Chapter 39
I launch myself blindly across the room with but one thought in mind: To save Arthur. Eyes never leaving my face, Carman tightens her hold on Arthur a little more, and I freeze midway at the sound of his strangled gasp.
“Don’t you dare,” I growl, power dancing over my skin in angry red sparks.
“Or what?” Carman asks. “You can barely stand yourself.”
I swallow hard. Arthur’s hanging upside down in the air, legs trapped by one of Carman’s thick, putrescent tentacles. With a sickening grin, she cups his face in a mimicry of affection.
“I think we’d both like to hear what you have to say,” Carman says. She catches my horrified look as I watch dark stains bloom on Arthur’s golden cheek, and laughs. “Oh, Morgan. If I’d known you’d be this compliant with this pet at my side, I would have fetched him earlier.”
I bite hard on my lip, tasting blood. Focus, you idiot. You can’t fall into her petty ploy. I quickly scan the room, looking for a way out of this mess. Jennifer’s standing to the side, keeping the banshee and Nibs in check. Lance is slowly picking himself up, his head bloody from a nasty gash over his left eye. And both Urim and Thummim are hovering close to Mordred, watching helplessly as my brother thrashes in the Siege Perilous.
A soft light flickers by the windows, pulsing in rhythm with my breathing, and hope flutters in my chest.
Excalibur.
“I’m surprised you feel you need anything to leverage against me,” I say at last.
For the barest of moments, I lock eyes with the two Dark Sidhe over Carman’s shoulder. It is enough for them to get the message.
“Mordred was right, you are acting less…secure,” I continue. “Are you sure you don’t want to go back into Hell and stay there? Might be a tad safer for you.”
Carman’s lips curl.
Then Urim springs upon her from behind, bladed flail hissing through the air. With the barest of shifts, Carman counters the attack, but I’m already moving, sprinting for the windows. Excalibur flashes in anticipation. Then, as my cold fingers close around the sword’s grip, Urim’s hair-raising shriek cuts across the room.
I whirl around, and bile rises to my throat at the sight of Urim on his knees, weapon abandoned at his side. Blood drips down his hair, scarlet on white, Carman’s hand lodged deep inside his skull. Then, with a sickening squelch, she pulls her hand back out, an onyx gem the size of her fist clutched in her long fingers.
“Give that back!” Thummim shouts.
In that one moment it took me to grab Excalibur, he’s managed to free Mordred. But that moment’s cost us Urim’s life.
Carman’s smile grows wider, until her jaw unhinges completely, lips extending beyond what any normal human could do, to gobble up Urim’s ogham in one piece. Catching my look of horror, Carman tosses her hair back, then slowly licks off the dark blood dripping down her chin.
“You shouldn’t judge, considering you’ve partaken of a similar feast yourself,” she says, her face glowing with stolen power.
I repress a shiver, remembering all too well the feeling of elation I felt once my body absorbed Gadreel’s ogham. And the power that came with it. I let out a slow breath.
“It doesn’t matter how many oghams you steal,” I say, “you’re no match for Balor—either as a partner or as an opponent. You’re nothing to him. Just like you were nothing to your parents. And the reason your own people tried to burn you at the stake.”
I barely have the chance to see Carman’s face contort with fury before her power hits me. I wince against the assault, feeling my shields waver. My grip tightens on Excalibur, but there’s nothing I can do to resist the pummeling as utter and total darkness unfurls around me.
I scream, flesh tearing away from me in large strips. My body hits the ceiling or a wall—I can’t tell which is what anymore—then stays pinned to it as the gale continues to rip me to shreds.
My lungs struggle to expand. I feel my mind slip away, thoughts sluggish. My whole body goes numb, heart stuttering.
Then all at once the pressure is gone, and through my hazy mind I realize that I’m falling.
I land heavily in someone’s strong arms. Arthur?
“Breathe,” Lance whispers in my ears.
I try to open my eyes, but everything hurts too much. The sound of crackling thunder bounces around the KORT room. I clutch at Lance’s mailed shirt, shaking. Wood cracks as it’s hit, burnt splinters exploding out. And, above it all, is the blood-curdling scream of a man.
