Realm of Mirrors (The DeathSpeaker Codex Book 3)

by Sonya Bateman

  “Deadly.”

  “Wait a minute.” I couldn’t believe I didn’t think of this before. “I can just cast a glamour on her.”

  Uriskel looked dubious. “Really. You are aware that laying glamour on another is quite different from generating your own,” he said. “It is difficult, and the results are often muddled.”

  “I guess. But I’ve done it before.”

  “Have you?”

  “Yeah, and I think that’s a much better idea than rolling in the dirt,” Sadie said as she slowed to a halt. “Go for it.”

  Uriskel stopped and hung back with a watchful expression.

  “All right.” I faced Sadie, feeling a little self-conscious with everyone staring at me. I’d go with the clothes she wore here, the ones that got destroyed when she went wolf. Black shirt and pants, green tunic, brown boots.

  The moment I pictured the outfit, she was wearing it.

  “Whoa.” I drew back and glanced at Uriskel, who looked just as surprised. “I’ve never done it that way,” I said. “I mean, that was fast. Usually I have to think about it a while, and concentrate, and…Jesus Christ.”

  Sadie stared down at herself. “Holy shit. Even Taeral can’t do me like that.”

  Okay. I was not going to think about how much innuendo that statement was loaded with. “Any idea what the hell’s going on?” I said to Uriskel. “It happened before, while we were hunting. That arm shield…I shouldn’t have remembered the right words until I was already dead. I never do.”

  “It is Arcadia,” he said softly. “The magic, the moonlight. You’ve accelerated what should have been a natural process—one you’d been denied as a changeling.”

  “What process?”

  “The process of becoming Fae. Of using your abilities, strengthening your spark,” he said. “Being here has given you all that you’d have developed, if you’d known of your heritage from the beginning.”

  “Hold on,” I said. “You’re telling me I just picked up twenty-six years of missing magic in one day?”

  “Aye. And you should also have a greater understanding of the Fae language. Bèhful grah a’gat ahn caélyn?”

  “Tae’s li moh daartheír.” The words left my mouth angrily, before I could even think about what he’d said—or how I’d respond.

  Do you love the girl?

  And I’d answered she’s with my brother.

  “That much, I knew,” Uriskel said with a smirk. “But you’ve answered my question as well.”

  Sadie gave me an incredulous smile. “Holy crap, Gideon. You can speak Fae already?” she said. “What did he say? What did you say?”

  “I merely asked him how he was feeling,” Uriskel said.

  “Yeah.” I glared at him. “And I said none of your business.”

  “Well, you definitely sound like a Fae.” She took my hand, and I tried not to shudder too hard. “You know, maybe we can do this,” she said. “The wolf is really strong over here, and you’ve got all this new power. And Uriskel has, um…”

  “Two hundred years of hatred and rage,” he intoned. “And a deck of playing cards.”

  “Right. That.” She flashed him a look of confused sympathy, and then turned to me. “We can get them back. Can’t we?”

  I wanted to say yes, and mean it. But the simple little syllable refused to pass my lips. Maybe I did have more power, but I sure as hell didn’t know how to use it. Except for compelling dead people. And I wasn’t even sure about that. “We will,” I finally said.

  My hesitation had cost her some of the hope in her eyes, and I hated myself for it. I had to look away, so I lifted my gaze to the trees, trying to pull it together.

  And found a pair of bright orange eyes staring down at me.

  “What the hell’s that?” I said, stumbling back a few steps as another set of eyes appeared just above the first. Then a third beside that one.

  An awful, dry rattling sound filled the air, like a plague of demon locusts. Suddenly there were orange eyes glittering from every treetop.

  I expected Uriskel to brush it off, to say they were Arcadian flying monkeys or something, just another charming fairyland critter that could probably kill us, so don’t worry. And here I thought he’d said we were safe from the trees.

  But he didn’t brush it off. He looked downright horrified. “The Orendl,” he said hoarsely. “They gather when they sense that blood is about to be shed.”

  Great. So they were Arcadian vultures.

  “Aye, they do,” a strange voice said. “But the truly unwelcome news is, ye’ll be the ones to do the shedding, dearies.”

