by E. A. Copen
“I was wondering who they would send,” he said, pacing to stand in front of the cross. “I’m not surprised they’d send you, only that you’re well enough to stand. You’ve made a rather swift recovery, Judah Black.”
I shifted the sword. “I had help.”
“So did I, before your help gunned them down in cold blood.” Warren stepped down off the dais. “You’re no hero. You’re a murderer just like me.”
I stopped halfway to the front of the church. There was no room to cross here except over two rickety-looking boards. It wasn’t a far fall into the church’s foundation, but it’d be a good way to break my ankle if I wasn’t careful.
“You’ve come to kill me.” He spread his arms wide. “It’s poetic, isn’t it? They created me, both of us. They put this thing in my head, gave me these powers.” He looked down at his hands. “What was I supposed to do with them? Grow plants? Raise followers to protect those plants?” He swept an arm wide. “I was meant for more than life as a simple farmer! I am a god among men, and they have sent an ant to silence me.”
Creven stopped behind me and planted his staff. “We can make it painless and quick, but only if you don’t fight.”
Warren raised an eyebrow. “Oh? You would be so generous?”
“He would,” Abe said, “but I will not. You do not get to go easy after causing so much pain and suffering.”
“My hands are clean,” Warren sneered. “It was Hector who killed your friend, the priest. If the priest hadn’t interfered, he would still live. And the girl… Mira, she was your fault, Judah. You forced my hand!”
My hands tightened around the sword. “Mara. Her name was Mara!”
Warren smiled, clearly unmoved. “I have no intention of dying today.” His eyes shifted to something behind me. “Kill them.”
I turned, swinging the sword as I did, but I was too clumsy with it. It was a good thing, too, because it was Ed who was behind me.
Ed.
Warren had gotten to Ed.
Panic rose in my throat as he dodged my swing with ease before grabbing my arm and twisting it until I dropped the sword. I reached for my magick, pumping it into my muscles when I drew back to punch him in the face.
Abe had drawn his hand back like claws and readied a killing blow.
“No,” I choked out. “He’s controlling him!”
Abe paused and, in that moment Amanda, Hector’s wife and Warren’s mother, appeared behind him, a bat in her hand. She swung it and it struck him in the head with a resounding crack.
Creven moved, swinging his staff to strike at Amanda, but something in the air changed. It thickened and, suddenly, it felt like we were all struggling underwater. The smell of wet earth and the crack of magick tore through the room as a loud voice boomed, “Enough!”
My arm froze where it was, unable to move. The same magick that held me, kept Creven, Amanda, Abe, and Hector where they were. I shook with the need to move, fighting the magick, but it was too strong. I couldn’t even blink.
Footsteps stomped across the raised dais. The narrow boards over the open floor creaked. In the corner of my eye, I saw a figure bend over and take up the sword. My anger flared when I recognized that polished silver armor. Seamus.
He held the sword upright, staring at his reflection in the polished blade before he lowered it and snarled, “Let them go. The bargain is complete.”
The spell released me and I almost tumbled forward. I used the momentum to fall to my knees beside Abe and check him. He swatted me away but put a hand to his bleeding head.
“Bargain?” Warren snarled up on the dais. “The bargain was I get you the sword and you get me out of here!”
Seamus turned on Warren, a bored expression on his face. “I believe the exact words of our agreement were that I would provide you with an escape.” Seamus turned and smiled a wicked smile at me. “There it is. You need only put them down and walk through the door to your freedom.”
Warren looked at me, then back at Seamus, licking his lips. I knew that look. He was deciding whether Seamus had cheated him or not and if it was worth the confrontation.
“I see how it is,” I said, stumbling forward. “You used us, all of us, to get that stupid sword. Warren takes the fall for all of it and your hands are clean.”
“It could have been different,” Seamus said, shrugging. “You turned down my offer. I warned you there would be consequences.”
I turned my attention to Warren. “No matter where you run, they’ll find you. You know that. What kind of god lives his life on the run from a government?”