Fear douses my body in cold sweat, and I manage to force my eyes open. I seek my brother out, and find Mordred’s back on the Siege Perilous, blood pouring down his body from a myriad new cuts, Thummim lying stunned at his feet.
A hand pokes out of the reopened Gates, followed by a strangely flat head, before the grotesque creature’s body clatters to the floor, pushed from behind by another monster. They’re worse than any of the demons I’ve encountered. Worse than I could have imagined.
Another tremor passes through me as I realize what’s happening.
“He’s opening them all,” Lance says.
All the Gates. That means he’s going to free Balor, even if the act is killing him.
Veins pop out on Mordred’s forehead and arms as he grips the Siege Perilous, unable to pull himself free.
“Put me down,” I tell Lance.
Gently, the knight lowers me to my feet. I take an unsteady step, whole body groaning in protest, then another. One of the demons sees me and pounces. Lance’s sword sings as he catches the beast in the face.
“What are you doing?” Lance asks.
Another demon slumps to the floor, throat slit, thick blood gushing onto the flagstones.
“Putting an end to this,” I hiss.
I’ve lost Excalibur again, but no matter. Rage and despair drive me forward as I hone in on Carman. Maybe that’s why I can’t stop when I see her turn towards me, her full lips stretched thin in a rictus of a smile. Why I can’t stop when she raises her hand up in defense. My fist connects with her arm, and I grunt as my bones shatter from the blow.
No matter.
I let my momentum carry me further, whipping my hips around to get another punch in, power gathering in my closed fist.
“Misssstresssss!” the banshee shouts in warning, her cry sounding strangled.
Carman slips away, just out of reach, her dress rushing at me like a giant crow’s wing, cleaving me open from hip to shoulder. My footsteps falter. I slip in my own blood, feel myself tip backwards. I fling my fingers open, and light blooms from my extended palm in a brilliant ray, hitting Carman’s face straight on.
Carman reels back with a bellow, clutching at her face. I roll away from her, feeling lightheaded.
“Mordred!” I yell, crawling on the slippery floor to him as another beast drops down from the Gates. “Close them! Close the—”
A hand twists my arm around viciously. “Enough!” Carman snarls.
Pain rips down my spine as she lifts me high up in the air.
“Look at him,” she continues, breath hot on my ear. “Witness this historic moment when the world you once knew is rent asunder and a new age is born.”
With a warlike chant, Thummim goes to Lance’s help, raging through the growing horde of demons, both of them cutting the creatures down one after another. But always more come. Even together they are no match for all of Hell.
“Any minute now,” Carman coos.
My eyes catch movement along the edges of the Siege Perilous, and I freeze completely in Carman’s hold. The figures carved within the seat’s wood are moving, the winged demons tearing themselves from the armrests to climb onto Mordred’s hands. I stare at the black shapes as they crawl over his blue woads. Mordred snaps his head back in a silent scream, eyes rolling back in his head as one of them bites into his flesh, ripping a large hole in his forearm before diving into the wound.
The Gate hums louder as it suddenly expands to encompass
half the room, cutting our side off from the windows. Through the flickering gap, I see a large swamp of fuming mud, demons wading across it as quickly as they can, growling and fighting each other to get out of Hell first.
“Look at him trying to resist,” Carman says gleefully. “But resistance is futile. He was bound to me the day he was born.”
Something inside me loosens, just like when I faced the chimaera. Carman hisses in surprise as my power burns through her, and clutches at her face in pain, finally releasing me.
I scramble to my feet, already turning to help Mordred out.
“It’s too late,” Carman says, her voice strangely altered.
I glance over my shoulder at her, and nearly miss a step. Her fair skin is now covered in ulcers, pus seeping out from those that burst, as if she’s cooking from the inside.
I grin. “We’ll see,” I say, returning my attention to my brother.
Three lumps are now moving beneath the tattoos of his arms and chest where the carved demons are making their way through. Another sob escapes Mordred’s lips.
