The Unfinished Song - Book 6: Blood (22 page)

“Enough!”

Dindi knew she had pushed too far. She kept silent the rest of the morning while the Aelfae ate their morning meal. They shared the food with her indifferently, as if it did not occur to them not to, but otherwise they ignored her.

They spoke of all the Aelfae who must have died since the seven of them had last walked Faearth. They mentioned hundreds of individuals by name, with guesses and speculations: “must have died fighting, surely” or “maybe died from the Curse alone….”

“We must have died too,” said Kia suddenly.

“What do you mean?” asked Yastara.

“From what Xerpen told us this morning, we know that only he and Vessia were still alive before his initial spell, and even both of them were Cursed and close to death. The rest of us had actually died, but our bodies were preserved in the cocoons. Xerpen resurrected us, and restored our immortality, along with his and Vessia’s, with his first spell.”

“There’s nothing to stop the Deathsworn from Cursing us all again,” Hest said. “Unless….”

He looked at Dindi, then away.

“My point is, except for Xerpen and Vessia, we all died from the Curse once already,” said Kia. “Died and would have stayed dead forever, except for Xerpen’s dance. I just wonder how it happened.”

“Vessia should know,” said Yastara. “She was probably there.”

“I don’t remember,” said Vessia. “And I’m glad.”

The conversation was depressing, even to Dindi.

Vessia left shortly after that to find out more about the ceremony from Xerpen. The others wanted to go, too, but no one beside Vessia was willing to risk annoying Xerpen.

Even the Aelfae are afraid of him
, thought Dindi. Not that they would admit it.

Morning stretched so long it felt sticky. Xerpen had allowed them nothing to do except wait on the ceremony at high noon. Bad idea. Bored Aelfae were a hazard to themselves and others.

The Aelfae settled into their own interests. Hest discovered the humans would let him have a sheep to butcher and roast, and any spices he could think of, provided they could procure them. He set to cooking an elaborate feast for the evening. Gwidan turned his bow into a harp and plucked out a few songs, though he complained that without Xerpen there, he had no one to sing accompaniment. Kia and Mrigana sparred together.

Yastara and Lothlo wanted to fly.

“There’s a mountain lake on the other slope. Let’s fly over there and go swimming,” suggested Yastara.

“Xerpen told us not to leave.”

“Who cares? It’s just a swim. And Xerpen is not our leader. Vessia is.”

Lothlo shrugged. “Let’s go. What about
her
?”

“She keeps saying she’s Aelfae. Let’s see if she can fly.”

Dindi didn’t grasp the significance of their conversation until they abruptly turned into birds, and Yastara snatched Dindi in her talons. Yastara had beautiful silvery feathers, and Lothlo had golden plumage. The two fae birds climbed into the air. Dindi’s heart almost jumped out of her chest, but Yastara held her snuggly without hurting, and Dindi managed to smother her panic.

Until Yastara dropped her.

Terror and panic and absolutely no wings sprouted from her. She didn’t have Umbral, wearing Kavio’s reassuring face, telling her,
You can fly
. She only had a voice screaming in her mind, YOU ARE GOING TO DIE.

The golden bird, Lothlo, caught her. He climbed into the air….

…to drop her again.

This time Yastara caught her and flew back up. Dindi knew what was coming…

…but it didn’t make it any better when Yastara dropped her.

She saw their game now, but it didn’t stop the terror of it or the terrible shame she felt at her helplessness. Every time one of them let her plummet through the air, she was certain this would be the fall that killed her. The fear was so alarming she almost hated being caught again, since it meant the game would continue. They were no better than the bullies of her year as Initiate. Picking on the weak one. She hated them. Her anger made her feel stronger, less afraid, but she still couldn’t pop out wings.

They arrived on a grassy knoll on an outcrop overlooking a lake, where they set her in the grass, perfectly on her feet, and shifted back to human shape.

“She’s not a bird,” Yastara laughed.

Lothlo grinned. “Let’s see if she’s a fish.”

Before Dindi knew the rules of this new torment, they shoved her off the grassy outcrop, straight below into the ice cold water of the glacial lake. They jumped in after her, changing to fish. She floundered. Though she could swim, the water was so cold it drove her to panic, and the choppy waves didn’t help. The fae fish batted her around with their tails, bit her clothes, and dragged her down.

Dindi fought off drowning. She struggled to push the water back under her rather than
over
her. She broke the surface, but only when they deigned to release her.

They were merfolk now, with fishy tails but their own faces and torsos, laughing at their joke.

They swam away too quickly for her to follow. They had left her in the deep of the lake, no minor swim to shore. She forced her tired arms to swim. Exhaustion and hyperthermia almost defeated her, but she was damned if she would let these stupid, petty fae kill her.
Just keep going
, she urged herself.
Just keep swimming
.

The Aelfae were dancing on the shore when she arrived at last. She felt near dead from cold; their clothes were already dry. They danced around her, drying her clothes instantly, and warming her core. They probably saved her life, but she felt only resentment. They had made their morning all about playing with her, to make her feel helpless and humiliated. Well, she’d been on that path before with human children. She didn’t plan to walk it a second time with fae who behaved like children.

“What’s next?” she demanded. “You could at least let me know.”

“Don’t be so sour,” laughed Yastara. “We were just having fun.”

That’s what makes it offensive, you selfish, thoughtless bi….

She didn’t have time to even complete the thought.

The mud exploded.

A monster of mud, squirming with worms, rotten with fetid leaves, stinking, foul, ghastly, and oozing, burst out of the earth.

The gruesome thing … it was female. It was human… not human.

It was Aelfae.

