Guardian of the Moon Pendant (17 page)

She just ignored me, her fingertips lingering on Blane’s
muscular
bicep as she pulled away, getting her extra cop-a-feel. “I see you charged the pendant,” she said flatly, rattling the metal lock, checking to see if it was securely bolted.

“Especially with your new lover boy the Bloody Baron!”
I added, my fingers tinkling a wave at the imprisoned Bloody Baron below. “Hello, Baron.”  His beastly hand shot through the metal gate, flaring his razor sharp fingernails out at me, catching me off guard, and I tumbled onto the chilly stone floor.

“Really?”
Izzy replied.

I pulled myself up, smoothing out the wrinkles in my long skirt.  “You two would make a lovely couple.”

“Listen here, sistah!” Izzy said with
an
I
’m gonna tell you how it is
tone to her voice, whirling her skinny finger around in my face.
“Of the two MacAlpin’s standing here in this tower and in all of Scotland.
I’m the one who’s never been arrested.”

My body stiffened up. I was infuriated that she brought up my arrest, especially in front of Blane of all people.

“And for hitting another girl!” she blurted out loud. “I have more sense than that!”

“Hilda deserved it!” I spat.

“Who’s Hilda?” asked Blane.

Both of us ignored Blane. We were too consumed in our own world.

“Don’t think I forgot what you did,” I said with my fists planted on my hips.

“What?” Izzy remarked, her lips pinched to the side, “befriend her?”

“After she bullied me for years,” I said with
wide
eyes.

“She was just jealous of you,” Izzy said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“What is happening here?” mumbled Blane, his head constantly shifting from Izzy to me as if he were watching the ball volley in a tennis match, stuck between two sisters on the brink of war.

“She glued my hair into dreadlocks,” I reminded Izzy, grabbing a fistful of my hair for emphasis, “painted me like the Mona Lisa, and poured a bottle of Channel #5 on me!”

“She was just playing dress up,” Izzy said nonchalantly, “and you were the Barbie doll.”

“Momma couldn’t get the glue out,” I said on the verge of tears, “and she had to shave my head.”

Izzy cocked her head to the side, shrugging. “You looked good as
Kojak
.”

My face became red hot; hatred filled my body like I had never felt before. “I was eight years old! I had to bathe in tomato juice every night for a month! And all you did was laugh.”

“It was rather funny,” stated Izzy, somberly.

“You never stood up for me!” I
hollered,
spit flying out of my mouth.

“I didn’t mean to…”

I took in a deep sharp breath and continued still trembling in pain, “I saw her at the formal,” a swell of tears fill
ed
my eyes. “She ran up to me, kissed me on both cheeks, and then hugged me.”

“See,” Izzy said proudly.

“She told me I still smelled of Channel #5.”

“I told you,” said Izzy, “she liked you.”

“And then she said,” my voice began to crack, trying to hold back the sniffles, “she knew what I needed to do to get rid of the stench.”

“She may have been a bit jealous of your beauty, but she liked you.”

I stared at Izzy, streams of tears pouring down my face. “Then she poured a glass of red wine down my ivory dress.”

“That wench!” Izzy shouted.

“So,” I said twiddling my fingers, “I decked her.”

“Hence, the mug shot,” Izzy added.

I nodded.

“Girls!” cried Blane.

We both turned to him, his chest pushed out, his eyes glaring at the door.

“What?!?!” we both said in unison.

“We’ve got company…”

Chapter 12

♦♦♦

Izzy

We were so damn busy rehashing Anabel’s horrific memories of Hilda the Gorilla that none of us noticed Lainahwyn and the Màrmann surrounding the Bloody Baron’s tower. Vyx held Fergus’s convulsing body, flopping over like a rag doll, yanking off his iron necklace and tossing it toward a gathering of prickly bushes. Lainahwyn’s poisonous venom must’ve somehow survived in his veins, its disease spreading throughout his weakened body, or worse yet,
the
demon bit him again. 

“Fergus!”
I cried, running forward. Blane’s arm flew out, blocking me before I could get any closer.