“Excalibur, to me,” I growl, without once looking away from the horrid sight.
I feel the sword before it hits the palm of my open hand, blade incandescent in the waning light of day. But before I can cut the nasty little things out of Mordred, a demon launches herself at me. I instinctively drop to a knee, and the throbbing metal slides easily into the creature’s narrow chest. It lets out a shocked hiccup before tipping over as I pull Excalibur back out.
I dodge an extended paw, cut a second demon’s outstretched leg, feel claws graze my shoulder. A hand grips my ankle, yanking me up before slamming me into the floor. My head cracks upon the flagstone. Blood fills my mouth. I blink slowly, dazed. A snout appears above my head, foam dripping down yellow fangs.
I hear Carman’s gleeful laughter over the ringing in my ears. “Finish her,” she commands.
I try to summon my strength again, but my body isn’t responding as it should. Then the demon pauses mid-strike, nostrils flaring. I blink uncomprehendingly at the long metal tongue sticking out of the demon’s mouth before it retracts again.
“Close one, huh?” Lance asks, offering me his gloved hand.
“How bad are you hurt?” Arthur asks hoarsely, hobbling over.
My throat convulses at the sight of him, and I mentally thank whoever managed to free him from Carman’s clutches.
“Alive, you?” I choke back, eyes automatically traveling to the deep stains around his neck.
“Not quite dead yet,” he replies.
He picks Excalibur up, and the sword pulses with life.
“Mordred…,” I start, knowing what must be done to stop him from freeing Balor.
Arthur nods. “Cover me,” he says.
“Algiz!” Lance shouts.
A wall of purple air shimmers in front of us, and dark-green phlegm hits the elemental shield with a loud hiss. Calling on my own power, I push back another two demons, and Arthur uses the opportunity to slip forward, Lance on his other flank.
“Open the seventh Gate, Mordred,” Carman orders with barely veiled glee.
“Mordred don’t!” I shout.
Something heavy slams into me from behind, bringing me down to a knee. I slam my elbow back, feeling it connect with something hard as rock. A fist slams into my shoulder, flattening me to the floor. Wincing, I push myself to my knees, when the demon hits me again. Stars burst across my vision. I hear Lance shout my name. I want to tell him to stay with Arthur, but all that comes out of my mouth is a soft mewl.
Then a bell rings a loud, powerful gong that reverberates throughout the school, its peel finding an echo all the way down into my bones.
For a long second, a strange stillness overtakes the KORT room, as if someone’s magically taken all of the monsters’ batteries out at once. Jaws clenched, I manage to twist myself around, and, summoning a torrent of water, send the creature barreling into the far wall before it can shake off its stupor.
“The wards,” Carman breathes, and I hear the fear in her voice.
For the first time since she’s been freed, she can see her own plans unraveling.
“Hurry,” I urge Arthur as I scramble to his side, half-slipping in the gore strewn across the floor.
Mordred bellows out a cry of pain as Arthur cuts one of the lumps open. Inside it, the carved demon unfurls its wings in protection. But it can’t resist Excalibur, and the sword spears it through.
“Watch it!” Thummim shouts somewhere behind.
Then Carman’s beside the Siege Perilous, sharp-nailed hand yanking Arthur away by his hair. With a grunt, Arthur swings Excalibur around, flinging the black little creature off the sword’s tip in the process.
Lance and I move at the same time, sprinting to Arthur’s help, when something red cuts us off in our tracks. Without breaking pace, Lance thrusts his sword out. But the blade goes through the shape without encountering any resistance.
“What the…,” he starts.
The blood shadow takes a step forward, sliding up Lance’s sword.
“Stand back!” I shout.
Before the blood shadow can touch him, Lance throws himself to the side, careening into an oncoming demon. I throw my hands up, and fire shoots straight for the shade, hitting it in the head. The blood shadow waves uncertainly for a second, then its head reforms, and it turns on me.
“Enough!” Carman growls.
I freeze at the strangled gasp. Arthur’s lost Excalibur, and is now standing helplessly before the witch, tendrils of black tar lashed around his limbs, slowly pulling them apart.
