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  I hear roaring on top of the cliff, a scream and the rapid burst of gunfire.

  The Hag shrieks and explodes up into the night sky. A whip cracks, followed by another banshee-like wail.

  “Shut … the fuck … up,” Christian grits.

  I’ve got both arms clamped around his neck, hanging on for dear life, getting repeatedly bashed against the side of the cliff with each scraping lunge of his wings. My shirt is being ripped to shreds and the back of my head and spine are taking a brutal beating.

  “Keep her away from them until they reach the top,” I hear Ryodan bark.

  “I’m trying to,” Jada fires back. “She moves erratically. It’s hard to compute. ”

  “Stop fucking trying to compute and feel,” he snarls. “She’s not a machine. She’s a goddamn pissed-off, bloodthirsty woman. ”

  I hear more cracks from the whip. The sound is bounced back and intensified by the surrounding mountains. I decide they must be using it to mess with the Hag’s echolocation.

  “Behind the bitch, not to the side,” Ryodan orders.

  “You’re almost there, lad,” Dageus shouts down at us. “Grab the bloody cable. ” He’s hanging over the cliff’s edge swinging a length of thin black cord at us.

  But Christian’s desperately trying to sustain our altitude and in no position to reach for it. I grope wildly for the cable, praying I have enough strength to pull us up because each time I get slammed into the cliff my vision goes a little dark and I can feel Christian growing weaker. Not even my Unseelie flesh rush is enough to stand this constant battering.

  Looks like we may end up trying to hang glide after all.

  “She’s coming back,” Barrons shouts. “Get the fuck away from the cliff’s edge, Highlander. ”

  I hear the whip cracking furiously again, and Barrons roars, a horrible, guttural sound, and I cringe to the bottom of my soul because I know without needing to see it that Barrons just got lanced. Doesn’t matter that I know he’ll be back. It’s one less person to protect the Keltar and Jada, and I despise the sound of that man dying. I have no doubt he stepped in the way to protect someone.

  “Fuck. ” Dageus snarls down at us. “Bloody grab the bloody cable. ”

  Then Drustan is beside Dageus and I hear Jada and Ryodan taunting the Hag, more gunfire and the sound of the whip cracking as they try to buy us time to get to solid ground.

  I kick upward and Christian grunts with agony when my boot catches him in the stomach, but I close my fingers around the cord.

  Moving quickly, Drustan and Dageus begin to pull us up.

  We’re nearly there when Jada and Ryodan start shouting again, then suddenly something explodes out of the front of Dageus’s chest and he goes rigid, yanks upright and makes a soft grunt of shock and pain.

  It takes my brain a second to process what just happened.

  The Hag just lanced Dageus from behind.

  Christian howls with such animalistic, inhuman fury that it chills my blood. It occurs to me how ironic it is that four of us on this mountain possess immense power but can’t use it. Barrons and Ryodan won’t turn into the beast in front of strangers. My inner Book has gone dead silent. Christian is too weak to use his Unseelie magic.

  His wings begin that awful scrabbling again but it only slams me hard into the side of the mountain. I squeeze with all my might, struggling to merely maintain my grip on the cable with one hand and Christian with the other, but Dageus is no longer holding our weight and we begin to slip slowly, inexorably, downward.

  “Pull them the fuck up,” Dageus growls at Drustan, blood gushing from his mouth. Then he’s airborne, impaled on the Hag’s leg. She shoots out over the canyon as Drustan, joined by Ryodan and Jada, yank us to the top.

  Christian collapses, rolls, and stares into the night sky over the gorge. Painted crimson and silver by eerie moonlight, the Hag hangs above the gorge, Dageus clutched in her gruesome, bloody embrace.

  “Fucking bitch!” Christian pushes to his feet, but Drustan tackles him and prevents him from leaping off the edge to attempt to fly, something we both know he can’t do right now.

  “You will not make my brother’s sacrifice for naught, lad!”

  The Hag shoots across the chasm, smashes Dageus into the far cliff once, twice, three times before violently shaking her leg to dislodge the unmoving Highlander.

  Dageus plunges silently down, a dark speck, vanishing into the shadows as we all watch in horrified silence.