  All three of us turned in unison toward the sound, and I recognized the short, green-clad figure with the red hat standing in the path ahead. It was a Redcap—and not just any bad-tempered vampire leprechaun. The same one I’d bashed back across the Veil in Central Park.

  And he’d brought company.

  CHAPTER 24

  The grinning trio behind the Redcap were Fae. I could actually sense that now—but I didn’t need to, because they weren’t wearing any glamour.

  Two had different shades of green skin, and the third was necrotic purple. Scarified tattoos marked most of their exposed skin, including their faces. They all had pointed ears, hair like shredded vines, long arms, fingers tipped with thorns. They wore belted layers of dirty cloth and no shoes, and their eyes held a feral gleam.

  So now I knew what the wild ones looked like. And for all our glamour and disguises, we didn’t exactly blend.

  Before anyone could react, Uriskel stepped in front of us. He was glowing, the way Taeral did when he got lethally pissed off—but his light was a dull, angry red. “I’ve laid claim to these outsiders,” he snarled. “Touch them, and I’ll scatter your entrails to the winds.”

  Whatever he was doing, I had a feeling they weren’t in the mood to listen. I figured now was a good time to arm ourselves. I yanked my pack off, pulled it open and handed one of the guns to Sadie.

  I took the dagger. At least I had a chance of hurting something with it.

  The Redcap opened his too-wide mouth and laughed, showing all of his sharp, yellowed teeth. “Me wild friends are not here to challenge ye, Sidhe. We’ll be takin’ that one,” he said, pointing a gnarled finger at me. “Ye’ll not escape again, me little bargaining chip. Not when I know how truly valuable ye are to her Majesty.”

  Uriskel cut a glare at me. “What is this putrid halfwit babbling about?”

  “I don’t know, man,” I said. “We ran into him in New York, months ago. He tried to take me to the Unseelie Queen then, too.” I stepped forward, holding the dagger. “I think I’ll pass on that, Lucky.”

  “What business have you with Moirehna?” Uriskel snapped at the Redcap.

  “None that’s yours,” he said. “But as I’m a reasonable putrid halfwit, I’ll make a bargain with ye.” A grin crawled across his face. “Give us that, and we’ll let ye and the female live—after me friends have a wee bit of fun, that is.”

  My gut clenched. “Over my dead body.”

  “Oh, we can’t be havin’ that. She’ll want ye alive, yet.” His grin vanished. “Kill the female and the Sidhe. And make that one bleed.”

  Damn. I really didn’t want to do this.

  Uriskel moved first, gesturing with both arms as he shouted, “Céa biahn!” All four of them flew back a good ten feet and crashed to the ground.

  But they didn’t stay down long.

  As Uriskel charged them, Sadie took aim with the gun. In a flash it occurred to me that a gun going off in this world would draw attention we didn’t want—and I had an idea of what to do about it.

  I shoved the dagger in my belt and grabbed the muzzle of the gun. “Cíunaas.”

  Sadie gave me a frantic glance. “What the hell—”

  “Just shoot. And don’t go wolf.” I couldn’t let her risk hurting someone she didn’t want to. Plus, I really didn’t want to get mauled.

  “Fine,” she spat as she pulle
d the trigger.

  There was no sound. But one of the Fae went down with the shot.

  I grinned and thrust my pack at her. “There’s more ammo. Keep going,” I said, and sprinted for the fight.

  The other two wild Fae held Uriskel, and the Redcap was going for a bite. Remembering Sadie had said to aim for his cap the last time, I grabbed the little bastard by the arm and tore his hat off before he noticed me. It came away hard, smearing blood all over my hand.

  But the bald head beneath was undamaged. It wasn’t his blood.

  With a hellish shriek, the Redcap wrenched from my grip and lunged at me. I sidestepped, held the bloodsoaked cap over my head—and caught sight of the Fae who’d been shot charging me from the other direction.

  I gestured at him. “Céa biahn.”

  The voice that came out of me was hollow and deep. I recognized the booming tone with a nasty start. The one I’d used the first time I accidentally called on magic against the Valentine brothers…and again when I’d removed my humanity with a drug and went full, cold-blooded Fae.

