Blue Moon (42 page)

"Sierra,” he said to her, “give me five minutes then start singing. Sing until that...” He pointed a shaking finger at the shadow of the other planet. “...is gone."

"I don't know..."

"You'll remember."

"Father,” Alex began, “what are you...?"

"Stay here. Watch the Shadow King. I'll be back."

He stepped off the platform. Alex waited, willing him to change into a dragon, but he didn't. He slipped under the magic and disappeared.

She stared at the Stone. Inside, deep in the center, light blazed, swirling. Merlin, too, seemed unable to take his eyes off it. The only thing that allowed her to tear her gaze away was the sound of someone on the stairs. Whoever it was had stopped midway to have a coughing fit, so she wasn't particularly scared of who it might be.

It was Zorovin.

"The trip did not do you much good, did it?” she asked.

He leaned against the doorway. “No,” he said. Then, he sort of smiled. For a second, she saw his son in his face.

"Are you trapped here now, too?"

"Trapped?"

"Merlin says that I'm trapped here."

Zorovin slid down the wall, and she ran over to him. She wondered if his wound had not healed so well after all.

She placed a hand on his forehead. He looked up at her, one eye pale silver, the other glowing a bright, feverish green.

"Oh,” she whispered.

"I am still in control,” he said, “but not for long."

She smelled the mustiness of the old man's presence behind her.

"You always were a foolish lad,” Merlin said to Zorovin.

"I am sorry that I have not visited in so long,” Zorovin said. “But I thought that tonight was as good a night as any to rectify that mistake."

Merlin examined the dragon king's eyes then sighed.

"Well, I trapped that spirit once, I can do it again.” He looked at Libby. “Go into the other room. There are some colored stones sitting on a shelf under the window. Bring the smallest red one to me."

"Okay.” She got up, but Zorovin grabbed her arm.

"Then sing for me?"

"Yes,” she said, understanding what he meant. She ran to fetch the stone.

The Black Queen was not yet dead. So strong was the pain that she wished she was, but then Ulia had never been so easily defeated. Zorovin was slipping she thought, chucking delightedly. She put her hand up to her neck. Blood crusted in her clothes and hair, and there was a gaping hole across her throat, making breathing impossible. But Ulia had not been called queen of the dead for naught.

She stood painfully, looking over at the corpse her son had so recently inhabited. She touched it, willed her mind into it, but the spirit had long left the flesh. Too long, she thought. The path between life and death was too far, too dangerous for her to travel and retrieve him, especially in this state. If it had been his own body, no matter how long a length of time had passed, she could have gotten him.

"Farewell, my child,” she said, but the truth was, she was not certain she cared. If the years can not wear away at the flesh, they wear away at the spirit, and her spirit had long been stripped of most emotions. She had her purpose, still, and her secret weapon. It would drive her on, even if she had no one to share her victory with.

She kicked the body over the balcony, and into the swirling maelstrom below. The shadow was still in the sky. She still had time.

She ran down the steps and into the courtyard. As she ran, she imagined herself a fleeing shadow, so that no one would notice that she was still alive. She would make it to the Shadow King, were he waited for the power, for the shadow horses to rise from the ground, for his people to regain their form and ride out to conquer.

"The stone is gone. The shadow still rides the sky. They need us."

"We have sworn to stay out of human affairs. Our time is past, Nimue, we cannot interfere."

Melnue stood up, her hair like flame. She was a warrior-woman now. “I have taken no such vows. Send me."

"Melnue...” Morganna began.

"I am Bronwyn, daughter of Shera the Betrayer. My people were sent for, and they will come. The man I love will rush out thoughtlessly into a battle he knows nothing of. I will not let this stand, not just for my people, but for all who breathe. Vows or not, we have a duty to help when we can, to save lives, to prevent suffering. Nimue, send me."

"You will not go alone,” Nimue said.

Morganna was the last to stand. “Very well,” she said. “But only sorrow can come of this. I know it."

As one they stepped on the mirror. There was a soft flash, and the room was empty, save for a circle in the floor and a dab of candle wax.

