Page 27 of Beneath Swan Lake (Deadly Endings #2)

Getting Ray, Thomas, and Rapunzel out of the clearing isn’t as hard as it could be. Together Ray and I can shadow hop as one and bring others along, so our power is amplified when we both press out palms to Thomas’ chest.

Once they are free, I go back for Dahlia. In a lot of ways she’s like my mom too, and I would never leave her behind.

“Dahlia!” I call out, shadow hopping around the base of the green pillars. The smoke isn’t quite as thick, but it still hurts to breathe, and I can see the glow of fire nearby. The inferno has gotten into Sherwood, and everything could go up in flames in a matter of moments if we aren’t careful. Dealing with fire in a forest is a dangerous thing, and there’s no telling how far it will spread. For now the space around the missing tavern is mostly smoldering embers and smoke, because there’s nothing really left to burn in here. Even the bodies of the fallen are burnt to a crisp.

Ray’s mother doesn’t respond, and my anxiety spikes. The last thing I need is her death weighing on my conscience, but she remains unresponsive, and I see no sign of movement through the smoke. Frustration wells up inside me, and I let out a groan before calling for her again .

Sheer panic is starting to set in as I turn in circles, popping in and out of the shadows looking for a sign. I’m about to start circling the area again when I hear a voice call out my name.

I spin around at the weak cry, spotting Dahlia not far from me. She’s close to the ground, and when I shadow hop over to her I instantly notice the blood. “What happened?”

She offers me a dry laugh, and I help her to her feet. She’s got a large gash in her leg, and I’m hoping that if Rapunzel isn’t too exhausted from Thomas, she might have the energy to heal Dahlia. I don’t know if anyone else was injured, or who will be looking for my princess following the destruction of the tavern. I believe she’s the only healer in the area, and certainly the only one with magic.

Dahlia’s response is weak, just like her cry for help. “Didn’t jump far enough out of the way of the beanstalk.”

“Beanstalk?” I ask her, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. If I try to lift Dahlia she’s going to smack me for it. “What’s going on? Why was Camelot here?”

She shakes her head with a cough. “I don’t really know. The soldiers arrived like a wave with that manic woman at the front. Said if one Kingdom didn’t want her, she’d find another and do the King’s bidding. I couldn’t hear anything else around the screams. They rained fire into the tavern f-from the outside.”

Dahlia begins to cough as I drag her through the shadows. Ray and Rapunzel are far enough away with Thomas, and the rest of his siblings will surely already be out of harm’s way. Those kids operate as a unit, and when danger strikes they unite as one. Genny or Elsie will be the one taking control, and I think Elsie will secretly like it if she gets to be in charge.

I bring Dahlia to Thomas and Rapunzel without asking her any more questions, and she slumps to the ground with a hiss as the shadows fade. Ray is there within the next second helping his mother shift around, until she smacks his hands away and begins to cough, shifting into a more comfortable position with her leg all on her own.

Looking up, I stare through the trees. There are some travelers here, taking refuge from the burning tavern and the fires heading north. Wind blows past us, and that’s going to make things worse, not better. At least it’s carrying the smoke and the flames north and not to the east towards us. There are probably two dozen extra people, mostly the young and very old, sitting, waiting in the trees. I can see all of Ray’s younger siblings huddled nearby, minding their distance while Rapunzel works. It’s quite a crowd in this little area, but at the same time it doesn’t seem like nearly enough refugees.

And behind us, I can feel the pull of Death. If we want answers, we have to speak with the dead, and I doubt I can drag Ray away from his family right now. I turn and stare back the way I came from as Dahlia and Raymundo mutter to each other, probably talking about the family.

There’s little white blips off in the distance. Spirits are everywhere, and with this much Death populating the area it will only draw wandering spirits here. The space will be overwhelmed by Death until we reap the spirits, and for a moment my mind drifts to Modred.

A wraith. I think his soul is lingering by Camelot, where he seems to hold the most rage. That’s what wraiths do, they loiter in the places they feel the most rage. If he is drawn by the gathering of Death, he could show up and start devouring souls. That would make the wraith grow,making it that much harder to reap him.

I know I can’t let that happen. Even if Ray cannot help me, I have to go and deal with the dead.

“They aren’t going to give you answers easily,” Cyrus says, walking closer with his arms crossed. His eyes are looking off in the distance the same way I am staring, and I truly think his cat eyes see more than any living being should. If he can’t see the spirits, he’s at least hyper aware of where they are. I’ve seen him react to too many dead souls now to think otherwise.

I still struggle to trust him, even if he was Rapunzel’s only company in a castle that made her feel alienated. I really don’t like how much the Cheshire Cat is invading our inner circle of friends, digging his way in. He’s from Wonderland after all. And from our last meeting, the Queen seemed well aware of his presence there.

Cheshire Cats are mischievous, proven by the easy way he took down so many people by slashing their throats. His cold response in the face of Death is questionable, but he hasn’t turned on us yet. He did provide access to Morgan, but I'm not sure whether that meeting went well or poorly. She shared information with us, but there’s a chance she turned right around and told her half-brother that we were in the kingdom. I’m just not sure who I can trust anymore outside of a select few.

