Bloodstone: 2 (Rebel Angels)

by Gillian Philip

  A sigh like a single breath went round the hall, and one woman let out a gasping scream, one a stricken cry. A man stepped forward, staring at Seth’s indigo shirt with its patch of darker darkness over the heart. ‘Feorag,’ he said, his voice raw. ‘Feorag.’

  Kate raised her hand. Silence fell, broken by a single helpless sob. ‘You may pay for that, Murlainn.’

  ‘It’s already paid for.’ His voice darkened with bitterness, and Finn felt a little reassured, because she hadn’t liked that easy lightness in his tone. Not one bit. ‘Five seems a fair price for my brother, Kate. Butchered by Laszlo despite your assurances.’

  ‘Murlainn. I’m sorry.’ She turned to Laszlo where he stood in shadow behind her, and shook her head sadly. ‘Did I ask you to kill his brother, Nils?’

  Laszlo’s mouth tightened, but his satisfied smile stayed in place.

  Kate gave Finn a sly glance. ‘I seem to have misinformed you, Fionnuala. Not so much a crossroads for poor Cù Chaorach: more of a dead end. But I liked your uncle,’ she murmured, a little hungrily. ‘He was such a challenge.’

  If Kate was chocolate, Finn thought, she’d melt before she could eat herself. Maybe her vanity really was her big weakness. Maybe they even had a chance, or a ghost of one.

  Seth spat on the rug at Kate’s feet. ‘A challenge you never met. Never will now.’

  ‘Ah.’ She sighed almost apologetically. ‘That’s a matter of perspective, isn’t it? Honestly, Nils, that was clumsy of you. I had high hopes for Murlainn and Cù Chaorach both. Well, I hear the brainless boar Torc got what was coming to him. What about the twins?’

  ‘Your men killed them as I arrived.’ Seth laughed contemptuously, and Finn realised with unease that, in fact, Seth could lie very well indeed. ‘What a panic. Was it you that taught Laszlo to abandon the field before his men?’

  ‘I thought it was all over.’ Laszlo took an aggressive step forward.

  Seth arched an ironic eyebrow. ‘It is now.’

  ‘You’re blocking me, Murlainn.’ Kate put her fingers to her temple. ‘Why?’

  ‘What, when Conal... when he’s still...’ He took a shaky breath. ‘You’ve no business in my head,’ he said at last. He went to Kate, putting a hand on the back of her neck as she smiled provocatively at him. ‘Not right now. Not in my head.’ He gripped her hair and kissed her with a passion that was close to violence.

  There was something disturbing about Seth’s kiss, Finn thought. It was just too good to be an act, his pulse leaping in his throat, his fingers white-knuckled where they gripped Kate’s shining hair, his eyes open and tormented with lust. Beyond them Laszlo’s face had warped into a mask of hatred, and the warmth was gone from his burnt-sugar stare.

  ‘Of course. You’re upset. I understand that.’ Drawing away, Kate caressed Seth’s cropped skull. ‘I like the new look.’

  Even in his obvious pain he looked bemused. ‘You know fine there’s a reason for it.’

  ‘I’ve told you I’m sorry. I would never want to hurt you, Murlainn.’ Gazing at him with open adoration, she drew her fingertips idly down his stomach.

  Stroking her neck, he met her eyes. There was such fanatic desire in his face, Finn wondered if he could even remember all the others she’d promised not to hurt. Kate’s attention, though, was not all on Seth. Finn could sense the woman’s mind reaching past him, past them all, far beyond the caverns. Kate looked at Seth as if she was looking through glass.

  ‘Seth!’ gasped Finn, but Kate had already taken a sudden step back from him, her eyes narrowing to slits of gold.

  ‘The twins are not dead,’ she whispered.

  Seth’s fingers slid into the silver chain that hung round her neck, and tightened it. Pulling her hard against him, he flicked his hunting knife against her throat and held it there. Jed scrambled to his feet, tugging Finn after him.

  ‘How dare you, Seth,’ Kate hissed, her tongue flickering like a snake’s. ‘How dare you.’

  Seth pressed his face to hers. ‘I know the position of everyone in this hall.’ His voice rang quiet but clear. ‘If anyone tries to help her they’ll be killing her.’

  ‘The nerve – the insolence – the heresy of you!’ Kate was spitting and choking on her rage, her eyes glowing. ‘You’ll die for this. Choose how. Choose by what you do next.’