A guttural cry tears from my lips, and I find myself vaulting over both Lance and the shade.
This time, Carman doesn’t hold back. A bolt of lightning hits me straight on, and I crash to the floor, a foot away from her. I moan as my muscles spasm in protest. Carman’s feathered dress brushes against me, slicing through my uniform and finding flesh.
“The time for games is over,” Carman says, voice cold.
Frantic, I watch as she steps over me back to Mordred’s side. Tears of anger and despair blur my vision. I push unsteadily to my hands, try to stand back up.
I can’t let this be how it all ends.
I can’t let her win…
A white shape hurls itself over the back of the Siege Perilous, tiny hooves beating the air seconds before landing on Carman’s face, scratching and hissing. Carman lets out a curse, twisting away with a surprised snarl.
It’s all the time that I need. I lunge, whipping my arm around, and punch Carman straight in the throat, feeling her larynx collapse beneath my knuckles. With a startled wheeze, she doubles over, and the white ball of fur jumps off her face to land in my arms.
“Puck!” I gasp.
The hobgoblin scrambles to the floor, motioning to the Siege Perilous frantically. I start when I notice that Mordred’s eyes, as black now as Owen’s, are staring straight at me.
“Please, sis,” he croaks, voice raw from screaming. “Make it…stop…”
Blink my tears back, I stumble towards him. But as I reach the Siege Perilous, my vision shifts, the world tilting for a second, and when everything rights itself again, I find myself staring at Jennifer instead.
I shake my head in confusion, trying to understand why she’s pointing her miniature handgun at my brother.
“You’ve had a good run,” Jennifer tells him. “And it’s been fun…some.”
“Jennifer, don’t do this,” Lance says.
“What’s happening?” I ask, still lightheaded.
Jennifer smiles at me, her flicking to her squire huddled against the wall. My gaze falls to the metallic net at his feet, Excalibur barely visible through the tight iron meshes. My ogham!
“How does it feel to be fully human?” Jennifer asks, pupils dilated. “I guess we’re going to find that out right now.”
The blast is deafening.
“NO!” Carman screams.
Mordred
’s body slumps to the side, then stops moving. I stare at the blood gushing from a hole in his throat, where the bullet punched through the jugular. I hiccup. This can’t be right.
Mordred’s strong.
Stronger than me.
He can’t…it can’t end like this for him…
He’s my guardian angel!
“And now you.”
Jennifer’s voice seems to come from so very far away. Slowly, I look back at her, gaze locking onto her piercing blue eyes. Her smile is cold and certain as she points her still smoking gun at my own head. Then her finger pulls the trigger.
BANG!
Chapter 40
My world shatters as Arthur crumples before me, head striking the floor with a dull thud. A dark red spot the size of a fist blooms large on his chest, spilling onto the flagstones.
“What did you do?” Lance’s shocked voice asks.
“I-I didn’t mean…,” Jennifer starts, her voice trailing off.
But I don’t care what she has to say. I don’t care what anyone has to say. I let out a terrible moan as I reach for Arthur. My hands convulse over his wound, trying to staunch the flow, but his warm blood keeps seeping through from between my fingers.
“What did you do that for?” I ask, lip shaking uncontrollably. “That was meant for me, you had no right to…to…”
“Shhhh,” Arthur says, struggling to breathe. “You’re OK…all…matters.”
He coughs, grimacing at the pain. I press my hands harder on his wound, willing it to close back up. I reach for my power, but the usual tingling response isn’t there. Instead, I feel…nothing.
Fear twists its cold fingers around my spine. My ogham!
“Urien?” I bark in panic. “Urien!”
The red-headed squire whimpers back. My eyes glide over to the side, finding him lying against the wall in a growing puddle of his own blood, gutted by a demon who’s long since left the room. And, next to him, is Excalibur, the sword still encased in the iron net, cutting me off from my power.
My heart thunders in my ears.
“Lance,” I whisper, afraid to leave Arthur’s side.
“On it.”
Curse of the Fey: A Modern Arthurian Legend (Morgana Trilogy Book 3) Page 37