Warren slowly turned his head to glare at Seamus.
Seamus sighed and shifted the sword. “Think this over, Warren. Think about who I am. Do you really want to fight me?”
“Yes!” Warren screamed and dove forward. He latched onto the side of Seamus’ head, just as he’d done to me and… nothing.
Nothing happened.
The sword moved so fast I didn’t see it. One minute, Warren’s fingers were digging into Seamus’ temples. The next, his arm was on the floor and he was bleeding everywhere. Warren screamed and stumbled back, desperately holding the stump of his arm.
“I did try to warn him,” Seamus said.
An enraged scream cut through the room. All eyes turned to Amanda who stood, breathing heavy, staring at her hands. She raised her wild eyes and focused on Seamus.
Amanda screamed again and took off running. She jumped on Seamus’ back, throwing him off-balance. When she wrapped her hands around his throat from behind, he was faced with the choice to either drop the sword or let her strangle him. Even Faerie Kings need to breathe.
I seized the opportunity and rushed forward to take the sword back up again, but Warren kicked it out of reach when he stumbled on it. He fell, slamming his back into the wall.
Seamus finally ripped Amanda off him and tossed her against the wall next to Warren. The impact was hard enough it rattled the cross that hung there. Amanda’s head slumped forward and she lay still.
Seamus stumbled forward and fell, his arm outstretched, reaching for the sword which waited just out of reach.
I got there first.
I picked up the sword and stomped on his hand. He cried out as the bones cracked, but I ground my shoe in harder. He shook as he raised his head to look at me. “You’re going to regret that,” he spat at me.
Creven’s staff came down hard on the back of Seamus’ head, followed by a baseball bat that flew across the room. I turned and saw Abe struggling with Ed, doing his best to keep the werewolf off of him without hurting him. Ed had his claws in Abe’s gut, his eyes glowing brilliant gold, but Abe had still managed to throw the bat. Abe swung a fist and made contact with the side of Ed’s face, freeing himself.
I turned back to Seamus. The double tap put him down, but not out. Seamus groaned and rolled his head back and forth.
“Quick,” Creven urged. “Finish this while he’s out.”
I raised the sword, ready to put it through Warren, but hesitated as he cried out to his God. His head fell forward and his shoulders shook as he began to weep. “God, why? Why have you turned your back on me?”
“It’s you who turned your back on Him, Warren. You can’t claim to be God and then ask for him to save you!”
Warren’s shoulders stopped shaking. He lifted his head. “Do you think… after all I’ve done…?” His chin shook and then he set his jaw to stop it. “No, I don’t want forgiveness. I want to live!”
Warren made a grab for the sword.
I reacted out of instinct, throwing a magick-laced punch that struck Warren in the face. He flew back, slamming into the wall hard enough to send a crack racing up the rotten wood behind him.
This time, the heavy cross came loose from the rotten wall. It tumbled down and landed on both Warren and Amanda. Hard. The wood and iron fell on them with a loud crunch of bone and a wet smack. Warren’s limbs twitched, but he made no further movement. Blood poured out from where h
is head would have been under the weight of the cross.
Amanda let out a loud and desperate cry of pain. It had fallen over her middle, just below the rib cage. Creven and I ran to the cross and tried to move it, but the iron was too much for Creven. He hissed and pulled his hands away, steaming. “I’m of no use here, lass.”
“Abe!” I shouted. He sat opposite Ed on the floor, both with their hands loosely around each other’s necks, a dazed look on their faces.
I grunted with effort, trying to lift it, but the cross was too heavy. I couldn’t budge it. “A little help!”
Creven nodded. “I’ll get them.” He started to move toward the doors, but scrambled to a stop when Seamus loomed in front of him.
Seamus glared down at Creven, gold eyes firm and uncaring. Blood raced down from a cut on Seamus’ forehead. “I’ll have the sword. Now.”
“You’ll back away now,” Creven said in response, readying his staff.
Seamus’ mouth turned up in a smirk. “You of all people should know better than to challenge me, Creven.”