  ‘Shall I take you with me, though?’ There was a bead of sweat on his temple.

  ‘Get your hands off me, you cur.’

  ‘That’s a new one, babes, coming from you.’ Seth brushed her cheekbone with his lips, as if he couldn’t help himself. ‘I will kill you. You know it. Tell them.’

  ‘He wouldn’t dare,’ shouted a voice. Gealach. ‘We’d rip him in quarters.’

  ‘And still be too late.’ Seth smiled thinly, his gaze still locked on Kate. ‘My brother was gralloched by her man today and left alive to the birds. Torc was slaughtered by her pet Lammyr just to trap the healer and her twin. You all think we deserved it. But you know I’d dare. I saw the state of my brother and I was in his head and I guarantee I would.’ He was breathing hard. ‘How much do you love your witch queen? Bring me the infant.’ When no-one moved, he pressed his blade into Kate’s flesh, drawing a thin trickle of blood.

  ‘Bring me my son!’ he yelled.

  There was movement at the entrance to one of the passageways, the press of bodies divided, and Rory tottered forward.

  Jed gasped, and would have run straight for him had Seth not jabbed his blade tighter against Kate’s throat, provoking a shriek of thwarted rage.

  ‘Get rid of that,’ he said viciously. ‘What is it, a cat? A piglet?’

  ‘Ah.’ Kate’s sigh was almost fond. ‘You’re strong, Murlainn.’

  ‘Me and Cù Chaorach. He is in my heart and my head and you have us both to deal with. Now bring me my son. Another changeling and you’ll lose an ear.’

  Where Rory had been, there was nothing now, but distantly, from one of the passageways, echoed the rowling shriek of an offended cat.

  ‘Bring the brat,’ snarled Kate to Laszlo. ‘We can always get him back.’

  ‘Over my dead body,’ growled Jed.

  ‘Quite,’ said Laszlo, and he walked to a group of the women, lifting a child from reluctant arms. Grey eyes sparked in the infant’s tear-blotched face and he stretched his arms to Jed.

  ‘Ed!’ he sobbed, as if he’d been abandoned for a month.

  Jed swept him up and nodded at Finn. She swallowed, her throat dry as dust. Now would come the hardest part: getting Rory out of here. She had no idea how they were going to do it, and she hoped against hope that Seth did. ‘Seth,’ she said. ‘It’s him. It’s Rory.’

  ‘Good,’ said Seth. ‘Now go.’

  Jed and Finn looked at one another, then back at Seth. In unison they said: ‘What?’

  ‘Go!’ he roared. ‘Or do you think they’ll let us live just for chess partners?’

  They didn’t need a third telling. Finn looked back at Seth once, standing at bay with his arm round Kate’s neck and his knife still pressed almost lovingly to her jugular. His glance was so swift she only just managed to catch it, then his focus was all on his faery lover once again.

  The crowd parted reluctantly as they edged out with Rory. In the tunnel beyond the hall they took to their heels, and reached the bay mare running. She whickered fondly to Jed, and struck the ground with a hoof.

  ‘Do we just leave him?’ said Finn desperately as she hauled herself into the saddle.

  Jed handed Rory up, but he didn’t meet her eyes. ‘We have to.’

  As she pulled Jed awkwardly up behind her, they saw the two wolves stalk forward towards the archway. Then the bay mare was off at the gallop, and they saw no more.

  I backed slowly towards the cavern mouth, feeling the inches with my mind. It was harder now. She was inside it and it hurt, and she wasn’t alone, an insidious pressure building from the combined malevolence of everyone in the hall, not least the ones whose lovers and sons were newly dea
d.

  ‘Ah, Seth,’ Kate murmured hoarsely against the chain that bit hard into her neck. ‘Never to see your son again, after all your efforts!’

  I shut my eyes, the better to focus on them all, but I was losing them; they were drifting out of the map in my mind, and in a few moments it would be impossible to protect my flanks. When that happened I would be as good as dead, or perhaps not as good as dead. It wouldn’t be so quick as death. For all my stupid bravado I didn’t want to be ripped in quarters, and Gealach was not bluffing.

  Then I felt the warm presence of the wolves at my side, heard Branndair’s low growl. It made me oddly happy, and a little courage trickled back to me. Despite everything, they were with me still. Even if their protection couldn’t buy me enough time, then to die with friends, however slowly, however badly, would be better than dying alone.

