of panic to it.
Dread spikes through me as the cry is taken up by more demons, turning into shrieks of fear.
“Nibs!” I shout.
I barely have the chance to raise a shield around us three when something massive crashes into the courtyard. Windows shatter inward, the whole building heaving and rattling like it’s going to collapse on itself. Then the library walls explode as a giant cone of white metal punches through, tearing everything down in its passage in a deafening crash.
“To me!” I shout as the eastern wing of the school caves in.
Wrapping my arms around Nibs and the banshee, I close my eyes, concentrating only on keeping my barrier up. I grit my teeth, sweat pouring down my face and back. Pieces of the staircase crack and fall around us, bouncing off my shield. Then at last, the quakes subside.
“Ssssafe now,” the banshee says through the ringing in my ears, though she doesn’t move away.
It takes another five breaths before I finally let go, and drop to my knees, drenched through and trembling like a leaf.
“A bloody plane!” Nibs hiccups.
I cough out a laugh, nerves frayed from the tension.
“W-would it be t-too much to h-hope it’s s-squashed Carman?” I ask.
Nibs rolls his eyes at me. “Ya should know better than that by now,” he says. “The two dumbos are keepin’ her busy upstairs, but they won’t be able to hold her back much longer.”
“Urim and Thummim are what?” I breathe out.
But the clurichaun is already speeding up the staircase, moving faster than he ever has, and the banshee and I follow him to the first floor.
“Shhhh,” Nibs says before we can barrel into the hallway.
“What are we waiting for?” I ask impatiently.
“Our diversion,” Nibs says, staring wide eyed at the scarred metal side of the plane where the library used to be.
The KORT room is just a few dozen feet away, and I can feel the Siege Perilous’s presence within, beckoning. But demons are now pouring out the door in a dark ravenous wave to investigate the plane’s wreckage, too many for me to face alone, even with the banshee’s help.
Yet I can’t let them put their filthy paws on anyone that might be in the plane, dead or alive.
“Wait,” Nibs tells me, holding me back by my pant leg before I can move. “Keep yer energy, it’s my turn now.”
Puffing himself up, the clurichaun gives me a mock salute, then launches himself into the corridor, pointing ahead. “DYBBUK!” he shouts at the top of his lungs.
Every demon freezes in its tracks, and I frown at the strange word, trying to place where I’ve heard it before. I retreat into the staircase as two of the beasts try to push their way to the front, when a large furry creature turns on them with a snarl, jaws snapping. The beast catches one of the two demons on the shoulder, and bites down on it with a loud crunch.
Then chaos hits, as demon turns against demon. Only then do I remember what dybbuk means.
“There really is a skin stealer here?” I ask the banshee, repressing a shiver.
“Yesssss,” the banshee states.
I lean a little out of the doorway’s cover. Could it truly be one of them is a skin stealer? I see Nibs slip behind the corpse of a tall, willowy woman, nearly getting crushed under another falling demon. Then a silent figure turns, kicking a demon in the chest, before spearing two others with her twin blades.
I suddenly feel faint, and find myself clutching the ogham in my pocket, taking comfort in the gem’s warmth.
“Kaede?” I whisper.
“Yesssss,” the banshee repeats.
“Kaede was a dybbuk all this time, and you never told me?”
The banshee shrugs, and I squeeze the ogham harder, feeling its rapid throb against my fingers, like the beating of a hummingbird’s heart. I can’t believe we’ve had a demon at our sides all this time who could have killed us any time it wanted.
Except it never did, did it? And now it’s fighting for us still, drawing the other demons’ attention away from us.
“Not bad, eh?” Nibs says, slinking back to us. But despite his wicked grin, he’s paler than usual.
“A dybbuk,” I say through numb lips, still unable to believe it.
“Turned out better ‘n expected,” Nibs continues, wiping dark blood from his cheek. “Better to kill yer allies than risk havin’ one of them turn against ya, eh?”
I stare at the clurichaun as he shifts uneasily from one foot to the next. He glances back out into the hallway.
“Alrighty, almost clear,” he says, sounding more nasally than usual.
And in my pocket, the ogham only grows warmer.
“Nibs?”
The clurichaun almost jumps out of his skin, and turns a wide eye in my direction. “Guess it’s time to face our demon, huh?” he says, trying to sound as defiant as he always has, and failing miserably.
Iridescent light floods the staircase in rapid pulses as I pull the ogham out of my pocket. Nibs’s eyes open even wider, mouth dropping open in shock.
“Yours, isn’t it?” I ask.
Nibs can only stare, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his scrawny neck. It’s all the confirmation I need.
“Your arm,” I say, holding my free hand out.
“No time,” Nibs whispers, but I can hear the longing in his voice.
