Chapter 38
Lamorna found Mordred in the hall, a bowl of bloodied water before him. She wondered how long he’d been sitting there doing this and what he was trying to see. He picked up a bloody dagger and ran it across his palm again.
His lips moved soundlessly, breathing ragged between the words, and by the time Lamorna reached him, he was slumped in his seat, shoulders shaking. Sweat beaded his skin.
‘Mordred!’ she gasped, placing her hand on his forehead. ‘You’re burning!’
‘I’m alright,’ he said roughly, knocking her hand away. ‘Stop fussing.’
‘You can’t keep doing this,’ Lamorna said. ‘You’re hurting yourself.’
‘I need to find them, Lamorna,’ he mumbled, letting her push the hair back from his face. ‘I can’t see them – but you can, Elaine.’
The Red Sister stood at the end of the hall – Lamorna had not heard her come in. Elaine did not approach, lifting her chin. ‘What makes you think—’
‘They have the Treasures and somehow, those blasted things are keeping Arthur from my sight. I can’t find him in my dreams,’ Mordred said breathlessly.
‘If you cannot—’ Elaine began.
‘Don’t push me, Elaine,’ Mordred snarled. ‘You’re here because I’m tolerating you. If you can’t be of any use to me, then I’ll have you thrown out into the wastes. Let’s see what you’ll See then?’
‘Mordred,’ Lamorna whispered. ‘Please. She’s my friend.’
‘Then tell your friend to help me.’
‘I…’
‘I’ve already promised you I won’t harm your sister,’ Mordred said, lowering his voice. He sat up straighter, but he was shaken, his skin still warm and waxy. ‘Do you no longer trust me, Lamorna?’
She swallowed. ‘I trust you.’ It was a whisper. ‘Elaine—’
The Red Sister sighed and drew the short dagger she carried at her hip.
She came closer and Lamorna went to fetch Elaine some fresh water for her scrying, but Elaine ran the blade over one palm, then the next, turning both hands towards the ceiling, the dagger falling to clatter on the stones at her feet.
As blood pooled in her cut palms, a strange red mist rose from her hands.
Lamorna gasped. She had never seen Elaine work her magic.
That red mist began to form into shapes, twisting and shifting from one thing to the next.
Lamorna saw trees, a stream, more trees, then faces – Arthur, Ordes, Jenyfer.
They vanished and a map formed in the mist. Mordred leant forward eagerly as the map unformed and reformed, over and over, until it stopped and vanished.
It had happened too quickly for Lamorna to make sense of anything, but Mordred sat back, satisfied. He nodded to Elaine, and the red mist vanished. The Red Sister collected her dagger from the floor and wiped the blade clean on her robe, then swept from the room.
‘Do you know where they are?’ Lamorna asked him. She was trying to hold that red misty map in her mind.
Mordred smiled. ‘Closer than I thought. They are at the edge of the Redcana Forest. A few days walk from us.’
Lamorna swallowed. ‘What will you do?’
Mordred tapped his fingers on the table. ‘It’s time for something different.’
Mordred smiled as Bryn entered the hall.
Lamorna tensed. There was a feral gleam in Bryn’s eyes that hadn’t been there before.
He stood with a rigid spine and curled fists.
Lamorna could see a nerve twitching in his temple.
His beard was thick, the hair growing down his neck and he was dressed in a pair of filthy pants.
His feet and chest were bare – scars littered his torso.
He looked dangerous, different – changed.
The men who had brought him kept their weapons drawn, and Lamorna had no doubt that if Bryn moved wrong, they would slice him in two.
Calla was sitting beside Lamorna – they had been going over lists of supplies with Mordred and Elaine.
At the sight of Bryn, Calla paled and sucked in a sharp breath.
Lamorna leant close to Mordred. ‘Why is he out?’
‘Because I have a job for him,’ Mordred said simply.
He beckoned for Bryn to come closer. Lamorna bit her lip, her gaze sliding to the window.
