The Bitter Seed of Magic

Chapter Forty-Seven

She regarded me with curiosity. ‘What would this counteroffer be?’

‘An extension of his pain, both mental and physical,’ I stated, ‘as due recompense for his interference in your business and mine.’

She swayed down towards me, relaxing her grip on Tavish. ‘Tell me.’

‘Agree to grant me my boon first, and I’ll do better than tell you, I’ll show you. If my actions give you pleasure, you’ll tell me how to break the fertility curse; if not I’ll drink whatever is contained in this’—I held up the bull’s horn—‘either now, or at sunset tomorrow.’ It was win/win for her, and might just buy me—and Tavish—some time.

Tavish’s shout of denial cut off sharply as a loop of the eel’s body tightened around his neck.

‘Done, little sidhe.’ She opened her mouth and gave a loud croaking caw. The dome filled with the sound of wings flapping and a huge raven appeared. He landed on her shoulder, his long talons digging into her flesh for purchase.

Was it Jack? It was difficult to tell— No, this bird’s eyes were black; Jack’s were blue. So if Jack wasn’t working for the Morrígan, why had he been stalking me?

The Morrígan turned and made a low crooning noise to the raven. He rubbed his head affectionately against her cheek, and two of his glossy black feathers floated to the ground, then he flapped his wings, took off and vanished.

She indicated the feathers. ‘Your boon, little sidhe.’

I picked them up. They felt like ordinary feathers; there was nothing magical about them that I could discern. ‘How do they work?’

‘You will know when the time comes,’ she said dismissively. ‘But remember, the boon will only work for this one night. Now’—she squeezed Tavish more in excitement than anything else, eliciting another muffled groan from him—‘show me.’

I tucked the feathers safely in my back jeans pocket. ‘You need to let him go,’ I said, pointing at Tavish.

She obligingly lifted him up above her head height, then threw him down as if she wanted to drive him into the ground. There was a loud cracking noise and he let out an agonised yell. She released him and he collapsed, panting, onto his side, his legs bent at odd angles. Damn. She’d shattered his shins.

I gritted my teeth and told myself he’d heal, and that broken bones were still better than dead. Then, my stomach roiling with nausea, I gave him a hard kick that shoved him onto his back. From the corner of my eye, I saw the Morrígan lick her lips in delight.

I crouched next to him, mentally crossing my fingers that I was right, that the reason Tavish didn’t want me pregnant, whatever it was, was powerful enough to make him go along with me. ‘Okay,’ I said, gripping his face so he could see mine. His eyes were muddy-grey with pain. ‘This is how it’s going to go. If you stop me, or alter in any way what I do, or allow it to be altered by anyone other than myself or the Morrígan before sunset tomorrow, I give my word it will be as if I have already drunk this.’

‘Doll! You mustnae drink—’

‘Up to you, Tavish,’ I interrupted him. Then keeping my eyes fixed on his, I lifted the bull’s horn two-handed and slammed it down into his gut. He roared, the sound filling the blood-dome, his face contorting in agony. I clamped my lips together, desperately swallowing back the bile that rose in my throat. Then using my will and brute force, and ignoring the sickening squelching sounds, I twisted the horn until it was firmly embedded into the ground beneath him, pinning him in place. It wouldn’t hold for ever, but maybe just long enough to stop her dragging him off. Another wave of dizziness blurred my vision, and I forced myself to look up at the Morrígan.

She wasn’t looking quite as happy as I’d hoped. ‘You present me with a conundrum, little sidhe. If I say I am not pleased, you or I will have to remove my son’s horn for you to drink. But I cannot deny the truth of the matter; I do feel some satisfaction at the kelpie’s discomfort, even more so by how you have caused it.’

Behind my back, I crossed my fingers, for real this time.

‘Because of that, we will conclude our bargain tomorrow at sunset. I will leave you to your business now.’ She bent over Tavish. Shoving her arms under his shoulders and thighs, she tried to pick him up.

Shit. I’d expected her to drag him by the chain, which would’ve given me some time.

She smiled at me, a smile that said I should know better than to try and fool a goddess, and she kept on pulling at him, the muscles straining in her slender arms. He struggled against her, screaming, and kept on screaming and struggling as the horn embedded itself further in his body to keep from being torn from the ground. I clenched my fists, trying not to heave. She lowered her mouth to his in a kiss and thankfully, he fell limp and silent. This time when she lifted him, the horn slid easily from the ground.

