All's Fair (Fair Folk Chronicles Book 4) (17 page)

Chapter 33: Last-Minute Plans

“All right, so what do we need to do?” Lani asked.

Somehow, amidst the mystic pounding in her head, Megan felt very, very 18. She looked around at the room full of people, many of them leaders of immortals. “I...I'm trying to figure things out. I didn't even know we'd be coming in this way...”

“Yeah,” Lani said. “I know. And we're here. Just because you're saving the world doesn't mean you need to carry it all. More load-bearing persons create greater structural integrity. And you know how Justin and I feel about lining problems up in rows.”

"Besides, I think she was asking the question of the people who've been lining things up here, too," Justin said, getting an affirming nod from Lani.

"We need to determine how public we're going to be about this abrupt change in plans," Tiernan said.

Jack-in-Irons shook his head. "What we need is to get boots out front, ready to fight. Time for secrets is done."

"I like your style," Cassia said.

"The defenses will hold a short time longer," the will o' wisp spoke in the Gray Lady's whisper. "But even with Tiernan reorganizing the shifts, Inwar will notice soon that some of Riocard's strongest supporters didn't evacuate right away. As was pointed out, he's also very perceptive. He'll notice the Queen's arrival eventually as well."

"What's the state of the evacuation?" Megan asked, looking to Mr. Kahale. “You said the other engineers have been building actual evacuation tunnels?”

He nodded. “Good ones,” he said. “The General's had groups taken out past the Fomoire lines for a while, moving people to camps guarded by ljosalfar, sending out a lot of the scouts.”

“So he wants the whole castle sent to the Scandinavian realms eventually?”

“Not entirely. He's preparing to run things as a guerrilla war for as long as necessary, so he's putting the pieces into place for that," the Kahuna said.

"That's great for sneaking small groups out, but what about a mass evacuation?" Justin asked. "That has to draw notice."

"He has every intention of drawing notice to himself, and off of the mass exodus to the underground," Tiernan said.

The wisp said, "He has the fishing trippers and some of his best ready to make a charge as soon as they break through the gates. He, his scouts, and his seers have been watching for weak points in the Fomoire lines. He plans to try to break through them while Indech is focused on the Ballroom, and most of the Fomoire are flooding into a largely empty palace."

"A glorious charge to draw attention, some dead Fomoire to snatch a small moral victory from the jaws of defeat Still a bastard, but a brave one. I'll give him that," said Cassia.

"Breaking through Fomoire lines worked so well last time," Lani said.

"He'll have learned from that fight," Justin said.

“And he has his priorities,” the Gray Lady added via the wisp. "Once the Ballroom falls, Winter will remain past its time. The freedom of the dokkalfar and the jotuns will become inevitable. Ragnarok will truly be coming.”

“And all the other Northerners—ljosalfar, troll, and such—in on his plan or not, will be doing their part once that happens,” Tiernan said.

The Gray Lady nodded. “And while Inwar would find surviving the castle to participate preferable, he'll find it optional.”

“So can we get moving?” Jack-in-Irons asked.

"Soon, soon,” Megan said. “Justin, you're with me, obviously. Kerr, Tsonoqua, you too."

"Why them?" Lani asked.

“We're going to Kerr's kitchen, and Tsonoqua's helping to carry stuff. The cauldron's the last piece. We have the Sword. We have the Spear, and I want to be able stand on the stone when we get to the walls.”

“What if the stone doesn't think you're official?” Lani asked.

“I don't have all my bets on its recognizing me as High Anything. There are other things I can get out of it.”

“Like what?” Cassia pressed.

“Well, for one thing, I'll definitely be able to see over the parapet,” Megan said. “I'm messing with stuff too big for me. I need all the metaphorical-load-bearing magical treasure I can get.”

“I remember when I thought trying to avoid problems and Fix Everything by shoving a magic sword in it was a terrible plan,” Lani said.

“And you were right. Especially if it was some test-run for melting things down. But we don't think we have a get-out-of-the-way-the-worlds-work card. We just have to stack the deck to keep those worlds working.”