“They’re dead,” I tell Cyrus. “The spirits need Reapers to pass on. If they don’t want to wither in torment for an undetermined amount of time, they will answer the questions we ask.”

He shrugs. “They pledged their loyalty to Camelot and the Knights of the Round Table. You don’t think there’s a vendetta against the family they attacked?”

I glance at Ray, who seems to be the only other one listening. His head is cocked to the side and his green eyes linger on us as we chat. He stays by his brother’s side, though the wound doesn’t look as severe now that Rapunzel’s had the chance to work her magic. The problem is the wound isn’t healing fully, seemingly giving her trouble.

She’s starting to tire, I can see the signs. She stops pressing her hands to Thomas’ skin to drop them to the earth, taking a breath. “I’m trying. There’s something in the way. I can heal the burns, but inside there’s something stopping me.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Ray snaps. He scrubs a hand tiredly over his face, and I can see the stress wearing on him. It’s the only thing that keeps me from snapping back at him for getting angry at Rapunzel. This certainly isn’t her fault.

She lifts her head, snapping at him before I do. “I can only do what my magic allows. There’s resistance. The physical wounds can be healed, but there’s magic in the way.”

“Phoenix fire?” Genny asks, her arms wound around her middle. She glances over towards me and Cyrus, but I swear her gaze lingers on the cat. I’m not sure how the rumor got back to her, or if she always suspected what the fire might be, but it gets the bystanders whispering at the possibility. “Is it deadly?”

“I don’t know anything about it,” Rapunzel replies honestly. “I need a minute, then I’ll finish healing what I can. It should be enough for now.”

Her words linger in the air, like an ominous token. There’s no certainty that the magic inside him won’t cause further harm.

Odette gasps, and I glance up at her. “W-who are they?”

She’s stepping back, pointing back towards the beanstalks that covered the tavern. I pause and do a double take, realizing that the Swan Princess is no longer missing an eye. It’s a task to stay focused and not ask about that, but I’m sure Odette or Ray will have something to say about that once we have the time to talk.

I spin, reaching for my scythe at the same time Ray jumps up. But my fingers pause as I take in what she sees, my interest in the Swan Princess increasing.