Finally, seeing I won’t budge until he does what I tell him, he slowly extends his small arm for me—the very same Arthur cut open the night we first went to investigate Dub’s murders in the surface world.
At a sign from me, the banshee pushes Nibs’s red sleeve up, revealing the puckered edges of a long scar. I tighten my hold on him as the banshee slowly draws her knife down his arm. Then, deftly, I push the ogham inside the wound, and Nibs lets out a shuddering groan.
“As promised,” I say.
But Nibs’s half-melted face breaks into a sweat,
pain pulling at his deformed features. His breath hitches. I look in panic at the banshee.
“Hisssss body’sssss rejjjjjecting ittttt,” she hisses, moving away from us, as if scared. “Notttt ssssstronnng enoughhhh.”
Help I once promised him. But now that the time has come, I’m scared I might mess it up and end up poisoning him instead, or outright kill him.
Nibs lets out a miserable yelp.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I can’t…I can’t do this…”
Nibs’s slaps his other hand above mine. “Please,” he says through gritted teeth.
I bite down hard on my lip as a spasm tightens his hand around mine, crushing my tarsals. And before I know what I’m doing, power seeps out of me, as if drawn out by an unknown force, to pour into Nibs’s arm.
Slowly, the clurichaun’s breathing eases, and, as his body reforms the bonds around his ogham that were once so cruelly ruptured, the wound finally closes.
Only then does the strange force release me, and I watch, transfixed, as the burns on Nibs’s face slowly disappear, his skin pulling back tightly over his skull, as if I’d never put my iron-laced jacket on him.
Mouth opening and closing without a sound, Nibs gently presses his hand over his smooth cheek, then collapses against me, sobbing.
“I’m sorry it took me this long,” I say, patting his back awkwardly.
I stare up at the banshee for help, but she just shrugs, and I finally allow myself a smile. Out in the hallway, I can still hear the sounds of demons dying, but for a moment, I’m happy. Happy to have finally managed to keep a promise, happy to have righted a wrong, and helped a friend in need.
Nibs finally pushes himself away from me, with a long, moist sniffle that makes me wonder how much snot he’s left on my jacket.
“OK, stop dallying’,” he says, as if this is all my fault. “We ain’t got no time fer a buncha sops.”
He turns on his heels, and heads back into the hallway, forcing the banshee and I to scramble along. Kaede, or whoever it is who took her place, has done an amazing job of clearing us a path. The floor is littered with bodies, ichor sprayed on every surface, and she’s managed to lead the remaining ones to chase after her, leaving the KORT room wide open for us.
I lose my balance on the slick floor as another explosion detonates outside the school, catching myself on the KORT room’s doorframe before pulling myself inside. I blink, letting my eyes roam over the pulsing Gate taking up half the space where the round table used to be, then to the sides. But there’s no sign of Urim or Thummim. And certainly no Carman.
“What is this?” I ask, looking for Nibs.
I catch movement out of the corner of my eye, then something sharp pokes me in the ribs.
“Not another step,” a high-pitched voice says in my ear.
I freeze, frowning at the red-headed boy holding me at knife point, the Celtic cross and shield on the breast pocket of his school uniform denoting he’s a squire like me.
“What—” I start.
The boy jabs his knife a little further. “I said, don’t move.”
I feel the banshee move behind me, but I motion for her to stay put. The squire’s brow and upper lip are covered in a sheen of sweat, his pupils dilated. He’s just a scared boy who has no idea what’s going on. Time may be short, but if we can minimize the number of casualties, that’ll be even better.
“Let me through,” I tell him calmly. “We’re only trying to stop this whole mess.”
“I’d counsel you to shut up,” Jennifer’s beautiful voice says, making the boy jump.
I wince as his dagger pierces my skin, just beneath my rib.
“No longer sleeping, I see,” I say tightly.
Jennifer glides past me, and, dangling a foot above her is Nibs, his tiny fists pumping the air furiously.
“Where’s Lance?” I ask.
Jennifer shrugs prettily, her long golden hair almost glowing in the room’s dimness. “Don’t know, don’t care.”
Again, I feel that all-too familiar anger surge through me. “Lance risked his neck to save you, and all you have to say is that you don’t care about him?” I say.
“That’s always been the problem with the guy,” Jennifer says, stopping beside the Siege Perilous, “he’s always been too good. Always abiding by the rules, except for one thing.” She smiles, touching her lips absentmindedly, before sighing. “But no matter how entertaining it may have been with him, it wasn’t enough. Not for me.”
“What she’s trying to say is that all she ever cared for is power,” another voice says from the other side of the shimmering Gate.
“Mordred!” I exclaim in relief.
If he’s here, then that means Arthur and our troops have arrived too. I look past him through the arched windows in search of our army, and Mordred smiles knowingly.
