Chapter 26 #2
Scáthach could only nod her agreement. Speaking the words, Yes, I wish she spent more time here, too, felt traitorous to Béfionn.
And then Scáthach bumped against the shadows that cloaked them and she halted, Cuchulainn at her side.
“They stopped moving?” he asked.
The extra sense her shadows shared with her pulled her gaze down to the black-sand shore. “Yes, because we’ve arrived at Curruid’s beach.”
They looked down at a shoreline littered with skeletons bleached white by time and salt.
“Those bodies didn’t reanimate? Are they being absorbed?” Cuchulainn shook his head. “I don’t understand what I’m seeing.”
“What you’re seeing are the remains of the living mortals who somehow tricked their way here to try to claim the Gáe Bulg as their own,” she said.
“Doesn’t appear any of them were successful,” he observed.
The shadows nudged them, veering off the high path to lead them down a steep offshoot trail that snaked in a descent to the beach.
They had to go single file. Cuchulainn led, his hand on the pommel of his sword.
Scáthach followed. She kept looking from the trail to the beach. She knew Curruid must lurk near.
When they reached the beach, Scáthach stopped. “It’s time I released the shadows,” she told Cuchulainn.
“Are you sure? Should you not keep within their cover while I deal with the monster?” he asked.
She lifted one tawny brow. “Because I’m so frail and delicate and cannot possibly protect myself?”
Cuchulainn snorted. “Hardly. You’ve bested me how many times now? I just meant—”
“I know what you meant and no. I will not stand back while you battle a monster.” She sent him a narrow-eyed glare before she lifted her arms. Gently, she caressed the shadows that cloaked them.
They were like mist and fog, smoke and cloud.
They played around her hands, reminding her of when she was a little girl and she’d first begun calling them.
They’d been her friends then; they were still her friends, her companions, her protectors.
“Thank you for your guidance, your warmth, and your protection, my loyal shadows,” Scáthach said.
“I release you with gratitude and love.”
Like morning dew dispersing beneath the warmth of sunlight, the shadows faded.
The last to go were those wrapped around her hands.
They, too, drifted away, but at the edge of her vision she could still glimpse them tucked against the steep bank where it met black sand, waiting should she have need of them again.
Scáthach shivered as the true temperature of the Winterlands hit her. Thankfully the snow had stopped. For the moment no ice fell. It was as if the realm held itself still in a frigid pause.
“Do we have a plan to get Curruid to come to us?” Cuchulainn asked after the shadows had gone.
“I have a feeling we won’t need a plan. Look at the water.”
The Winter Sea had begun to bubble. It reminded Scáthach of the trails whales sometimes left in their wake, though the beast that emerged from the sea was definitely not a whale.
Its long snout appeared first. The lizard-like creature shot up and roared, revealing double rows of upper and lower fangs as it sprayed rancid water from its mouth.
It was so large Scáthach and Cuchulainn could have walked into that stinking maw without ducking their heads.
Its body was sinuous and almost serpentine, though its size was impossibly large for a snake.
Scáthach could only see part of its huge body.
Along the ridge of its spine were the same type of boney scutes her nursemaids had, except each of Curruid’s were as long as a sturgeon.
Its skin was covered with thick, dark scales.
She could just see its front fins and was shocked to note that they weren’t rounded but ended in webbed toes.
“Lugh’s balls! He’s huge!” Cuchulainn dropped his pack, unsheathed his sword, and took his shield from where it was strapped across his back.
Beside him, Scáthach hastily did the same.
They also stripped off their cloaks, which would be in their way during the battle.
“He has to be huge if one of his ribs will make a decent spear. At least we can be grateful that he’s bound by water.
Let’s check out spots along the beach. See where it’s shallow enough that we can lure him there. ”
Cuchulainn nodded shortly. “Then flank him and try to get him to expose his underbelly.”
“Or open that huge mouth again. If you ram your sword down his throat, I’ll strike up through it and try to slant mine into his brain.”
Together they jogged through the sand, giving the monster a wide berth as they headed to the water’s edge, looking for shallows.
The thing had stopped roaring and turned its massive head to follow their progress down the beach. And then, with speed and grace that belied it size, Curruid slithered from the water onto the beach.
“That’s bad,” said Cuchulainn.
“Very,” agreed Scáthach.
“What do we do?” Cuchulainn asked as they faced the beast.
“We kill it. Again.”
