Oberon's Children
Page 25
Chapter Twenty-One: Children of the Fae
I was in motion before I had any idea what was happening.
As soon as the Erlking was struck, both sides of Fae burst into action, rushing at each other to meet at the long day-night line that bisected the Bower field. I dove for Oberon and managed to knock him down out of the way as Gwyn roared past us and attacked Titania, throwing her back in a huge heaving lunge.
I rolled Oberon over, trying to find what was wrong with him, but he moved away from me and stood as the whole in his chest shimmered with silver moonlight and began to close on its own.
“Get back – help the Ilyn!” he shouted to me over the din, and then he was rushing toward Titania as Gwyn roared in pain, the sunlight hitting and blistering his skin.
I recoiled and ducked as arrows flew over me; I dove behind an Urden that had its arms out and back turned, protecting the other Fae from the brunt of the attack. Arrows stuck in its gray-green hide, but seemed to do no more damage than if they’d hit a solid rock. The Ilyn surged forward around the sides of the Urden once the volley was done, but not all were so lucky: I watched helplessly as half a dozen fell with stray arrows through their chests, throats, and eyes.
I regained my feet and searched desperately for Faolan, looking everywhere. There was no one I recognized around me – only swirling knots of Elves and Ilyn, all engaged in vicious combat. Finally my eyes landed on him, fighting beside Gwyn just on the night side of the world-divide, both sprouting arrows from their thick leather armor. They fought with bronze swords that bit through the wood wielded by the Elves, but they were by far outnumbered. Beyond them I could see flashes of silver and gold and knew Titania and Oberon were fighting as well.
I went for them, but was stopped when one of the Elves appeared from nowhere. A dagger with a blade made of sharpened horn snaked out for me, and I recoiled just in time to avoid having my throat cut. I scrambled backward, shouting, and grabbed the madness.
The fever washed over and through me, and when the Elf came again I attacked before he got to me. I snapped my fist out and landed it in his stomach, producing a rush of air that smelled like fresh cut heather, and then spun and slammed my foot against his knee. He shouted in pain and crumpled to the ground. He grabbed my foot and pulled me back, landing me next to him on my stomach.
I shouted in alarm, but my voice was lost in the din of battle. I flipped over onto my back and balled my feet up as he tried to throw himself onto me. I managed to push up and keep him away, but he twisted as he fell back and knocked aside my legs, then lunged forward again and punched my shoulders to the ground. The high cheekbones and alien features horrified me, and I tried to pull away, tried to let the madness show me the way out, but I couldn’t move. He raised the dagger high over me, and all I could see was the sharpened edge of horn ready to slice open my neck.
A shape flew past me that I couldn’t make out, but as it went it struck the Fae I was fighting, ripping a gash in the side of his neck. The Elf cried out in alarm and pain, and flipped off of me, clutching at the wound. I spun to my feet immediately, shocked at my reversal of fortune, and looked down at the gash in the creature’s neck.
It was foaming along the edges like acid eating into the flesh.
A wave of sickness washed over me, and I turned to look at the path the shape had taken as it rushed past me, knowing before I even saw the disappearing form, before I even saw the other Fae, both light and dark, stagger away as it crossed their path, who it must have been.
Robin.
I rushed after him, wondering who I would find when I caught up to him. Who was he now? What side was he on?
But before I could give chase in earnest, I pulled up short and realized that Oberon’s forces were being driven back, and Gwyn’s Hunters could not go near the sunlight and were forced to retreat alongside them. The Elves continued to pour out of the forest, and though they were less in number they were far better prepared and armed. Arrows continued to fly, striking down the Ilyn. There were other creatures in the forest now too, I could see them there in the shadows, but only as giant scaled forms, nearly the size of Urden.
“To the Bower!”
I don’t know who raised the cry, but it was taken up and echoed on all sides. I turned and retreated with the rest of the Moonlight Fae, keeping my eyes peeled for both Faolan and Robin. The Sunlight Fae cheered and began to follow us, but the line of night and day did not shift, and as they crossed it, I felt heat swell up inside me and below me, rolling through the earth.
Roots began to emerge from the ground, attacking the legs of the Sunlight Fae, pulling them down into the ground, strangling them. I looked up and saw the branches of the Bower swaying as if in a high breeze. Connected as I still was to the madness, I could feel the fever coming off the Bower, could feel the energy it was putting out. The Elves shouted and retreated, and the line between day and night became clear again and I thought that maybe we had won.
