Chapter 43
A loud pound from Fhírinne’s door shook me awake, a ringing in my ears. I rubbed my eyes and blinked through the brain fog. “Gia? What the—”
“Get up, both of you,” she demanded, voice shaking.
Cillian sat up straight, buttoning his shirt with a yawn. “Talk about a shitty wake up call.”
“Yeah, well, it’s about to get a whole lot worse.” She sat down in front of us, Celine and Roxie bursting through the door behind. “I did an imprint reading on the Shroud, and we have to act. Now.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down,” Cillian said. “Fey isn’t ready yet, we can’t send her in without knowing how to protect herself, or she’ll—”
“If we don’t send her in now, she’ll never get another chance and Bethesda will win!
” Gia heaved a breath. “Malignant Manor is crawling with troops. Damn near impenetrable. All except one tiny loophole. Comparing last night’s reading to today’s, I don’t doubt they’ll find that gap in their defenses soon, and then—”
“All hope is lost,” I finished.
“Yeah.” Gia nodded. “Pretty much.”
The grim news settled around me like smoke, so thick it crowded my lungs.
I had to act. But … was I ready? Who was I kidding, of course I wasn’t ready!
But neither was the world, not for what Bethesda had planned.
I stood, straightened my unzipped dress, and looked over my friends.
For them, I’d make myself ready. For this family I had found amid the chaos.
My magic swam through my veins with urgency. “What do I have to do?”
Gia ran down a list of herbs with Roxie, who took to the kitchen and garden to collect all the materials we needed. Meanwhile, Celine and Cillian went over the plan with me.
“You’ll drink the mixture Gianna gives you first,” Celine explained. “That will ensure you remain undetected, keeping your heartbeat low enough the Shroud won’t be alerted of your presence.”
Cillian leaned in. “From there, I’ll cloak you, sneaking you in the back door. When we locate Bethesda, I’ll cause a distraction. Lead the Lores away from the scene. Then, you slide in. You must attack Bethesda head on, Fey. Don’t give her a chance to realize you’re there.”
“Ethereal magic,” Celine interrupted. “It’s the best way to combat Baneful. Go straight for the talisman. Don’t hesitate.”
My heart began to pound, a throb settling in my ears. Holy shit … I had one shot. One. If I missed, if the Lores caught up to Cillian or the Shroud announced my entrance, I’d fail. And the world—Cillian’s lips pressed against mine, ripping me from my thoughts.
He pulled back, hands firm on my cheeks. “You can do this, Fey. It’s in your blood. You are the key.”
Funny … I didn’t feel much like anything but a frightened child. But I nodded.
It was now or never.
The pitch-black of the Odious Forest wrapped itself around me, the nasty herbal mixture still chunky on my tongue.
I took stock of my surroundings, breathing in slow, repetitive breaths.
Sounds ricocheted all around. No eerie silence as before.
Instead, an orchestra of beastly growls, metal clashes, and screams made me clap my hands over my ears.
Block it out, in fear my feet would never take another step.
Then fingers laced through mine.
“It’s okay,” Cillian whispered. “They can’t see you. I’m right here.”
He took a step, a gentle request for me to follow.
Gia had given me the exact coordinates to the Manor, claiming if I focused hard enough, I could will my soul into that exact spot.
As we rounded over that hill—my hand growing numb from how hard it squeezed Cillian’s—it became clear how right she’d been.
Malignant Manor peeked through the trees ahead, covered from top to bottom in the foulest creatures.
Red eyes, razor teeth, scales and gills.
Creatures both large and small, hanging from banisters, clawing atop the roof.
One thing they had going for them? Consistency.
They were like a solid wall, their bodies mere feet from the next wicked creature: all attention set on the forest. Like they knew we were coming.
My feet froze as I mumbled, “Something feels … off.”
Cillian put a finger over his mouth.
Right. Cloaking spells could only conceal so much.
Speak too loudly, and someone—or something—would discover us.
I followed him a step closer, though my gut told me to run, flee.
Baneful magic though, it had that effect—repelling all things around it, save for its own likeness.
The cool metallic sting of my own inner shadows twitched as I grew nearer, like calling to like.
I swallowed hard, forcing my feet to act. Move.
The nearer we drew to the manor, the louder my pulse clapped.
Upon stepping through the warded statues, Cillian motioned for me to stop.
He searched the scene, eyes cascading across the numerous beasts until we found our next opening.
When he’d confirmed they remained oblivious as ever, he motioned for me to lead on.
The stench wafted about us as we slunk and ducked through the crowd, careful not to arouse attention.
Putrid hints of blood, sweat, and something altogether more vulgar—though I couldn’t place it—stung my eyes.
I held my breath, but never long enough to warrant a gasp.
No sound. No sudden moves. Slow and steady would win the race. Or, at least, I hoped so.
When we finally made it to the back porch, my heart fell into my toes.
There, standing in plain view with a cocky grin, was Deception.
He didn’t bother to wear his glamour, not in the presence of his army.
Seeing him so unbothered, eyes wide and wild as if he were merely waiting for a fight, made my blood boil.
I felt my magic begin to rear up inside, demanding I strike him down right then, when a strange sizzle caught my ear, and Cillian poked me with his free hand, pain in his eyes.
I followed his gaze down. Flames of my own creation nipped at his fingers, blisters beginning to show through already.
I called my magic back in, recentered myself, and flashed him an apologetic glance.
