The Dark Throne, page 44
“That I can,” said Luca. He gazed into the shadows among the trees for another moment and then strode back toward camp. I made my way back to my pack and cloak, still in disarray from the night’s sleep. I shook out my cloak and carefully arranged the Sword by my pack. The emerald in the pommel blinked sleepily at me. Only a small distance away, Niamh folded her legs and sank to the ground with boneless Sidhe grace. She gave me a small nod as she set out her blades to sharpen and spilled her quiver to examine the arrows for broken feathers and cracked shafts. I smiled a little, recognizing her post as the watch guarding my unconscious body; but we said nothing to one another. I lay down on my cloak and folded my hands over my stomach, closing my eyes.
I slid into the ether the instant that I reached for the seam between the waking world and the stuff of dreams. The speed and ease with which I plunged into the pathways surprised me—it felt almost too simple, as though I’d been halfway to Walking already—but I regained my focus and waited by the border I’d just passed, wondering who Vell would send as her messenger. Then a miniature shooting star hurtled across my vision, changing paths abruptly and curving toward me, cutting through the mist and the faraway kaleidoscope of color. I couldn’t help my smile as I watched the comet resolve itself into a Glasidhe.
“Tess-mortal!” Wisp pulled up just short of colliding with my face, the tip of one iridescent wing brushing my nose.
“Wisp,” I said fondly. “You’re hard to see so close.” I moved back just enough so that I could see the Glasidhe without straining my eyes. Moving through the ether felt strangely weightless, almost like floating in water, especially when I wasn’t hurtling toward my destination. “That’s better.”
“It is so very good to see you again, Tess-mortal,” Wisp said, his aura flickering with bright gold and blue, like a beautiful candle flame.
“I’ve missed you,” I said, smiling.
“And I, you,” Wisp replied with an elegant little bow. He still wore the little down-feather behind one ear, just like when he’d come through the tear in the window-screen. But now he wore armor: a dark breastplate that shone like the carapace of a beetle, black pointed-toe boots and gauntlets on his arms, daggers bristling at his belt. His wild, boyish face carried a new gravity.
“You look very fierce,” I told him, and I meant it.
“You look very battle-hardened,” he replied, swooping down to seize one of my hands in his small grip. His fingers delicately traced one whorl of dappled red-and-white flesh.
“New scars to prove it,” I agreed.
“You are all the more intriguing because of your scars,” pronounced the Glasidhe, letting my hand drop as he flew to hover in front of me again. “But look at me, losing focus so easily. It is just so good to see you!”
“I’m grateful that Vell sent you as my guide,” I said.
“Oh, yes. It is always much safer with a guide.” Wisp nodded gravely.
“Let me guess,” I said, thinking of my foray into Darkhill to rescue Murtagh. “There’s wards or protections or booby-traps. Something of that sort.”
“Yes!” said the Glasidhe gleefully. “The High Queen sent me to make sure that you arrived in good time.”
“How nice of her.”
“It is indeed, and I am happy to be of service to both the Bearer and the High Queen,” said Wisp, landing on my shoulder and patting my ear with one small hand. “Come on then. They will be waiting for you.”
The journey through the ether became much easier with Wisp directing me down the appropriate paths. I didn’t have to focus on my destination, and the sensation of floating through the spinning clouds of color became almost enjoyable.
“Tess-mortal, you will be amazed,” said Wisp, guiding me with little pushes on my ear in the direction that he wanted me to go. “Such magnificence, all gathered in one place!”
“I’m sure it’s awe-inspiring,” I said, thinking about the cool elegance of the Unseelie Court, the blazing golden beauty of the Seelie, and the wild perilous splendor of the fledgling vyldgard. “Has everyone been getting along?”
“There were a few tense moments,” admitted Wisp. “Some fistfights and a couple of attempted duels.”
“I would’ve thought the Sidhe were above petty fistfights,” I murmured, adjusting my course at Wisp’s direction.
“Nearly there,” said the Glasidhe. “Well, at first when the three Courts met, it was almost chaos. And then the Queens used their power and—” He clapped his small hands. “It was mostly the High Queen. She was truly marvelous. I think that the other two Courts were just too stunned and surprised to resist her, and then the other Queens stepped in as well.”
