Wicked Magic (31 page)

Authors: Cheyenne McCray

BOOK: Wicked Magic

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Ceithlenn was another concern altogether.

Rhiannon missed a demon with her spellfire ball and the Fomorii lunged for her. She whirled, turning her back on it and dropping. Instead of catching her in her face with its claws, it raked its nails across the body armor on Rhiannon's back as it dove for her. The demon gripped her clothing in its fist.

As the Fomorii jerked Rhiannon backward, its jaws set to bite her neck, Rhiannon screamed.

Keir roared and chopped off the demon's hand, releasing Rhiannon. In another powerful swing, Keir beheaded the beast.

His rage grew beyond the heat of fire from a forge. His anger was insurmountable as he witnessed more PSF officers dropping to the grassy field, either lifeless or injured. And he felt it in his heart each time a D'Danann went down at the claws of a demon and moved on to Summerland. At least three of his warriors had passed.

With a quick glance at Ceithlenn, Keir saw her satisfied expression as she sucked in more and more souls. The screams and noise from the stadium had quieted as she took life after life.

How were they going to destroy such a powerful and evil goddess?

Despite the fact they had outnumbered the forces of good at the beginning, the Fomorii ranks began to thin. Countless piles of silt littered the field along with the bodies of PSF officers.

After Keir beheaded another demon and another, he realized the tide had turned.

Their team had destroyed most of the Fomorii.

He and Rhiannon looked at each other. He gave a sharp nod, and in silent agreement they both started toward Ceithlenn. Keir from the air, Rhiannon on foot. The other witches and their familiars began flowing toward the goddess, too, while still fighting.

The ground shook.

Rhiannon cried out as she fell and landed on her backside.

Great pounding noises, like monstrous footsteps, sounded on the field.

Keir whirled in the air. Two giants headed toward them. Both swinging great spiked clubs.

One of the creatures was hideous and blue, with horns sprouting from its forehead. The monster roared and swung its club back and forth like a great elephant's tusk. Its arms were long enough to hang down to the grassy field.

The other monster was just as revolting, including the massive hornsâbut almost human looking. Its skin was tanned and it had long, lank black hair. But what captured Keir's attention was the large, glowing crimson eye hanging from a chain around its neck.

Balor's eye.

Keir knew it as sure as his heart beat in his chest.

Silver and Rhiannon had visioned these two giantsâJunga and Darkwolf, distorted by Ceithlenn's magic.

The giants charged them, swinging their spiked clubs in huge arcs.

PSF officers regrouped behind their shields and fired rounds of ammunition at the beasts.

The bullets bounced off the monsters' flesh. No matter where the bullets hit, they did not harm the beasts. Even a shot to an eye did nothing, as if the beasts were made of impenetrable steel.

Then the monsters were upon the PSF.

Officers screamed as the clubs slammed into their shields. The clubs knocked the men and women into the air like fall leaves blown from a tree in a sharp gust of wind.

Zephyr, Copper's honeybee familiar, zipped through the air toward the human-like monster and attacked. The giant roared and brought his free hand to his face. The bee was actually hurting the giant! Because he was magical, the honeybee never lost his stinger and his sting was more potent than a common bee.

From where he hovered in the air, Keir assessed the rest
of the situation. The witches were binding the last of the Fomorii with their magic, or incapacitating them with spellfire and their familiars helped them.

Ceithlenn still drew in souls. The more she absorbed, the more powerfully she glowed. She even seemed to grow taller, her wings wider.

His heart lurched when he saw the tiny body of Galia just feet from Ceithlenn, guarded by Spirit. Keir growled. He would get his revenge on the goddess bitch.

The D'Danann trying to get through Ceithlenn's magical shield continued to fight to no avail, but they had not given up. They attacked over and over again, looking for some spot of weakness in her shield.

“Take out the monsters!” Keir shouted to his fellow warriors.

He and most of the D'Danann charged the creatures that continued to bash their clubs into anyone within reach.

