Chapter 13 #2
‘You dare speak to me like that, slave?’ He snatches a ring of keys from a pouch at his belt and fumbles with them. ‘I’ll?—’
I laugh loudly. ‘You’ll what? You can do nothing to me. Fate will destroy you, and if it doesn’t, Fiana will!’
He jams the key in the lock then frowns as he turns it and realizes it was already open. ‘What?—’
Morgan lurches from the shadows and grabs Warrior, accidentally slamming him into the bars as his hands slip on the leather of Warrior’s tunic. It’s slick with the blood that covers him, I see now.
The clang of it echoes through the dungeon and I wince, my eyes flying to the main door as Warrior struggles. Morgan belatedly puts his hand over Warrior’s mouth so that he can’t call for help, and grunts as Warrior bites down on one of his fingers.
Morgan’s hands slip over Warrior’s clothes in the scuffle, unable to gain purchase to squeeze the life out of him.
All it takes is one small step forward.
I slide the knife through the bars, burying it into Warrior’s gut, and I twist my body to the side as Locke showed me, using the momentum to slice the blade across his belly in a move that Morgan taught me.
The surprise in his face as his eyes meet mine is more than a little satisfying as I pull the knife away.
He breathes out hard, ignoring the wound, and uses the bars of my cell to lever himself off them. Morgan’s foot catches on the uneven floor as he’s forced to step back, and falls, taking Warrior with him.
They tussle on the ground, and somehow, Warrior gets the upper hand. He has Morgan beneath him, and his hands circle Morgan’s great neck.
I open the door to my cell quietly.
‘There, you fuck!’ he snarls. ‘I’ll kill you as you did me!’
His laugh is maniacal. ‘But you’ll stay dead, Mountain!’
My hand takes the knife in a sure grip as Morgan tries unsuccessfully to pry the smaller fae’s thin fingers away. I turn the blade upward and stay at Warrior’s back, waiting for the opportune moment, and hoping it comes quickly because Morgan’s face is turning purple.
When Warrior leans down to spit in Morgan’s face, I strike.
I jump on him, grabbing him by the long hair at the crown of his head. I rip his head back and I slide the knife across his throat, with a quiet sound of fury, from ear to ear as deeply as I can.
Warrior gurgles, his hands unwinding from Morgan’s throat, and grasping at his own.
I let go and step away as Morgan gasps a breath and throws Warrior off. He gets to his feet and stamps on the fae’s chest with a crunch, crushing it.
He turns to me, and puts his forehead to mine. ‘Thank you, my fierce little human,’ he says, his voice hoarse.
He glances down and grins at the carnage, and I see a remnant of who he used to be; Mount Morgan, the killer of the black fights who reveled in death.
‘You slit his throat deep,’ he rumbles in approval. ‘Just as I taught you. Well done.’
I bask in Morgan’s praise as we stare down as Warrior.
He gurgles a little. His eyes are open and somehow still triumphant even as his blood spills across the rotten reeds covering the floor.
His guts are protruding from the hole I made in his stomach, but as we watch, they begin to move back into Warrior’s body and the wound starts to knit itself back together.
‘It’s not enough.’ I look up at Morgan. ‘He’s going to come back. He’s already healing.’
Morgan stares at him, his mouth twisting in annoyance more than anything else. ‘For fuck’s sake,’ he mutters. ‘Why won’t this bloody cunt just die?’
He grabs Warrior’s sword from its sheath and, in one swift arc, cleaves the fae’s head from his body. The gurgling stops, but I still stare dubiously at the severed pieces even though he’s at least quiet now.
‘You don’t think they’ll reattach?’ I point. ‘His guts are still moving.’
Morgan strides to the wall, ripping a torch from the sconce. ‘The problem is that we keep trying to kill him like he’s fae because he looks like one.’
Morgan thrusts the torch into the headless piece of Warrior, charring the place where his head used to be.
‘But he’s not. He’s Dark Realm through and through.’
He chars the head for good measure, though the other wounds seemed to stop healing as soon as he used the fire on the neck.
'Come back from that, you Dark Realm cunt,’ he snarls, throwing the torch on Warrior’s body and turning away.
He takes my hand and speaks to the villagers. ‘Those who are willing to fight, with me. The rest, stay behind us.’
We leave the dungeon, the people of Halsford in tow. I notice dead guards piled in darkened corners courtesy of Morgan and the villagers strip the weapons from them as we pass.
‘Come.’
Morgan leads us up the stairs to Fiana’s ballroom and I peer through the half closed door to find the court in complete disarray.
There’s open fighting between fae and human slaves.