Fuck. That wasn’t what I wanted to happen.

‘Until sunset tomorrow, little sidhe,’ she said, and slithered quickly towards the bronze pool.

The gold chain trailed after her, then tautened.

I staggered to my feet and shambled frantically as fast as I could after them.

She coiled herself round into the pool.

I shambled faster. I had to reach him before she took him into the water.

Her head and torso began shrinking, the pale green colour darkening to match the eel part of her body.

My vision blurred; there were two Tavishes in her arms now.

The pool erupted into a geyser of water and they disappeared.

The water smoothed out into stillness.

Desperate, I fell to my hands and knees next to the silver knife pinning the gold chain to the ground. Please let me be right. Gripping the chain with my left hand on one side of the knife, I cupped my right as I delved inside myself. The small gold key that I’d found after the Morrígan’s visit popped into my right palm. I had to be right. I carefully scooped up the chain from underneath and closed my fingers round it. I pushed my magic out through my skin … please let it work … and the link around the knife shivered, then as I held my breath, it split and broke.

‘Yes!’ I shouted.

I looked at the broken ends of the gold chain, one end in each hand. One linked to Tavish … the other to the Morrígan.

I pulled the left one, the one nearest my heart.

A strong wind buffeted me whipping my hair into my eyes, a thundering noise filled my ears and darkness descended around me. Sharp talons closed around my arms, piercing my skin and then I was lifted, dangling, into the air. Yelping with shock and fear, I looked up. A huge raven had me by the wrists.

The Morrígan’s boon.

And my trip to the Tower—but I didn’t want to go yet, not without Malik.

It flapped its wings, and as we started to ascend, I looked down at the grassy ground and bronze pool receding into the distance. A long black figure was now lying half-in, half-out of the pool. Was it the eel? Or—?

The figure flung its arms out.

It was Tavish.

Heartfelt relief and guilt filled me. He was free—if you could call being stuck in a blood-circle in the middle of nowhere in Between freedom. Now all I had to do was hope he’d leave the Old Donn’s horn where it was, or I’d be the one with something I didn’t want thrust inside me. My stomach curdled, a combination of that thought and what I’d done to Tavish.

Space wavered as the raven flew us out of the blood-circle.

Nothingness closed round me, leaching into my eyes, drifting up my nose, crawling down my throat. Unseen hands with odd-shaped fingers and claws grabbed at me, pinching, pulling and yanking. Something jerked at my legs, and one of the bird’s talons ripped through the skin of my left wrist, its grip loosening— Then I was hanging by only one arm and I screamed, the sound muffled in my own ears as fleshy, muddy-tasting lips stole the scream out of my mouth. Above me the raven gave a loud croaking caw, half warning, half desperation …

Space wavered again.

And we flew into the night sky over London, the heavy feeling in my bones telling me this was the humans’ world. Stars glittered in the sky above, rain splattered my face, and the cold spring wind cut through me, raising goosebumps over my body.

Beneath me the Tower of London came into view.

My throat constricted with trepidation. It was where I wanted to go … but the boon had been for two trips, one for me, the other for Malik. Without him, I had no back-up.

The raven sped towards the Tower, its talons digging painfully into my wrist as the noisy downdraught from its wings buffeted me, and sent me twisting in its grip.

Briefly closing my eyes against the vertigo, I shoved my hand in my jeans pocket, clutching for the feathers. There was only one left.

I peered down. We were over the grassy moat.

I rubbed the feather over my bloody neck and dropped it, shouting out with my mind for Malik to find it, to use it.

The thick grey stone of the Tower’s curtain wall flashed beneath us, then we were above the open space of the interior.

I shouted for Malik again.

The raven flew straight at the bluey-grey walls of the White Tower, the oldest part of the castle, and I swallowed, half-wanting to close my eyes, as the solid stone filled my vision—

—and as we passed through the wall as if it didn’t exist, the sudden lightness of my body told me we’d once again left the humans’ world and were now back in Between.

The raven dropped me.

The stone flagged floor hurtled up to meet me, too fast. I tried to tuck myself into a ball and roll, but instead landed hard on my shoulder. Pain shot down my arm and across my back, the breath whooshed out of my lungs, and a whole Milky Way of stars spun in my vision.

A hand touched my face—

And the memory rushed into me.