  I wanted to link my mind to Branndair’s. I needed the comfort it always gave me, that wild half-wolf feeling, but I couldn’t spare the concentration. Maybe later, when they had me, maybe I’d get the chance then, if Branndair lived long enough. Maybe it would help a bit. I couldn’t imagine it would help much.

  ‘Well,’ Kate went on. She knew my fear, and despite the bite of her own necklace on her throat, her mouth twitched with merriment. ‘At least you’ll be seeing your brother soon enough.’

  ‘Is that how it happens?’ Sweat trickled into my eye. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘How would I know better than you?’ she murmured. ‘It’s a comforting thought, isn’t it? But in line with current scientific thinking? On balance, perhaps not.’

  I let out a rasping breath that was almost a laugh. ‘You’re funny.’

  ‘I always thought you were too. What a shame it is, what a shame. You could lie down with me this very moment, couldn’t you? Ah, Seth. What a waste.’ She sighed dreamily. ‘You see, when I said you’d be seeing Conal soon, I didn’t mean very soon. It won’t be nearly soon enough for you. You’ll be begging me to make it sooner.’ She licked her lips. ‘I’ll like that.’

  ‘I know you will. Don’t go thinking I had any illusions.’ I breathed hard through my nose, trying to loosen the numbing knot of terror in my guts.

  She laughed.

  That did it. In my head I could feel the last traces of Conal, dissipating slowly but inexorably. I couldn’t hold on to him, couldn’t keep him. Reckless hate raced through my veins, chasing out the fear. ‘See when you’ve got me begging for mercy?’ I hissed in her ear. ‘You remember this, witch: however much I beg, whatever I tell you, I don’t mean it.’

  From her throat came a sound of frustrated fury. I’d spoilt her fun. A tiny fraction of it maybe, but it was enough to madden her, however I paid for it in the coming hours and days. It was my turn to laugh. A small, hollow sound, but I’d laughed in her face, at least.

  Behind my back was the passageway to night and blackness. On the nape of my neck I felt a breath of wind from the north, the tang of winter on it, but it was gone in less than an instant and I could smell nothing but the scent of her flesh. Grinding my teeth, I heard as if from a long way off the growling snort of the roan, the sparking ring of a hoof on granite.

  I took the blade tip from her neck and kissed the welling blood on her skin. Kate sighed, arching her neck blissfully. Twisting the knifepoint into the jump ring of the necklace, I snapped it, and caught the emerald pendant in my palm as it fell. ‘This isn’t yours.’

  She stumbled and I shoved her forward with my foot, seeing Laszlo reach for a crossbow even as I turned to the passageway and ran.

  ‘Kill him.’ Kate’s calm words echoed in the hall behind me. ‘Slowly, now.’

  The weight of their hate slammed into my head, almost making me lose my footing, but I recovered and ran stumbling on, the wolves at my back, a flimsy block barely protecting my mind. Sheathing my knife I drew my sword. The horse was a pale impatient shape at the mouth of the cavern and I reached for its withers and flung myself onto its back even as they swarmed from the archway. I’ll grow up now, Conal, I promise. I promise I will. Please let me.

  ‘Shoot the kelpie!’ yelled Kate, and the beast beneath me screamed and staggered sideways with a crossbow bolt in its flank. Snatching at it, I hauled it out with an effort. Green-eyed, the roan turned on Kate’s fighters, pawing the earth, while I fought it, swearing obscenely. Its fury was too demonic now to carry me away.

  Kate smiled, wide and lovely. ‘Skinshanks! Where’s Skinshanks? Fetch the Lammyr!’

  I gasped as a thrown dagger sliced into my arm, making me drop my sword. Thank the gods for the order to kill me slowly; Alainn’s aim wasn’t truly as bad as that.

  I drew my hunting knife once more and grinned at Kate. ‘You want Skinshanks? All yours.’

  I reached down for the Lammyr’s head, slicing through its hair to free it from the roan’s mane, brandishing it in my fist.

  All sound died. Watching their shock turn to predatory scorn, I could feel their collective dare in my mind. They knew I wouldn’t do it; I didn’t have the guts. I wasn’t the man my brother was.

  Well, I wasn’t. And I wasn’t sure I did dare. I thought of what it might bring. And then I stopped thinking of that, because what was the point?

  I closed my eyes, half-smiling, then snapped them back open.

