Chapter 15
“Even her eyes are back to normal,” Keva says.
“We noted,” Nibs mutters.
“No, you don’t understand. Ever since we got here, her eyes have been dark, and now…” Keva sighs mournfully. “Golden eyes would suit me so much better, though. It’s not fair.”
“Maybe it’s because we’re so close to the exit,” Nibs says, still sounding stunned, “what with the barrier bein’ somewhat breached and all.”
Still confused myself, I slowly sit up and run my fingers through my bloodied hair, ash and feathers falling from it in dirty clumps. I test my body, stretching it out luxuriously, reveling in its miraculous healing. And all without having to absorb the ogham Kaede gave me!
Laughter bubbles out of me. “Here,” I tell the knight, tossing her the large jewel back.
Kaede snatches the stone out of the air, her dark eyes never leaving my face, as if searching for an answer. Then, with a shrug, she pockets the ogham and jumps onto the harpy’s remains.
“There’s no need to—” Nibs starts.
He gulps as the knight points her sword at him. “You stay out of my business, clurichaun,” she growls, “and I’ll stay out of yours.”
And without waiting for an answer, she cuts the carcass open, carving it like it’s some giant turkey, before jumping inside the bird-woman’s thoracic cage.
“That’s just foul,” Keva says, covering her nose at the stench that emanates from the carcass.
My laughter redoubles at the stupid pun, causing the banshee to fuss about me in worry.
“Relax,” I say, patting her hunched shoulder, “I’m fine.”
“OK, OK,” Nibs whines. “We’re all glad to be alive, kisses all ‘round, brilliant. Now will you please get yer asses movin’ before we get attacked again?”
“There’s more of them?” Keva asks.
“Of course, darlin’,” Nibs says in his nasally voice, “not everyone’s a unique little butterfly like ya.”
With a satisfied grunt, Kaede pulls herself back out of the harpy’s sternum, gore covering her from head to foot, a bloody ogham the size of an apple clutched in her hand. And looking disgustingly pleased with herself.
“We can go now,” Kaede says, shaking the worst of the gunk off her like a she-wolf, before climbing the rest of the way up and disappearing inside the cavern.
“I’m so not going behind her,” Keva mutters as the rest of us file after her. “I’d faint from the smell.”
“You can go in after me,” I suggest as Gale disappears inside the low-ceilinged tunnel.
Keva snorts. “And rely on you if I fall? Don’t think so.” She cuts me off, rushing inside. “Sir Gale, wait for me!”
I chuckle, wondering how Keva’s managed to remain the same despite everything we’ve gone through. “Thanks for taking us this far,” I say, looking over at Nibs.
But my eyes fall upon some markings carved along the bottom of the cave’s entrance, and I pause, dread seeping into me. The etchings are pale, faded with time, but I have no trouble recognizing the symbol.
“Lucifer’s sigil,” I whisper.
“Good, yer learnin’,” Nibs says, spitting a large gob of phlegm on the ground. “Now step on it. Remember that your friends there won’t make it unless yer there with them.”
“Because of that?”
Nibs nods. “Though Mordred himself’s never tried it, it’s been speculated that’s how Lucifer high-tailed it out of here so easily. Which means her heirs should be able to as well.”
My gut clenches at the idea, and I have to force myself to breathe. That would possibly be the only good thing to come of my parentage. If it works. “Are you saying that our freedom hangs on a stupid theory?”
“It’s the best I have to offer,” Nibs says. “So either ya go along and test it out, or ya can rot away down here. Your choice.”
“That’s not a choice!” I exclaim, making the banshee jump.
“It’s all ya’ve got, princess.” He pulls the bloodied cloth from his pocket, now turned grey. “But if it makes ya feel any better,” Nibs continues, handing me the piece of cloth with the sigil drawn on it, “know that it’s his hoity-toitiness who came up with the plan.”
“His hoit—” I start in confusion.
He can’t mean Mordred. My brother wouldn’t have bothered with this bloodied handkerchief to convey his message when he could have told me so directly. But then, who?