  This time I didn’t have a drug to blame.

  The charging Fae flew through the air and smashed hard against a tree. At the same time, intense pain surged through my leg.

  I glanced down to find the Redcap gnawing on my shin like a chicken bone.

  “Destroy it!” Uriskel called as he elbowed one of the wild ones in the face. There was a crunch that could’ve been the Fae’s nose breaking—or my leg. “The cap! Destroy it…it’s the only way to stop him.”

  I could do that.

  I clenched the bloody fabric tight, and the word I wanted rose instantly to my tongue. “Saaruhtán.”

  The cap burst into flames.

  I jerked my leg back with a snarl of pain, and the Redcap fell writhing to the ground. With faint horror, I watched his skin shrivel and draw tight, until it was stretched across the outline of his bones. His vast mouth opened in a silent scream as his eyes sizzled in their sockets and left blackened holes.

  Nowhere near what I expected to happen.

  “Gideon!”

  At Uriskel’s shout, I spun and ran for him at a shambling lurch, my mangled leg threatening to buckle every time it touched ground. The two he’d been fighting had him flat on the ground. I grabbed one and pulled him off, and Uriskel immediately flipped the second one and pinned him. “Kill the bastard,” he snarled.

  A deep part of me ached to do just that. And it terrified me.

  The wild Fae ran off a few feet and turned to face me with a cold grin. I pulled the dagger, knowing he’d rush me—and he did. But my lunge missed.

  His didn’t. Thorny nails raked my chest, tearing the tunic and drawing blood.

  I slashed at him and caught his arm. With an angry howl, he barreled into me and knocked me to the ground. Strong fingers grabbed my wrist, twisted sharply. The knife fell from my hand.

  Damn it, that was my disarming trick.

  And before I could buck him off, he rammed a knee into my groin.

  Agony exploded white behind my eyes. It was slow to fade, and for a few seconds I failed to understand why I couldn’t breathe—until I felt pressure on my throat, and realized he was choking me.

  Coughing and struggling, I held an arm out in the direction I’d dropped the dagger and rasped the word the Unseelie soldier at the Castle had used to get his weapon back. “Tuariis’caen.”

  The hilt slapped against my palm. I gripped it hard and drove the blade into the wild one’s chest.

  His grip loosened, and I rolled him over and straddled him. Pure rage flooded my veins. He’d been ready to kill my friends and deliver me to the Unseelie Queen.

  I needed him dead. It was the only way to stop him.

  And I knew how to do it.

  With both hands wrapped around the dagger, I plunged the blade deeper and wrenched upward, through muscle and bone. The wild Fae screamed as blood poured from his mouth. Another hard thrust, and blue-white light crackled from his chest like lightning.

  I’d cut the spark from his heart.

  I barely realized that the wrenching cry as I yanked the blade free came from my own lips. The wild one shuddered once, and stilled forever.

  Breathing harshly, I bowed my head over him and spoke the words I’d heard once from Reun—a prayer for the dead. “Is féider leis an éirí an bóthar leat.”

  May the road rise to meet you.

  “Stop him! They cannot report back to the Unseelie Court!”

  Uriskel’s voice seemed distant and weak. I forced myself to look, and saw one of the wild ones running away fast, despite being riddled with bullets.

  I lurched to my feet and staggered toward him, holding a blood-streaked arm out, not sure what I meant to do until I spoke the spell. “Mahrú à dionadth!”

  The shield crushed him against a nearby boulder, leaving him broken and bloodied. But not dead. He twitched feebly beneath the shimmering air, struggling in vain to free himself.

  Something in me withered.

  A hand clapped my shoulder. “Well done, DeathSpeaker.” Uriskel, gasping for breath. “Now, finish him off.”

  I shivered and managed to look at him. “I can’t.”

  His lip curled in a snarl. But as he stared at me, his features softened and he nodded once. “I’ll do it, then,” he said almost kindly. “Go and see to the girl.”

  I wanted to thank him. But all I could do was turn away, so I wouldn’t have to watch.