Amanda coughed up blood and her fingers tightened on mine. “Please, I don’t want to die. Not with him.”
“I need help now!” I shouted. “She’s dying!”
“She’s of no consequence to me,” said Seamus with a shrug. “I am here for the sword and make no mistake, I am taking it with me.”
“Even if she were t’give it to ya, I’d still stand in yer way.” Creven lowered his head.
I put all my effort and magick into moving the cross, but still it wouldn’t budge. Even with all my power, I couldn’t lift something that heavy. “Claíomh Solais will never be yours,” Creven said. “I’ll die before I let it go with you.”
Seamus let out a deep laugh. “I dare you to stop me.”
Creven shifted his staff half an inch, maybe only a quarter. Seamus lifted a single finger and Creven, the strongest and most skilled practitioner I knew, went flying back, helpless. He slammed into the wall and then through it into the tiny graveyard behind the church. Creven rolled to a stop and struck the back of his head against a headstone. He groaned once before his head fell forward, limp.
Seamus smiled, made a satisfied noise and turned to me, hand outstretched. “Now, the sword if you please.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
The sanctuary stilled. Even the dust floating in the dying light seemed to freeze. I held my breath. There was no way I was giving Seamus the Sword of Light. I’d promised Reed I’d keep it safe, and I don’t break my word.
I lifted my chin. “You can’t hurt me. Not for three more months. You’d be violating your word.”
Seamus’ hand drifted back to his side. His eyes gleamed a brighter gold, but maybe that was just the dying sunset reflecting through the window. “I don’t have to hurt you to get what I want.”
His head snapped to the side and he threw a hand out toward Ed. Ed’s body jerked forward and he bent over with an agonizing sound.
“He came to avenge his lost love,” Seamus said as he lifted Ed with unseen power. “A noble cause. He even had some of that marvelous dust with him that should have protected him against Warren’s power. But Warren found him first. Sad, isn’t it?”
Ed’s cheeks puffed outward a moment before blood exploded out of his mouth. Seamus dropped him and he went to his knees and clutched his stomach, crying out in pain.
Seamus made a fist and Ed bent over again, vomiting more blood.
“Let him go!” I shouted and rushed forward. Green flame raced down the blade. I swung it at Seamus’ unprotected head with a loud grunt.
Seamus put a hand up and caught the blade with his bare hand. I threw all my weight behind it, but the sword wouldn’t cut through. All I managed was to slice into his skin. Seamus grimaced and his eyes gleamed even brighter as his blood dripped down the blade. “You got lucky before. Don’t expect to strike me again. You should know better than to use a fae blade against a Lord of Faerie!”
In the front of the church, a shotgun clicked and fired. Seamus extended his other hand toward Abe and the buckshot froze in the air, trembling a moment before falling harmlessly to the floor. Abe lowered his gun, eyes wide and jaw slack.
Seamus’ fingers tightened around the blade. I thought he was trying to pull it away from me, so I pulled back. Instead, he used the momentum and his magick to redirect the sword. It flew out of my hands at the speed of a fired bullet and straight for Abe.
I blinked and, the next thing I knew, Abe had been skewered through the lower abdomen with the sword, a sword now covered in poisonous fae blood. A sword that inflicted injuries Abe couldn’t heal.
Abe looked down at the blade sticking out of his stomach, reached to pull it out and then crumbled to the ground.
Unarmed, I was still far from helpless. I drew my hands into fists and threw a hard, magick-backed right hook at Seamus. He ducked it, but only barely. When he bobbed up, he swept a foot against my ankle and sent me falling forward. I caught myself and turned, expecting him to attack again, but he didn’t. Seamus just stood there while Abe died of poison, Creven lay unconscious, and Ed continually vomited blood.
“My patience is growing thin and you are running out of friends,” Seamus said in a calm voice. “Give the sword to me.”
I pushed off the ground to stand. “If you want it so bad, why don’t you just take it?”