"All right, so what do I need to do?" Lani asked.

"I need you to help with the evacuation. Particularly, you and your Dad need to make sure the ohdows are working overtime. Maybe recruit some trolls too. Local ones. Seems like they're good at this stuff."

"Wait, help the evacuation?"

Megan nodded. "I'm pulling out heavy duty magic here. I don't want to accidentally kill or bury people. And if all else fails, I want you out there. The faeries who survive will need you, and your family will need you."

Lani teared up, but nodded, pausing to hug Megan.

"And us?" the wisp said, as the Gray Lady gestured to Tiernan. "Handling Inwar?"

Megan shook her head. "Let Inwar do what he's going to do. If he wants to confront me, I'll talk to him. If he wants to focus on his big charge to draw Fomoire eyes off of the evacuation, or divide Indech's forces, so much the better. Just get anyone willing to fight for us ready to defend the Ballroom. Cassia, you too.”

"Me, the boys, and the chariot are better out in the open," Cassia said.

"The Fomoire are better than all of us out in the open," Megan said.

Cassia almost growled. "Is this about the injuries? Cause, sure, I'm hurt, but I'll do whatever is needed."

Megan shook her head and smiled. "And that's exactly why I need you in the Ballroom: because I trust you.”

Jack grinned. "And what do you trust me with? Me and mine could would eat well for several years of the End of Worlds.”

Megan turned to the ogre. "Yeah, but I trust you to remember who's paying you. If they break through the main walls, hold the breach as long as the chokepoint is usable. Buy me some time, if I'm still alive, to get down and start the fighting retreat back to the castle. Kill as many as you can, but as soon as you lose the advantage at the walls, fall back fighting."

Jack grinned and nodded as he headed up the stairs.

The Dullahan lifted his head higher to look her in the eye. "And me?"

"You're the most familiar with the troops we have left here. Get the best shots and spellcasters you can. Help on the walls to slow things down, and fall back as soon as it looks like they're going to crack them. Fall back to the castle, and keep shooting. I want them to pay for every step. If you can, try to isolate Indech for me. I doubt most weapons will do any more to him than they did to Bres. We need a clear shot at him."

The Dullahan tucked his head under his arm, bowed, and headed up the stairs.

They started filing out. As Seven trotted up and into the halls, Megan looked at his saddle and its current passengers. “What is it?” she asked.

“What do you mean what is it?” Ashling asked back, frowning. “What are
you
thinking about?”

“Half-remembered notes just out of reach, from a dream, pounding in my head. Also whether the dream's going to work, whether we're all going to die, and what, besides those things, is bothering you.”

“Well, I'm thinking about the odds of getting a taxi in Manhattan versus the odds of shark attack in Illinois, and…and the Ultimate Wet Blanket kinda smiled and was counting on me. Tiernan was counting on you. And he was laughing with people he didn't used to know existed and also, kinda, me. And … it doesn't really matter who did what to whom or who was exiled or...”

“Well, that's the way it always ends up, right? No Hard Feelings.” Her father and Orlaith had certainly inaugurated that idea for Megan.

“Only when the Unseelie are involved somehow. There was some Seelie-on-Seelie lack of hard feelings in there.”

“Well, we are involved, still. And it is the end of the world. And didn't you used to say not to worry so much about teams?”

“Yeah, but...the Count really likes teams. And then there's the matter of designated hitters.” Ashling shrunk a little as the crow nuzzled against her.

Megan didn't know what to say, so she was silent for a moment as she watched the pair. She remembered when she'd heard Ashling give that excuse before, and the typical-Ashling tangent didn't distract her. She also remembered what pixie glimmers could do.

Ashling paused, then sighed. “How's the wing doing?” she asked the Count.

“Caw.”

“Good. But you're not going to do much. We're not going to get involved in the battle. We'd just get into position, fly up as close as we can, and see if she'll talk to me like a person. For the end of worlds' sake.”