“Even Mab?” I asked.
“A bit more to the east. No, that way is east.” Wisp tugged hard on my ear, pointing in the appropriate direction. “You still have a terrible sense of direction.”
I laughed. “I didn’t know that you counted that as one of my shortcomings.”
“We all have our weaknesses,” said Wisp forgivingly. “And yes, even Mab. I think she will always be difficult to like, but she is not as cruel as I think you expect.”
“She dug through my mind without my permission. That counts as cruel in my book.”
“When you have ruled for hundreds of years, holding unimaginable power, it might be easy to lose sight of what others might find painful.”
“You don’t need to make excuses for her,” I said.
“Just don’t be rude during this council,” said Wisp. “Please, Tess-mortal?”
“Only because you asked nicely,” I replied, only half joking.
“Do you want to see the army?” Wisp asked. “We can approach from the sky.”
“Sounds like fun,” I said. Wisp leapt from my shoulder.
“Follow me closely. There are defenses even from the air,” he cautioned.
“I’ll be right behind you,” I reassured him. Wisp wriggled into the seam between the ether and reality, and I slid after him.
Chapter 28
We emerged into the blinding blue of a bright morning sky. Even with the muted sensations of Walking, the cold still bit into my insubstantial form. If I’d had to breathe in my Walker form, I was sure it would have emerged as a cloud of ice crystals from my lips. Instinctual panic sliced into me as I realized we were hundreds of feet above the ground.
“You are lighter than air,” said Wisp in my ear, as though he could read my thoughts. “For this, you do not need wings. Do not be afraid, Tess!”
I didn’t answer, all my energy focused on taking in the magnificent sight below us. I remembered the horror I’d felt at the glimpse of Malravenar’s forces, the bloodstained banners and bleached skulls held aloft over the monstrous Dark army. Now, the hope and pride surging within my chest overtook the intensity of that horror. The Army of the Three Queens covered the land, stretching to the western horizon, the stunning vision emptying my mind of conscious thought for a long moment. To the north, I picked out golden banners bearing the Seelie crest of a rising sun interwoven with vines and heavy-headed roses; and to the south, I saw midnight-blue flags depicting the Unseelie sigil, a graceful tree with the moon and stars in its branches. Finally, to the east, at the forefront of the great force, scarlet banners flew above the warriors, a golden crown and flames hovering above a fierce wolf on the crimson field.
I couldn’t begin to estimate the number of warriors riding beneath these banners. Spears rose like a thicket of trees, armor glinted in the weak sun of the Deadlands, and dust rose up in clouds above the great host, churned by the dancing hooves of the innumerable faehal. As my eyes followed a plume of dust, rising smoke-like among the bright banners, I saw the Glasidhe, their collective auras bright as a star, holding their own sky-blue banner with three trees picked out in gold, the sun on one side and the moon on the other.
“Come,” said Wisp with a tug at my ear. “They are waiting for you.”
I followed Wisp as he led me lower, still stunned by the overwhelming sight of all the warriors in Faeortalam riding out for the last and greatest battle. We wove our way down through the cloud of dust, and I felt the slight warm touch of inquisitive wards brushing past us, crackling with power and protection. I couldn’t see clearly through the gritty cloud, but I still felt the sensation of sinking lower and lower through the air. A great horn bellowed a deep call over the warriors as we emerged from the blinding dust, and I found myself only a few feet above the ground, facing the three Queens at the head of their host.
“Stay with me?” I murmured to Wisp.
“I’ll return,” he said, patting my ear as he stopped resisting the siren call of his physical body, his small ethereal form zipping away. I planted my feet on the dusty ground and looked up at the three Queens on their faehal: Titania to my left, resplendent in bright silver armor, a snow-white cape embroidered with green vines and red roses sweeping over the hindquarters of her mount; Mab on my right, wearing armor that gleamed with rippling light like the depths of a stormy sea, her coldly burning star diadem resting on the lustrous waves of her unbound dark hair; and finally, directly in front of me, there was Vell in her scarlet breastplate with the white-and silver wolf, the crown of the High Queen across her brow and her dark hair braided in its fierce ridge again, her golden eyes flashing as she gave me half a smile. I gave her half a bow, an answering smile on my face. Then I sobered as I nodded to both the Seelie and Unseelie queens.
