A Fair Fight (27 page)

Xurde continued to lead the air forces of the fae, until a rock, thrown by the largest of the Fomoire giants, struck the dragon's wing and dropped him into the field. Xurde continued fighting, sweeping aside a few of the infantrymen, but soon found himself engaged in a battle of titans with the giant who'd taken him out of the skies.

Despite their victory over their own giant, Megan couldn't see any easy way past the ranks of Fomoire soldiers, so she started trying to move towards her father to support his efforts and help bolster the fae. It put her in prime position to see it when the hideous shark-giant tried to step down on Inwar. General Inwar ducked aside, avoiding the footstep, and dug his blade into a gap in the armored boot, drawing a roar of pain from the Fomoire commander. The sword was left trapped in the armored boot, though, when Indech thrust his own sword down at Inwar, forcing the General to dive out of the way without freeing his blade. Before he could stand, the Fomoire King kicked at him with the other foot, hitting Inwar hard and sending him flying. The general hit the ground some distance away, unmoving.

Free of the fight, Indech gestured at Orlaith, and a blast of the greenish flame fired from his hand. Her golden shield held against the onslaught, but she was still forced to stagger back under the assault. She shouted to Peadar and his compatriots and moved to shield them as they dragged Inwar backwards.

A group of sprites flitted around them to help with the protection efforts. One of them—Gilroy, Megan guessed—shouted something at Peadar. The redcap nodded and called a command of his own, and more and more of the faeries began retreating.

Riocard and Jack apparently received the same message from Ashling and began their own fighting retreat, with more of the Unseelie joining them. Riocard gestured towards the giant wrestling with Xurde, launching shards of ice. The frozen daggers struck the giant in the eye, leaving it staggering away. Riocard called to the wounded dragon, who fought towards them, sweeping aside some of the infantry pursuing the fae.

Not used to seeing her father, nor Inwar, in retreat, Megan stood, frozen for a second. There was shouting and Fomoire advancing still. Justin started pulling her along before she caught sight of Ashling and the Count, flying low and coming right at them. As they reached hearing distance, she caught the pixie's shouts. "The dwarves have warding runes up! Run!"

With the thundering Fomoire cavalry right behind them, they ran.

Green fire rain dissipated as it struck the borders of the wards, leaving the fae safe, but every time a fireball exploded against the magical barrier, Megan was sure it was the one that would get through. At the edge of the warded encampment, giants and monstrous creatures patrolled, occasionally slamming a giant weapon against the air, or clawing at it, testing the last defense of the fae. The dwarves and sorcerers worked frantically to keep reinforcing it, but Megan could tell from the expressions of those working that it was a losing effort.

Megan definitely understood why the cauldron had been cleaned out as the healers took ladle after ladle of antidote to wounded, trying to halt the magical infection the Fomoire attacks left festering. The healing song was the most Megan could do to help as she watched various folk try to contain screams, whether in pain or panic.

Orlaith was standing near her general, trying to divide her eyes between the healers at work and the battlefield. Apparently, Megan realized, the Queen wanted to multitask more. Even over singing the healing song, Megan could hear “Tiernan. You're hurt.”

“
They're busy,” Tiernan said. He wouldn't look at Inwar, but he gestured at one of the healers helping one of the arrow-catcher types, now covered in the dark lines.

“
And a sidhe yields his turn to a spriggan?” Orlaith asked.

“
The spriggan was doing his damned job correctly.”

Orlaith seemed to sympathize with this nobly-obligated conclusion, but then Megan heard another familiar voice speak up over the song. A particularly nice voice, she had to admit.

“
Please excuse me,” said Justin, grabbing some things and walking over to Tiernan, “But I'm sure Your Highness can find a more practical martyrdom later.” He pressed a cup into Tiernan's hands. “Drink the medicine.”

Megan was still singing hoarsely as Justin set the canteen of water in her hand with a pointed “My Lady.” She stopped for a moment and took a long drink, still looking around at the suffering and the scrambling.

Two tengu knelt on either side of the body of the third, commending him to his ancestors and asking their own to prepare a way for them, should they die with honor. The ljosalfar remained prepared on the front lines, readying themselves, but she could hear them reciting all of the deeds of their fallen brethren over and over, asking that their deeds be heard. Peadar and Gilroy were saying something about worms and ravens—she forced herself to find something else to listen to before she caught many details. It wasn't hard. All around her, small rituals, remembrances, and preparations to die well were taking place, save among the brownies, who threw themselves into their work—and nothing but their work—even more diligently than usual.

Cassia was getting her injuries treated, sitting between Jude and the wounded dragon. She looked up at Xurde and grinned. “Not bad for a cartographer,” Cassia said, which received an amused icy snort in reply.

Megan then spotted her father.

He was glancing at Orlaith, and she back at him. Neither said a word, but it was clear from their expressions that there was some kind of communication in the exchanged glances. He was unusually serious, and she was looking at him with hints of "are you crazy?" in her bright eyes. But she seemed to soon conclude he wasn't, as her perfect posture became impossibly straighter, and her perfectly imperfect beautiful face became more stalwartly serene.

Megan didn't know what they were thinking, but she was pretty sure it had something to do with the fact that the next attack probably wouldn't qualify as a battle.

She was about to start singing the healing song some more when her father approached her.

Riocard took a deep breath. "I need to tell you something."

"Now?"

"Yes, right now. You're my daughter, and I love you, and it just wouldn't be my style to do this without a grand speech."

"Wait, Dad... do what?"