The D'Danann flew through the air and zeroed in on the monsters. Keir aimed his sword at the beast that looked somewhat like a manâonly the monster was four times the height, ten times the width, and malformed. Its face was red and swollen in spots, no doubt from the bee stings.

The beast roared and swung its club up in the air at Keir. He dodged and went for the giant's throat with his sword.

Instead of piercing the monster's flesh, Keir's sword hit what felt like cold iron. The impact and force of the rebound flung him back. He caught himself and barely dodged the spiked club again as the beast cried out. It was almost a human cry.

With a flap of his wings, Keir charged forward. Other D'Danann helped to fight the man-like monster, while additional warriors battled the blue giant.

The D'Danann only served to distract the beasts from hurting the rest of the humans and witches. The monsters swatted at the D'Danann like flies, using their great clubs. Three times the monsters caught warriors with their clubs.

Keir was almost blinded by rage. More than two thousand
years of training made keeping his focus and fighting as natural as breathing.

Nothing the D'Danann did seemed to hurt the monsters in any way. Not a scratch, not a pierce, not a drop of blood. They did nothing but incite the monsters into a more intense frenzy. Only the honeybee had any kind of effect. It was obvious the giant was distracted and angered by the stings.

His frustration mounting, Keir struggled to come up with some solution to harm the monsters, to destroy them. They had to find a way to stop them. The monsters were as invincible as Ceithlenn appeared to be.

From out of nowhere, magical ropes snaked around the ankles of the giants.

Keir jerked his attention to see the witches working together to take down the monsters. All seven witches used their ropes of magic to bind the giants from head to toe. Their ropes wound around and around the monsters.

Rhiannon's face was a mask of both fury and concentration as she held on to a gold magical rope that continued to loop around the blue giant. Silver and Copper aided her, while the other four witches tackled the man-like monster.

Because its entire body was bound by the ropes, the blue monster dropped its club with a shriek and a tremendous crash. It lost its balance and fell onto its back, striking its head on the ground. The earth thundered from the force of the giant's fall, as though an earthquake had struck. The monster struggled against its bonds. It screamed and shrieked and fought the magical ropes.

A few moments later, the other giant fell forward, landing on its chest and covering the great crimson eye. The witches stumbled backward and three of them fell as another quake rocked the ground. The monster roared and tried to get out of its bonds.

Keir took a quick glance at the goddess.

Ceithlenn had lowered her wings and her arms.

She smiled and the very air around her began to pulsate.

All attention turned to Ceithlenn.

Keir's heart thrummed harder. He brushed sweat and blood from his face as he stared at the goddess.

Something was about to happen.

Whatever it was, Keir had no doubt it could mean nothing but more devastation.

Chapter 33

Ceithlenn took a deep breath of sweat and blood, human and Fomorii. She smiled, her body filled with so much heat that the flames of her hair crackled and hissed. This was it. This was the moment she would finally bring her lover, her husband, back from exile.

It didn't matter that all the Fomorii around her had been destroyedâshe had only brought a fraction of her army. Once Balor was here, once the eye was taken from around Darkwolf's throat, Balor would kill the witches and D'Danann with the power of his eye. One look from him and each victim would turn to ash.

Just as the witches finished binding Darkwolf and Junga, Ceithlenn had taken almost every soul in the stadium. The richness of the souls ran through her veins, pounded in her heart, throbbed in her body. The magic built up within her was so heady she shook with it. She had never felt so invincible, so immortal.

Now it was time to focus on bringing Balor to her. “My love,” she said, holding out her arms as if to embrace him. “It is time to return.”

She concentrated on Balor, focused on bringing him to her. Everything around her sparked. Crackled. Glimmered.

The air folded, distorted. Became blurry, wavy.

From her peripheral vision she saw her attackers fall
from the sky or where they stood. Her magic was so powerful the force of it kept her enemies from moving. It pinned them to the ground.

She smiled again as she drew on her image of Balor as she had last seen him. The richness of his brown hair, the angular lines of his face, the tone of his body. She had missed her lover, had missed having him between her thighs, having him inside her. The memory of the last time they had been together now drew him closer to her.