Vell dismounted, her faehal stamping and snorting. The horn, I realized, must have signaled a halt to the massive army behind her. At the edges of my vision I saw sentries gallop onward, halting and setting a perimeter at a small distance from the forward edge of the forces. Titania slid down from her mount, her pure white cape unblemished even as she strode forward through the dust. Mab dismounted last, her black faehal tossing its head until Ramel came forward to quiet it. I glanced at my old friend, resplendent in the same darkly gleaming armor as the Unseelie Queen, a blood-red ruby flashing in the pommel of the sword at his belt. He caught my gaze and gave me the barest of smiles before turning his attention back to the Queen’s mount.
Wisp reappeared, arcing over Vell’s shoulder. I tightened my ghostly Walker form, creating enough substance that I couldn’t see the ground through my outstretched hand. The beginning of a headache throbbed low in the base of my skull, warning me not to overreach in making my Walker form too much a part of the physical world. Wisp alighted on my shoulder as though it were perfectly normal for a Walker to become half-substantial; his diminutive form felt heavier than usual.
“Well met, Lady Bearer,” said Queen Titania gracefully.
“And to you as well, Queen Titania,” I replied with as much formality as I could muster.
“How fares the northern vanguard?” asked the High Queen, her golden eyes intent on my face.
“We have recovered the Seer and his three companions.” I knew that right now, Vell was the High Queen and I was the Bearer, but I still had to push down the impulse to grin and give her a sarcastic reply. I had a feeling that would ruin our stately bearing, and that just wouldn’t do in front of Titania, and especially not in front of Mab. “There was a Dark force pursuing them, but none of them were gravely wounded, nor were any of our warriors seriously injured in the battle.”
Vell grinned, a flicker of personality seeping through the queenly mask. “It is always good to wreak havoc on our enemies without any losses.”
I gave another nod. “Our captain has led us well. He told me that you requested my presence.” I felt the coldness of Mab’s impenetrable gaze as the Unseelie Queen stared silently at me. Wisp patted my ear in silent encouragement.
“Yes,” said Vell.
“We have refined the plan of our final assault,” said Titania. “The combined wisdom and experience of three Courts allowed us to consider the feasibility of many ideas.”
“This plan will take place after we’ve ridden back to join the army,” I said, more of a statement than a question. Of course Vell would need her Three—Finnead would need to return with his vanguard, and I needed to bring the power of the Sword to bear on Malravenar.
Something flickered in Vell’s golden eyes. Mab turned her head to look at the High Queen; the sudden freedom from her gaze hit me as an intensely physical sensation, as though a weight pressing in on me from all sides had suddenly lifted. I swallowed and took a deep breath, suddenly grateful that I was only half substantial. I didn’t really enjoy Walking anymore, probably because it reminded me of the ease with which I’d slipped between life and death. But right now I was thankful that I didn’t have to physically experience the power tightening the air as some unspoken struggle took place. Finally Mab looked away, and Vell took a deep breath.
“No,” the High Queen said. “You will not be joining our forces.”
“What about the other vanguards?” I asked. “Surely you aren’t asking us to fight on our own, or simply wait until the final battle is done.” I tried not to show my confusion.
“I recalled the southern and western vanguards almost a fortnight past,” said Vell, her face almost as smooth and unreadable as those of the Sidhe queens.
Her words fell like stones into my mind. I blinked but kept my expression as calm as I could. I could play at this game of courtesy and velvet inscrutability as well. I waited silently despite the questions raging through my mind.
“Your discipline has certainly improved, little mortal,” murmured Mab silkily.
I forced myself to meet her eyes. No hounds howled, no waves crashed, no bells sang through my mind. I felt a prickle of triumph and I made my voice steely. “I am the Bearer of the Iron Sword.”