"Never mind that, Megan. Just listen. Live. All your days. Every second of every one of them. Forget a life without regrets. If you're afraid to take chances, because things might go wrong, you end up hiding away from your best moments. Get kissed, dance in the rain, graduate college, make music, make thunderstorms, make friends, make enemies—but in both cases, make them of the greatest sort, and earn them. And when people look back and ask you about me, tell them this: He lived. He lived every moment. Of every day."

Riocard hugged her, not in the awkward way they'd usually managed, but fiercely. His armor coiled away from him and wrapped itself around her.

"Dad?" she asked, not sure what it all meant, but getting the idea.

Then he smiled at her and turned. Orlaith had stepped over as well. The Unseelie King extended a hand to the Seelie Queen.

"May I have this one last dance, my dear?"

Orlaith looked out at the discordant field, then back to her unconscious general, before those sunset eyes returned to her royal colleague. "Riocard, I don't want to die." Orlaith hesitated for a moment, looking at the outstretched hand.

"Then let's not," Riocard answered, without withdrawing his hand. "Let's make sure we live forever in stories of the greatest sort in these worlds—and while they're telling stories, let's see what wonders lay in the next world—together."

Megan realized she'd never seen them touch before. The dance was always that fraction of an inch apart. This time, their hands met, and they danced.

Megan had seen one of Orlaith's magical constructions unravel once, the strands of light fraying and parting. She'd never expected to see it happen to a person. But what was happening to their hands with each surreal step of the dance went beyond that, just as the dance itself went beyond the graceful formalities she'd seen from them those times in the Ballroom. All the tension had been replaced with a passion that would probably make a human go mad on the spot. And as the threads of light, the energies, the essences, unwound from whatever was keeping them part of bodies, they re-entwined together.

As the two danced, at once becoming less and less real with each spin and turn, a spark caught just beyond the field. Those sparks grew into white and blue flames, which grew and started to spread out from where they'd caught. One of the Fomoire giants tried to stamp it out, and an intensely pained expression spread over his features. There was a tensing of muscles, and an obvious attempt to move the foot that had landed on the fire, but nothing happened despite all his efforts, leaving him frozen in place as white flames spread up the massive body. The rest of the Fomoire turned magic against it without effect—or just backed away.

The small row of ancient Fomoire acid scars on the side of Orlaith's face fell as smoldering embers, just impurities burned away. This left no pockmarks in her skin, because she soon didn't have skin anymore, only radiance. Riocard, in turn, seemed more perfect than ever, like he was moving, but otherwise carved of marble... marble slowly dissipating into mist, like breath on a cold day, before it floated up into the open air.

The small flames along the enemy lines turned into flickering blue and white walls. They were low at first, letting Megan watch the Fomoire forced into retreat from the flames. The walls spread, racing towards the horizons, before they began to follow the retreating Fomoire, growing larger and wider. There were numerous attempts to either crash through or over the barrier, or to drive remaining slaves or monsters through them, each ending in failure when those trying to penetrate the barrier froze in place, and then burned to cinders.

By the time Megan was able to pull her eyes away from the wall, which was moving faster, forcing the Fomoire into full retreat, her father was gone.

"What... what happened?" Megan asked, staring at the empty space where the dancing couple had been, which was now occupied by only a few fading motes of light. While she was staring, Lani ran up to her from the ranks of the builders. She held onto Megan for a moment.

“
They...they bought us some time,” Lani said.

Megan stared blankly. “But … but we'd
lost
so much time.” As she said it, she could hear it echoed nearby. The sneer had vanished entirely from Tiernan's voice. He sounded lost. She knew the feeling.

More and more of the fae gathered near them, looking out towards the retreating flames, driving the Fomoire back. They hadn't won, but they'd survived. The forces had fought together, out of necessity, certainly, but at least now they were talking. Everyone had seen the strength of the Fomoire, and no one was dismissing the threat or suggesting that they were an isolated problem any longer. That, at least, as much as she was struggling, Megan wanted to count as a win.

At least it was something, until she saw Ashling. The tattered-winged pixie was kneeling where Riocard had disappeared, face buried in her hands, while the Count stood by her. Other fae gathered nearby, but no one else intruded on her space.

Megan moved to kneel next to Ashling, reaching out a consoling hand. Ashling turned, looking at her, tears streaming down her face, the normally verbose pixie speaking in the most broken voice Megan had ever heard from her.

"He'll get lost. I'm supposed to go first."

The reports started coming in as Megan and Tiernan sat blankly together at the table with those of their friends the healers could spare. Ashling and the Count remained with Megan, the pixie nestled up to Megan, with the Count resting at her side. Other pixies and sprites were kept busy running messages between groups, guiding scouts and other groups in and out of the conference area and battlefield.

Many of these bore news, which Megan did her best to absorb. First came the notes about different factions pledging their support. Then information arrived that the wall of fire had halted a few miles from Gorias, wherever that was. Why the wall bore that limitation or how the Fomoire had found a way to stop it from driving them completely back into the lake—whichever was the cause—was uncertain. Whatever the case, the scouts also came back with more certain information on the Fomoire.

The single largest group, by far, had stayed near Gorias, reinforcing it and building the city into their own stronghold. The assault group had been the second largest. Some others had gone out to scout the land, or to check the states of the other cities. Those were loose, but as far as anyone could tell, all but a few dozen of the Fomoire had been trapped within the wall of fire as it drove them back and encircled the area around Gorias.

No one was exactly sure how long the wall would last, but the sorcerers claimed at least into Autumn, while the ljosalfar seers who arrived and held a conference of their own claimed that they saw hints of it falling sometime in the winter. While the estimates regarding the ice being so far off didn't inspire any confidence in Megan, at the very least, they had indeed been bought some time.