With all the leisure in the world, he walks over to me, then plucks the blade out of the squire’s trembling fingers.
“You know better than to play with pointy objects, Urien,” Mordred tells the boy. “And you,” he adds, turning to his girlfriend, “should know better than try to betray me.”
Jennifer takes a small step back, her blue eyes fierce in her pale face. “I’m not the traitor here,” she says.
“Try to?” I repeat in confusion.
Then a second shadow darkens the windows, and fear wells up in me as a blood-soaked Carman floats into the room.
“I am so glad you made it back, Mordred,” the witch says, her black feathered dress pooling out around her in a widening circle of darkness. “Algol is at its zenith. It is time to finish what we started.”
Chapter 38
My eyes flicker between Mordred and Carman, the whole world around me splintering.
“Tell me this isn’t true,” I whisper. “You said you’d team up with us.”
“Did I?” Mordred says, voice dripping with condescension. “I don’t recall making any pact of the sort.”
“That’s not true, I saw you fight with Arthur, I saw…”
I clamp my mouth shut around a curse. I didn’t actually see him do anything but talk. Talk, and attempt to convince the Order to move against the school sooner. And now I know why: Because he and Carman are finally ready to open the seventh Gate of Hell and destroy us all.
I’m clenching my hands so hard they’re shaking.
“I’ll deal with you later,” I tell Mordred, gathering power around me in a shimmering shield.
With a flick of my hand, I shove Urien aside, then walk purposefully toward Carman. Her shadow pushes against my defenses, wanting to strike me down. But just like what happened down in the library, I force her power back, step by careful step.
“Shield us, Lord,” I pray, diverting some of my power toward my hand until little bolts crackle along my knuckles. “Aim your spear at those who hunt us down...”
Carman’s smirk turns into an angry snarl.
“Morgan, stop!” Mordred shouts.
“And in this last hour, do not forsake us,” I finish, lunging at her.
◆◆◆
Lugh jumps in front of a swarm of pixies, raising both arms before him as the dragon opens its massive maw and bellows out red-hot fire. The flames part before Lugh, as if they’ve hit an invisible wall, and Oberon’s pixies buzz away in thick clouds to fall onto a group of Fomori that have used this moment to attack a squad of young knights.
“There’s too many of them!” Blanchefleur shouts, her crystal sword flashing before her as she strikes a Dark Sidhe down.
“Where are the nets?” Arthur calls out, and my heart does a somersault at the sound of his voice.
“With the cousins,” Hadrian retorts, spearing a squat demon in the eye as Keva shields his open side.
Light blooms all around us, followed by a resounding boom. The earth heaves, sending everyone flying back. I scan the burned-up field, scattered with the charred remains of men, Fey and demons alike.
“Anything broken?” I hear Keva ask,
helping Hadrian back up.
I catch sight of a Fomori as it charges straight for her, webbed claws out.
“Keva!” I shout in a soundless cry.
At the last second, Keva turns and flings her battered shield up, blocking the demon as it swipes for her head. The blow lands on the shield, sending her reeling into Hadrian. The knight slips, and he grunts as a demon stabs him in the side.
“Aerouant! Ormr!” Arthur shouts.
Flashes of green and blue light up the sky, then the world shakes as twin bellows rise in the air. Heart stammering, I watch the two summoned dragons unfurl their long, leathery wings to fly high above our heads, bodies glistening in the veiled sunlight.
◆◆◆
I let out a choked gasp as my vision disintegrates, and I’m yanked back inside the KORT room. Carman’s hand tightens around my neck.
“Is it fun seeing your friends dying one by one?” Carman asks, sending a fiery wave of pain scorching down my body.
I grit my teeth, scrabbling uselessly against her hold as I slowly run out of oxygen.
“But if your friends think those puny beasts are going to make a difference,” she continues, “then they are more foolish than I thought.”
“Then why are you so scared?” Mordred asks.
Carman smiles, a cruel rictus on her bloodied face. Her fingers squeeze tighter, and I whimper as something in my neck pops. My hands fall to my sides, useless, all sensations in my body gone.
“That ought to keep you compliant for a bit while your brother frees Balor,” she says, tossing my limp body to the side.
I fall onto the flagstones like a ragdoll, stars bursting in my sight as my head strikes the floor. I hear the banshee cry out and tears of frustration well up in my eyes.
“Looks like she peed herself,” the squire Urien says in disgust.
My breath hitches, coming out in small, labored gasps. Crap. This is so not how I’d envisioned things to go.
“Wouldn’t be the first time, I hear,” Jennifer says.
“Shut it, Jen.”
“Lance!” Jennifer exclaims, unable to hide her shock at his sudden presence.
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