The Dark Throne, page 51
“Thought we’d seen some uglies in the mountains but whew, we got a real twisted mastermind here,” said Duke, shaking his head as he crouched by the corpse of an ogre, squinting as he inspected its mottled green and gray skin. He lifted the ogre’s ugly lips with the tip of one of his knives, examining the stained, tusk-like teeth with clinical interest.
“Yeah, well, doesn’t seem like most of ‘em are smart enough to wear armor,” replied Jess. The inspection of Quinn’s arm had been passed to the oldest member of the team, but he pressed the bloody handkerchief back over the wound after just a momentary glance. “Duke, stop poking at the dead monsters and get over here and do your job.”
“Aw, rub some dirt on it and shake it off,” Duke said nonchalantly, but he obediently stood and made his way over to Quinn.
“Everyone else good?” Liam asked.
“Check,” said Jess after he’d inspected himself, patting a particularly large patch of blood on his leg to make sure it didn’t conceal a wound he hadn’t felt in the rush of battle.
“I’m solid,” said Duke, tilting his head to one side as he peeled back the sodden cloth over Quinn’s arm.
“Tess?” Liam turned toward me.
“All good,” I replied. “Sorry, didn’t know I was included in that question.”
“Of course you’re included in that question,” Liam said, giving me a one-armed hug after I dismounted again. I pulled my healing kit from my pack.
“What do you need?” I asked Duke, peering over his shoulder. “I don’t know how long we’ll be stopped. Probably only for a few more minutes.”
“That’s fine, I only need three or four minutes,” the wiry Southerner replied. “Gonna put in a few stitches, brother.”
“Do what you gotta do,” replied Quinn, who was a little pale beneath his tattoos. The gash stretched from his left shoulder to his elbow, and it still bled sluggishly.
“Clean cut,” Duke announced after a close inspection. “Nothing in it that I can see.” He wiped away a trickle of blood with the handkerchief. “Don’t suppose you have steri-strips or Neosporin in that kit of yours.”
I chuckled. “No, but I have a needle and thread, and I can make an antiseptic salve while you stitch.”
“Old school. I like it.” Duke grinned as he accepted the offered needle and thread, his calloused fingers surprisingly nimble as he slid the thread through the eye of the needle on the first try.
“That’s because you’re not the one who’s gonna look like Frankenstein in a few minutes,” Quinn muttered.
“Don’t be a baby,” admonished Duke. “Least it didn’t slice through any of your tats.”
Quinn narrowed his eyes at the shorter man in reply but held his arm out forbearingly. I turned my attention to mixing the herbs for the salve, first rinsing my hands clean and scrubbing them dry on one of my spare shirts.
“Here,” I told Jess, handing him the little bowl from my healing kit. “Hold this.” He didn’t seem surprised and obediently held the bowl while I sorted through my vials of powder. I tipped a few different ones into the little bowl, carefully replacing the seal atop each vial. After adding a splash of water, I mixed the salve with my fingers.
“Perfect timing,” said Duke in satisfaction, snipping the threads of the last knotted stitch with the little scissors in his multitool.
“Not bad at all,” I said, surveying the neat line of stitches.
“I know, right? Almost like I have training or somethin’.” Duke grinned at me.
“This might sting a little,” I warned as I carefully daubed the salve onto the angry red line of the wound with two fingers. Quinn just shrugged with his other shoulder, watching the Valkyrie fly overhead. I finished applying the salve, tossed Duke a roll of clean bandages, and cleaned out my little mixing bowl, checking to make sure everything was in its proper place before I rolled up my healing kit and slid it back into my pack.
A Valkyrie landed gracefully a short distance from us, the backdraft from the faehal’s wings sending whorls of dust across our boots. Niamh hopped down from her winged mount, rubbing its neck and inspecting a bent pinion feather on one of its gleaming wings. Escaped curls of her white-gold hair created a halo around her head, but her flushed cheeks and disheveled braid only added to her impish charm as she turned toward us.
