Page 162
Story: Queens of Mist and Madness
‘Agenor?’ a sharp voice interrupted before I could finish.
It was Nenya, climbing up the hill in her swirling black cloak, her face even paler than usual thanks to the waxy substance she and the other vampires used to protect their skin from the sunlight. Lyn came trotting after her on her short legs, wings flaring out every few seconds to propel her up a particularly steep part of the slope.
Blood magic.
Vampire magic.
Upon reflection, perhaps I should indeed leave this part of the work to others.
‘It’s a blood mark,’ Nenya added as she came within a few feet, a fraction out of breath. ‘Bakaru has used them from time to time. Although I don’t want to know how much blood she spilled to set up one of this size, but …’
‘Would a few hundred dead citizens suffice?’ Tared grimly suggested.
Her lip curled up. ‘Oh, yes. That would do the trick.’
Those poor people pinned to the wall ahead. I glanced at the dead alves again, then at the horde of their living next of kin, who were irately crowding up on the invisible line between our side and the territory the Mother had claimed for herself – mere minutes until some of them recklessly tried to follow and suffer the same fate, I estimated.
If we even had that long.
‘Fastest way to remove the mark is to kill the Mother,’ Nenya said hoarsely. Her face was too tight – as if she was about to propose cutting off her own leg to solve the deadlock. ‘I think Bakaru would be able to undo it, but there’s no way in hell you’ll convince him to get involved personally. So as far as I know, the best we can try is to temporarily … subdue it. For long enough that our army can cross the line, at least.’
Edored gave a deafening snort before anyone else could react, scowling at her with a suspicion that surprised me. ‘You mean you’re going to try yourself, don’t you?’
She grimaced. ‘Well—’
‘And what’s that going to cost you, Nen?’
‘Blood,’ she said defiantly, red lips twisting into a humourless smile. ‘Lots of it. Good thing that I’ve survived it before, being bled dry to the last drop.’
The flash of panic on Lyn’s face told me I wasn’t the only one who remembered the way she’d shown up in Zera’s temple after her last visit to Bakaru, pale as a sheet and wavering on her feet. ‘Isn’t there someone else who could …’
‘Doubt it,’ Nenya said, shrugging. ‘You’re going to need a strong blood mage, and an unbound one, too, because I figure opening the way to an enemy army rather qualifies as an attempt to harm the Mother. I’m the only member of Bakaru’s bloodline who was unbound yesterday. You’re not going to find a mage with enough power outside his house.’
Alyra squeaked on my shoulder.
Below the hill, a spine-chilling howl of pain rose from the front ranks of the alves. For a heartbeat, the wave of bodies moved back, and I saw with a gaping hollowness in my stomach that two new corpses had added themselves to the pile, collapsed unceremoniously over the bodies of their fallen comrades.
‘If you can temper the magic for long enough to let us pass,’ Agenor said, speaking twice as fast as usual, ‘I suppose that means we won’t be able to cross the line in the other direction either, once you’ve exhausted your powers? Meaning we won’t be able to retreat?’
Fuck.
So much for our plan to attack and retreat as often as possible, buying time with as few casualties as we could manage.
‘Yes,’ Nenya said brusquely. ‘That would be a consequence.’
A single, resounding moment of silence.
‘The alternative is packing our bags and leaving, isn’t it?’ Rosalind said, crossing her arms with an unamused cock of her head.
‘She’s not going to let us leave alive, anyway,’ Creon muttered with a glance at the distant city – at the White Hall, where the Mother doubtlessly sat cackling about the perfect trap she’d set. ‘So if there’s going to be a fight, we might as well attack first and hope for the best.’
Agenor’s shoulders sagged half an inch in resignation. But all he said was, ‘Whenever you’re ready, then, Nenkhet.’
She turned without another word, striding back down the hill on her knee-high leather boots, that heavy cloak billowing out behind her.
Edored violently elbowed me aside to storm after her. As he caught up, halfway down the slope, I just heard the loud start of another indignant outburst – ‘Alone, Nen? You thought I was going to let you …’
The rest of his sentence was lost to the noise of the clamouring alvish crowd.
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