The Darkest Night Page 16

  Chapter 14

  Inés sat on the edge of the mattress, watching Bram sleep with appreciation. She had finally managed to get Ameena to leave her alone for five minutes. The girl was always hanging around, scowling at her and guarding Bram like a rabid Doberman. She considered putting a spell on her and getting her to fall for Jean-Pierre. If she did the same to him, it would be two birds with one stone. Yes, she would have to think about it.

  She watched the strong chest rise and fall, and reached out a hand, trailing it delicately through the scattering of coarse hair on his chest, down towards his navel.

  Two large brown eyes snapped open and Bram scrambled away from her, sitting up with his back pressed hard against the wall. He was breathing fast, his expression one of absolute horror.

  Inés laughed, delighted by his terror. “Oh, le pauvre, did the nasty witch scare you?” she asked, chucking him under the chin like a little boy.

  Bram scowled at her, obviously trying to regain his composure. “I would be a simpleton indeed if I were not to take note of the stories I have heard of you, my lady,” he said, his tone rather terse now. He inclined his head with a smile but the derision in his eyes told her clearly that lady was not a word he would employ on her behalf with anything but sarcasm.

  Inés held his gaze, a slow smile spreading over her mouth. “Wise man,” she said, staring at him. “I’d tell you not to believe the gossip, but in all honesty ...” She leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “It’s probably true.”

  “I thought you were giving him some medicine or something?” An irritated voice came from the doorway and Inés snorted at the relief in Bram’s eyes. As if one foolish girl could save him.

  “Oh, but I am.” Inés turned and gave Ameena her most innocent expression. “We were just chatting.” Putting her head on one side, she considered Ameena. “Anyone would think you were jealous?”

  Ameena raised one eyebrow. “Oh, please. Did Jean-Pierre say you were six hundred or six, I can’t remember? Believe me, I’d happily leave you two to get better acquainted, but I would never throw a lamb to the wolves, and I don’t approve of rape.”

  Inés looked at Bram with amusement. “She’s calling you a lamb. Are you not one of the wolves, then?” she mocked, well aware that he knew what she was talking about.

  He looked back at her, his face a mask, refusing to be drawn. “Did you have some medicine, Inés, or did you just come to try and give me nightmares?”

  She smiled, perfectly placid and quite unperturbed as she handed him the little bottle she had prepared. “Voila, it will only last eight to ten hours and then I will have to make you another batch.”

  “What?” He took the bottle from her, frowning as he realised the implication. “Then you had best make me enough for a few days at least. How long before the poison leaves my system?”

  Inés shrugged, knowing this was her way into the Fae Lands. She had to get a message to Corin on her granddaughter’s behalf, and apart from anything else, she was eager to see the delicious prince again. “It is impossible to be sure, but a good few days, I would think, and no, I can’t make you a batch. The power diminishes from the moment it is made. Anything I make now would be useless by tomorrow.”

  Bram shook his head, knowing as well as she did what she wanted. “No. No you will not come through the gates. Gods, bringing a witch into the Fae Lands? Corin would have my head on a platter.”

  Inés nodded and patted his arm, giving him a gentle smile. “Ça va, don’t get all worked up about it. If you don’t want me to come, I won’t.” Then her expression and her smile hardened as she knew he didn’t have choice in the matter. “How are you feeling, by the way?”

  He cursed her, the words angry and frustrated as he damned the gods, and Inés knew she’d won. The lead in his system was stealing his vitality and she doubted he’d make it much past the front door, let alone defend Jean-Pierre from whatever danger the boy was in. He needed her, like it or not. Though she didn’t doubt he feared Corin’s anger. Bringing one of the most powerful witches on earth into the Fae Lands was not something he would take lightly. Once she was there, however, she would do what she could to change his mind.

  ***

  Anaïs clung to Dannon; even though they had said goodbye countless times, she just couldn’t let him go.

