Day 17 of Midwinter, Nightfall Latest content published on NoveI(F)ire.net

The Watchful Crown, Falias

Annwn

The room was dark, the lack of doors or windows preventing the light of the full moon from coming in. In the center of the room, Brigid lay unmoving on a stone dais. She looked peaceful upon first glance, but her absolute lack of movement was unnatural, as if her bodily function had been slowed to a fraction of its normal state.

Still, she was as beautiful as ever. Her golden locks tumbled across her fire-red dress. A white cloth served as a blindfold, and coarse ropes bound her neck, wrists, and ankles to the stone dais. The binding seemed unnecessary to me, but Father was nothing if not thorough.

Though it had been only minutes since I had finished purging my own body of the poison that Ethadon had hoped to kill me with, I could feel my strength beginning to return. Even without being fully recovered, I was fairly certain that Dawnpiercer would have the same effect on Brigid as it had on both Sétanta and me.

Dawnpiercer

Burns away illusions, shadows, and afflictions, revealing truth and exposing deception.

I stepped closer to Brigid, unsure what was keeping her immobile and asleep, but banking on the affliction's part of my boon. I glanced back at the trap door. There was nothing in the room that I could set on top of it, and I knew the guards were close behind me. Though it would be very dangerous for them to poke their heads up through that very narrow entrance, I knew that some fool would break the seal.

Moving quickly, I removed the white cloth from Brigid’s face, then gently moved the coils of hair out of her eyes. A feeling twisted inside me, causing a moment’s hesitation.

“No, Belenus,” I said sternly. “We made a deal.”

THEY ARE A BLIGHT ON THE REALM. ALL OF THEM.

“All of US,” I said to him, reminding him that I, too, had earned my domain. The body he now inhabited was a part of the blight he referred to.

I focused all of my reserve strength and attempted to wrestle back control of my limbs while Belenus pondered my words. Finally, I managed to reach out to touch Brigid’s arm. A surge of magic flowed from me and into her as I activated Dawnpiercer.

Her body convulsed as she took in a deep breath. Coughing, she sat up, fire in her eyes…literal fire. Seeing the flickering flames in her eyes, I backed up.

“Peace, cousin,” I said, holding up my hands. I had rehearsed what I wanted to say on the ride from Murias, but everything had changed since then. The words I’d prepared disappeared, and in their place, a jumbled, but heartfelt apology emerged. “I made a mistake, Brigid, a very big mistake…But I am here to atone.”

Brigid turned her fiery gaze from me, surveying the room. Her eyes lingered on the trap door. From below it, I could hear the commotion of the approaching guards. She seemed to immediately grasp our situation. “What is your plan?” she asked.

I opened my mouth to tell her that I had originally planned to sunbeam us out of the tower, but couldn’t, since there was no sun at the moment, then stopped myself. She knew only Tadg the changeling, not Tadg the Tuatha Dé Danann…corrupted Tuatha Dé Danann, I reminded myself. She had no idea of the battle I was waging to hold Belenus at bay.

“We are going to have to fight our way out,” I said, drawing Vowkeeper.

She nodded. “Where are we?”

“The eastern spire of the Watchful Crown…a penthouse with no view.” I didn’t know where my unexpected levity was coming from. Something about the hopelessness of the whole situation must have cracked me to the core.

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Brigid studied me. Her eyes narrowed, and I realized that she could see the change in me, though I suspected she couldn’t truly grasp what I had become. Seeming to come to a decision, she said, “You take the front. I’ll clean up any who try to flank us.”

I nodded in the nick of time, just as the trapdoor opened. In one motion, Brigid turned to face it, her red dress flaring behind her like flames. And as if an extension of her gown, a bright red flash flared to life, shooting from her to roast the top half of the guard who’d risen through the trapdoor. He crumpled back into the hole, his body smoking.

