And laughed. “Oops, missed! You got in my way.”
He said only, “Shana.”
As he fell, as his sword clattered to the ground, he took Breen down with him. The hard fall cost Breen an instant, only an instant. But when she gathered herself to lash out, Shana blurred away.
Breen shoved up to her knees, pressed a hand on the wound and the blood spreading over Loren’s chest.
“I can help.”
But he gripped her wrist. “Poisoned, dark magicks. Too late.” A bloody froth foamed between his lips, and all she read in his eyes was sorrow. “I loved her, but I couldn’t save her.”
He died on the edge of the forest where the dark and the light clashed.
She wanted to weep, just weep and weep, but she made herself get up and push through to the light.
The castle didn’t burn, nor did the bridges, but the battle raged here, too. She lifted the sword, drew her power up. Whatever it took, she’d give.
Then whirled back when she felt the change in the air.
Yseult stood, her two-headed snakes coiled around her waist like a belt. Instinctively, Breen flung out light. Yseult met it with dark, so the opposing powers slapped, shot sparks, then merged into smoke.
Fog, silent, stealthy, crawled over the ground toward Breen. Heart pounding—but not with fear, no, not with fear this time—Breen burned it away.
“You used that trick before. It won’t work anymore.”
“Learned a few things, have you now?” Tossing her hair, Yseult began to circle. “And you think it’s enough? That you’re enough? You were created by Odran for Odran. That is your destiny.”
“No.” Eyes on Yseult, Breen reached deep for power. The sounds of the battle smothered into silence, and they stood alone. That, she knew, was Yseult’s illusion. “My destiny is to stop him. But I’ll start with you.”
“Such confidence! Such spirit.” Yseult flicked out. Breen felt the sting, like the bite of an angry wasp, on her cheek, but continued to reach. And wait.
“Why don’t you show me what you think you have? You’ve never been enough, and won’t be no matter what they tell you in their pitiful attempts to use you.”
Once again, Breen burned away the fog. “Then why do you keep trying to drug me?”
“Only to make it less painful for you, my sweet. I promised Marg I would lessen your pain right before I killed her. It’s all she asked of me.”
Her world wobbled. “You’re lying.”
“She fought bravely, but in her worry for you, not well. Nor did the one she took after Odran to share her cold and righteous bed.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Sure and you do. A cat’s a sly thing, and it’s said has nine lives. Well, this one used his last today. Gone now, they are, and the dogs feast on what’s left of your taoiseach. All dead and dying because of you. Take my hand now, and come with me, and Odran may spare the rest.”
It emptied her as the fog crawled closer, as Yseult held out a hand, as the snakes at her waist showed their fangs and hissed.
And it filled her, not with the cold, calculating power she’d sought, but volcanic rage.
“Go back to hell, and tell Odran I’ll send him after you.”
Not fire, not this time. Her fury burned too hot for mere flames. It shot out in bolts and daggers of hot, searing light. The fog folded in on itself and, scorching the ground, advanced toward Yseult, as did Breen.
Screaming in shock, in pain, Yseult called the wind to deflect the barbs, but they tore through and ripped into her flesh.
“I’ll end you,” Breen vowed. “I owe you a painful, terrible end.”
Eyes wild, bleeding from dozens of tiny wounds, Yseult swirled fog around her.
When Breen shredded it, she was gone.
“I will end you,” she said again, and, riding on rage, ran out of the forest to fight.
Two faeries charged her. She took the female first, as she looked stronger, and fisting her hand, Breen crushed her wings like paper. It gave the male just enough time to grab her arm, prepare for flight, before she turned the sword and jabbed backward, and into him.
But more came, and more, and even in her rage and fury she knew she wouldn’t be enough.
Roars sounded from above. Dragons and riders streaked across the sky from the west, and faeries flew in like a storm cloud behind them. Wings spread, Morena leaped off from behind Harken and, sword slashing, landed beside Breen.
“Alone?” She snarled it as she impaled an elf.
“There wasn’t time. Oh my God, Marco!”