The moon was not yet full, but it was close enough that the creature that lived beneath Bryn’s skin was trying to get out.
Lamorna’s own skin began to crawl with nerves.
‘Mordred, I don’t like this. Whatever you’re doing, I don’t like it.’
He ignored her, addressing Bryn. ‘The moon will be full tomorrow. You know what that means.’
Lamorna knew what it meant. The whole castle knew it.
They had all heard the screams last night as Bryn started to become…
whatever he was becoming. She swallowed, not daring to take her eyes from him.
Mordred had told her Bryn wouldn’t change fully for some time, but still, every muscle in her body was bunched tight.
She had known Bryn her whole life. She had watched him grow, following her sister around like a lost puppy.
She had watched him change, become the man the Chif and the Konsel had shaped him into.
She had watched him become bitter and twisted with hatred, with obsession.
Now he was changing again. His skin appeared to twitch and ripple, and he looked like he was in pain. Elaine thinned her lips in worry.
‘I want you to go to the Redcana Forest. Bring my cousin to me,’ Mordred told him. ‘Bring Arthur to me.’
‘What about the others?’ Bryn asked.
‘Kill them,’ Mordred told him.
‘No,’ Lamorna whispered, but if Mordred heard her, he didn’t acknowledge her words. He didn’t even look at her. ‘Mordred!’ Her voice rose; she grasped his wrist. ‘Mordred, you can’t.’
‘I can,’ was all he said before he shook her off and stood.
He approached Bryn, drawing his dagger as he went.
Lamorna could only watch helplessly as Mordred took hold of Bryn’s wrist. Bryn did not flinch as the blade bit into the skin of his palm.
Mordred repeated the action on himself. ‘Hold out your hand.’ Bryn eyed him suspiciously but did what he was told.
Lamorna watched the blood drip from Mordred’s palm to land in Bryn’s.
A strange hissing sound echoed around the room and Bryn’s eyes closed briefly, before flying open again.
His face spasmed. Lamorna gasped as a strange symbol appeared on Bryn’s chest as if cut into his skin by an invisible hand.
She couldn’t make out what it was – it looked like a Cruithean elemental glyph but distorted somehow.
Bryn dropped to one knee before Mordred and bowed his head.
‘Come,’ Mordred commanded. Bryn met Lamorna’s eyes – his lips curled cruelly before he stood and followed Mordred from the hall. The two Cruitheans at the door peeled away also, leaving Lamorna, Calla and Elaine alone.
‘What did Mordred do?’ Lamorna asked fearfully. She didn’t look at anyone. Her eyes remained fixed on the door and terror turned her blood to ice. She wasn’t sure she was breathing anymore.
‘Ancient magic,’ Elaine replied darkly. ‘Things he should not be messing with.’
‘What does it mean?’ Calla asked.
‘It means that changeling is bound to Mordred now,’ Elaine explained. ‘Whatever Mordred commands him to do, he will do, because he will have no choice.’
Understanding slammed into Lamorna’s head. She grasped Calla’s hand, her sister’s face in the space behind her eyes. ‘He… he…’ She choked back a sob. ‘He can’t!’
Calla was staring at the doors, her expression conflicted. ‘Surely he won’t,’ she muttered. ‘I mean… it’s your sister, Lamorna. I don’t… Mordred wouldn’t.’
‘I think you’ll find Mordred will do whatever he thinks he needs to get what he wants,’ Elaine declared. Her frown was deep. ‘This isn’t supposed to happen.’
Lamorna swallowed tightly. Her mouth was dry, tongue thick, her heart thundering like it would burst from her chest. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I didn’t See this,’ Elaine replied.
‘Well, what does that mean?’ Calla demanded. ‘You got it wrong?’
‘No,’ Elaine mumbled. ‘The Red One misjudged the depth of his desire and pain.’
‘Then get her to fix it,’ Calla said, while Elaine said she couldn’t make demands of her mistress. They argued softly, but Lamorna barely heard them, her eyes not moving from the door. In her mind, she saw Bryn standing over her sister’s broken body.