“Gaya!” gasped Yastara. “Gaya Earthdancer! I haven’t seen you in ages…”

The taste of the darkness made Dindi want to retch. She recognized the unclean, uncanny power. The same kind of penumbral knots animated this mud monster as had animated the Bog Mummy she had fought with Umbral.

“This isn’t who you think it is!” warned Dindi.

“Because she’s dead! This can’t be Gaya! Gaya was Cursed!” agreed Lothlo.

“
We
were dead, too!” said Yastara. “She’s coming back…”

Yastara ran toward the undead thing.

“No!” shouted Dindi.

It struck instantly. It lashed out its unnaturally long arms like whips of darkness. The Mud Monster snapped out one tentacle of darkness to strangle Yastara. It curled another rope of shadow around Lothlo’s waist and dragged him toward its rotting maw of a mouth, as if for an obscene kiss.

“Gaya… what are… you doing?” wheezed Yastara, trying to pry the black, oozing hand from her throat.

The thing latched onto Yastara and began to suck the light from her.

Yastara screamed. Pain, shock, agony, and disbelief mixed into the howl, which made Dindi’s back crawl with fear. Anything that could make an Aelfae scream…

Lothlo drew his stone hammer and pounded at the dark arms wrapped around him.

He freed himself and began to dance.

With every pose, Lothlo shoved bolts of furious light at the thing. Chroma after Chroma. Everything he shot at it only fed it.

“Death magic animates it! No power of mine will stop it!”

The Mud Monster grew twice as large and sprouted more arms as it drew power from Yastara. These new branches slithered toward Dindi and Lothlo. Dindi scrambled away, but it caught Lothlo again.

He bayed in pain as his light was ripped from him. His hammer dropped from his stunned fingers.

And the Mud Monster grew taller, stronger, and darker with unclean power.

A dozen arms all reached for Dindi.

An abundant but simple morning meal of blood sausage, black potatoes, and dried chokecherries filled the bowls spread on the eating mat. Neither Xerpen nor Finnadro reached for the food, however.

“Are you fasting?” Xerpen asked.

“Yes,” said Finnadro. “I always do before a difficult interrogation. It helps me remember that the prisoner is also hungry and to use his appetites against him.”

“The simplest methods are often best,” agreed Xerpen. “Normally, this is a task I would do myself. But he wears the Obsidian Mask, a weapon fashioned by Lady Death. Even though I
know
his trick and my warriors have removed the physical mask, I fear I would still be blinded by its magic, as would be any who first saw him when he was wearing it. But you, Finnadro… you have seen his real face. He cannot deceive you. Only you can wrest the truth from his tangle of lies.”

“If I have your leave, Uncle, I would like to use your cistern water to purify myself before the interrogation. And I will see my Lady. I was supposed to meet her last night, but she did not come…”

“Purification, I understand. But is it wise to see your faerie? She is pure love. She will not understand what you are about to do and why. Do you really want to drag her down into the slime?” 

As always, Xerpen had cut to the heart of the matter, and Finnadro was moved.  “You are right, Uncle.”

Before he took his leave, Finnadro wrapped a package of food in an orange and white cloth. This was not to eat—not just yet.

A ceramic jar, as massive as a bear, squatted on the slate flagstones in the sunken courtyard. Finnadro scooped water out with a bowl. The smack of icy water braced him. He rinsed and scrubbed thoroughly with a volcanic pumice. Dead skin flaked away, leaving the flesh beneath raw and pale.

When he was as clean as stone and water could make him, he stood naked in the pallid dawn light, listening for the unfinished song. The tune was there, but low and smothered, as if some inexorable force sought to silence the instruments of nature one by one.

Silence. Darkness. Death.

You are my enem
y
.

I will never surrender to you.

He grew the song in his mind, strengthening the cadence and melody, feeding his own inner song into the fuller harmony.

It was not as easy to cleanse his mind of weakness. The faces of those he had disappointed seemed to point fingers at him. Both the living and the dead demanded so much of him.

Fox accused:
You let me fight him, and he killed me.

Hadi accused:
You let him violate and kill my clan sister.

Earlier victims, mutilated and burned, accused:
You promised to make him pay for our pain, but you ran away.

There was also Xerpen’s request:
Find out the identity of the Aelfae traitor who helped him.

He owed so much to so many.

Revenge, justice, vital information. The Deathsworn owed him all those things. One question, though, encompassed and transcended them all. If Finnadro could understand
this one thing
, he felt he would be able to extract anything else he needed from the Deathsworn.

Why?

Why did you torture, rape, and kill so many people? Why do you serve the darkness instead of the light?

He had hunted beasts, interrogated criminals, and executed the guilty, but this was the one question none of them ever answered.

Why are you a monster?

Dindi grabbed Lothlo’s fallen hammer and smacked the nearest arms away from her, then pulled Yastara free of the menace. The thing attacked Dindi. Tackled her. She went down, felt its mouth, its slobber burning her like acid, seeking to bite her throat, suck her dry.

Talons grabbed Dindi and Lothlo lifted her up. Yastara flew beside him.

No games now. They were all fleeing for their lives.

But the pain had not stopped. Agony still electrified Dindi. Beneath her, a terrible sound reverberated up her leg, accompanied by a sharp pain in her calf.

She looked down…

The Mud Monster had latched onto her leg
by its mucking teeth
.

Dindi tried to shake it off, without success. The agony was too much to bear.

They flew back in the direction of the tribehold.

If you cannot dislodge it, human girl, the bird Lothlo said directly into her mind, I am going to plunge all of us into the Black Well rather than let this abomination get near the other Aelfae. Better we three die killing it than let it spread its foulness to the others
…