With his eye missing all these centuries, he had been unable to see her beauty. Countless times she had cursed her grandson, the sun god Lugh, and one of the Tuatha D'Danann for taking Balor's eye and sending him to Underworld.

Ceithlenn had been exiled with Balor. After she escaped from Underworld, she never doubted that one day they would be reunited. Stronger. And able to make this Otherworld theirs again.

Together they had planned and planned before her escape.

Part of Balor's essence had remained in the eye. They had developed their magic so well that when Balor's eye washed ashore, they knew at once. And they were ready. When the right being was near, one who wanted power, they were able to influence him through the essence and drive him to pick it up.

Then he belonged to them.

Once the eye was in his hands, the being became known as Darkwolf. In Balor's name, Darkwolf had performed blood rituals and human sacrifices, had killed, stolen, and kidnapped. He had summoned the Fomorii to herald Balor's and Ceithlenn's way to this Otherworld. Through the eye, Ceithlenn and Balor had driven Darkwolf to do everything they wished.

And now, finally,
finally,
it was time to bring Balor back to this Otherworld.

Ceithlenn's body vibrated from the magic emanating from her. She felt the pull of Balor, felt him unite with her soul. She felt it in her heart, her body, between her thighs.

“Yes. Yes!” Ceithlenn held out her arms for her husband. “Come to me, love.”

In the distance, through the blurred and folded air, time, and space, she saw him. Balor's carriage was proud despite the missing eye in the middle of his forehead. His muscles bunched and flexed as he strode toward her through the tunnel now connecting them. He wore only a loincloth, showing his body to perfection.

Ceithlenn's heart beat faster. Her smile grew broader. Heated pleasure rushed through her body the closer Balor came to her.

She gasped and grabbed her belly.

Her magic began to slip away.

Her power was dwindling!

“Hurry, love,” she cried. Bringing her husband to her was taking every ounce of the power she had.

She was fading. Fading.

No! She had to bring him to her. It was time!

“Balor!” she cried, and he moved toward the sound of her voice.

She held her hand out to him. “Ceithlenn!” he shouted as he stretched out his arm.

Their fingers brushed.

The air around them exploded like a mirror shattering into a million fragments.

Ceithlenn shrieked as she flew backward, away from Balor. She landed on her ass, her palms braced on the ground. She rose as her lover fully formed on the field.

Her heart leapt. She had done it!

But now she was weakened.

From her peripheral vision she saw Darkwolf and Junga deflate. Slowly their bodies shifted, squirmed, and returned to their normal forms, the magic ropes loose around them.

Her heart pounded as only a human's could. The Sara part of her recognized what was happening. Her magic that had enslaved them, and kept them in their monstrous shapes, was now broken and she could no longer maintain control over them.

The magical ropes the witches had restrained Junga and Darkwolf with were now too big. The Fomorii and the warlock scrambled out of their bindings.

Balor's eye glowed so brilliantly from Darkwolf's throat the air surrounding them was red. Darkwolf shouted something to Junga that Ceithlenn couldn't hear. Then for some strange reason, Junga morphed to her Elizabeth form. Her more vulnerable form.

“Give the eye to Balor!” Ceithlenn shouted to Darkwolf as she pushed herself to her feet. “Hurry!”

Darkwolf brought his hand to his chest and grasped the eye. The red of it bled through his fingers. He looked at Balor, who headed Darkwolf's way despite his blindness. Balor could sense his own eye.

Ceithlenn shouted again, “Give him the eye, Darkwolf!”

The warlock hesitated.

He grabbed Elizabeth-Junga by her upper arm.

And vanished.

They both vanished.

Ceithlenn shrieked. “No! You bastard, no!”

She cried out to Balor, “Leave this place, my love. Hurry. You must find Darkwolf!”

The god roared so loud it shook the stadium. He started toward Ceithlenn then came up short, likely sensing the D'Danann flying his way.

Balor's voice boomed throughout the stadium. “I will come for you, my Ceith.”

And he disappeared.