‘I need to warn them,’ she muttered. Calla broke off her argument with Elaine, turning to Lamorna, her face lined with worry.
‘Lamorna… if he finds out,’ she began.
‘I don’t care,’ Lamorna snapped. Her fists curled. ‘She’s my sister. I won’t let this happen. I won’t let Byrn… I need to fix this.’
‘How?’ Calla whispered.
Lamorna turned to Elaine, desperate.
Elaine said nothing, just stared at Lamorna with her milky eyes, before she nodded. ‘We will need to go somewhere we won’t be discovered.’
Lamorna nodded. ‘I know where. Follow me.’
She led the way beneath the castle, to where Firestorm lay. Calla shrank back at the sight of the dragon, but Lamorna’s heart swelled. She hurried over to the beast and rested her hand on its scaly side, breathing in deep the smell of sulphur and earth.
She left the dragon, leading Calla and Elaine to the centre of the cavern.
‘How does this work?’ Calla asked, one eye on the dragon.
Lamorna withdrew the dagger she carried at her hip, running the blade over her palm.
Calla winced but said nothing as Elaine dipped her fingers in Lamorna’s blood.
The seer was muttering, strange words that Lamorna once again tried to hold onto, but, like every time she’d heard them, they would not stay in her mind.
A red mist rose around them. Calla gasped and stepped back as shapes took form and they were staring at Jenyfer’s face.
‘Lamorna? What—’
‘Jen, he’s sending Bryn after you,’ Lamorna said quickly.
Her sister’s face froze. ‘I’m supposed to be scared of him, am I?’
‘You don’t understand,’ Lamorna said. ‘He’s not… he’s not Bryn anymore. He’s changed. He will do what Mordred has asked. He’ll catch Arthur and kill the rest of you.’
‘I’d like to see him try,’ Jenyfer hissed. She turned her head and said something in a low voice to someone near her. Ordes, Lamorna guessed.
‘If that’s Ordes, tell him…’ Lamorna said. ‘Tell him to do whatever he needs to do.’ She swallowed. ‘Tell him if he lets you die, I’ll kill him,’ she added, her mind shifting to Melodias’ sword, resting against the wall in her room. An almost-god was the same as a God, wasn’t it?
Jenyfer’s eyes widened. Someone laughed, soft and deep, and then Ordes was there, and Lamorna could see his face.
She gasped. She’d never seen anyone so clearly except for Jenyfer when using the blood magic like this.
Faces were usually blurred around the edges, like she was peering through water, but Ordes’ features were sharp, as if he was standing in front of her. She looked at Elaine, confused.
The Red Sister shrugged. ‘What is my magic against the magic of the Gods?’
Ordes was frowning. ‘Tell me about Bryn,’ he demanded.
Lamorna could feel Ordes’ magic, even through the portal.
It flowed over her and she shivered, wondering why she could feel it at all.
She swallowed and told him everything she knew about what had happened to Bryn.
Guilt crept through her, but she pushed it aside. She would not let Bryn kill Jenyfer.
‘Kill him,’ Lamorna whispered furiously. ‘I know she told you what he did to her.’
Ordes said nothing for a long time, then, ‘Thank you for the warning, Lamorna.’
And they were gone.
Elaine gasped and dropped to her knees. Firestorm snorted. Calla tutted and put her hand on Elaine’s forehead.
‘She’s hot,’ she declared. Elaine batted Calla’s hand away and stood.
‘I don’t think you need to worry about your sister’s safety,’ she said simply.
‘But Bryn—’ Lamorna began.
Elaine laughed. ‘Born between the worlds, outside of both, Ordes is not even a man at all, like his father. He’s something else.’
‘What does that mean?’ Calla asked.
‘It means that Mordred is more of a fool than I thought he was – if he truly wished to stop what was coming, he’s concentrating on the wrong person,’ Elaine answered.