The image of the black, one-eyed cat flashes in my mind, quickly followed by that of a brooding face, all high cheekbones, aquiline nose, and full lips. “You mean Lugh?”
“Bingo,” Nibs says, casting a weary look around.
Keva’s shrill voice echoes down from the cavern before I can say a thing. “Morgan! We need you here!”
I swallow hard. The time for doubts is over. “All right, then,” I say, exhaling sharply. “Are you sure you can’t come with us?” I ask.
“Dead certain.”
I look down at Nibs’s ravaged face, feeling guilty. “If we make it out,” I tell him, “I’ll find your ogham and give it back to you.”
Nibs hisses in shock. “Be careful when pledgin’ an oath. Breakin’ one is anathema, and could result in yer very own demise.”
“Trust me,” I say, smiling as his mouth gapes wide, “just as I’m trusting you with this.”
Squaring my shoulders, I finally step inside the cave, pausing only long enough to let my eyes adjust to the darkness.
“Go find Caim in jail!” Nibs shouts as I hurry up to join the others, the banshee a half-step behind. “If anyone knows Carman’s weakness, it’s him.”
◆◆◆
Down, down we go, the darkness so deep I can’t see the others in front of me nor the banshee behind. We move slowly through the narrow tunnel, our progress punctuated by grunts and heavy breathing, giving me way too much time to spin a thousand death and doom scenarios in my head: The tunnel caving in, my tainted blood not working so we’re all shredded to bits when we try to cross into Avalon, Dark Sidhe waiting for our arrival to enslave us again, Carman’s dragon burning us down before we can warn anyone of her plans…
Keva lets out a surprised bleat, and I pull away from my dark thoughts as my center of gravity suddenly shifts. I slam my arms out against the tunnel’s rough walls before I can fall face first down the hole, feel the banshee do the same behind me.
“You’re good,” I hear Gale tell Keva, “I’ve got you.”
“W-What happened?” I ask, disoriented.
Up isn’t up anymore, but down. Am I supposed to backtrack? Keep climbing down? Or change tracks instead? I wipe the sweat off my forehead on my shoulder, afraid to make the wrong decision.
“Here, mistresssss,” the banshee hisses behind me, which is now ahead.
“O-OK,” I say.
The jagged edges of the rock walls scraping roughly against my hands and feet, I carefully turn around to follow the banshee back the other way. I take another shuddering breath, then, after making sure everyone else is safe too, we resume our slow progress.
“We’re close,” Kaede says after a long while, her clipped voice floating up from the tunnel shaft.
I peer around the banshee’s cowled figure, and my heart skips a beat at the soft light filtering down to us through a small, circular hole, suffusing our cramped tunnel with an eerie blue glow. I pause, tension working its way to my shoulders and calves, making my muscles bunch in painful cramps. But not as painful as being torn to pieces if Nibs and Lugh are wrong about this.
“Why are we stopping?” Keva asks, sounding exhausted.
“Because it’s dangerous,” Gale says, sounding as tense as I feel.
“Well, not moving from here isn’t going to accomplish much either!” Keva snaps.
“Right,” I say, forcing myself to start moving again. “Just…don’t follow until I’m out. You never know…”
With the banshee’s help, I manage to climb the last few meter
s separating us from the exit, and pause only when the tunnel’s mouth is within reach.
Beyond it, I glimpse the rafters’ wooden beams and caved-in ceiling, bright stars twinkling down benevolently at us from above. I prick up my ears apprehensively, but apart from the soughing of the wind, I cannot hear anything ahead. I hope it means Mordred’s crumbling fort has truly been abandoned.
“Well, here goes,” I murmur, squeezing around the banshee and reaching up.
My scraped fingers find purchase around the hole’s edge, and I pause expectantly. Nothing. I expel a relieved breath and start pulling myself out.
There’s a sudden flash of red, and I nearly let go. But the banshee’s strong hand shoves me the rest of the way up, and then I’m through.
“We’re out!” I exclaim, as the banshee rolls in after me with another red flash. All in one piece.