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  The Hag whirls midair and rockets back across the chasm, straight for us, head down, unfinished gut-gown streaming out behind her.

  Then Jada is shoving Drustan away from Christian. “Get down and stay down,” she hisses at him. She drags Christian to his feet and steps in front of him and commands, “Mac. Spear. Now. ”

  There’s no time to argue. Barrons is down and Dageus just gave his life to save us. I want vengeance. Nothing else matters. I move to her side, place my hand against hers and make sure she feels the cold metal of the blade between us. “I’ll let go at the last minute so she doesn’t see it. Don’t you dare fucking miss or I’ll kill you myself. ”

  She doesn’t dignify my threat with a response.

  Christian tries to push Jada out of the way, snarling that no one else is dying for him on this cliff. Jada shoves back, pushing him behind us.

  The Hag dives headfirst, slicing through the night, mouth twisted with rage, black holes where her eyes should be narrowed in fury.

  Jada freeze-frames us and suddenly we’re standing twenty feet away. My spear is no longer in my hand. While I was discombobulated from being freeze-framed, which she knows makes me feel sick, she took it from my grasp.

  “What are you doing?” I explode.

  “Not letting you die, Mac. ” She shoves me so hard and unexpectedly that I go sprawling face-first to the ground.

  Christian howls and I don’t need to look to know he just got lanced. When I peel myself from the rocks, wipe snow from my face, and look back over my shoulder, I see the Hag has impaled him and is preparing to fold her knitting-needle legs together around him and soar off into the sky.

  Ryodan and Jada exchange a glance and she tosses him her whip.

  He cracks it in the air behind the Hag, impeding her flight, and goads, “Come and get me, bitch. I don’t die either. ” He moves closer, snapping the whip so fast I can’t even see it, keeping her penned into a small space of air. Unlike Jada, he seems to have no problem anticipating her airborne lunges.

  The Hag levels her free leg at his head. He dances around, ducking and dodging like a boxer on meth, cracking the whip repeatedly. “But you know that. You killed me once before. ” He’s become a blur, and I wonder if he’s actually going to be able to get close enough to kill her however it is the Nine do.

  Then Jada materializes between the Hag and Ryodan with the abruptness of a Fae sifting in and I realize that was never his plan.

  With that one shared glance, he and Jada made another one.

  Ryodan was the distraction.

  Jada closes her hands around the leg upon which Christian is impaled and with the grace of a circus acrobat swings herself up, spear tucked into the waistband of her camo pants.

  The Hag rears back, violently shaking her leg, trying to dislodge her, but Jada doesn’t let go. When she reaches the writhing, bloody mess of a gown, she uses the guts as ropes to vault herself up, grabs the Hag by the hair, yanks back her head and slits her throat from ear to ear.

  Blood sprays everywhere and the Hag’s head lolls back. Jada shoves the spear deep into the bone and gristle of her corset, expression fierce, savage.

  The three of them crash to the ground in a heap.

  The Crimson Hag is dead.

  37

  “And the shadow of the day will embrace the world in grey”

  MAC

  Ours is a somber group t
hat descends the cliff, battered, weary, and bleak.

  I now understand the meaning of the phrase “hollow victory. ”

  In the past, each time we did battle with the enemy, although there were losses, none cut so deeply, so close to the heart.

  I realize belatedly that for some time now I’ve counted the Keltar as one of us: indomitable soldiers, battling tirelessly against evil, fighting the good fight, always surviving to wage war another day. I counted on it.

  One of the good guys died tonight.

  A man with family.

  A legend of a Highlander.

  There’s no hope Dageus survived the brutal gutting, the crushing blows against the cliff, and the subsequent twelve-hundred-foot fall.

  Like the Hag, Dageus MacKeltar is dead.

  Drustan doesn’t speak a word, supports Christian on one side, with Jada on the other, and they half carry, half drag the now unconscious prince down the mountainside.

  When we reach the bottom and load him carefully into the Hummer, Drustan murmurs, “Och, Christ, how am I to tell Chloe? They fought so hard to remain together. Now she’s lost him for good. ” He whispers something over Christian in Gaelic then turns to leave.