  “Promise me you will be careful,” she begged with terror in her heart. The desire to hold him tight and keep him safe, far away from the battle, warred with her pride in him, with the knowledge that he had to do this because it was the right thing.

  Dannon kissed her forehead and smiled down at her. “I have promised you five times this morning at least. All will be well, my love. You just concentrate on keeping yourself safe,” he added, his own fears glinting his those dark eyes now.

  Anaïs nodded. It wasn’t as if either of them had a choice. “I know, and I will, but I’m afraid.” She buried her face in his chest, breathing in the scent of him. “This place is wicked, it’s all so terribly wrong and it’s making my skin crawl. I don’t want you anywhere near here.”

  He sighed and smoothed the hair back from her face. “Anaïs, if I could, I would have you far from here, too, but we cannot sit back and ignore this ... can we?”

  “Non,” she mumbled before reaching up and kissing him as though she would breathe him in. Dannon kissed her back, pulling her so close he stole the breath from her lungs, and then, with one last longing look, he released her and left her alone. She brushed the tears from her eyes and took a deep breath. There would be time enough for tears when the battle was done. She walked to the opening of the large tent that would serve as hospital on this dark day, and looked out.

  It was still night, though she could see the flickering of torch lights as the men moved back and forth, readying themselves for what was to come. The atmosphere was loaded with silent emotions, every movement heavy with the weight of knowing this could be the last morning, the last sunrise, the last word spoken.

  Anaïs caught her breath as an astonishing light lit up the darkness and she saw Corin cross the field in front of her. He had always shone with power to her eyes, a soft, golden light that caressed her senses. Now, however, she found the light to be dazzling, and turned away as it began to hurt her eyes. Before now, the light had drawn her, pulling her to him like a moth to a candle flame, but now it was too bright, too powerful ... now, it made her afraid. He blazed, a beacon in the darkness, and she saw the soldiers look to him, could feel the change in the camp, a buzz of excitement and confidence as he gave a word of greeting and joked with those who were bold enough to address him. Anaïs jumped as she felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned to see her grandfather standing behind her.

  “Have you ever seen anything like that before?” she asked as they watched the glimmering light moving in the dark.

  “No,” he said, his voice hard. “Never.”

  “He scares me,” Anaïs admitted, looking up to see her own fears reflected in his eyes.

  Caelum looked down at her and nodded. “As well he should.” When he spoke again, his words made her skin prickle with foreboding. “There are legends … about The Bright King,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. He stopped, clamping his mouth shut and shaking his head.

  “What?” Anaïs demanded, shaken by the anxiety in his expression.

  “Nothing,” he said, his voice firm as he turned and pointed at her. “You must forget I said anything, and for the love of the gods, do not repeat it to anyone.”

  “About the Bright King?” she asked, confused as to what on earth he was talking about and why he looked so unsettled.

  “Hush!” His rugged face was fierce in the torchlight. “Words have power, Anaïs. If a man does not know his destiny, would he take the same path? Prophecies are dangerous things: once known, a man will work towards it or run from it, rightly or wrongly. Far better to leave fate to its own devices.” Anaïs stared back at him in alarm, the sense of foreboding growing every mo
ment. Caelum’s face softened and he put his hands on her shoulders, his voice gentler now. “Do you understand, my dear?” She nodded, though she didn’t, and he gave her a grim smile. “Then let us prepare for the day ahead. There will be many for us to practice our skills on in a very short time, I fear.”

  ***

  Corin shivered as freezing rain trickled down the back of his neck. The cold had permeated him to his core already, and he wondered if he would ever be warm again. It was still dark, though the first tentative traces of daylight could be seen on the horizon. The new day seemed to hover, nervous to show itself from behind the hills at their backs, as though it were well aware of what was to come and was trying to delay. He focused his attention on it, willing it to hurry; waiting was making him nerves leap as all his fears played upon his mind. Now that this day was upon him, he wanted to get on. He wanted this over, once and for all, to be rid of the guilt that weighed him down, though he suspected he would never be free of it. He could spend the rest of his days making amends, but Auberren had somehow brought his lands to the brink of what they could bear, and if Corin lost today, the rest of Fae would follow soon enough. He should have acted sooner.

