The Unfinished Song (Book 5): Wing (40 page)

“Dance together?” she asked.

He didn’t understand the quaver in her voice until
he remembered that the last partner she had danced with had been
Kavio. Umbral could never escape it. It would never go away.

But she stepped closer to him and let him take her
in his arms and begin the dance.

Vessia masked her pain in indifference while
Xerpen’s minions beat Vio. He didn’t even try to resist, not when
they hit him and not when they tired of their games and finally
bound his hands behind his back. She had never seen him look so
defeated. She knew it was her fault. She had seen the light die in
his eyes when he’d discovered she had once been Xerpen’s lover.

That was over ages before I met you!
she
wanted to shout at him. Would the distinction matter to him? Or
would jealousy still destroy any love he’d ever felt for her?

Xerpen sidled up to her. “I’m glad you finally saw
the human’s true colors, Vessia.”

He kissed her, taking obvious delight in the fact
that Vio watched. It was like letting a scorpion crawl over her
lips, but she endured the kiss. Despite Xerpen’s seeming
friendliness, he had confiscated both her weapons and her wings,
still in the shape of an opal. For safekeeping, he’d explained with
a slithery smile.

“You recovered the cocoons, I gather?” she asked
coolly.

“Yes.”

“How? The ash buried everything.”

Xerpen laughed. “I was War Chief of a human tribe
for many years, Vessia. I could order my slaves to serve me as I
wished, even if the orders made no sense to them. Humans are so
gullible.”

He sneered in the direction of the Orange Canyon
humans, who were still ignorant of his true identity as an Aelfae.
Vio had guessed, finally, but said nothing to his captors. Perhaps
he thought they knew. More likely, Vessia thought, Vio had just
given up.

“We all have our blind spots,” she said grimly. “So
where are they now?”

“Not far. Where’s my flute?”

“Not far. I thought humans were so gullible. What do
you need it for now?”

His tongue darted between his lips. “Crowd control.
They become unruly in groups. There’s always the danger of a smart
one bucking the herd. Like Vio.”

Or me?
She raised an eyebrow. “Let’s wake the
others, and then we’ll recover the flute and discuss our
plans.”

Xerpen snapped his fingers. The Orange Canyon
Riders, who had waited at a respectful distance, led their large
birds over and everyone mounted. Vio was taken too, as a
mariah
—a sacrifice. That was strange. Vessia could not
imagine what spell Xerpen had in mind to revive their friends, or
why blood sacrifice was required.

The Raptors flew them to a mountain Vessia
recognized. Like most places of power in Faearth, it had once
belonged to Aelfae, and now belonged to humans. Orange Canyon
tribehold. The humans had built themselves a frail village on the
split head of the mountain, over the deep, narrow canyon on the
ruins of the Aelfae settlement. All that remained of the Aelfae’s
original holding was the Bridge of One Thread and the Loom.

However, the Raptors did not land on the summit.
They swooped halfway down the mountain to a narrow ledge in the
canyon, where only Xerpen, Vessia and Vio, bound tightly,
dismounted. The Raptors and the other humans flew away.

Xerpen kicked Vio before him, driving the prisoner
into the narrow cave. Vessia followed.

The small cave entrance opened into a huge limestone
cavern deeper within the mountain. In the glittering white heart of
the mountain’s bones, Xerpen had prepared a dancing ring of
polished rock. The six cocoons dripped like frozen tears from
stalactites which roughly ringed the circle. To other stalactites,
in between each of those, five living human prisoners had been
bound. Two men, two women, even a girl child. Vessia felt sick.

Xerpen lashed Vio to the missing place. Six cocoons,
six sacrifices. She saw how this would go and she didn’t like
it.

“What about the Windwheel?” she asked.

“I haven’t found it yet,” he said. “But it doesn’t
matter. I’ve found a better way. It has the beauty of eliminating
the humans at the same time it revives our people.”

“That was never my plan, Xerpen,” said Vessia.

“Your plan?
Your
plan?” For a moment his mask
of charm slipped and the ugliness underneath showed through.
“
Your
plan didn’t work, did it, Vessia? There’s only
my
plan now!”