  Ryodan steps into his path, blocking it. “Where do you think you’re going, Keltar. ”

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  “Unlike you, I’ll no’ be leaving without retrieving what remains of my brother’s body for burial. ”

  He’s referring to Ryodan hastening us from the mountaintop without pausing to collect Barrons, which I know he did so Drustan and Jada wouldn’t see him vanish but no doubt appeared callous to the others.

  Drustan’s gaze is bleak, haunted. “Too many times he took the burden upon himself to save us. I’ll see him buried properly, in the old ways, on Keltar ground, in Scotia. If the Draghar still inhabit his body, certain rituals must be performed. If not, aye, well, bloody hell if not, they’re free again. ”

  “I’ve no intention of returning to Dublin without Barrons,” Ryodan says. “I will collect your brother’s body as well. Christian needs you. Your clan needs you now. ”

  I search his face and am surprised to see something patient and understanding in those cool silver eyes.

  “I know the sorrow of losing a brother,” Ryodan presses. “I’ll bring him back. Go. ”

  I wonder about Ryodan and Barrons. Did they once have other brothers? Did they lose them before they became what they are, or afterward? How? I want to know about these two, understand them, hear their tales.

  I doubt anyone ever does.

  Drustan glances between Christian and the shadowy entrance to the gorge, visibly torn, unwilling to do anything that might risk that for which his brother gave his life, equally unwilling to leave his brother’s body behind.

  “Come, Drustan,” I say gently. “The living need you now. If Ryodan says he’ll bring his body back, he will. ”

  Ryodan says to me, “It may take time to find … all of him. Take Christian to Chester’s. Sequester him where we protected the Seelie Queen. He’ll be safe there while he heals. ”

  As Ryodan turns to go, Jada says, “I’ll come with you. ”

  “You will return with the others and protect them. ”

  “I’m not she who once—”

  He cuts her off fast and hard. “I know who the fuck you are,” he clips the words out coldly. “You’re the only one that doesn’t. Dani could have anticipated the Hag’s movements. You could not. Jada. ”

  Ryodan vanishes into the night without another word.

  I wince. That was harsh. Whether or not it was true.

  The three of us join Christian in the Hummer and begin the long silent ride home.

  38

  “How I wish, how I wish you were here”

  MAC

  After seeing Christian and Drustan safely inside Chester’s, I’m surprised when Jada doesn’t immediately stalk off. With my spear, which I’m stunned to realize I’d forgotten about. But the three-day ride was depressing, Christian largely unconscious, Drustan deeply grieving, and neither Jada nor I in any mood to talk. I suspect my invisibility makes me feel safer, plus I’m still pumped by the final stages of Unseelie-flesh-high. Regardless, once she’d tucked the spear away somewhere, I’d not thought about it again.

  Now I’m doubly surprised she didn’t rush off. Why linger and give me time to demand she return it? Jada does nothing without purpose.

  We stand in taut silence outside Chester’s, eyeing the long line of people waiting to get in with distaste, and I’m reminded of the old Dani, how we would have sauntered off into the night to slay Unseelie and reduce the number of predators in our city, dozen by dozen, hoping to one day save these mindless lemmings from the apparently irresistible lure of flinging themselves off the proverbial cliff inside the club.

  Neither of us has showered in nearly a week. I suspect if I could see myself, I’d look a fright. A week out, Jada still looks spit-and-polish perfect. I sigh, wondering if I’m going to have to fight to get my spear back. Truth is, I’m not entirely sure I can take it from her. Nor do I want to have to.

  I opt for the direct approach. “Give me my spear, Jada. ”

  She glances in my general direction. “You can’t use it. ”

  “It’s mine. That’s enough of a reason. ”

  “Inefficient. Someone should be able to use it. I’m the obvious choice. ”

  I’d like to deny the validity of her words but I can’t. Given the risks, I’m unwilling to wield it. I can’t walk these streets and slay, and the sheer number of newly arrived Fae inside Chester’s tonight was staggering.

  Without the sword—I wonder again where it is, that she can’t get to it—Jada can’t kill them. Seems a hell of a waste of lethal womanpower in this city.

