The Crossing (Immortals) (19 page)

BOOK: The Crossing (Immortals)
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Silence reigned for several long seconds. The voice of
the oldest Sidhe female broke the quiet. "Beware this
path, Manannin mac Lit. I agree with the queen. This
witch should die."

"The loss of her powers will be more than enough punishment," Mac said grimly. "The sentence stands."

A soft rush of air sighed from Saraid's lungs. "As you
command, Prince."

The elder's staff struck the ground. Artemis caught one
last glimpse of Mac's outline before it was lost behind the curtain of green light. And then she was alone, surrounded by a solid wall of Sidhe magic.

Her heart pumped. Unwittingly, the Sidhe Council had
handed her exactly what she needed.

A chant began, Saraid's ancient voice pitched high. One
by one, the other Sidhe councillors joined her song. The
vibration of their gathering magic shook Artemis to the
bone. Power coalesced, awesome, earth-deep power,
readying for the assault on Artemis's soul.

Time had run out. She had to make her move. Now.

I'd rather die.

Regret burned like acid in Mac's stomach. He didn't
doubt Artemis's words for an instant. He'd feel the same,
faced with the prospect of losing his powers. He enjoyed
the human world immensely, and counted many humanseven mundane ones-among his friends, but... become
one of them? Just the thought made him shudder. But the
prospect of Artemis losing her life? Losing the new life
likely growing in her womb? That fear made him physically ill.

He paced the edge of the Council chamber, berating
himself. How had he allowed things to come to such a sorry
pass? He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd betrayed
Artemis in some fundamental way. It never should have
come to this. And it wouldn't have, if she weren't so bloody
stubborn. And if he hadn't been such a bloody fool.

The elders' spell progressed swiftly. The seven councillors circled the chamber, tracing silver runes in the air.
Their chant had begun in harmony, but with each passing
circuit, a note of the melody shifted into discordance.
Though a few idiot critics described Mac's own music as
less than melodious, this raw dissonance was something
much different. Mac's compositions flowed from the
magic of creation; the elders chanted a spell of destruction. Not death magic, but deadly just the same.

His eyes narrowed on his mother. He wouldn't put it
past her to pull some kind of trick. But he detected nothing. Niniane was furious with him, to be sure. But the
truth was, she had to obey him. As a demigod, he ranked
above her in the strict hierarchy that ruled Sidhe culture.
Mac wasn't smug enough to think she wouldn't find a way
to get back at him, though. Ah well. He'd just grit his
teeth and handle whatever annoyances she threw his way.
As always.

The threads of the power-stripping spell were visible
now, woven in ugly knots of putrid green, obscene orange,
and muddy brown. The elders were showing signs of strain.
Their faces were pale, their gaits unsteady. Their voices,
however, did not falter on the hideous disharmony they'd
created. Mac ground his teeth, wishing it would end.

And then what? Artemis would hate him; he knew that
for a fact. He felt like punching something. His power was
vast, and right now-useless. He never should have let her
get away from him. How had he missed that moonstone?
He should have found it and forced the truth out of her. It
rankled that she hadn't trusted him.

The spell reached its chaotic crescendo. Niniane's
hands moved swiftly, tracing a blur of runes. Magic
strands twisted and thrashed in the air. At Niniane's shout,
she and the elders spun toward the center of the chamber.
Their spell dropped like a writhing net of vipers over
Artemis's glowing green prison.

The harsh echoes of the elders' voices faded. Their eyes
were bleak, their faces haggard. It was impossible to cast
such a spell without feeling its horror.

A hiss of acid and smoke filled the chamber. The
strands of magic dissolved, eating away at the walls of
Artemis's prison, digesting it, melting it, inch by slow inch.

Niniane sighed. When she spoke, her voice was infinitely
weary. "The Council has done as you commanded, Manannan. But I still think it would have been better to kill the witch. She'll probably just take her own life, anyway, as
soon as she can manage it."