Then the line of sun and day began to advance once more.
I remembered with mounting fear what Oberon had said, that the outer circle was broken and that we could only hold out so long. It looked as though he’d been right.
The Elves began to advance, and as they did I saw other Sunlight Fae emerge from the forest, all similarly angular and fair, with long hair and haughty faces, and behind them came the large creatures I’d glimpsed as shadows that seemed to glisten in the sun as light bounced off what looked like scales.
One of them burst from the trees and took to the air.
It was a monstrous lizard with huge wings like a bat’s. It opened its mouth and let out a roaring challenge that was echoed by the Urden who rushed to meet it as it dove toward the day-night world divide. Emboldened, another dozen of the creatures took wing behind the first and followed suit, descending from the sky.
The Urden fought against them with their huge arms, swinging and pounding the creatures when they came close enough, but the monstrous claws ripped through the gray-green skin with terrifying ease, and Urden began to fall. The chief Urden, covered in the ritual markings and standing head shoulders above the others, rallied them, standing even with the first and largest of the reptilian beasts, finally slamming it to the ground and ripping open its chest to a chorus of ragged cheers.
But the power of the sun was too great. The scaled creatures dove through the air, and though the Urden attacked them in groups, grabbing the wings and tearing them off at the shoulder, or diving on top of the creatures as they came in low, still the Moonlight Fae burned, and Gwyn’s Hunters fell back, unable to face the encroaching sunlight, their skin steaming as they retreated, though they’d thrown their hands and cloaks over their heads to ward it off.
Faolan.
I couldn’t see him, didn’t know where he had gone.
Puck.
He was gone as well, disappeared into the swirling tide of battle that raged back and forth across the field I had danced in so many times.
Oberon –Titania – Gwyn –
I could see none of the monarchs now either. The Urden were all around, and the Ilyn as well, and I was neither tall nor big; there was no way for me to see any section of the field besides that in which I was. Another Elf rushed at me, and this time the madness flowed easily and I laid her out before she could do me any harm, but as soon as I’d done so I was swept back by the retreating tide of Fae toward the Bower.
“Faolan!”
I could barely hear myself over the din, and knew it was impossible to even hope that he might hear me too.
“STOP!”
For a second I thought it was me who’d shouted the word, but in the next I knew it wasn’t. The shout had carried across the field with unnatural strength, and many of the combatants disengaged to turn in the direction of the cry, which sounded haggard and ill-used.
I rushed toward the sound, crashing my way through the Fae who barred my path without any care for which side they were on. He was about to do something fo
olish – I had to get to him, I had to be there –
“STOP!”
I saw the speaker – Robin Goodfellow.
His clothing was in tatters, both from what Oberon and Gwyn had done to him and from what he’d gone through to get to the edge of the battlefield. Blood was everywhere, and I couldn’t tell what was his and what was from the other Fae. I kept moving toward him as those around me began to disengage from one other, compelled by the strength of his voice, and I realized he was pushing toward Oberon and Titania, both of whom had noticed him.
A wave of sickness washed over me as he raised his hand and held the iron blade of his dagger to his throat – the dagger I’d kicked away and forgotten.
“Hold!”
“Stop!”
Oberon and Titania were the ones who’d shouted, and their voices were echoed over the fields like the crashing boom of thunderheads jostling one another for position. A wind swept over them, raking through the bodies of the embattled Fae like a comb through hair, sweeping them apart, the combined power of the Faerie King and Queen compounding upon itself, making me realize what they could do if they worked together, showing me both how they were meant to fit and how they had been driven apart.
The noise died, and the Fae looked around, trying to find what or who had spoken. I pushed forward, trying to get to Robin, and broke through the last line of Urden. With a sense of vertigo, I realized we were all barely a dozen yards from the entrance to the Hollowed Hall.
Robin was standing directly on the line of demarcation between the sunlight and the moonlight, where it had stopped and, for the moment, stayed. Oberon stood behind him, closer to the Bower, staring at his son with wide eyes, and Titania stood closer to me, still in the sun, throwing off dazzling beams of light.
“Give me answers,” Robin said, “or I end this right now.”