  Even if he won, he would never be free of that guilt.

  Corin looked over at Laen, who was speaking with some of his men, giving last-minute instructions. The guilt magnified, swirling in his gut, making him sick to his stomach. Laen would know soon. He would know that he would not inherit his father’s reign, would never be king. Corin closed his eyes, feeling the icy rain stinging his face, and wished with all his heart it wasn’t true, but Laen would never be powerful enough to take his lands back, no matter how much Corin wanted to give them to him.

  Laen was a good man, a powerful warrior, and a great leader, but the land chose the one with the greatest magic and the ability to wield it. He wouldn’t stand a chance. Corin squashed the concern that Laen would try and stand against him. He wasn’t foolish enough for that. He had Océane and his child to think of now, after all. He would not leave them for a dramatic gesture that could only result in his death. His father, however, the present king ...

  “One problem at a time,” he muttered, then dragged his thoughts back to the here and now.

  “It’s the first sign of madness, you know.”

  He jolted in surprise to find Laen standing close behind him, his white-blonde hair plastered to his head and rain running down his face in rivulets. “What’s that?” he asked, shaken to see Laen beside him after what he’d just been thinking about.

  “Talking to yourself, it’s the first sign,” he said, grinning at him, apparently over his earlier outburst as Corin had predicted.

  Corin snorted; as first signs of madness went, he’d figured he’d passed that milestone some years previously. “What’s the last?” he asked, his tone dry.

  Regarding him with a thoughtful expression, Laen shrugged. “Probably intending to bring down a wall that’s forty five miles long and over a hundred feet high, around a city filled with people who want to kill you.” He laughed at Corin’s unamused expression and shook his head. “But that’s just a guess.”

  “Thank you so much.” Corin rolled his eyes and looked away, trying hard not to see the words illustrating his own guilt flickering under Laen’s skin. He could feel those words, hot and heavy and uncomfortable, searing in his heart; he didn’t need to see them, too. He felt a hand grasp his arm as Laen turned him back to face him.

  “What is it?” he asked, his worried dark eyes searching Corin’s face. “Are you concerned?”

  “Of course I’m bloody concerned, you damn fool!” Corin shouted, his emotions getting the better of him. “There are thousands of men here who may lose their lives if this goes wrong. There are women and children in the city ...” Corin stopped and shook his head before he lost his grip on himself entirely. He rubbed his eyes; they were stinging, burning uncomfortably in his head and he looked down at his hands, the poisonous feeling of the air against his skin worse than it had ever been. He spread his fingers and held his hands out, seeing them tremble as his eyes widened and the truth dawned on him. With horror, he realised exactly what that poison was.

  “Corin,” Laen continued, not realising as Corin did what it was they were facing yet. “We’ve been over this. It’s the only way. We will do everything we can to save lives, but we have no choice now. You know this.”

  Corin nodded, his guts churning with real terror now as he forced the words out. “Yes, Laen,” he said, his voice rough. “I know, but it’s going to be bad, far worse than we could have known.”

  “What do you mean?” Laen demanded, the concern growing in his eyes as he stared at Corin and correctly interpreted the fear in his eyes.

  “I mean that I’ve been standing here wondering what the hell he could have done to cause such damage, and now I know. I know what he’s been doing. Just as I have been running from my fate for decades, he has known it was coming. He listened to all those rumours and prophesies about me, Laen, and he’s known for a long, long time that sooner or later, I would come. He’s been preparing for it.”

  Laen frowned and stepped closer, lowering his voice. “What do you mean?” he asked. “Preparing how?”

  “Can’t you smell it?” Corin asked, incredulous that the stench that was now drifting on the wind from Aos Si and making his skin burn could go unnoticed. What Auberren had done was beyond comprehension and their army could not stand against it; they would be cut down where they stood and the Fae Lands would be destroyed.