The Count tested the wing, and Ashling climbed into place. The crow hopped a couple times, then flew out a window.

The kitchens were almost bare by the time Megan got there. She always remembered it as a place of order, safety, and warmth. The impeccable timing of brownies when someone needed one was one of her earliest lessons on them—and now they were leaving.

A few brownies were packing up the last of the food and moving it out. As they passed, the brownies took the time to bow or curtsy to the Queen, and then continued in their tasks. The last crew still active with anything other than the evacuation of critical supplies were those working at the cauldron, making and delivering medicine.

“Let's get it out to the walls,” Megan said.

“The medicine's still going to be needed,” one of the brownies said.

“I don't need to dump it out. It's kind of a multi-tasker. Fill your current round of bottles, and Kerr can get more out of it later.” Megan then looked to Tsonoqua. “And you'll be right here with it. If I go down today, fair and square, the Dagda's Cauldron belongs to the ogres.”

The woman with the basket nodded. “But you honestly think you may live?”

“Honestly, no,” Megan said. “But the dokkalfar just
wish
they could cheat like I'm going to.”

As the cauldron was gathered in the ogress's huge hands, and they left the kitchen to head out for the castle walls, unheard notes were pounding harder within Megan's mind.

Chapter 34: Ragnarok Eve

Megan moved into the courtyard with her tiny entourage to find it in chaos. Groups were racing all around. Some focused on maintaining the runes of protection, while some abandoned the walls to join the evacuation groups. Trolls and craftsmen primed traps, and messengers moved everywhere.

A few people did take note of Megan, some pausing to quickly bow, others just racing on about their business. A group of redcaps and bunny-people—puka, Megan reminded herself. The Unseelie Queen should stop calling them bunny-people—paused, looking between each other in confusion. "Your Majesty?" One of the puka asked.

"No time to explain, but I'm fighting. You can go help the evac if you want, or you can go join the Dullahan," she said, continuing through the chaos while they talked among themselves.

She had just reached the base of the walls when another call cut across the courtyard. “Here comes the General!”

He was obvious against the darkness, a faint glow around him, just enhancing all of Megan's impressions of the ljosalfar.
Did he always glow like that?
She wasn't sure. Either way, lines of blue-white light radiated out and trailed behind as the General and a small ljosalfar entourage paced towards her. As he walked, he drew his sword. Megan tensed, but kept the spear in its harness.

“You came back. I thought you were going to look after the humans,” Inwar said, his voice even colder than normal.

“You must have seen the influx of Bres's brutes without Bres. So you know I did exactly that.”

“I've no objection to your buying Earth a little time,” Inwar said. “Now buy it for yourselves. The evacuation is downstairs. You will be defended. We will hold as long as necessary.”

“Did you know, General, that humans actually kill each other less and less nowadays? Maybe the cycle of violence doesn't have to echo forever. Maybe the cycle of greed doesn't. I've seen people come together on every side of the paths this week. And so I'm here because I won't abandon this castle and all what it does for the worlds. I'm here because I think you're wrong, just like you think I'm wrong. Neither of us is going to convince each other.”

“And so?”

“Orlaith was fated. You believe that. It was her day to die, no matter what anybody did, but she went out like a heroine.”

“Yes.”

“So. Let's each find out if it's our day or not, and do it facing the real enemy.”

Inwar frowned, then sheathed his sword. "Die well, Majesty." She thought she picked up a note of respect behind the tone.

"Die well, General," Megan responded, finally hearing the phrase as something other than a threat, then turned, heading for the stairs to the top of the wall.

Tsonoqua set the cauldron down, and as she had in Murias, Megan could feel its presence and power. Every one of the soldiers who had accepted soup, medicine, or drink from the cauldron was connected to her. They were all still together in one way or another, and as it had during her songs to bolster morale back at that tragic battle, it would help ground her music now.

"All right, get the stone out," Megan said. Tsonoqua drew out the stone from her basket, and Megan stepped onto it. The runes across the stone lit up, but the stone didn't say anything. She wasn't the one true Ard Ri, perhaps—but it still connected with her. She was still something to it. The runes lit, but didn't move, the way she'd seen in Falias. Instead, it was almost like it was waiting, ready to be given the words to sing.