Curruid half slithered, half crawled toward them.
His red-eyed glare was surprisingly intelligent as it studied them.
Scáthach and Cuchulainn took their battle stances, raising their swords and shields.
And then the beast’s voice blasted through their minds, so loud, so deep, that they grimaced and staggered back.
“Give me what I most desire! That is the only way to possess the Gáe Bulg!”
“Gods! He speaks!” Cuchulainn said.
Scáthach stared at the creature. She lowered her sword and took one step toward it. Curruid’s red gaze skewered her. She dipped her head in a small bow. “I am Scáthach, Queen of Shadow, daughter of Béfionn. Tell us what it is you most desire and, if it is within my power, I will grant it you.”
“It cannot be told. It must be discovered. And it is within your power to grant, Shadow Queen.”
Curruid’s voice assaulted her mind but Scáthach did not flinch.
She studied the creature as it roared again and then struck at them.
She and Cuchulainn split up. They took turns in their deadly dance.
Scáthach rushed in to slice and jab, and when Curruid turned on her, Cuchulainn raced in to strike at the side of his throat, drawing a long line of scarlet.
But it didn’t seem to faze the sea monster.
Curruid lashed out, using his long, flat tail to whip around and strike at Cuchulainn, and though Cuchulainn hacked at the tail, he could not pierce the black scales that covered it.
Curruid struck and struck and struck at them. He caught Scáthach with his tail, throwing her across the beach several yards. In response Cuchulainn shouted his mighty battle cry and attacked the monster with such speed that he was forced back to be partially submerged in the Winter Sea.
“I’ve got an idea!” Scáthach called to Cuchulainn. “Try to keep him in the water!”
While Cuchulainn continued his furious attack, Scáthach turned her back to the sea, facing the Winterlands. “You have been so good to me,” she told the frozen realm. “I ask another boon . . .”
“Scáthach!” Cuchulainn yelled. “I can’t hold him much longer!”
The Queen of Shadow sheathed her sword, dropped her shield, and picked up the pole that had appeared at her feet.
She took the dagger from her waist and gripped the handle between her teeth to free her hands, which she positioned carefully on the pole.
Then she turned and raced toward the sea monster and the Hero of Ulster who battled him.
“Get ready! He’s going to show you his throat!” she shouted as she planted the end of the pole in the sand and leaped, arching up perfectly and landing on the monster’s boney back.
Scáthach moved with blurring speed. She took the dagger from between her teeth and plunged it into Curruid’s eye.
The monster bellowed in pain and tossed his enormous head back, dislodging Scáthach and throwing her into the frigid water behind him—and in doing so he exposed his neck to Cuchulainn, who quickly slit the creature’s throat.
Scáthach surfaced, sputtering and wiping hair and water from her face as she shivered and sloughed through the shallows to the beach while Curruid roared once and then collapsed, turning the black sand even darker with his blood.
She made her way around Curruid’s head to Cuchulainn.
Scáthach looked into the monster’s eye. She was surprised not to see rage but a deep sadness.
“Give me what I most desire. That is the only way to possess the Gáe Bulg.” The words echoed again through her mind while the light in the monster’s eye faded and then was snuffed out.
Cuchulainn headed down the beast’s side, raising his sword.
“What are you doing?” Scáthach asked him.
“Trying to find a soft spot so I can cut into him and pull out a rib before he reanimates,” said Cuchulainn.
“I think there’s more to it than that,” Scáthach began. “He wasn’t that difficult to kill. There are too many skeletons here. It should have been harder to—”
With a deafening roar, Curruid reanimated. He whipped his head around, jaws snapping with a sound like lightning splitting a tree as they missed Cuchulainn by only inches. And then the battle with the sea monster resumed.
The day progressed with a macabre rhythm.
They would kill Curruid, attempt to cut the monster open to retrieve the Gáe Bulg, Curruid would reanimate, the battle would resume.
And each time the sea monster collapsed with a mortal wound and lay dying, his deep voice echoed in Scáthach’s mind, “Give me what I most desire. That is the only way to possess the Gáe Bulg.”
When they killed him the sixth time, neither attempted to cut into the monster. They bent at the waist, gulping air, waiting for the thing to reanimate.
“We can’t keep doing this,” said Cuchulainn.
“I know. I’m not sure what to do.” Scáthach’s gaze went to where her shadows lurked nearby. “Perhaps we should retreat. Call the shadows to cloak us and rest.”