“Because it won’t obey me!” Seamus hissed. “The sword only heeds its master’s call. Give it to me and surrender your ownership.” He pointed a finger at Ed, who screamed and convulsed. “Once I run out of people here, Judah, I’ll have to go to your home. I’d hate to harm your children, but if I must, I will.”
I turned my head and focused on the sword still sticking out of Abe. Seamus would do it. I knew he would. He’d kill everyone in Paint Rock if he had to. Keeping the sword away from him wasn’t worth that. Whatever he did with it, at least I would still have the people I loved. Wasn’t that what was important?
“Don’t do it, lass.” I turned and saw Creven standing, bloodied, with one foot on the hole in the wall. “You’ve no idea what kind of damage he can do with that.”
Seamus smirked at Creven. “Yes, but that damage will be in Faerie, not here. What does a human care?”
“Judah cares. She won’t let a monster like you have it.”
My hands shook and I felt panic rising in my throat. All the images Hector had shown me flashed in front of my eyes again. I re-lived holding my dead son in my arms, watching Sal die, watching Mia scream and reach for me, begging to be saved as the life was torn out of her. A tear raced down the side of my nose and I wiped it away. “I can’t, Creven,” I said in a shaky voice. He turned his head toward me slowly. “It’s my family. I can’t.”
Creven’s eyes dimmed. He closed them and turned away a moment before recovering to glare at Seamus. “Then I will.” Magick crackled in the air and Creven hurled his staff at Seamus.
Seamus put an arm up. The staff exploded in midair. A particularly large chunk hurled forward and sliced into Seamus’ face. The fae necromancer stumbled forward, turning back with a growl. “That is the last time you’ll strike me, son.”
“That’s the last time you’ll call me yer son!” Creven shouted and swept his arm in a wide arc. Blue fire erupted in the air. Seamus put up a shield of spinning black magick.
I turned to assess the situation. Ed’s body was pale and still. He lay on the floor in a fetal position, surrounded by blood.
I took a step toward Abe. He wasn’t moving, either, and the pool of blood around him had stopped growing. Was he dead already? How many more would have to die before it was too many?
Blood rushed in my ears. My limbs all felt numb as I marched toward Abe, the battle between Creven and Seamus raging behind me.
Abe’s eyes opened when I stopped beside him. “Judah,” he said weakly, “take it. Leave. Run. Hide the sword. Do not give it to him.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. Behind me, ther
e was a loud crack. I turned and watched as Creven stumbled back, bloodied now from head to toe. He fell to one knee as Seamus closed in on him for the kill.
“I’m sorry,” I said to Abe. “I’m not running. Not this time.”
He grunted when I pulled the sword out of his stomach. It was more effort than I thought it would be and had to leverage myself by putting a foot on Abe’s chest. It came free with a wet sucking sound.
“Seamus!” I screamed.
He halted his advance on Creven and turned toward me, expectant.
I screamed and swung the sword, striking the ground. Black fire sped from the blade at lightning speed across the floor. Powered by me and filtered through the sword, I couldn’t predict the effects, but I hoped I was right. It slammed into Seamus. He fell back, roaring in pain and swatting at the fire. I was right. It wasn’t just the sword that could hurt him, but any magick that came through it. I might not have known how to handle a sword, but I did know about magick.
I swung the sword again, visions of a world on fire flashing through my mind.
And again.
I was blind to where I was swinging, letting the shadow fire guide me. It latched onto my anger at being helpless, the pain at being tortured, the loss. It wasn’t just Seamus who deserved to die. The whole world could burn. What good was it to live in a world with so much pain and suffering? All that waited for me was death.
I squeezed my eyes shut and saw Mia staring up at me, big eyes gold and innocent.
Something in my heart seized.
Mia.
Family.
Hope.
That was worth living for.
I opened my eyes and focused on regaining control over my hands. They shook as the magick raced through me and into the weapon. Flame curled up all around me, searing my skin. Tears raced down my face and then evaporated in the heat. With a loud scream, I pulled my hands away from the sword.