She felt the warmth of the Claiomh Solais in Justin's hand at her side. It would protect her from the magic of the Fomoire, and just as it had once nearly powered all of the pathways through Orlaith's prepared vessel, Megan and her sworn protector would gain its strength—in their time of need, as all the legends of the Sword of Light stated.

She raised the spear, feeling the rush of cold down her arm, and the first signs of faint, wispy runes tracing themselves over her skin. She'd failed to use it before: Justin had caused the backlash that killed Cethlenn. Megan had fallen, and Cassia had managed to kill Bres. She didn't have room for failure now. The Fomoire just knew the spear: that it had killed Balor, that the Queen, and not Cethlenn, had emerged from Balor's tomb. They knew Bres had fallen to an ambush he'd stupidly walked into, trusting in his invulnerability—which the spear had pierced.

She'd seen the power of the artifacts before, the tools of gods, heroes, and kings of legend. United, they would serve as a conduit, some of the only things that, she hoped, might be able to contain the magic of the song pounding in her head.

Seeing the movement atop the walls, the field below began to move. Indech stepped to the fore, flanked by two giants. The shark-like maw opened, and the twisted Gaelic echoed out over the field. The fires raining down against the magical protections doubled as he exhorted more vigorous effort out of his sorcerers. The cavalry all pulled themselves onto the monstrous warhorses, the handlers whipped the beasts and remaining madmen into a frenzy, and the infantry began to stamp their spears in anticipation.

For just a moment, Megan hesitated, looking at the motion through the field. Some of the fae on the walls retreated right then, and in the courtyard, there were shouts that the runes were failing, and calls to retreat to the tunnels.

And then the pounding of the song grew louder still, overwhelming all the sound below. The stars above flared in Megan's vision, blocking out almost any sign of any of the Fomoire, save only Indech. The King of the Fomoire alone remained visible, as a sickly gray-green glow built up around him.

Megan thought of the power involved in what she was doing. She thought of her father and his best rival, hands finally clasped in their last dance, evaporating away in sheer power. She thought of her dream. She thought of that first Halloween.

“Okay. Last chance. I need the favor.”

“Your hat?” Justin asked, confused.

“No, no. From the realm. Remember when dad used, in his season, 'the favor of the realm?' He could give us extra protection, drawing on Faerie itself to enforce it?”

“Yes. Your father was quite comfortable with the world owing him.”

“Well, it's my season. Winter as much as Autumn; I danced for both of them.”

“Of course. What are you asking for?”

“I want to try to live long enough to get the job done, but I can't do the casual demand thing like Dad. Not my style, when we've got a bunch of scared people, and I'm a bard.”

Megan cleared her throat. As she spoke, she heard her voice echoing, carrying across the field, and out over the courtyard.

"I am Megan Bridget O'Reilly, Queen of the Unseelie. By birthright and the Dance, owed a favor by the realm in my season. I ask the realm for strength and life enough, even in the shadow of the Lady of the ever-burning fire, to do what must be done. And if today is my day, do not let me die alone."

Her voice echoed a few more seconds, before it disappeared in the pounding of her head. A voice that wasn't entirely her own singing a song her mortal ears weren't supposed to remember. The song her father had thought on for millennia, never quite able to recall it right.

She only had to wait a few minutes more. With a tremendous thundering sound and a flash of blue light, the runes failed. The next impacts of stone and siege artillery shells left cracks in the wall.

Indech roared a challenge and started to advance, drawing his great black blade. The ground shook as first the giants marched, and then the cavalry began to move as one. Thousands of boots ground the earth, and more stones and missiles struck the walls of the appropriately named Last Home.

Megan, flanked by Justin and Tsonoqua, looked out over the field, took a deep breath, and, feeling the presence of the spear, the sword, the cauldron, and the stone as if they were waiting for her, she began to sing.