Chapter 64 #2
The water was oddly warm and thick, reminding Jenyfer of the water in Medb’s cave.
She let her lungs open, feeling something slice its way across the sides of her neck.
Shaking, she reached up to touch her throat, recoiling.
She had gills! They fluttered beneath her fingers as she breathed.
Her eyes adjusted to the gloomy dark of the river – rocks littered the riverbed, but there was nothing living down here.
Jenyfer let the heartfire guide her through the blackness, the strange water caressing her scaled skin.
The urge to hurry thrummed in her blood alongside the magic of the Singing Stone.
She knew when she had reached the pool in her father’s throne room. Ghostly hands reached for her, closing around her limbs, their grip desperate.
‘I can’t help you,’ Jenyfer mumbled. With a shudder, she remembered the moment he’d drawn a ghost from that water and asked Jenyfer to practice her magic.
Fractured light crept through the darkness. Jenyfer kicked her way towards it. Her head broke the surface, and she struck out for the edge of the pool immediately. A chuckle echoed through the cavern.
‘Well,’ Melodias crooned. ‘This is interesting. Back again?’
Jenyfer climbed from the black water, pushing her dripping hair over her shoulders.
The gills on her neck snapped shut and her scales slipped away.
Andromache was standing at the base of the dais.
Her lips pulled back from her teeth in a snarl, but before she could do anything, Melodias rose from his throne.
He said nothing for a long moment. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘I see.’
‘How do I get to the Otherworld?’ Jenyfer demanded.
Her father rolled his eyes and sighed. ‘You expect me to tell you that?’
‘Do I keep swimming or do I need to find the Bag Noz?’ Jenyfer asked. ‘Just tell me!’ Her voice ricocheted off the walls of the cavern, filled with anger and grief, dripping with every one of her human emotions.
Melodias tapped his chin. ‘He did leave the door to my realm open a crack.’
‘He did?’ Jenyfer whispered.
‘He’s not as stupid as I thought,’ Melodias mused. He gestured to the black river. ‘Without passage to the Otherworld, what would happen to the souls of the dead, Jenyfer?’
‘So I was right. I can get to him?’ Jenyfer breathed. ‘I can get to the Otherworld?’
‘Perhaps,’ her father said.
She shook her head, glaring at him. ‘You told me my humanity was my weakness,’ she said. ‘But your lack of humanity is yours, Melodias. You have no idea what it means to love another, to give yourself wholly to another person, to let them shape who you are and let them inside every part of you.’
He said nothing, and she had the sense she had rattled him somehow. But he was still standing between her and Ordes.
‘How do I get to Ankou’s realm?’
‘You need the Bag Noz.’ It was Andromache who spoke. Melodias cast her a look of deep betrayal. The syhren shrank from him, moving closer to the steps of the dais, as if she could disappear into them.
‘Call the Night Boat,’ Jenyfer demanded of her father. ‘Ophine is not answering me.’
He shook his head, eyes blazing. ‘For once, I’m not interfering and you shouldn’t either. Ordes is messing with the fabric of the world. Does he even know what he’s doing?’
With a scream of frustration, Jenyfer drew the sword at her hip and levelled it at her father. Melodias smirked, but as his eyes fell on the sword, his expression shifted from amusement to fear.
‘Where did you get that?’
Jenyfer frowned. ‘It’s yours, isn’t it? This is the sword you gave to Mordred? He’s dead, in case you care.’
Melodias’ laugh was brittle. ‘You should put that down before you hurt yourself.’
Jenyfer took a step closer to her father. ‘Right now, you’re standing between me and Ordes, and if you don’t get out of my way, I’ll run you through with your own blade.’
Melodias stared at her.
‘Move!’ she screamed, lifting the sword. When he didn’t, Jenyfer thrust the weapon forward.
‘No!’ Andromache shouted, but it was too late.
The tip of the sword bit into Melodias’ side. He stumbled, all the colour bleeding from his face in an instant, leaving him corpse-pale. He laughed then dropped to his knees, one hand pressed over his wound.
Jenyfer rolled her eyes. ‘Are you seriously that dramatic?’
Andromache raced across the cavern and dropped to her knees beside Melodias. She stared up at Jenyfer in horror. ‘What have you done?’
‘He’ll be fine,’ Jenyfer snapped.
‘You don’t understand,’ the syhren whispered. ‘That’s his sword. It was meant for Merlin…’
Jenyfer swallowed. ‘It’s just a sword.’ She paused.
Blood, black as ink, flowed from the wound in Melodias’ side.
Too much blood for a flesh wound. He fell backwards, Andromache’s slender arms snaking out to break his fall, catching him before his head smashed on the damp stones. His chest rose feebly.
Jenyfer stared at the weapon in her hands, at the blood coating the edge of the blade. ‘It’s just a sword,’ she repeated.
‘It can kill a god!’ Andromache screamed.