He shuddered and visibly calmed himself. He restored
his broken smile. “Of course, if you could find the Windwheel, that
would be different. We could use it. But it was lost or—let’s be
honest—destroyed.”

“By the traitor among us,” Vessia said evenly. “We
never found out who.”

“I often wondered if it was you,” said Xerpen.

“Why would I sabotage my own spell? Hide my own
Windwheel?”

“True, that part never quite made sense. Did you
wonder if it was me?”

“No,” she answered honestly. “If I know one thing
about you Xerpen, it is that you would never side with the humans.
They are imperfect. The one thing you could never abide was other
people’s imperfection.”

He beamed at her, oblivious to her thick irony.
“True.”

“Let’s kill Vio first.” She stood in front of him.
Her husband. So imperfect. So human. He was bruised but conscious,
aware of everything they said. No anger, no defiance showed on his
face. Only weariness. She looked Vio right in the eye when she
added, “Let me do it.”

Still, not a flicker from Vio.

Xerpen looked at her sharply however. Her eagerness
aroused his suspicions. She had killed many humans in battle, but
Xerpen knew she did not like killing anyone, human or animal, who
was tied down.

“The others are strangers to me,” she offered. “I
know they must die, but I don’t want to be the one to do it. Vio,
however…” She grit her teeth. The betrayal still cut too close.
“Vio stole my wings.” She rubbed her cheek, mockingly. “Broke my
jaw too, I think. Not his fault if it didn’t take.”

Xerpen nodded, convinced. “He’s yours.”

He tossed her a stone knife.

She leaned close to Vio. “Fight, damn you.”

She cut the ropes around him, and in the same
motion, whirled and threw her dagger at Xerpen’s heart.

Xerpen ducked the knife. Dozens of bird-headed Vyfae
flew into the circle of light from the shadows where they had been
hidden.

“Did you really think I was fool enough to trust
you, Vessia?” demanded Xerpen. “You aren’t fit to live in the new
world I am creating! I already have your cage prepared. That’s
where I’ll keep you until I can unweave all the bad habits you’ve
acquired since last we were lovers!

“Here—take back your wings!”

Xerpen threw something at her—her opal stone, her
wings, but knotted in a cocoon of darkness—a hex foul and venomous,
a hex he had obviously spent long months preparing. Trust? No. He
had prepared to betray her from the start.

She tried to evade but the curse hit her with the
opal. Agony ripped into her. She could not even scream, only gargle
and foam at the mouth. Xerpen’s magic was in the venom, but so was
something even more horrific. He had laced his curse with the
oldest Curse of all.

Time seemed to slow. She fell but never hit the
ground; Vio caught her.

“Vessia! Vessia!” he cried. He pressed his lips to
hers, as if he could draw the poison out of her.

The Vyfae closed in on them, bristling with spears.
Vessia was too weak to even see them clearly. Everything spun
around her in an agonizing blur. Vio was little better off, but he
set her down and stood in front of her, and fought off with his
bear hands the first half dozen Vyfae who tried to peck her eyes or
entrails out.

He had a dozen bloody marks already and she knew he
would not last long. Then Xerpen would own her, and keep her in a
cage, while he destroyed all the humans in Faearth. She no longer
doubted he could do it. Somehow he had mastered Death’s own magic
and combined it with his own. Who could stand against him?

Black shadows danced in the flicking firelight.
Vessia thought she must have started hallucinating, but Vio shouted
gleefully, “Deathsworn!”

One of the black, masked Deathsworn warriors tossed
Vio a spear. He joined the fight. Vessia could do no more than drag
herself out of the way while the fighting raged all around her. A
few of the Deathsworn untied the other human captives and hurried
them away, she knew not where, but hopefully to safety.

“You’ve taken the humans’ side one to many times,
Vessia!” Xerpen shrieked at her. “It is time for you to die with
them! I curse you, Vessia! I curse you to bear the spawn of the
human you love so well, a son who will kill you with his own
hand!”

Vio roared and rushed him, but Xerpen turned tail,
fleeing like the coward he was, the Vyfae with him.

“Fa! He escaped again!” Vio cussed and punched a
rock. “I will kill him for you, Vessia! Or is he immortal, like
you?”

“He is no longer immortal,” she said. Her voice was
hoarse. “But…I think…no longer am I.”

