The Ash Queen, page 26
He took a deep breath and slashed again, and again, and again. His arm ached, and he had no idea if he was making any difference at all. The singing of the sisters seemed louder. When he glanced over his shoulder, he was sure he could make out the silver of the soldier’s armour in the dim light.
For the first time, Frayne wondered what it might have been like for Nelda in the dark of the smoke of the burning convent, with the threat of the soldiers and the desperation to escape.
He could only hope that whatever was hiding in the mist now had the same idea, the same fear. He breathed a little more easily. Despite his concern for Heath, he knew that they had nothing to fear here. Whatever had been left had been left to frighten them, but it would have no real impact. And then, in the darkness, he was sure he could make out the bright red of the cardinal’s robes. They were too bright and too clean—unnatural.
The cardinal was something else, something very different to the man they had met so long ago, and yet he was just the same. Wanted just the same thing. To remove them and take the power for himself. He had nearly done that with Pip. If Frayne could not find a way to end this, then he would do the same with Nelda, to Nelda.
The world silenced. The magic Frayne had understood, in the small room where they had found Pip, was with him but not. As though he could feel it, sense it, and yet couldn’t at the same time. He wondered if this was what Heath had understood when his father had been attacked. He had seen the attacker, yet couldn’t see him. Knew him to be there and yet hidden at the same time.
Frayne had the same sense with the magic surrounding the cardinal. The man had magic, held it, possessed it, and yet he didn’t. It was a covering, a mirage of power, and the cardinal didn’t seem to fully understand that.
In that moment, Frayne could see more clearly, as though the understanding lifted the veil. And the mist, although present, lifted to a point that he could clearly see the men standing within it. Whether the cardinal was meant to be one of those or if he had just been pulled into it rather than a member of the group, Frayne didn’t know.
The water that had flowed across the floor stopped shy of the men, as though it could not reach them. The cardinal flicked his fingers out, and the shallow water washed back towards him, leaving a dry floor behind it.
Frayne heard a cry and wanted to turn away from the men, but he knew he couldn’t. It was Lia’s response to their magic pushing on her own, or something more had happened—but he could not look away. Frayne could not be distracted. He had to end this, and he was tired.
Captain West raced forward, his sword held behind him. As he ran, he knocked those before him to the side. They moved as though by choice rather than by force, and Frayne realised that West’s focus was the cardinal. The man who had made things even more difficult for Ymma than they needed to be and had likely caused her injuries in the first place.
West’s sword moved swiftly, but the cardinal also appeared to shift without the sword having any impact on him. Frayne was reminded of the queen, the woman he had stabbed and yet had walked away.
What other magic did they contain?
The cardinal grinned and then faltered, the water flowing back across the floor. The singing increased, and the cardinal clenched his fists before him. Nothing happened. Whatever magic he was trying to muster was not visible to the rest of them, and the older man’s frustration showed on his face.
Not so long ago, he had appeared younger, fitter. That must have been the magic. He had aged again, his beard and hair grey, his robes not quite as bright as they had been moments ago. Frayne stepped forward, the monks shifting out of his way as he walked slowly towards the cardinal. His sword was by his side, and he wondered—if he struck at the men standing beside him, would any of them fall?
West swung again as the cardinal focused on the women beyond them, now clearly visible as the mist had lifted. The sword caught his arm, and the old man turned on the soldier, anger in his eyes. But other than grabbing at his arm, he did nothing. West lifted the sword again, and before Frayne could reach him, the man swung, taking the cardinal’s head off at the shoulders as the general’s sword pierced his chest.
There was no sound, no indication that they had succeeded in ending him other than the increased singing in the cathedral, as though the sister’s voices had been amplified. Frayne glanced towards the God, sure that the statue nodded in his direction. And then, there was a thud. Heath, bloody and beaten, appeared in the middle of the space, the creature who had killed him the last time standing before him, also marked from a battle none of them had witnessed.
Chapter 36
Nuris looked up from the cardinal’s body, disbelieving that they had managed to end the man so easily. But perhaps in destroying his store of magic, they had left him nothing to draw on. Heath and the creature suddenly appeared in the middle of the cathedral, far more frightening than the mist had been. They sounded as though they had fallen from the heavens, and Nuris wondered where they could have been. Was Heath lost in the mist somehow? He glanced around quickly, ensuring the rest of the party were there.
Ymma sat in a far corner with Pip in her arms. The child did not appear any better than when they had found her, and something like regret pulled at him. They had left her alone, without fully considering the danger she might be in.
The sound of thunder echoing through the space drew his attention back to Heath and the creature. The monks who had finally been visible when the mist lifted were surrounding them. Nuris drove his sword into the back of the nearest man. He fell easily, and Nuris wondered at the magic they had used. Why had it been so difficult before to injure them? He doubted they were supported by the cardinal, or he by them, because nothing was as it seemed to be any longer in Sunsong.