“If you had been a little quicker, that troll’s blade wouldn’t have caught you,” she said to Quinn, eyes glimmering.
“Well, we can’t all be avenging angels raining death from above,” he replied, an answering gleam in his brown gaze. Duke finished bandaging his arm and gave him a pat on the back, turning away with a barely concealed smile.
“What is an angel?” Niamh frowned. “I do not believe we have these creatures in our world.”
Liam and Jess followed Duke’s example, retrieving their faehal and following me back toward the front ranks of the army. I swallowed a laugh as we walked away, imagining Quinn’s reply.
“Will he be able to use the arm?” I asked Duke. “It didn’t look too deep, but…”
“He’s a tough bastard. It’ll hurt like hell, but he’ll use it all right.” Duke patted his faehal’s neck, glancing at Liam after my brother cleared his throat. “What? She’s just as grown-up as any of us, shouldn’t need to pussyfoot around her afraid of using a word that’ll offend her.”
I smiled. “Liam’s just overprotective.”
“You don’t say,” drawled Duke. He glanced at me in admiration. “You can hold your own as well as any of us.”
“And why shouldn’t I?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Well, you’re a girl,” Duke said. My brother rolled his eyes and Jess shook his head. I had a feeling this was a common topic of conversation.
“I’d think you’d be grateful for the change in scenery,” I said, remembering my conversation with Liam in the ether. He must have had the same thought, because we caught each other’s eyes and had to look away, clamping down on laughter.
“Oh, I’m very appreciative,” said Duke. “But you can’t blame me. Not like there are sword-slinging ladies in our world.”
I made a considering noise. “I think they just don’t sling swords. But they’re probably around. Maybe you just haven’t been looking in the right places.” I smiled.
“If you know of a magical club of lady warriors back through that portal, please just show me the way.” Duke widened his eyes.
“It’s hard to stay irritated at you,” I commented.
“Welcome to our world,” said Jess, just as Duke said, “It’s part of my Southern charm.”
“I don’t know whether charm is the right word…”
I felt strangely content as we made our way back to the front lines, walking with Liam and bantering with his teammates, stepping over dismembered Dark creatures like they were just features of the landscape. The Sword laughed a little, sending that prickling vibration down my spine and through my ribs. I even appreciated that, letting the feeling wash over me. We mounted our faehal again under the waving banner of the Wild Court. Elwyn sat on her mount beside Vell, a long gash down the side of her face; but the commander of the southern vanguard seemed not to notice her injury, speaking animatedly with the High Queen.
Vell glanced over at us and then frowned. Elwyn paused. “Did one of the mortals fall in battle?”
“No,” I replied, “Quinn is just, ah, having a conversation with Niamh.”
Vell raised one eyebrow and smiled slightly. “I see.” She turned back to Elwyn, who promptly continued her report.
I glanced around the High Queen. Gray spoke to one of the other warriors from the southern vanguard. And then I caught Arcana staring at me. The Morrigan sat motionlessly astride her faehal, her dark hair bound back in a simple braid. A copper spark slid past her slightly parted lips.
“She’s not creepy at all,” deadpanned Duke, following my gaze. I blinked and forced myself to look away. I thought I saw a small smile on the Morrigan’s face when I broke the stare.
“That’s not her real body,” I said quietly.
“So…is she dead?” Duke frowned.
“I don’t really know,” I answered honestly. “I don’t think she’s dead, but she’s a spirit that inhabits that body. A fragment of a much larger power.”
“Are you sure I’m not just hallucinating all of this?” Duke asked rhetorically. “Maybe we got blown up and I hit my head really hard and I’m in a coma.”
I shrugged. “Hard to prove otherwise beyond what I’ve already showed you, if that’s what you really think. But this is a pretty realistic hallucination, isn’t it?”