Mab tilted her head slightly. A small, infuriating smile lifted her beautiful lips. “So you are.”
“The southern and western vanguards should rejoin us within two days,” continued Vell as if my exchange with Mab hadn’t happened. “And then we will ride to meet the Dark host.”
I wanted to cross my arms, but I forced myself to keep my hands at my sides. The last thing I needed was to look like a petulant child in front of these magnificent women. “So you will have your Three in the battle. What is our role?”
“We must face Malravenar in his physical form,” said Vell. “He has created a fortress, a henge near the scar which was once the Great Gate.”
“Wasn’t the Great Gate between the Seelie and Unseelie lands?” I asked, unable to pretend that I understood this twist in the geography I’d gleaned from my studies in Darkhill.
“We slid it eastward, when we realized the poison seeping from it,” said Titania. “It was not an easy task, but there are many layers to this land, not all of them immovable.”
“So as long as the poison was outside your borders, you didn’t have to think about it.” I couldn’t help myself. Wisp squeezed my ear warningly.
“We thought that perhaps if the locus of the Gate was pushed farther from our seats of power, it would diminish in power itself and dry up, like a lake after the river feeding it has been diverted.” Titania looked at me serenely. I remembered her sisterly embrace and felt ashamed at my accusation. But her small smile told me silently that I didn’t need to apologize.
I nodded. “All right. So Malravenar has his fortress near the Great Gate.”
“We believe the Seer was, at the least, a diversion,” said Vell. “If the enemy had captured your brother, there would certainly have been dire consequences. I recalled the southern and western vanguards when the Arrisyn located the Seer.” The vyldretning held up a hand at my wide eyes. “Just listen. Merrick located your brother a few days after the vanguards had set out, but then lost him again. You were still hundreds of leagues away from him, and a Seer is exceedingly hard to track. But I knew he was in the north. So I called back the other vanguards. The other Courts arrived. We held council and refined this plan.”
I took a deep breath and nodded. I wanted to ask why Vell hadn’t told us that Merrick had seen my brother in his scrying-glass, but then I thought that perhaps she’d told Luca, and he’d been the one to withhold it from me. Then I shook myself slightly. It didn’t matter. Vell was the High Queen. “All right, tell me this plan.”
“It will come at great cost,” said Mab. I decided I was imagining the slight undercurrent of sadness in her cold voice.
“It must be us who face Malravenar,” said Titania, spreading her hands to encompass me and the other two queens. “He wishes to destroy us, so we must destroy him.”
I tilted my head to one side, considering. “I think that was already a given, but it’s poetic.”
“Yes,” said Vell. “And we have discovered more about what created Malravenar.”
“He seeks to destroy us because of the source of our power,” said Mab.
I frowned. “The Morrigan.” The First, worshipped as a deity in the mortal world…and a remnant of which resided in one of Vell’s Three. I began to understand the sudden knowledge about the origins of Malravenar, and I wondered if Arcana had given up her secrets willingly.
“Long ago, he was the consort of the First Queen. The most powerful mage of his era, though that word as we understand it is perhaps not enough to describe the greatness of what he was,” Titania said, her mellifluous voice grave. “He became enamored with the darkest depths of his art. The First Queen warned her lover not to stray into the shadows, but the power over life and death was too tempting for him to resist.”
I felt a chill as I remembered the strange ease of slipping into the realm just beyond life, the gray cliffs appearing in my mind’s eye.
“The Morrigan bore a daughter,” continued Vell. “And just as she reached the flower of her womanhood, this daughter fell terribly ill.” A slight breeze lifted dust into the air around us. “And though she loved her daughter more than life itself, the First Queen could not save her. Knowing her father was walking deeper into the paths of shadow, the daughter begged her mother not to let her father resurrect her.” Vell took a deep breath. Somehow the story, though it was thousands of years old, was still hard to tell. Both of the Sidhe queens looked reflectively at the ground. “So the Morrigan placed wards of secrecy around her daughter and held her as she died, whispering the words of safe passage into the halls of the gods. And when her daughter lay still and cold, the First Queen placed her body on a bier of roses and burned it until there was nothing but ash.”