Others turned then, as though in slow motion. West took out another one, the cardinal’s blood still splashed across his face and breast plate. Nuris caught the flash of claws in the light now streaming through the windows, only it was followed not by the cry he expected but a clash against stone.
It was as though the outside world had entered the cathedral. Trees appeared from nowhere, earth spilled across the floor, and water flowed in little rivulets. Nuris staggered, tripping over a stone that had appeared at his feet.
The monster roared in frustration or pain, the sound more frightening than the laugh they had heard through the mist. It lashed out again. Nuris realised he had stopped. He was standing slack-jawed, staring at the battle before him. For an instant, half a heartbeat, he was certain the statue of the God moved. How could that be? The sounds of singing filling the cathedral began to sound more like birds.
He glanced around, looking for Grace, for the girl with the connection to earth, and found Heath looking more like her than he’d expected. Heath’s hair was wayward—he appeared as though he had rolled in the dirt—but as he ducked a swipe by the creature, he rolled across the grass now covering the floor and then bounced back to his feet as though it were nothing. A small smile played at Nuris’s lips, but it was gone in an instant as a tree reached out and smacked the creature’s face with a narrow branch, leaving a red mark. The creature roared again.
“You are not as strong as you believe,” Heath said breathlessly, the only indication that this fight was as hard as it appeared to be.
“I am more than you can ever be,” the creature growled in return, making the hairs on Nuris’s arms stand to attention.
Another monk ran at Nuris, and he cut him down with little effort. They were only wearing tunics. They might have been able to hide in the magic, but once it was released, they had nothing at all.
The monks looked beyond the battle. Each one ran towards a soldier and was cut down. Within minutes, the monks were all dead. Nuris glanced around, trying to find where the body of the cardinal had gone. But he could no longer see it. There was a mound in the grass where he had been. Perhaps the earth was taking him back or hiding him, although Nuris doubted the latter to be the case.
West crept forward, now that the monks were gone, and raised his sword to slice at the monster—although as he did, it turned. The large claws reached for him, and as the world appeared to drop into silence, a flame flared in its face. It pulled back, missing West who managed to slash his sword forward, and a fine red line marked the creature’s slender body. The red was bright against the grey skin, although it did not appear to be bleeding.
Frayne rushed in to do the same. He ducked down and slashed at the creature’s legs as Heath hurled what appeared to be a large rock at the back of its head. The cut did not slow him down. A large, clawed hand intercepted the rock before it reached its target, and it shattered before it could do any damage.
They could fight all night and not get anywhere with this creature. It was too strong and too unnatural.
Another fireball lit up the world around it, although Nuris was sure as it stepped back that the fire made no impact. The water, flowing slowly through little rivulets, was moving over the creature’s feet and up its legs.
The creature cried out as it flowed over the cuts Frayne had made, although like the others, the cuts were no more than fine red lines. Nuris wondered what magic it held that could protect it in such a way. It started to claw at its own skin as the water travelled up its body, and Lia took a step forward. Her eyes were closed, the concentration deep on her face. Her hands were held out, palms down towards the ground.
The creature turned its head slowly towards her. It stretched out a slender arm, the clawed fingers reaching for Lia, but a fireball hovered around its face. It swatted at it without making any impact. Nuris crept forward, watching where he was putting his feet, mostly so he did not slip over but also to ensure he wasn’t in the way of the water or Lia’s magic. Coming between her and the creature might not have an impact, but he didn’t want to take the risk.
As he got closer, Heath sucked in a deep breath that sounded as though it hurt. Nuris wondered if he had been injured or if it was the effort of hurling his magic at this beast.
The water worked its way up the creature, forming a barrier it could not seem to break through, and Heath closed his eyes and reached out a shaky arm. Nuris stepped closer to him rather than the creature he had planned to try and cut down while it was distracted. He put an arm around Heath. The boy leaned into him instantly, his arm still held towards the creature. Nuris, unsure whether it was the right thing to do, dropped his sword, the point stuck into the grass, and wrapped both arms around the boy.
Solid stone formed around the creature’s legs. Where the water travelled, the stone seemed to harden, and the creature growled. The singing continued. Somewhere in the distance, Nuris was sure he could hear others calling out, as though they were unsure whether they should move forward or stay where they were.
Was Heath’s father calling to him? Nuris tried not to think about the old friend he’d thought dead and what his sister had done to keep that secret. He focused on keeping Heath standing. The ground around him became more solid. He glanced down at the sword, knowing that if he needed it, it was still within reach.
Within moments, the creature appeared lost to the stone—a large, rough stone that might have stood in the forest somewhere. The relief only lasted seconds before there was a rumble, as though the whole building were shaking, and the water that flowed towards the stone along the narrow channels rippled. Heath had become heavy. Nuris placed him down slowly into the grass, which seemed to rise up to meet him, the ground softening around him.
Frayne stepped forward. West and several other soldiers stood with swords ready, focused on the stone as though it could not possibly be over. Nuris reached for his sword as well. As his hand closed around the handle, a crack echoed around them. The singing that had filled the space ceased as though the whole world were holding its breath.