Mac's gut lurched. He wouldn't let that happen. He'd
take care of Artemis-he'd convince her that life, even as a
mundane, was worth living. He'd offer her as much of his
life essence as she wanted. He'd make things right. At least
as right as they possibly could be. He made the vow as the
last wisp of smoke cleared from the center of the chamber.

Niniane let out a gasp.

Mac's blood pounded into his ears. He couldn't even
manage a gasp of his own-all he could do was blink like a
village idiot at the empty platform.

Artemis was gone.

 

"Death magic! That foul human dared to cast death magic!
Here! In the Sidhe Council chamber."

Niniane vibrated with pure outrage. She strode to him,
her balled fist striking him so hard on the chest that he actually staggered back a step. But his eyes never moved
from the place where Artemis had knelt just minutes before.

He had to fight to keep an idiotic grin off his face.

Niniane's fingernail jabbed his shoulder. He blinked
down at her. If looks could cook, his immortal arse would
be fried.

"This is your fault, Mackie. The Council voted for
death, and you stopped us. What were you thinking? That
witch commands an insane amount of power! No one escapes from a Sidhe Council chamber. No one! We-" Jab.
"Should-" Jab. "Have-" Jab. "Killed her!"

"Gods in Annwyn," Tadc muttered, striding to Niniane's side. His jaw clenched as he stared at the spatter of
blood staining the platform of the accused. Wisps of yellow smoke curled above it.

"It's certain none of us here will be going after her," he
said. "The witch escaped to a demon realm."

As if anyone needed clarification on that point. The
odor of sulfur was unmistakable. Mac still couldn't wrap
his mind around it. What Artemis had done-here, in a room bewitched against death magic-should have been
impossible.

Damn, but she was good.

"How could she have done it?" Niniane demanded.

"Indeed," Briac put in. "That is the question. The sheer
potency of the death magic required to open a demon
portal in this chamber should have killed her outright.
Her body should be lying here at our feet."

Saraid paced forward, leaning heavily on her staff. She
halted, sniffing the air. The corners of her mouth turned
sharply downward. "Soul separation."

"Ah," Enid, Enys, and Erlina breathed in unison. "Of
course."

Mac didn't like the sound of that. Some witches and
sorcerers-very few-could temporarily separate soul
from body. A dangerous feat, useful at times, and he didn't
doubt Artemis could do it. But he'd never heard of the
technique being used to open a demon portal.

"Explain," he told the sisters.

Enid's blue eyes blinked. "Opening a full demon portal
in this room would have killed the spell-caster instantly.
But a clever witch might have created a small pinprick in
reality with no harm to herself."

"Go on."

Enys continued her sister's explanation. "Once the
witch had established the pinhole in space, she separated
soul from body. Her soul would have been able to slip
through the small hole, while her body remained behind."

"But her body isn't here," Mac pointed out.

"In the third part of the spell," Erlina went on, "the
witch's soul cast death magic from the demon realm, widening the portal enough to allow her body to pass through.
Then she collapsed the passage. All in all, a very dangerous
maneuver. Not many humans could have completed it."

Mac's admiration multiplied. Good? Forget it. The
woman was amazing.

But could an unborn child, so newly conceived, survive
what she'd done?

He started to climb onto the platform. Saraid stopped
him with a withered hand on his arm. "The witch is dangerous. Take care, Mac Lit. She may yet drag you into a
fight you cannot win."

"Leave me be, Saraid."

Jumping onto the platform, he cast his senses into the
curling vapor. His mind touched the barely healed rift in
space Artemis had opened and closed. Pure death lay beyond.

His elation at Artemis's escape evaporated. Had she
dodged one distasteful fate only to run directly to another? If she had the power to leave the Sidhe Council
chamber, couldn't she have gone somewhere more...
pleasant? Paris? Hawaii? Siberia? Few humans willingly
entered a death realm.