  Laen stopped and lifted his nose to the air. “Yes,” he admitted, frowning with distaste. “There is something, I noticed it last night but I don’t know what it is. It just smells ... bad, dirty.”

  “It’s weapons, Laen, weapons and chemicals. He knows he cannot stand against my magic and so he has brought human weapons to our world, and he intends to use them against us.”

  The volley of expletives that Laen uttered at this was drowned out by a screaming, whistling sound that shrieked though the air. The explosion rocked the ground at their feet. Horses screamed and reared, and men cried out as shrapnel flew, cutting through flesh and shattering bones far and wide around the massive crater.

  For a moment, all was pandemonium as shells exploded around them and machine gun fire cut down swathes of men, dead before they hit the ground as the bullets tore through them, the slightest wound as deadly as the most fatal as it poisoned their systems.

  Corin clutched his head and fell to his knees as the land screamed in his mind. Screamed and cried for her children whose blood and bones broke over her own ravaged body.

  “Get the men to fall back!” Laen yelled as an explosion sent debris raining down over them. He grabbed hold of Corin and hauled him to his feet, but Corin stood and twisted away, his face contorted with pain and fury. “No! No more!” He turned to Laen and shouted with rage. “Get back ... get away, all of you.”

  “Corin!”

  “Get back!”

  Corin stumbled forwards, slipping in the mud as bombs exploded all around him. With mounting horror and disbelief, he watched as a creeping green smoke slithered over the land, crawling like a poisonous snake, its jaws ready to devour any who got close. He could hear the screams of his men now, their skin burning and their lungs bubbling as they drowned on their feet. Bombs shattered the landscape and their blood and bodies scattered over the fields like the gods casting out some terrible crop from the sky, and Corin felt a blind fury overtake him like nothing he had known before. He sank to his knees as the world exploded around him, the noise ringing in his ears as screams echoed through his head, and he thrust his hands into the soil.

  “I’m here!” he raged, screaming the words out. “I’m here where you wanted me, so give me your power now and I will bring this world down around him,” he promised, knowing he would do anything to make this right. “I will make him pay!” He cried out as the power surged through the earth to his fingertips, and he flung his hands
wide as the ground began to tremble.

  ***

  In the dim light of the dawn, a light, fiercer than a desert sun, blazed on the battle ground. Weapons of every description found their target and took careful aim, but the light cut through everything; nothing could pierce it as the foundations of the city rocked under their feet.

  Laen stared, his eyes registering the scene but unable to comprehend it. Before him lay the bodies of men who had died before they could even scream in pain, but now he watched the massive wall surrounding the city as it trembled. Cracks appeared between the vast stones and moved with gathering speed, the pattern crazed along fortification like the surface of old china. He saw the top of the wall as the first stones began to fall and the distant figures of the soldiers as they ran from the parapets, abandoning weapons as their great guns toppled over the edge and smashed to the ground.

  Laen got to his feet, knowing this was the moment Corin had promised would come. He yelled orders to his men, instructing them to regroup. The wall was coming down and they would take the city ... no matter the cost.

  Chapter 15

  Bram watched in the light of Jean-Pierre's torch as Ameena stowed the key to the cottage. She placed it with care under the rock where it had been for the past however-many years, and he rolled his eyes in amusement. One good kick would bring that worm-ridden door down, key or no. She turned and picked up her rucksack and he looked from her to Jean-Pierre to the damned witch, and knew that even if he ever managed to get this lot safely to Claudette, Corin and Laen would make him suffer for the rest of his days.

  They all glowered back at him. He had just given them a talk in which he had stated, in no uncertain terms, that his word was law, they would do as he said and when he said it, and if they didn't like it, they could go to hell or stay here and do as they pleased, as far as he was concerned. As an effort at team-building, it had worked beautifully. Now, at least, they were all united in one common cause.