A single snap brought me back to the task at hand.
Deception’s snap. A lesser Lore appeared at his side in an instant.
“Yes, my lord,” the lizard-creature half Deception’s size said, their extra-wide mouth packed with rows of teeth.
Deception kicked his head back, sniffed the air, tongue sliding in and out. “Do you smell that?”
The reptilian creature mimicked his action. “Smells like … like—”
“Magic. Elemental magic.” A grin pushed at the scales along his cheeks, gills I’d never seen before opening on the sides of Deception’s neck as he inhaled sharply. His hooves clicked down the stairs, pausing on the bottom step not a foot from our position.
“My love,” he sang in a mocking tone. “Is that you? I can smell your magic a mile away, you know.”
I looked to Cillian, the terror rising in my chest threatening to undo me. He shook his head, squeezed my hand harder, and motioned for me to relax my shoulders. A few moments passed, neither the Lore or ourselves moving a muscle, until another strange creature came barreling onto the scene.
“My lord,” it said and bowed before Deception. “There’s been a disturbance in the south woodlands. Magic, Tinctured, but none of us can seem to locate the source!”
I couldn’t help but smile. Gia. She might not have been able to physically enter the Shroud again, but her aura certainly could. A distraction: right when we needed it most.
Deception snarled, taking one final look in our direction before shoving the messenger toward the woods. “Lead me to it, you fool.”
With Deception gone—half the yard’s creatures following behind him—it was as good a time as any to get inside.
Hand in hand we walked up the stairs, through the back door, and into that same living room I’d seen before.
The room sat still, untouched by soldiers or anyone really, for that matter.
The room was the same as I remembered: empty and clean. Too clean.
I took a step in, half prepared for an ambush, but there was no one.
Not in the hall of faces. Not in the adjoining rooms. Nowhere.
When I nudged the door to the Sandmen’s office open, I understood why.
There, in all their horrific glory, loomed the Ancient Lores.
At their center, Bethesda stood, her hands cast toward the voided ceiling, fresh blood dripping from her fingers.
She chanted a spell that chilled my very soul before casting a broken crow carcass into the bubbling cauldron in the fireplace.
In a burst of squawking and frantic motion, a creature covered in feathers with eyes so human it unsettled me came clawing back out.
It collapsed on the floor, convulsed as it began to grow.
When it reached its full height—a solid six foot, easy—it cracked its neck, bowed before the room, and walked right past us, out into the yard.
Soldiers. She was quite literally creating an army!
“You see,” Bethesda said with a smirk. “We need not waste our time with recruitment. When one soldier falls, why, I’ll simply create another. And another. They are disposable, you see. Easy to manipulate should you find yourself in need of a shield or protection.”
A Lore I hadn’t yet seen—shoulders pinched together with long spikes careening down its spine—nodded.
“You are wise,” it said, voice deep enough to rattle the bones. “But not as wise as I. Never as wise as I.”
Bethesda rolled her eyes. “Yes, Pride. We all know there are none better than—”
“Than I,” he barked, talons tap-tap-tapping against one another.
Cillian pulled my arm, motioned toward the group. Too many, he mouthed.
And he was right. But, if we turned away, left this opportunity behind, there’d be no winning.
Bethesda would kill her way through my friends and loved ones, burn everything I cared about to the ground until I crumbled and gave her the bloodstone.
Then, she’d cover the world in darkness.
That was not a future I was willing to chance coming to fruition.
I motioned for him to step into the hall and looked about, pressing my lips to his ear.
“Lead them south toward Gia’s distraction. You two can meet up, keep them busy. I’ll snag Bethesda’s talisman and meet you there.”
“Fey, I—”
“We have to.” I pressed my lips against his, hard and demanding.
If this were to be our last moment together—which it very well could—I needed him to know how much I cared about him.
How deeply he had buried himself in my heart and the lengths I was willing to go to protect the bond between us.
Our kiss softened as I dropped his hand from mine, and whispered, “I love you.”
“I love you too …” He forced a smile, eyes pleading. “Come back to me.”
“Always.”
With a final brush of his thumb across my bottom lip, he cracked his knuckles and headed toward the Lores. One clap and his entire body erupted into flames. Smoke billowed from his fingertips as he stepped into the room.
“Come and get me, cowards,” he screamed before hurling three synchronized flames straight for them.
They hissed as the fire hit home, smoke clawing at their throats. I studied him in all his vicious glory, amazed by his full power. He truly was incredible.
“You fools,” Bethesda screamed. “Are you just going to stand there and allow him to disrespect you like that? In your own home? After him!”
Cillian took off like a shot, Lores hot on his heels as he darted out the front door. Everything in me wanted to follow, to make sure he made it into the forest, but I had no doubt he would. He was strong, knew his magic backward and forward. He’d reach Gia. He’d be okay.
As for me, I had to focus.
I dared a step around the corner, peeked into the office to find it vacant, aside from a single stream of light coming from the door below the bookshelves.
Bethesda. With careful steps, I wound through the room, strange Sandmen creatures breaching in and out of the void, looming over my head.
They didn’t seem the least bit interested in me, for which I was thankful.
The nearer I drew to the door, the more the stone in my chest jittered.
It knew what came next: the threat I was about to face.
In turn, my Ethereal magic came forth, forcing my light and elements to rear to life.
Flame in one hand, light in the other, I took a deep breath.
It was time to end this bitch, once and for all.