Unless they had a very compelling reason. Acid
churned his gut. He didn't want to admit it, but all evidence pointed in one direction. Artemis had been planning to deliver the life essence-drenched moonstone to a
demon.

Bloody hell. No wonder she'd lied. No wonder she'd rejected his help. If he'd known, he'd have done everything
in his power to stop her.

The demon had to be an Old One; he was sure Artemis
could trounce any lesser entity. Was the moonstone payment or tribute? For what? What would she risk her own
soul to obtain? Something to do with the lad in the pictures. It had to be. He'd seen her eyes when she looked at
her son. She loved him, most likely more than she cared
for her own life. Had a demon stolen the lad? Was the
stolen life essence a ransom payment?

If so, the Old One would not be pleased when Artemis
showed up empty-handed. The demon would want alternate payment. Mac had a good idea what that would entail. Abruptly, he rose, pacing the perimeter of the platform. A year ago, when Leanna disappeared, Mac had
been powerless to follow her. He'd been a creature of
pure life magic then-a trip into a death realm would have
rendered him too ill to function. But now... now things
were different. Because of the slice of darkness that was
now a part of Mac's soul.

"Mackie. Get down from there." Niniane had halted
several steps from the platform. "This entire chamber
reeks of death magic now. It's useless. Contaminated.
We'll have to fill it in and dig out another."

Her hands went to her hips. "What an inconvenience!
If that deinonwhore ever shows her face on the Celtic isles
again, she's going to pay."

"She's not a demonwhore," Mac snapped. At least, not
yet. He hoped.

Niniane sniffed. "After all she's done, you're still defending her? Gods in Annwyn, Mac, I don't know what to
do about you anymore. You slum in the human world,
consorting with scum. You ignore nice Sidhe girls-even
half-breeds! You never come home to Annwyn-"

She choked on a sob. A genuine sob, Mac realized with
a start. He stared at his mother, nonplussed. Was that a
teat - rolling down his mother's face? Sidhe, as a rule, didn't
cry. The emotions they felt weren't human ones. And his
mother was one of the coldest Sidhe he knew. He hadn't
thought tears possible for Niniane.

The other councillors appeared just as startled. The sisters averted their eyes, while the males politely turned
their backs. Old Saraid leaned on her staff, frowning.

The event called for a response, Mac was sure. If only
he could think of something to say.

"Mum..." He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry I don't get
round to visit more. It's just that... Annwyn makes me
uncomfortable. Everything's so bloody perfect there."

Niniane sniffed. "If it were really perfect, you'd want to
be there."

What kind of warped logic was that? He dragged a
hand through his hair. He didn't have time for this.
Artemis might be facing an angry Old One at this very
moment.

He jumped off the platform and approached her. "Look,
Mum, all right. I'll try to stop by more often. Now please.
Stop crying."

"Crying? I am not crying. Crying is a human activity."

"Whatever you say, Mum."

Niniane's chin lifted. Eyes perfectly dry now, she spoke
in tones of ice. "Councillors, we are finished here. I see no
need to linger. Manannan, see that this chamber is destroyed."

Turning, she swept through the doorway leading to Annwyn.

The three sisters glided in her wake. Tadc and Briac followed more sedately. Saraid, bringing up the rear with her
measured gait, paused in the doorway.

She regarded Mac with a grave expression. "You plan to
follow the human witch into the realm of death."

Mac said nothing.

She shook her head. "I ask you, Manannan. Do not do
this. Death... it is strong. In the end, it cannot be denied."

A shiver chased down his spine. "I'm sorry, Saraid.
Nothing you can say will stop me. I have to do this."

For a long moment, the elder did not reply. Then she
inclined her head. "For that, Manannan mac Lir, I am
truly sorry."

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The words were Artemis's new mantra. Couldn't she do
anything right? She'd planned everything so meticulously. What had happened to shatter all her carefully laid
plans?

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