After a moment, I turn back to stare at her. The blips have moved closer, and now there are a few I can make out. “Those would be spirits, Princess.”

~~~

Odette comes with us into the trees, and we leave the rest of Ray’s family with some trusted friends. Dahlia is insistent that we do what needs to be done and return, because the fire is still spreading. If it gets far enough it’ll run into the Barrens, and there’s nothing to burn there. That would be the best case scenario now that the flames have spread. Even two Reapers can’t stop the forest from igniting as quickly as it is, and what we really need is rain.

If the fire somehow crosses that desolate wasteland, then that would be a problem for Wonderland. I’m hoping the winds change to northeast and stop the problem in the Barrens all by themselves. The sky has grown darker, but I’m not counting on rain.

“Speak your peace,” I tell the first soldier, a collection of twenty deep waiting in the burned clearing around the green stalks. There were a handful of travelers through Sherwood too, but no one I recognize. They didn’t need to die, and we took care of them as soon as they were discovered before turning our attention to the men from Camelot. There should be more spirits lingering around, but we can only locate these twenty. It looks like the rest scattered between the trees, hiding or running from Death.

The man is tall, and he lifts his chin as though to ignore me. “Long live the Queen.”

I glance at Ray, who’s pacing back and forth with an arrow in his hand. Odette is between us a few steps back, staring at the dead with wide and somewhat fearful eyes. I have a whole lot of questions about how she got her eye back and why she can suddenly see the dead. But those are questions for another time.

“Queen?” Ray says, continuing to pace but keeping his gaze on the spirit. “Not King? You’re allies for the Mad Queen?”

The soldier keeps staring ahead. “Long live the Queen.”

“They aren’t going to answer our questions just because we ask them,” I tell Ray, rolling my eyes. “They are sacrifices to their cause. The men that fled lead this charge, and these are their losses.”

A muscle in the man’s jaw twitches, but that’s all he gives me. I catch Ray lifting his arrow from the corner of my eye, and it might be a good thing he’s only had the time to go back and collect one. He looks ready to start stabbing all the spirits out of rage, and as fun as that sounds it won’t help us any.

“Why did you bother with Ysanna?” Odette asks before I could voice my next question. I glance back at her, and even Ray looks surprised that she spoke. I guess some of the shock wore off. “She’s an outsider to Camelot. Why was she leading the charge?”

“Leading,” another soldier bites out, glaring at Odette. “She stumbled into our troops yesterday and made a deal. She wanted access to Camelot to speak with the King, which we had no intention of honoring. She learned of our target and wanted to help. So we gave her the one job that would lead to death with absolute certainty.”

“Phoenix fire always kills?” Odette asks, surprise ghosting across her face.

A third speaks up. “The fire burns until there’s nothing left. It’s a parasite, feasting on the host until all that’s left is the fire. The only thing that can stop it is water, and you don’t have enough of it to stop the blaze in Sherwood.”

I stiffen, glancing at Ray. He’s shaking, the shadows leaking from his skin. I doubt the spirits have any idea his brother is currently trying to fight burns from the fire, but their jabs are only adding to his rage. He’s definitely going to snap and once he does I’m not going to get any answers out of them. All he has to do is get triggered and he’ll start stabbing the spirits, causing more problems than solutions. I have a very limited window before he loses his cool.

“And where did you get it?” Odette goes on, and I’m mildly impressed she stays this focused with all the different bits of information. She’s probably used to steering the topic. I’ve seen the royals of Mystica manipulate a conversation in their favor. “Arthur has never boasted about Phoenix fire. Those birds are very hard to come by from my understanding.”

I exchange a glance with Ray. Does she actually know that or is she just pretending?

“Arthur also has access to Griffin spines,” I add, thinking of Rapunzel. When Modred was alive, he stabbed them into her arms to hurt her, and it made it difficult to heal. “There seem to be many mythical things happening in Camelot. I’m starting to see why Arthur can’t stand the Reapers butting in.”

One soldier turns to his friends, until they are all looking around at each other. Then the laughter begins, building among the group, until the spirits cackle loudly enough that it’s making their bodies float and move, their souls reveling in whatever madness they knew in life.

“Arthur,” one of the soldiers says, wiping nonexistent tears from his eyes, “You think we bow to the King?”

“Who else?” Ray snaps, and the spirit turns his attention towards him.

“To the Knights of course,” he says, shooting us a wide grin. “They get to collectively work with the Queen, and we get the benefits of following our one true leader.”

The information has me reeling as I try to see more clearly the picture he’s painting. The spirits begin to laugh again, and I can tell these souls are going to splinter quickly. They want to force our hand and be reaped. They seem well aware of how to play this game.

I just don’t understand why.

“Who are the Knights to the Queen?” Odette asks, and she’s kind of useful having around. She asks all the right questions. “Surely they don’t move from a position of power at the Round Table to bow in servitude at the feet of another. ”

The first soldier scowls, moving closer to her. Ray growls but she stands her ground, and I have to give her credit – she knows how to contain her fear. “They are the blades that wield her power. An extension to the Queen’s house of cards.”

I don’t know enough about the Queen’s inner circle to guess who the Knights of the Round table represent in her court. It’s all just extra details that don’t truly matter right now. They are feeding us useless details, and I’m pretty sure it’s meant as a distraction.

One of the spirits drifts forward, beginning to float. That’s not good. He points a finger towards the princess. “You, girl. I remember you.”

Odette frowns, lifting her chin. “Your Royal Highness, thank you very much. And I don’t remember anyone from Arthur’s court, Knights or otherwise. Swan Lake doesn’t do business with Camelot much anymore.”

The spirits begin murmuring, and I glance towards Ray once more. He looks ready to snap, but the spirit speaks again before he can. “That’s why.”

“What?” Odette snaps.

The spirit cackles, shaking his head. “Arthur wanted a spy in Swan Lake. He was enraged because of the death of Nascien when you were young, Princess.”

Odette’s staring at him, her brows furrowed. “Who?”

Another spirit chuckles. “You may have known of him by another name. Seraphe, perhaps? ”

Her eyes widen, and she stumbles back a step. Ray is immediately beside her, his guarded eyes narrowed on the spirits. He wraps an arm around her, and he’s got to be on the edge of snapping. “What is it, Birdie?”

She licks her lips. “Seraphe. That’s the name of my suitor who died the night that Dima…”

Her voice trails, and I imagine it’s got to do with her eye as she raises her hand and traces along that side of her face. I didn’t know there was a suitor around at that time; it looks like I have a lot to catch up on.

“And Arthur’s mad about that?” Ray asks, raising a brow.

“Always has been,” a spirit boasts. “Too bad this one made it out for a second time.”

Ray growls and I just shake my head and interrupt. “Why did you go against Arthur? What do the Knights have that the King doesn’t? Surely aligning with the Queen can’t be in your best interests.”

The ghost laughs. “Well, you’ll never know now, will you?”

I scoff, rocking back on my heels. The spirits aren’t wavering, and the only thing our questions seem to do is incite more laughter. They are locked into their beliefs, however misguided.

One catches my eye, its head twisting unnaturally. When ghosts begin to distort, their forms contorting and their presence turning ominous, it’s a clear warning—their souls are fracturing. If they shatter completely, they become ruthless, unleashing chaos upon the land. They used to congregate in the Barrens, but since the wall around Tressa fell I haven’t noticed the same pattern. I don’t want any of these to splinter and ultimately turn into wraiths like Modred.

“Ray,” I say, and he glances up at me, pain in his eyes once more. “It’s time.”

He blows out a breath but nods, and Odette looks between us before speaking. “What happens now?”

“Now,” I say, drawing my scythe over my shoulder. The blade glides easily through the empty air, opening the rift to send the spirits onward. Her jaw falls open at the sight, and half the spirits pull back while the rest lean in, divided. We should’ve had her watch when we reaped the innocent souls earlier so this wasn’t so surprising. “We send them into the afterlife.”