There are fae guards dressed differently who seem to be attacking the members of Fiana’s court.
A fire is burning the banners that hang from the ceiling, and more than one Dark Realm creature is running around, attacking humans and fae indiscriminately.
‘Morgan?’
‘The Underhill,’ he says, relieved. ‘Don’t kill the ones in gray. We make our way to the courtyard on the other side. With any luck, the Harbinger is here, and she can open the Breach to send you all back to Halsford. Come.’
He opens the door and we begin to move through the chaos.
Fighting erupts around us almost immediately, a few of Fiana’s guards seeing us as easy pickings.
But the villagers are angry. They don’t wait to be attacked.
Twenty strong flank Tavish, using their numbers to overwhelm the few guards standing between us and the Ring on the other side.
There’s pandemonium. I keep my knife ready as I ensure no one is left behind, stabbing a fae lord who tries to hit me, just as a huge, black, wolf-like creature lunges for him, tearing into his throat.
I back away, putting myself between it and the others, but it doesn’t even look at me, just leaps away.
When I look behind, I see that some of the villagers are dead, but a quick survey of the bodies has me frowning at Morgan. The four who are on the ground are the ones who were standing with each other in the cells, Tavish’s men who beat me by the river.
I quirk a suspicious brow, and the glance he gives me in return is too innocent.
He killed them as soon as he had the chance. I know it.
I smile at him and he gives me a surreptitious wink. Time seems to stand still for a moment as we gaze at each other, but then he turns away to throw a fae guard into a group of human slaves who are armed with kitchen knives and are hacking at any fae master they can find.
'This way,' Morgan says, as we circumvent more of the battle.
We move quickly as more slaves join in the fighting and the Underhill gets the upper hand. We get to within twenty paces, but then a battalion of Fiana’s soldiers form a line between us and the courtyard we’re trying to get to.
Their swords are drawn. The villagers ready themselves to fight them for their freedom and Tavish takes the lead. They rush the soldiers, yelling and screaming. But, before the villagers can reach them, the entire enemy line falls. Every single one drops dead.
I look beyond them to see Lia standing in the archway in front of the Ring.
She beckons us. The people around me mutter to each other about the Harbinger’s power, and we run the rest of the way to the courtyard.
Once there, I see that the Breach is already open.
‘Go,’ Lia says. ‘It will take you directly back to Halsford. The village wards are down for now. If anyone comes after you, follow the river to the next valley. Gwen will be there. She, Drak, and Grim will keep you safe.’
The villagers don’t wait. They pile through, disappearing into the Breach.
‘So, the Council Five finally allowed you to come?’ I ask Lia.
She shakes her head. ‘Let’s just say that the political landscape in the Underhill changed drastically over the past two days. Hopefully for the better. Isbeth isn’t one to back down from a fight.’
‘Isbeth?’ Morgan asks. ‘But I heard she was gravely ill.’
Lia nods. ‘She was. But we think it may have been a poison being administered by a servant. Slowly. The servant was killed in a freak accident last week and Isbeth made a miraculous recovery. She’s back on the Council now, but the servant wasn’t working alone.
There’s more at work here. Anyway, Calder had used his leverage and the usual fears to lock the Underhill down, but Isbeth was able to sway the vote.
That’s how we’re here, and why we’re late.
I’m sorry that we weren’t able to help you before, my friend. ’
‘Don’t blame you,’ Morgan grunts. ‘Knew it had to be something to do with Calder. Coward that he is.’
The villagers are almost all through now. Tavish, at the back with his wife and babe, stops when he gets to us. He nods at me and Lia respectfully, and he takes Morgan’s hand in a friendly grip.
‘I was wrong about you, orc,’ he says to Morgan, then glances at me. ‘I was wrong about a lot of things.’
‘Wait!’
‘Please!’
Our eyes look to the voices and we see that a group of slaves has congregated at the archway. They look desperate and many are wounded. The ones with weapons seem to be protecting the weaker ones in the midst of them.
‘Don’t leave us. Please! We know you’re going to the Light. Take us with you. We beg you!’
Tavish looks at Dawn. She says nothing aloud, but her eyes speak volumes as she cuddles Taramel closer.
Tavish turns back to them, making his decision quickly.
‘Come!’ Tavish calls, and they begin to run for the Ring.
‘But they’re Dark Realmers,’ an older man in the line says. ‘We can’t. The laws…’
‘Fuck the laws,’ Tavish growls. ‘They’re humans like us. We can’t leave them here. We’ll find a way. We have to.’
It doesn’t take long for everyone to go though, and soon the last of them disappears into the Breach.