“True.” Duke gripped the haft of his axe. “Plus I think if I dreamed up a world, it would be a little bit different than this. Beer and four-wheelers and girls in bikinis, know what I mean?”
“You sound like a Southern cliche.”
“No need to be jealous.” He grinned. “This is more of Quinn’s fanboy dream than mine anyway. He’s into the whole nerdtron comic book superhero thing.”
I smiled. “Being a comic book nerd isn’t so bad.”
“Comic book,” repeated Wisp, swooping down to land on my shoulder. “I have heard this term before, Tess-mortal, though I have not had the chance to study them extensively.” He gave a little bow to Duke, who saluted him with two fingers; and then the Glasidhe continued, “I come bearing news. There is to be another council, probably tomorrow.”
“The final planning council,” I said.
“It will be most grand!” asserted Wisp. “The Three Queens, and the Bearer, and a Seer!”
I wondered silently about the queens’ expectations of Liam, but the blare of the white horn interrupted my thoughts. Nehalim tossed his head, as if to say that it was past time we got moving again. I guided him over to Vell’s side as the army slowly rolled into motion.
“Welcome back,” I told Elwyn as I passed her. The white-fair commander grinned.
“I hear you’re the one to be congratulated on the rescue of the Seer,” she said.
“Well, he’s my brother, so I had extra motivation,” I replied with a smile. “And Luca commanded our vanguard. Your congratulations should go to him.”
“Humble as ever, Lady Bearer.” Elwyn’s eyes flashed in amusement. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I should see to my fighters.” She turned her faehal’s head and disappeared among the ranks of warriors.
“Come ride with me, Tess.” Vell beckoned. Nehalim drew even with her mount, and I waited expectantly. The vyldretning said to Gray, “Ensure the messengers are sent to the other queens. We must remain vigilant for the return of our last vanguard.”
“Yes, my queen,” replied Gray, her beautiful face still glowing with the joy of battle. She wheeled her mount and rode down the ranks.
Vell watched her go for a moment, and then turned back to me. “Leading an army is difficult work.”
“I think that’s an understatement,” I said, my eyes traveling over the countless ranks of warriors stretching to either side of us and behind us. “And from what I’ve seen, you’re doing just fine.”
“Finnead’s experience would greatly help,” she said. Then she looked at me. “Are you glad he’ll be back with us soon?”
“Yes,” I replied, and then I paused. “Although I’ve been thinking. A lot.”
“Only thinking?” Vell tilted her head to one side, her gaze settling on Luca and then traveling back to me.
“Only thinking.” Oddly enough, I wasn’t irritated at Vell for bringing up the question. “Although thinking is more than enough, sometimes.”
“You sound like your thoughts trouble you.”
“I don’t want to be a cliché,” I muttered. “Letting my heart affect my head when we’re in the middle of a war.”
“Nonsense,” said Vell firmly. “There’s no law that says you can’t find love even in the most dangerous of places.”
I looked down at the barren earth beneath Nehalim’s hooves. Vell waited. Finally I said, “I thought I’d already made my choice. But there’s so many things going on right now…I’m afraid, to be honest. I’m afraid that if I let Finnead go that I’ll lose him, but I don’t want to lose Luca either. We’re heading into a battle where anything could happen. How terrible is that, not wanting to make a decision because I don’t want one of them to die?”
“You don’t want either of them to die,” corrected Vell, “and it’s not terrible. It makes sense. But here’s another thought.” She looked at me perceptively. “What’s worse, not living fully because you’re afraid of loss, or losing both of them because you’re afraid to live fully?”
I winced. “I’ll need another minute to wrap my mind around that.”
Vell smiled. “I’ve seen my share of death and destruction, and so have you. There’s no reason not to seize every moment we have left…with whomever you want.”
I thought of Finnead, the raven’s-wing sheen of his dark hair and the stormy blue depths of his eyes, the feel of his arms around me, all we’d shared and suffered together during my time in Faeortalam. “You know…one of my brother’s friends, he suggested that maybe Finnead still views me as a damsel in distress who needs his protection.”