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  Still, if the Sinsar Dubh decides to suddenly make me visible, I’m going to want it, need it.

  “What happened after I chased you into the hall?”

  “Like the one you called Dani, the past is irrelevant. I’m here now. That’s all that signifies. ”

  “What are your plans for the abbey?”

  “None of your concern. ”

  “Once, we worked together. ”

  “Once, I was someone else. ”

  “What about the Book I carry?” I want to know if I have to watch my back every second of the day. I want to know how Jada thinks, if there are weaknesses in her mental defenses where I’m concerned.

  “I’ll contend with Cruce. Barrons and Ryodan are enough to contend with you. ”

  “You’re granting me free passage. ” I choose my words carefully, using the same words I spoke the night I made a pact with the Gray Woman to save her life, the night I discovered what she’d done with Alina, probing to see if I can elicit an emotional response.

  “For now,” she says tonelessly.

  Still, she stands in the street looking at me as if she’s waiting for something. I can’t fathom what.

  “Have you seen Dancer since you’ve been back?” I take another shot at provoking emotion.

  “I don’t know Dancer. ”

  “Yes you do. Dani was crazy about him. ”

  “You could have ended your second sentence after the initial three words. ”

  Okay, now she’s starting to piss me off, insulting the tenacious, brilliant teen that battled tirelessly for our city. “What do you want, Jada?” I say flatly. “Why are you still standing here?”

  She wrinkles her nose as if her next words leave a foul taste on her tongue. “Do you believe Dani could have anticipated the Hag’s movements better than I could?”

  I catch my breath. There it is. Why she remained. She despises asking me, yet can’t resist. Apparently Ryodan’s criticism has been burning like sullen fire in her gut ever since he leveled it at her. Who better to ask to confirm or deny it than me? I knew Dani better than most. That she even
asks it shocks me. Jada has opened herself to an opinion. My opinion.

  I don’t like this question. I don’t want Dani harboring more guilt or self-recrimination. I’ve not forgotten, and will never be able to forget, her cry that she deserved to die. I wonder what happened to her when she was young, what Ryodan knows about her, what “kryptonite” she carries in her head that he believes could destroy her. I wonder if he’s wrong, and Dani actually knows it and was relieved to turn the reins over to a remote, unfeeling part of herself. I wonder what happened to her in the Silvers, what she endured that made her transform fully into this icy other.

  I study Jada in silence, realizing her question might be a small crack in the dominant personality’s facade. Then again, it might merely be a desire to reconfigure herself into the most efficient weapon possible. I don’t know much about dissociative disorder, but between trying to figure out how to stop the black holes that threaten our world, hunt the Unseelie King to get rid of this Book, and find Barrons because I need him like a bandage to my wounds, I intend to learn.

  I wonder how Jada subdued Dani so completely. Similar to the way I subdue the Book? Does Dani whisper daily, struggling to break free, or is she imprisoned somewhere deep inside, in a small dark cell, her exuberant, passionate voice echoing in a tight vacuum, not heard even by Jada? Worse, has she given up?

  “Are you still there?” Jada says.

  “I don’t blame you for killing my sister, Dani,” I say softly. “I forgive you. ” My heart feels abruptly, enormously lighter. Saying those words released an awful compressed knot behind my breastbone. I clear a throat suddenly thick with unshed grief, for the loss of Dani, for Dageus, for the way things turned out. I wish I’d been able to say these things before I chased her through the portal. “I love you,” I tell Jada, hoping somehow my Dani hears me. “I always will. ”

  “Irrelevant and maudlin. I asked you a question. Answer it. ”

  “Yes. She could have anticipated the Hag’s movements better,” I say flatly. “Dani has a fire you lack. Her gut instincts are flawless, she is brilliant. ”

  Jada’s eyes narrow and her nostrils flare. “I’m flawless. I’m brilliant. ”

  “Give me my spear. ”

  She cocks her head as if holding an internal debate, then slips the cuff of Cruce from her arm and holds it in the general direction of my voice. “Logic dictates a different course. ”

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  Oh no, it doesn’t. Logic dictates she keeps both. Not give away something she isn’t required to relinquish. Interesting.