I laugh, feeling winter’s cold touch dry my damp face. It’s the type of weather to freeze one’s balls off, and I love it! I breathe in the crispy air, relishing the way it burns down my lungs.
Freedom has never tasted so wonderful, and I’m going to make damn sure Hell’s foulness never tarnishes it.
“Morgan?” Keva calls out, sounding on the verge of panic.
I crawl back to the hole’s edge, grinning widely. “Coast is clear!” I shout down.
Keva’s face appears next, a worried frown creasing her pale brow. “How sure are you about this?” she asks through cracked lips.
“Not at all,” I say, reaching for her, “but the banshee got out just fine.”
The old sigil painted on the side of the tunnel’s entrance flashes harmlessly as I pull Keva up to safety, and she tumbles into me. For a long moment, we hang onto each other, shaking, unable to fathom the fact that we’re both free at last, and in one piece.
Finally, Keva rolls away from me. “The others,” she whispers.
With a nod, I return to the tunnel’s edge, praying that whatever luck I’ve had thus far doesn’t suddenly run out. But as I reach down, Gale pulls back.
“Stop,” he says.
Sweat drips down my nose, sizzling as it hits the net drawn tightly over the exit, the red threads no longer letting anything through.
“No, no, no, no,” I say, punching the side of the hole in desperation. This can’t be happening. I need to get Gale and Kaede out! I need to—
“It’s all right, no need to panic,” Gale says soothingly. “Let’s think about this for a moment. You got the others out, so you can do it again. The key is figuring out what’s changed since then.”
“I don’t…I don’t know,” I say, choking back a sob.
Then the banshee’s at my side, and her skeletal hand gently grabs mine. Her cowled face turns to me as she places her obsidian knife over the palm of my hand, and though I cannot see her face, I know she’s asking for my permission. Releasing a shaky breath, I nod.
The blade slides across my flesh, black against black, and blood pools in my hand, before spilling over. And when it hits the net, the light flickers out, harmless once again.
“Now,” Gale says.
Without another hesitation, I pull both knights to safety, arms shaking from the strain, fingers slick with blood.
“Thanks,” Gale says, patting my shoulder. “You did well.”
Only then do I finally release my breath, and sag against the wall, feeling wrung out.
“I can’t believe we’re not dead,” Keva says in the silence that follows. She’s lying on her back in the middle of the room, staring up at the starry sky.
“Neither can I,” I say, staring at my hands in wonder, heart still beating frantically against my ribs. The cut is already healing, Hell’s corrupting influence on me no longer in effect.
“I can’t believe we could’ve left anytime we wanted,” Keva adds, and I hear the anger in her tone.
“Carman wouldn’t have let Morgan go,” Gale says, “and you know it.”
A strange, scurrying sound from the other side of the wall punctuates his words, and Kaede’s twin swords come out of their sheaths with a soft hiss.
“Seems we were expected,” Gale says.
Despite our exhaustion, we all jump to our feet, senses alert. But as excited grunts erupt from the hallway leading to the front door, I take an unsteady step forward.
“Wait,” I tell the others, holding my hand up. “I recognize that sound…”
And a second later, Puck’s chubby form appears from around the corner, running as fast as his little hooves can carry him. At my sight, the hobgoblin snorts in joy, and, holding his chubby arms out, throws himself at my legs to hug me with all his might.
“Hello, you silly boy,” I say, picking the hobgoblin up before he can slobber all over my bare feet. “How did you get all the way over here?”
“Ugh, keep that thing away from me,” Keva says, quickly moving away. “I’m already filthy enough as it is, I don’t need to smell like old cheese on top of it.”
I let out a delighted laugh as Puck grabs something from my jacket and starts munching on it.
“What have you got there?” I say, trying to pull the piece of paper from his grubby hands without tearing it apart.
But when I see what’s on it, I freeze. Smiling shily back at me across the span of half a decade is fifteen-year-old me.
“A picture?” Keva says, curiosity overcoming her disgust for Puck to take a look at what I’m holding. “Were you carrying it on you this whole time? Did you think you’d be signing autographs?”
“It wasn’t in my pockets,” I say, stunned.