Alex had led them to another pinnacle, easier to defend and somewhat more out of the way. Rita-Sierra, her eyes a normal hazel with brown edges, held a bowl filled with gold magic in her hands. She sang slowly, haltingly, and every once in a while Alex would add a word. He saw a shadow run across the courtyard, and began to worry. His attention on Rita, he tried not to think of what was happening, just guide the woman through the song and be ready if they were attacked.

It was not easy.

"'Ware left, Alex,” Dashiel warned.

On the horizon, a ship under full sail crossed the land, parting trees and earth with its keel. Two people waited off to the side of the ship's path, waving to it. To his right, on the ridge, the Shadows stirred. He should have gone after the one he saw earlier, he realized, for it had carried a message that was exciting them, getting them and what was left of the vile creatures that served them to make ready.

Behind him, a woman spoke.

"Melnue ... I mean, Bronwyn, the ship is coming. Go, catch up to them, tell them what is going on."

"Yes, Nimue."

He turned. It was the Black Queen. Dashiel snarled.

"Relax,” the pale woman next to her said. “It is not her. Ulia stripped the form of this young woman for her own purposes. This is Bronwyn."

Bronwyn nodded and left.

Nimue approached; Alex recognized her from the knowledge his father had passed down to him. The third woman was Morganna, then.

Nimue touched Rita lightly. “Shush, now."

"I'm not helping?” Rita asked.

"It is too late to close the door. Let me and my sister take care of it."

"And they call me fae?” Morgan said. “If you're about what I think you're about..."

Nimue tucked her arm under her half-sister's. “Sing with me, now. We must, or else everything will shatter."

And so they began the song. This time it sounded right, less clumsy. Alex took Rita's arm and backed away, and wished he knew if he was doing the right thing.

She stood in front of the window, the Merlin Stone in her hands. She crooned to it gently, coaxing it to do her will. Behind her, Merlin was worked on Zorovin.

"Ah-ha!” Merlin said. “Not such an echo, after all, am I?"

"Nay. And thank you.” Zorovin sounded as relieved as he did grateful. Libby smiled to herself as she kept singing.

The shadow was not moving.

The glow in the center of the Stone began to grow. She put her voice to it, singing louder, the words more sure. The Stone vibrated, and she thought, At last we're getting somewhere!

The vibration grew. The Stone burned her hands, and Libby tried to ignore the heat, the pain. Electricity surged out, and the pain combined with the Stone's vibrations caused it to leap from her hands.

It shattered on the floor.

"Oh! Oh, no, Lord,” she whispered, kneeling by the lifeless fragments. She tried to piece them back together and ended up cutting herself on the shards.

Zorovin knelt by her. “That did not help our cause,” he said with a sigh.

"It is worse than you think,” Merlin said. He frowned. “Someone has interfered again, putting their oars in where they don't belong."

The ground began to shake as the glow returned. A flash of intense light blinded them temporarily as it ripped away the wall in front of them and shattered the windows.

Blinking to regain their sight, they stepped forward, past the shattered window frames and ripped boards. Breaking into the snowpack on the right was a ship. On the left, the Shadow Kind roared in triumph as shadows spun and spiraled and became huge beasts. The shadows themselves became three dimensional, and Libby knew the army of Shadow would now be able to sweep across the land.

The ice and snow gave away to the castle. She looked across and met Dashiel's gaze.

"Oh, yes,” he growled. “That was helpful."

They started across the ice. Dashiel leapt off the balcony and met them. Rita backed away, but Alex took her hands.

"It's all right,” he said, “just a small leap."

Zorovin stood on the edge of the cliff. It was a long way down to the cracked and shattered courtyard below. He held up his arms.

"It is okay. Come now. I am here."

He caught her, and she hugged him tightly, and he marveled at how different she felt from the woman he first knew. He set her carefully on the snow. Inside, where it mattered most, she was the same.

"You're safe,” she said.

"Aye.” He smiled, but it faded when he looked over at his son and Libby. Alex was kissing her as if his life depended on it. Zorovin blinked.

"It'll be alright,” Rita-Sierra said gently.

"Enough,” Zorovin ordered. “The forces of Shadow are now flesh. It will be a long battle, but sooner started, sooner done, eh?"