“I can’t say if he views you as a damsel in distress, though I think…the idea has merit,” said Vell thoughtfully, “but to that I would add…perhaps Finnead has known you for too long. Has his perception of you changed as you have changed?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know.” We rode in silence for a moment, the sounds of the great army drifting around us. “I do know, though, that Luca views me as an equal. He teaches me as he would teach any other fighter. I appreciate that.”
“It is a unique quality in ulfdrengr men. They are not so constrained by tradition or courtesy,” said Vell with a little smile. “Though your brother seems to hold many of the same views.”
“It looks like you two had a lot to talk about,” I said with an answering smile.
Vell drew her shoulders back and sat up straight in her saddle, exaggerating her regal posture. “Even when facing the end of the world, Lady Bearer, one must appreciate handsome, intelligent men who can wield a sword.” She raised her eyebrows suggestively at the last phrase.
“I really don’t want to talk about my brother wielding any sort of metaphorical sword,” I said, wrinkling my nose. Vell gave a very unqueenly snort of laughter and turned the conversation to other topics as we rode onward, the sun sinking lower in the western sky, our great army pressing toward the poisoned lands ahead.
Chapter 33
“Are you sure you want to try this?” I raised my eyebrows at Liam. “Two battles today, and two visions, too.”
“I’ll just try it on my own if you don’t teach me,” Liam said, raising his eyebrows in return. “Does that remind you of anyone?”
I smiled and shook my head. “Using my childhood words against me. Not fair.”
“Completely fair, if it gets my point across.” My brother grinned.
We stood in the center of the Wild Court camp, our shadows long in the gathering dusk. The return of the western vanguard had happened much the same as the return of the southern: a Valkyrie messenger, riding hard; the army leaping forward, pouring over the flat Deadlands, engulfing the Dark force surrounding Finnead and Calliea’s warriors. Killing the Dark creatures surrounding them had felt much the same as earlier in the day. It was all beginning to blend together, the shrieks and shouts and scent of blood in the air, dust churned to gory mud beneath the hooves of dancing faehal. The force pursuing the western vanguard had been larger than the one earlier in the day, but it was still no match for the leagues of Sidhe warriors. In that second battle, though, we’d lost a few warriors. Their pyres still burned behind us, and their names now gleamed on my blade.
“What’s on your mind?” Liam crossed his arms.
I sighed. “Is it that obvious?”
“You’re my sister. I should know when something is wrong.”
I pressed my lips together. “Let’s finish this first, and then we’ll talk.” I stretched out my hands. “Okay. For me, when I call my taebramh, I visualize it as white fire. I feel it in my chest, so that’s where I see myself drawing it from, and it flows down my arms, like that…” My war-markings sparked to life as a ripple of taebramh flowed down their intricate curves. “Before I had my war-markings, I just thought of it sliding down to my fingertips. But only a little bit, like a spider’s thread.”
Liam narrowed his eyes in concentration, and a small bluish glow appeared at his fingertips. I smiled.
“And then you have to direct it. Think of what you want to do, visualize it in your head, and let it respond to your thoughts.” I wove a ball of light as I’d done during our journey through the northern wilds, tossing the softly glowing sphere into the air.
“You make it look easy,” muttered Liam, brows drawn together. Slowly, his taebramh swelled into a small circular light.
“Make sure you don’t let it continue to draw power from you,” I cautioned. “It’ll go out eventually, but it’s safer that way.”
With a flick of his wrist, Liam sent his small sphere up to hover next to mine. I grinned.
“Are magic lessons over?” Quinn asked, looking up at the floating lights.
“I think I still have a lot to learn,” Liam replied with a chuckle, watching as his light sputtered and then regained its steady glow.
“To be fair, I’ve been here a lot longer than you have,” I said.
“Also true,” allowed my brother.