I let Keva pluck the picture from my numb fingers, remembering very well the day I decided to send it, along with a Christmas card, to the one I’d once called mom. Another letter that went unanswered, another tender hope of spending the holidays with my family crushed. Funny how close innocence is to sheer stupidity.
But it still doesn’t explain why the picture’s here.
“Maybe it was in the lining, then,” Keva says, giggling at my school portrait. “Some knights used to keep pics of their girlfriends like that, instead of the traditional Lady’s favor.” Her smile widens. “And if I recall correctly, that jacket you’re wearing is—”
“Mine,” a deep voice says.
I nearly drop Puck as a shadow detaches itself from the collapsed wall and slinks into view, moonlight glinting off the iron-threaded uniform.
Although taller and broader in the shoulders, he looks thinner now, his hair no longer well-combed, and his clothes shows the wear and tear of many a battle. But the shy smile and the glint of his hazel eyes as he looks at me haven’t changed.
I find myself holding my breath as he prowls forward, the hilt of a massive broadsword sticking up from behind his dirty blond head like a large cross.
I barely feel my lips move as I whisper his name.
“Arthur.”
Chapter 16
My muscles have locked into place. I can’t move an inch. I’ve dreamed of this moment and dreaded it at the same time for so long. A thousand excuses try to push their way past my clenched teeth, but what do you say to the one you tried to kill, or thinks you did?
Then Arthur’s arms are around me, gently cradling my head against his shoulder, and it feels like the whole world has stopped spinning.
“You’re back,” he whispers, his shaky breath tickling my ear. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
My throat’s too tight. My mind’s a mess. He should be screaming at me, fighting me, not…this.
With an annoyed grunt, Puck wriggles out of my arms, forcing Arthur to pull away. I stand motionless as he looks at my face, as if he, too, can’t believe any of this is real. This close, I notice more changes on him—a fuzzy beard has started to grow over his once smooth cheeks, barely covering a new series of pink scars. Even his eyes, which I thought had remained their gorgeous hazel selves, seem more luminous, the green-brown of their irises now flecked with ochre.
“How did you find
us?” Kaede asks, ignoring Keva’s furious elbowing.
Her harsh voice is enough to break the spell. Feeling suddenly shy, I try to step further away from Arthur, but his hold on my arms only tightens.
“We couldn’t track you through the geas,” he says, never looking away from me, “not since we lost the school. And knowing Carman had pushed you through the Gates…” His voice cracks. He cups my cheek with his calloused hand. “We were able to get a report from Nibs during one of his rare outings. He’s the one who told us of this place, and Lugh then sent his cat through the portal to send the message. We didn’t know if it would work, but…”
Something inside me shifts, releasing its hold over my chest, and turning my legs to mush.
“Morgan!” Arthur shouts, catching me.
I giggle at his concern. I haven’t felt this light in ages, not even when that strange power healed me after the harpies’ attack. My heart is soaring, and it feels like I could too, right through the hole in the collapsed ceiling.
“What’s the matter?” Arthur asks. “Are you hurt?”
“She’s fine,” Keva says, “just absolutely disgusting. Any chance we could go home and get a shower?”
I giggle louder. “I want a bath with lots of bubbles!” I say.
“Ease her down,” a smooth, chocolaty voice says.
Lugh’s found his way inside the fort. Should’ve figured he’d be here too, this being his plan and all.
“She has been cut off from her power source for too long,” Lugh continues, his one golden eye assessing, “and the sudden reconnection must have shocked her system.”
“I like your patch,” I tell him, cooing. “Makes you look like a cuddly pirate.”
“So she’s drunk?” Arthur asks.
“In a way, yes,” Lugh says.
“I didn’t know it would make her glow,” Arthur says.
“Just like what happened in Hell,” Keva murmurs.
Lazily, I hook my arm around Arthur’s neck for support, and his cheeks turn flaming red. I laugh at his reaction. How did I never notice how cute he is? Or was it I never dared admit it to myself?
Curse of the Fey: A Modern Arthurian Legend (Morgana Trilogy Book 3) Page 12