“No, lass,” Blane said softly, “he’s gone.”

Anabel’s head began to loll, side to side, knees buckling, eyes rolling around like marbles. “I,” she mumbled, “don’t feel so…” and then crumpled into the wet grass.

Blane’s arms flew out, catching her listless body before it hit the ground, touching her forehead with the back of his hand. “The Moon Pendant is draining her,” he said. “She must’ve used its power.”

I rolled my eyes. “Figures,” I mumbled out of the side of my mouth. “Maybe she shouldn’t be picking fights. That’ll save her some energy.”

My eyes quickly darted toward the demon.

“It looks as though my venom is still working,” purred Lainahwyn, her silvery hair cascading down of her angelic face, wafting in a gentle breeze, ten decomposing Màrmann seething beside her. “Leigheas is losing some of her powers it seems, Sentinel.” She flicked her willowy arm toward the army of Màrmann. “As you can see, you are outnumbered.” Her pearly eyes fixed on Blane. “Just hand over the Guardian.”

Blane passed Anabel’s lifeless body over to me. My arms strained under her weight. Boy, she was heavy as a bag of potatoes.

“Why do I always get stuck with the chump?” I muttered under my breath, throwing her limp arm over my shoulder, forcing her body to lean against mine, keeping her somewhat upright. 

Blane drew out his claymore, both hands gripping its golden hilt, its double edge steel glistening in the moonlight. “You have to get through me first, Lainahwyn.”

“How amusing,” chortled
Lainahwyn.
“Ten Màrmann against one Sentinel of Light?”

Vyx dropped Fergus’s squirming body, the flat of his heel kicking him in his gut, his body rolling back as Vyx marched forward. “Ten Màrmann and me!” he grunted.

“It’s useless, Sentinel,” stated Lainahwyn with a deceitful grin on her face.

I carefully lowered Anabel’s frail body into the soft grass, stepping over her, and slid out Blane’s short blade from the black scabbard on his hip.

Blane furrowed his brow at me.

“What?” I shrugged, holding the tiny bone knife in the palm of my hand, “you want me to use this frivolous thing?”

Blane nodded at me with an appreciative gaze.

“And he has me, too…” I said, lifting up the short blade, tossing it back and forth from hand to hand,
ready
to chop up some Màrmann.

Lainahwyn gracefully waved her hand into the cool air, giving her command to the Màrmann.  They began to storm toward us, pasty arms outstretched, searching for their next meal, their massive milky eyes fixed on us, snarling with their blackened teeth, their zombie-like bodies encircling us, ready to attack us at a moment’s notice.

“Stay close, lass,” Blane warned, steadying his powerful sword in front of him. “Lainahwyn will not approach us when we both are donning iron. We have only the Màrmann to deal with.”

Blane widened his stance in front of Anabel as we stood side by side. 

“Go for their limbs,” he instructed, swinging his sword from his side, slicing off the arm of a bald Màrmann. Black greenish blood spurted out of his shoulder, its dead arm landing at its tattered boots, his white eyes narrowing in on Blane as he continued to stagger forward.

Blane arched his elbows back, using the claymore like a sharp bat, eyeing the one armed Màrmann. He whirled his sword toward its thick neck, popping its head off in one stroke decapitating it, its diseased body flopping down to the ground.

One down.
Nine more to go.

Seven Màrmann surrounded Blane, while I had two, a pudgy one with a dead eye and a skinny one missing an ear.

Blane continued to swing his claymore around, slicing off the advancing Màrmann’s arms, hands, legs, even a few heads rolled to the ground. The largest Màrmann with a gold tooth stepped forward as the others cowered away, his boiled hand sliding out a silver rapier, waving it around ferociously in the air, ready to destroy Blane. He thrust his shimmering steel toward Blane’s chest their blades meeting, clashing in a loud clatter. Goldy sneakily ducked under their arched swords, his elbow cracking into Blane’s temple, knocking him down to his knees. The Màrmann erupted into a loud heckling roar, congratulating Goldy on his stealth move.