Brigid wasted no time walking to the lip and filling the stairwell with fire. She screamed, her voice filled with fury at her betrayal, her rage transforming into a searing flame that leapt and twisted from her. When she stepped back, the flames dampening, I jumped straight down into the hole in the floor. I landed amid a macabre scene of death and dying. Changelings wailed as they either attempted to stanch the flames on their friends or burned alive themselves.

Vowkeeper flashed as I walked through the carnage, bringing only more death. I whirled, my blade severing an arm here and a leg there. I recognized the face of a young man as he attacked from the side just before a fireball large enough to fill a quarter of the room rocketed him into the wall.

I gestured to the stairs, shouting to be heard over the crackling flames and the screams of the dying. “Each of the floors below us has a purpose, and we’ll need to make our way through all of them. Immediately below us is a storage room, and below that, the general holding prison. From there, the barracks, then the armory, then the warden’s office. Finally, the tribunal room on the fourth floor. That is the room we need to watch out for. There is a magic suppression field on the entire floor. All dangerous criminals are made to pass through it before they are imprisoned within the spire.”

Brigid nodded. “I understand. The field robs them of their magic at the same time they are robbed of their freedom, whether they are criminals… or annoying relations.” She strode to the stairs, leaning to pick up a warhammer without breaking her stride. It had been easy to underestimate her, given her flowing gowns and graceful demeanor, but seeing her now, I was reminded why she was known as the Fiery Queen. The hammer she’d retrieved had both a bludgeoning side and a side designed to pierce armor and flesh. She’d wreathed the weapon in flame, making herself even more terrifying.

I breathed a sigh of relief when we found the ninth floor was empty, Gaible and Ethadon nowhere to be seen. The same was true of the eighth floor–though I suspected it had been where the contingent of dead and dying guards had come from. The general holding prison had been emptied, just like the four towers at the top of this spire.

It was on the seventh floor that we encountered the next wave of guards. As we rushed into the room, I realized that I felt no remorse or guilt at what I had done and continued to do. It felt…odd. All my life, I had been plagued by thoughts about what was right vs. wrong, and lamenting any of my own actions that fell short.

For the first time in my life, I felt numb. I killed because it was necessary, and I felt neither guilt nor joy in doing it. I wondered, briefly, if I had managed to wrestle only my body away from Belenus, and whether the apathy I felt was really his rather than my own. I hoped that this was the case. The alternative was even more frightening.

A wall of flame pushed the soldiers back. As several tried to move around the flame, I activated Burning Pulse to either side of the wall. Screams echoed throughout the tower as the smell of cooked flesh filled the room. Brigid shot me a quizzical look even as she thrust the flaming hammer to impale the nearest enemy.

It went like this through the next two floors. On the fifth floor, Brigid’s anger seemed to wane enough that she offered the warden, a man we’d both known well, the chance to let us leave peacefully. He would not step aside, though, and ultimately burned like the others.

Those who were left in the city were like lambs to our slaughter, with none strong enough to stand in our way. All the children of Danu were on their way to the front lines, meaning Brigid and I were likely the only people in Falias able to wield boon magic. The path of death we left behind us was incredible. The city would be burying its dead for days, if not weeks to come. I knew that I would never be allowed back into Falias after this, but I felt oddly unmoved by the realization.

When we’d finished clearing the fifth floor, I moved around the burning bodies to kick a window frame hard enough to send the window, the frame, and sections of the surrounding walls flying. We had no intention of entering the magical suppression floor; instead, we dropped through the shattered window onto the roof of the Watchful Crown near where I had met with Ruadan only hours before.

The streets around us were quiet, despite the smoke that streamed from the windows above us. A few people stood on the ground below, clearly having stopped to watch the light show from the eastern spire. Nearby, the other two spires loomed over us.

I pointed in the direction of the southern gate. “That is where we need to go.”

“To escape the city?” she asked.

I fought to find the correct muscles to move my mouth to respond. Belenus, it seemed, was rewiring the way my nerves worked. Soon, I feared I would be unable to lock him out. As it was, I could feel his growing effect on my actions…and see it as well, I thought, looking down to the black feathers that edged out from beneath my gauntlets.

“To go to war,” I replied.