The stone that had appeared so solid shattered into a thousand tiny shards that blew outwards. Nuris raised his arm to cover his face, despite the certainty that he should not take his eyes from the creature.
But the shards didn’t hit him. As he lowered his arm, it was as though they hovered in midair only a foot from where they had originally been. The others lowered their arms as well as the water swirled around the creature. The sisters continued their song, loud and clear, as though they were a choir of a hundred. Lia slumped to the ground, and the water flowing over the creature slowed.
Frayne raced forward, but the stone closed around the creature again as he did. A growl that shook the world again echoed from the rock itself. Frayne continued forward, swinging his large sword, although the stone had reformed. Frayne’s sword sliced into the stone as though it were nothing, his feet leaving the ground he moved with such speed. The rock shattered once more, only this time it crumbled to the ground. The water flowed from the hollow inside, turning the stone to mud before it disappeared, washed away in the slow current of the rivulets.
Frayne looked down at his sword and then back to the place where the creature had been. Was it lying in wait? Had it vanished and they could never truly end this? Heath groaned, and Nuris squatted down over him, helping him to sit up. As he did, the ground around him seemed to level out, the grass withdrew, and the trees disappeared as quickly as they had arrived.
“Did you do that?” Nuris asked.
Heath shook his head and then nodded slowly, putting his hand to the side of his head as though it pained him to move. He looked up, expecting Lia to race to his side, but she looked just as drawn, resting against Nelda who still held a flame in her hand. There was no sign of danger, no sign of the cardinal, the monks, or the creature that had been far stronger than any of them.
“Magic,” Heath wheezed.
“Magic?” Frayne asked, his sword held out, staring at where the creature had been. The prince looked more spent than his brother, and Nuris wondered how he was still standing.
“Like the cardinal,” West said, but his focus was on the back of the room. Nuris patted Heath on the shoulder and then pulled him to his feet. The boy’s father was there in an instant to take his weight, and Nuris headed in the direction West was looking.
He needed to check on Pip himself, needed to be sure that she was well and whatever the cardinal had done to her could be undone. She smiled at him as he reached for her, pulling her from Ymma’s arms. And as the maid stood, a little shaky herself, West pulled her against his chest as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Throne,” Pip whispered in Nuris’s ear as he held her against his chest. Her head rested on his shoulder.
Was she worried that there was still a threat to it, or did she understand how it could help those around her? Someone had made the same suggestion before, and Nuris had seen the benefits himself. The king gave him a single nod, and Nuris wondered if the man would let him sit in it himself to understand what magic it contained.
Chapter 37
Nelda wasn’t sure what to make of the scene before her. The empty, echoing expanse of the cathedral seemed unnatural suddenly. She looked up at the God, sure that he was looking down on her, his unseeing eyes content with the lack of holy men.
There was no sign a battle had taken place, that the monks had been cut down, or that the cardinal had lost his head. No hint of blood on the flagstones. But then, only moments ago they had been covered in hills and grass, rivulets and trees.
“Heath,” Lia murmured beside her. Nelda looked between those still standing, ensuring none of them were lost.
“There,” she whispered, allowing the flame to die in her hand. Heath, supported by his father, made his way towards them too slowly. The young witch stepped out to meet him.
Frayne remained in the centre of the space, his sword hanging by his side, his focus on the floor before him. She headed in his direction. As she gently touched his arm, he flinched away from her.
“Mother,” he whispered, looking at her with a hollow gaze. He looked beyond exhausted. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, and she leaned into him. “Is it truly gone?”
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. She wanted it to be. The earth had taken the others; it likely could have taken the creature who had once been a man with it.
“Heath said something about magic,” he said.
“I think, like the cardinal, once you and Heath removed the magic or blocked the access to it, no matter what it had become, it had nothing left to fight with.”
“Was he different? Was he more than a man before he took the magic?” Frayne asked.
Nelda shook her head against him. She could not guess at what the man had been. She was only certain that he was something different to Heath. Something very different. Despite what Heath had been given, she had no idea why it had been given to him and no other man.
“I don’t feel a sense of dread,” Frayne whispered.
“Then perhaps it is over.”
“But I feel concerned. Not in the same way, not the fear that creature evoked—but I’m worried for what is to come.”
Nelda pulled back from him, studying his weary face.
“A different life?” she asked.
He shook his head and turned towards the group standing by the cathedral doors. “Something else,” he murmured, releasing his hold on her but taking her hand just as quickly. Then he led them to join the others.
“Are you hurt?” Dunstan asked, stepping out to meet them. Concern etched on his face, his hand on his sword. It was hard to tell which one of them he was looking at as he asked the question, but when they grew closer, he stopped and looked between them.
“No,” Frayne murmured, “you?”
The king shook his head, turning his focus to Nelda. And then he reached out, took her other hand, and stepped in to press his lips to her forehead. “You feel warm,” he murmured.