Blane rose to his feet, nostrils flaring,
his
hands steady on his claymore.

Meanwhile, I stabbed at my two Màrmann, dead eye and slim, my blade piercing into their dead bodies like a pin cushions. It didn’t seem to make much of a difference as they laughed at my attempts, jerking at me with their claws, scratching at my clothing.

Blane and Goldy continued their dance, advancing and slashing steel against steel. Blane hoisted his glinting sword into the air, muscles rippling, cutting his steel horizontally through the misty air, slicing into Goldy’s scourged neck, it lopped down to the side, his rotting skin still hanging on to his semi-decapitated skull. He gave Blane a
brazen slanting smile, his head hanging sideways off his neck, spurting out its rich green blood. Blane arched his claymore back, ready to finish the job, slicing his sharp-edged sword through the air again, only to be stopped by Goldy’s rapier. Goldy wasn’t defeated just yet. 

I continued my battle, plunging my short blade into dead eye’s chest, a crazed look exploded on his scarred face, his lips curling into a demented laugh. I extracted the blade out of his torso, splattering dark green fluid into my face, blinding me for a second. Quickly, I wiped my face off with the back of my hand.

I could hear the clinking sound of metal on metal from Blane’s fight. Goldy’s rapier whistling past Blane’s cheek. Blane’s legs stumbled back from the melee, his butt landing hard on the uneven ground, his claymore slashing ferociously at Goldy’s calves. Goldy jumped into the sky, flipping into a backwards somersault, missing the sting of Blane’s claymore, landing securely back on his feet, his head realigned back on top of his neck, snickering at Blane’s lame attempt to finish him off.

A thick sweaty arm suddenly clamped around my neck, putting me into a tight chokehold, dragging me away from dead eye and slim. They both sneered at me, watching me kick my legs wildly, scrapping my boots against the soggy ground. Both turned away, stumbling over to watch Goldy and Blane’s battle.  

A foul stench tickled my nose.

“Come on, lass,” Vyx whispered in my ear, “don’t you want to live forever?”

My fingers tugged at his bushy forearm, trying to pry his grip off my throat. “You never really did pay attention when we were dating,” I gasped, gulping down as much air as I could, “did you, Vyx?”

“Eternal youth, Izzy,” he hummed into my ear.

“Cause if you did,” I wheezed, my body squirming around as much as possible. “You’d know, I was always trying to die… not live!”

“You’re right, lass. Guess I just wanted to give you one more out before I fed you to the Màrmann.”

From a distance I watched Blane rise to his feet before Goldy, a fierce scowl painted across his face. Blane’s body lunged to the left, and then quickly faking Goldy out, he sprung to the right. In one swift motion, Blane leapt into the air, hurling his claymore through the fog, slicing Goldy’s head off, whacking it clean off his mangled neck. Goldy’s head catapulted into the air, spinning violently until it plopped down into the mushy grass.

The Màrmann stood still in shock, grunting, scratching their mangy heads, staring at Goldy’s blood-soaked skull, wondering which one of them was next.

Dead eye and slim turned toward me and Vyx, losing interest in Goldy’s lost fight. I guess they figured out they still wanted all their limbs attached now that Blane had won, and I just had a lousy short blade that poked holes into him. They both shuffled away from Blane, approaching us.

I swallowed hard, fearing that Vyx was going to pulverize me or hand me over to dead eye and slim. I could see the milky whites of dead eye and slim’s eyeballs as they snarled closer to me, scratching their claws against their thighs. That was the last straw. “I’m no body’s chum food!” I cried.

Using Vyx as a brace, I flung my feet up into the air, kicking the dead eye and slim in their sticky green chests, their bodies plunging backwards. My head whipped back, hard, head butting my skull into Vyx’s broad forehead, his arms releasing their clutch on my neck. I fell to the ground, on all fours, cat-like, scanning the area for the next assailant. Vyx stumbled back a few feet, a glazed look in his eyes, his hand cuffing his bulbous nose, a dribble of blood tearing from it.