“Surely you don’t believe his curse?”

As if on cue, the Deathsworn warriors formed a
square two men deep around them. Vio stood in front of Vessia,
facing them. “Leave us alone. We have no fight with you. We’re on
the same side.”

A raven-haired woman, masked by a soot-painted
skull, armored in tight black leather, stepped into the square.

“Are we?” she asked coldly.

Vessia felt recognition like a painful sting.
“
You
.”

“Do you know this woman?” asked Vio.

“Of course,” Vessia said. She smiled archly. “Lady
Death.”

Lady Death inclined her head.

“For many years I have known the Bone Whistler’s
true identity. However, his power is great enough to rival my own.
Even now he returns to the holding above, which he has hexed
against me. I cannot touch him as long as he remains there.”

“I can make sure he stays holed up in Orange
Canyon,” said Vio. “I can dedicate a whole army to the task. But I
doubt I could take the tribehold either. My people are too
exhausted from years of war to start another.”

“For now it is an impasse,” said Death. “But I fear
greatly what our friend will try next.”

“He cursed Vessia,” said Vio. “Can you reverse his
spell?”

“Xerpen used magic he had no right to use. But,
Vessia, you
do
bear the growing seed of Vio’s son in your
belly. If I undo Xerpen’s Curse, you will lose the child, and never
bear another.”

“Will she regain her immortality?” asked Vio.

“Yes,” said Death.

“Do it,” he said. “Give her back her immortal
life.”

“It’s not your choice, Vio!” snapped Vessia. “I want
the child.”

“No! Vessia,
think!
”

“I want the child
.”

“It is done,” said Death. She melted away into the
shadows, and the Deathsworn warriors slipped away after. Vessia
heard the brush of their black boots on the stone, then nothing.
She and Vio were alone in the limestone cavern, with the untouched
cocoons still dripping from the stalagmites.

After a time, Vessia felt well enough to stand; at
length, she could walk around and stretch her arms. Vio watched her
anxiously the whole time.

Vessia touched a cocoon. Whose corpse did it hold?
Hest? Gwidan? Kia? The spongy webbing felt dry to touch, not
sticky.

“What are they?” asked Vio, not able to conceal his
revulsion.

“Crypts,” said Vessia. “Fallen friends. We had no
time to bury them. We were all being buried alive under a boiling
mountain, you see. But they were the last of our kind. It seemed
important to honor them at death, not just leave them to melt in
the ash.”

“Vessia.” He bowed his head. “I’m sorry. For so many
things. What do you want to do with them?”

“Leave them to their rest here,” Vessia said. “It’s
a better tomb than they knew before.”

“I know it doesn’t matter,” said Vio, “because I’ve
already lost you. But I love you, Vessia. I will always love
you.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I know.”

“Of course it matters. It’s the
only
thing
that matters.”

She kissed him. Thoroughly.

Even after that, he still looked disbelieving.

“I’m never going to be a good wife,” Vessia said
briskly. “I’m never going to be a good mother. I’m going to
embarrass you in front of your human friends. I’m going to be a
liability in your political games. I’m never going to like corn.
And I’m going to fly.”

He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Let’s fly
home.”

The brightness of the Vision drained away, leaving
the dim fire lit cavern. Dindi and Umbral exchanged glances.

“Did you see the Vision?” she asked.

“Everything.”

They looked at the cocoons with new eyes.

“Aelfae crypts. Creepy.” Dindi hugged her arms
around her shoulders.

“At least they aren’t going to hatch a hundred giant
spider babies,” said Umbral.

“Ugh.”

“The Bone Whistler thought he could bring them back
to life, and somehow that would be the first step to bringing his
whole people back to life.” Umbral frowned. “I still don’t see
how.”

“The Bone Whistler killed thousands of people while
he was War Chief,” Dindi said. “None of that blood brought back a
single Aelfae. The Bone Whistler may be powerful enough to scare
Death herself, but he’s also crazier than a drunk troll.”

“Something
brought back the Aelfae in the
bog. It’s not a coincidence, Dindi. And if he tried it once, he’ll
try it again. We have to stop him.”

“We? We’re a ‘we’ now?”

“Aren’t we?”

“I guess we are.”