  ‘I curse the ground you cross,’ I screamed. ‘On my life and my soul and my heart, I curse it for your children and your children’s children.’ Viciously I flung down the head between myself and the horde.

  It seemed to grin, one final time. Then it exploded into vile fragments, showering the ground between me and Kate’s Sithe, burning all that it touched in sparks of congealed blood like pale flame.

  I heard Kate’s shriek of unearthly fury, felt the turmoil of incredulous minds, but I didn’t wait to enjoy their horror, finally dragging the roan’s head round as it recoiled from the Lammyr’s spattered remains. It fought me for a moment more before springing forward into a gallop, and that was long enough for me to feel two hard blows in my back that knocked me forward against the roan’s neck, the breath stunned out of my lungs. Then we were both running with the wind into the northern winter.

  Finn reined in the bay mare, who stopped gratefully, head down, limbs trembling with exhaustion. Leaning forward, hugging her neck, she slid off.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Jed glanced back into the darkness. ‘We have to keep going.’

  ‘Do that. Go on, take Rory. I’ll catch up. I can track you. I can track.’ She hoped that was true. But whether it was or not, she couldn’t go any further. Not without him. Scum, traitor, turncoat: whatever he was, she was. Besides, he’d saved them, and she wasn’t going to abandon him.

  ‘But you haven’t got a horse!’

  She shook her head violently, needing to convince herself as much as Jed. ‘Yours can’t carry us all any more.’

  ‘That’s not what this is about!’ Jed’s voice cracked. ‘Is it?’

  ‘I can’t just leave him. I have to wait and see, at least. Find out what happened to him.’

  Clutching Rory, Jed wriggled forward and gathered up the reins. ‘Look, if this is some kind of thing you think you’ve got to do for Conal...’ He hesitated. ‘It’s pointless, you know? Is that what it’s about?’

  ‘No, no. Really that isn’t it. Please go on, Jed. Please.’ Before I start crying and begging to come with you after all.

  ‘Well, you’d better come soon.’ There was an obstruction in his throat. ‘I don’t want to have to come all the way back to get you.’

  She couldn’t bear to watch him ride away, so she climbed to a jutting spar of rock that glittered with mica in the starlight. Cold, it was so cold. She lay on her stomach, feeling the deep chill radiate through her blood and into her bones. She let her focus dissipate, let her instincts kick in, and suddenly she knew how it was done. There in her brain she found the place, tweaked it like a proud apprentice mechanic, and felt warmth churn in her bones. So that was Seth’s secret. She smiled.


  Seth. Remembering, she lifted her cheek from the stone and peered out across the moor. It wasn’t her amateur efforts alone that had chased away the cold. In the short time she’d lain there mildness had blunted the weather, and now the stars had vanished. For a moment she thought they were drifting to earth, then saw it was only the first flakes of snow.

  He isn’t coming, she thought, and the stab of grief surprised her.

  She stood up, limbs stiff, a dull ache in her heart. Both of them: she’d only gone and lost both of them. She might as well set out on the long trudge after Jed, though it barely seemed worth the effort. It seemed so terribly pointless, that was all. And now it was snowing.

  In the distance, between earth and sky, movement caught her eye, then running shapes. Clambering down from her perch, she ran awkwardly down the stony slope, squinting into the gathering whorls of snow. Through it the blue roan cantered, the wolves at its heels, a figure slumped across its neck.

  ‘Seth,’ she yelled, the snowflakes drawing in her voice and absorbing it. ‘Seth!’

  He drew himself up. For a moment he seemed to have trouble focusing, then he was nudging the roan with his heels, steering it straight for her. It didn’t break pace as he leaned down and with a grunt of pain swung her up by one arm. For a horrible instant she hung between the horse and the earth, then dragged herself up behind him.

  Unexpectedly she knocked against some obstruction, and Seth screamed. Then she did too, and clapped her hand over her mouth. He hung forward once more against the horse’s neck, gratefully clinging to it as Finn gripped his belt and stared at the two shining shafts that stood out from his back.

  They overtook Jed just before dawn, the bay mare breaking into a canter to keep up. Brokentor was not hard to spot, a volcanic remnant that jutted from the moor maybe three hundred feet, its eroded plug split and tumbled by aeons of weather. Sionnach and Eili rose as they approached. Eili’s jumper was crusted with dried blood in a swathe from her neck to her side, and her ragged hair was gone, hacked down to dark red stubble.