  CHAPTER 25

  Sadie was mostly unhurt. The Fae she’d shot only came after her once, and she’d split a knuckle punching him in the jaw. Then she shot him a lot more, and he apparently decided he didn’t like bullets—which was when he’d come after me.

  And eventually I’d done something much worse to him.

  “Let me heal that,” I said, taking her hand carefully.

  She gave a weak laugh. “Maybe you’d better save it for yourself. You look like hell.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  The corners of her mouth twitched. “You know, you really sound like—”

  “A Fae?” I snapped.

  She shivered a sigh and looked at the ground.

  I hadn’t meant to sound so angry. But if I tried to talk about it right now, I’d only make it worse. So I focused on healing her knuckle instead. Taeral had already taught me how to heal, and it was even easier now that the magic responded so quickly.

  Still, I could feel my spark ebbing. I’d drained a lot of it during the fight, and even with the intense Arcadian moon, it would take time to recharge.

  “Thank you,” Sadie murmured when I lowered her hand.

  I heaved a breath and looked at her. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I just…really didn’t want to do that. After what happened on the mountain…”

  “And what might that be?”

  Uriskel had come up beside us. His cheek was split open and bleeding freely, his shirt half torn off, and the skin of his exposed arm and part of his chest had been shredded liberally—by the wild ones’ claws, I assumed. If I looked like hell, he was right there with me.

  I didn’t want to ask, but I had to. “Is he…”

  “Aye.” He grimaced and spat out a mouthful of blood. “Now, you were saying something about a mountain?”

  “No. I wasn’t.” I turned away and limped toward the nearest tree. If I didn’t sit down soon, my leg was going to drop me where I stood. I figured with the mood I was in, they’d probably leave me alone—we’d rest so Uriskel and I could heal up some, and then get moving again.

  Apparently I’d figured wrong, because Uriskel followed me.

  I leaned against the tree and slid gingerly to the ground. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I said without looking at him.

  He crouched in front of me. “Well, then. I’ll talk about it for you.”

  “What, are you psychic now?”

  “This mountain,” he went on like I hadn’t said anything. “You killed many there, but the taste of bloo
d was not to your liking. And so you vowed you’d not kill again.”

  My jaw clenched. “Sadie told you. Right?”

  “No, she did not. I know this because I’ve been to the place I saw in your eyes, just now. That place of shame and self-loathing no amount of platitudes can ease.”

  I shuddered and closed my eyes. “You have no idea what I did.”

  “Don’t I?” he said.

  “I slaughtered people!” Now I did look at him as the rage bubbled to the surface. “I didn’t just kill them. I murdered them, messy and bloody, sometimes more than one at a time. They weren’t even Other. Just humans. And do you know why?” I spat. “Because they were insects. Insects with guns and clubs and Tasers and mandrake oil, and I crushed them. Because I could.”

  Uriskel raised an eyebrow. “Are you finished?”

  “Yeah. Are you?”

  “No.” He looked hard at me. “I could tell you tales that would make your blood run cold. If you knew all that I’ve done, you’d find yourself a saint by comparison. But I’ll not do that—and it is not because I’m in the least concerned what you think of me.”

  I had to admit, he probably wasn’t. He’d practically gloated about what a horrible bastard he was when Taeral called him on it. “All right,” I said. “Why, then?”

  “Because what you feel is right,” he said. “You should feel it. Without that remorse, you’re no better than the monsters you fight. Those who seek to destroy you and the ones close to you—they feel nothing.”

  “So I’m better than them,” I muttered. “Good for me.”

  “Aye. You are.” He waited until I looked at him. “The warrior carves his guilt upon his heart, and he bears those scars proudly. For it is pain that drives him to action, and remorse that allows him to take lives when he’s called to do so. It is his curse, but also his blessing.”

  “Or hers.”

  This time I didn’t jump when Sadie spoke nearby. Uriskel tilted his head to look at her, and smiled. “Indeed. Hers as well,” he said.

  “Guess I’m outnumbered,” I said with a smirk. “Okay, I’ll try to remember that. And…thank you, Uriskel.”

  He nodded and rose unsteadily. “Now, we’ve much more to do,” he said. “If you—”