"Oh, dear,” Rita-Sierra said. “I think he's watched too much TV."

"Hopefully nothing with Shakespeare in it. I couldn't stand any long, rousing speeches right now,” Dashiel added.

"I'm sorry to kill the levity of the moment, here,” Libby said, “but things have just gotten a tiny bit worse.” She pointed at the sky.

Zorovin cursed viciously in Draconian.

"I thought the Heamorris-Seps long dead,” Alex said as its huge wings beat across the face of the moon.

Alex changed; Libby did not look away as his skin changed to scale and his bones reshaped themselves.

"Not without me,” she said, leaping up on his back.

A ridge of bone and scale ran down his spine, and she fit herself between two of them, pulling her knife free and hoping she could hold on with only one hand.

He launched into the sky. She felt as though she had left her stomach on the ground behind her, and she refused to look down to the ground.

She was flying, and it was different, because things were not as safe and secure as the last time. She could fall. In fact, she thought, as he wheeled into a turn, closing in on the Heamorris, she probably would.

Alex roared; it rang in her ears. The Seps turned, its splayed, hook-like fingers reaching. Libby could see the Black Queen grinning with joy. She exalted in the evil of the thing she sat on, Libby realized.

Alex banked into another turn, avoiding the sweep of the Sep's claw.

"I would not have brought you,” Alex said.

"You could not have stopped me."

"It is only worthy to die if you can take the Seps with you,” Alex said. “I will distract it. Go for its eyes."

"Got it,” she said as he dove under the monster then climbed steeply again. They were upside down above it now, speed the only thing helping Libby maintain her seat as she slashed at its eyes. Her dagger caught one before Alex twisted to avoid claws on his soft belly. A roar of pain from the Seps and one of anger from the rider followed them as Alex flew away toward the castle.

"What are you doing? I think I got him."

"One eye. The second one will not be so easy."

"But we're running away."

"No,” Alex explained patiently, “we're luring."

They flew around towers and spinnerets, over roofs and under arches. The Seps followed clumsily, colliding with walls as it took turns badly. Alex envisioned his plan to her, and Libby said she understood.

She leapt off his back and onto a small tower roof. The Seps banked sharply, and Libby leapt again, catching the queen by her long black hair and one shoulder. Unfortunately, Ulia clung firmly to her perch and clawed at Libby's face as Libby struggled to get her foot up on one of the Seps's slick wings.

Alex flew straighter, so as not to force the Seps to run into things and jar her off. Unfortunately, this also meant the Seps was catching up to him.

"Damn them,” Zorovin growled. He was in dragon form, his voice sharp within the minds of the allies who stood and watched with them. “Finally."

Two elven men approached, the taller bearing a flame-colored rock. “We have been looking for the dragons. I am Terisoth, and this is my cousin, Aïs."

"Hi,” Aïs said, sounding nervous. He shifted the bundle he was carrying in his arms.

Zorovin bowed his long neck so his eyes were on a level with the two elves.

"And what did you want?"

Terisoth held out the rock. “We found this where the thing was buried,” he said. He held out a ring as well.

Seps's Bane was the name for the rock. “Is this all you have of it?” Zorovin asked.

Aïs unwrapped the bundle—more Seps's Bane in several decent-sized chunks. Zorovin held out one clawed hand, and they piled what they had of it in his palm.

"Will it be enough?” Terisoth asked.

"Oh, I think so,” Zorovin said. “Especially since I intend to make sure that thing swallows every bit."

She managed to get one foot on the joint where wing connected to body and levered herself up. Ulia pounded on her foot, twisting and trying to force Libby to let go. Libby slashed the queen's hand with the dagger and yanked, lifting her out of her seat. She managed to get her other foot under Ulia. Ahead, Alex maneuvered so the Seps was forced to turn wildly.

They fell. Libby let her go, calling with her mind.

Claws caught her, but they were not Alex's. Alex was above her, holding the Seps back from going after its mistress. It was Zorovin who held her, who set her off onto a nearby roof. The surface was slick, and she skidded; but she managed to get her balance and focused on the dragon battle.