lily harper 04.5 - the bladesmith Page 4

  “But, as an immortal, you couldn’t be killed, correct?” Persephone demanded. “You still carried the spirit of Donnchadh, which made you immortal?”

  “Am Ah tae tell this story? Or do ye prefer tae?” I asked as I speared her with a cross expression.

  She frowned and her lips tightened. “Go on.”

  “Ye were correct, Ah couldnae be killed because o’ Donnchadh. Boot when the Romans attempted tae murder meh, they displaced meh.”

  “Displaced you?” she repeated. “What does that mean?”

  “If ye would allow meh tae finish, mayhap ye would find oot!” I railed at her. As I lost my temper, I sensed the rumblings of Donnchadh stirring within me, growing fiercer as he became more desperate to wield his control over me. This conversation needed to end quickly because I could no longer wait for Persephone to bleed me properly. I feared I was on an expeditious path of losing any sense of containment or control over Donnchadh.

  “Very well,” she grumbled, holding her chin up high. “My apologies.”

  “Ah found mahself in a place Ah didnae recognize,” I started. I breathed in deeply as the rush of unhappy memories suddenly flooded my mind. “Ah later learned that the new place I inhabited was none oother than the Oonderground City. ’Course, ’twas nae called the Oonderground in those days; an’ neither did it appear sooch as it does today. Boot its purpose was the same: tae poonish sinners for all eternity. Despite how unfamiliar the place was tae meh, Ah was immediately announced its king.”

  “With no training, or any kind of orientation whatsoever?” she asked, appearing shocked.

  “Aye,” I said as I nodded. “Nae trainin’. Ah was supplied with ah demon guide, Gerode, who introduced meh tae my role; boot he didnae prepare meh mooch. All I knew was that Ah was now Lord to the Kingdom o’ the Damned.”

  “But you were not technically dead, yourself?”

  “Nae, Ah wasnae. Nor was Ah technically alive either. Had it nae been for Donnchadh, Ah would have died. At least, that is mah belief. Ah dinnae pretend tae know how, or why, Ah became the King of the Oonderground. All I can tell ye is how Ah foond mahself in that wretched position.”

  She nodded. “I find that very fascinating. I cannot help wishing you trusted me more, enough to tell me this … long before now.”

  “Ah am ah secretive man,” I said, and she laughed snidely.

  “That is putting it mildly.” She was quiet for a few seconds as she studied me before telling me to continue.

  “As part o’ mah poonishment,” I started before taking a deep breath. This was the part of my story I liked the least. “Those souls o’ mah kin whom Ah either killed meself, or allowed tae be killed, were nae allowed tae pass through the pearly gates o’ the Kingdom oop high; boot neither were they forced tae enter the gates o’ the Oonderground. Nae. Those poor, lost souls were doomed tae spendin’ eternity in the middle lands.”

  “The middle lands?” she repeated dubiously.

  “Aye, the Dark Wood,” I finished. I had to take another deep breath in order to finish the story. “An’ more specifically, their bodies were interred beneath ah large hill, at the base oove ah tree. The verra same tree outlined oan mah back.” I stared at the seams of my kilt as old, familiar feelings of self-hatred, remorse and guilt flooded over me. They were the same feelings I experienced whenever I remembered my history, whenever the cruel past came back to haunt me. “Ah bleed mahself nae only tae release Donnchadh’s contaminants, boot also tae release the poison o’ the truth. Ah bleed mahself in offerin’ tae the souls o’ mah tribesmen. Lives that Ah took out o’ greed an’ avarice.”

  FIVE

  Persephone studied me for another moment or two, and her eyes narrowed as if she were trying to decipher whether or not I was being honest in my explanation. Then she inhaled deeply and her expression softened as she exhaled.

  “I am certain you are well aware that in order for me to reach your back, I would need to loosen your chains,” she announced. She stood up and stared down at me in an obvious ill humor, which I attributed to that same fact.

  “Aye, Ah am aware,” I answered. I eyed the pulley system in the corner of my cell which dictated whether I should be chained closer or farther from the wall, depending upon my captor’s desire.

  “There is a reason you are lashed against the wall,” she began to explain. “The less you are allowed to move about, the easier it is to control you.”

  “Ye dinnae need tae explain the nature o’ mah incarceration tae meh. Ah am quite familiar with the system,” I started. The pain of the two wounds she had inflicted on my chest continued to erode me from the inside out, even though my blood now ran red. That truth brought little relief though. The essence of Donnchadh’s poison still contaminated me.

  “My point is that if I loosen the pulley to give you more freedom, what assurance have I that you would not attempt to attack me and free yourself?”

  I shook my head. “Ah willnae attempt tae attack ye; nor will Ah free mahself.”

  She scoffed at my reply, although I was not surprised. “Please forgive me if your word alone fails to convince me.”

  “Then send oot for yer circus monkey!” I fired back at her, my previous good humor now completely absent. “Ah dinnae care whit ye dae! Jist git oan with it, woman!”

  “By my circus monkey, shall I assume you are referring to Saxon?” she asked with a barely concealed smile. Clearly, she thought of him in the same manner.

  “Aye, yer circus monkey.”

  She studied me for another few moments before nodding and starting for the cell door. She locked it behind her and disappeared through the large, iron door to the prison. She was gone less than five minutes, but when she returned, she was accompanied not only by Saxon, but the angel, who certainly looked the worse for wear.

  His habitually jocular persona was completely missing. In its place, I saw a creature far too solemn to even represent the angel. His face was pale, and judging by the lacerations that were visible on his arms and legs, I guessed he had been flogged. Doomed an immortal, he could not die, yet he could still feel pain. It now appeared that was exactly what must have been happening.

  “What would you like me to do with him, my queen?” Saxon asked. He unceremoniously led the angel by a chain, which was wrapped around the angel’s throat.

  “Return him to his cell,” Persephone answered. She made no attempt to look at either of them. Instead, fastening her eyes on mine, she unlocked my cell and showed herself inside again. “And then I require your assistance in here,” she told Saxon, who was busily interring the angel inside his quarters again.

  “Why dae ye feel obliged tae torture him?” I inquired, nodding my head in the direction of the angel’s cell.

  “How is that any business of yours?” she responded snidely.

  “Are ye hopin’ tae break him? Tae git information froom him?”

  “No,” she answered quickly. “What information could I possibly hope to get from him? He’s a fool.”

  I shrugged, because she had a point. “Then why bother wit’ ’im?”

  “To make him shut up!” she railed back at me angrily, as if she objected to having her actions questioned, “and because his insolence infuriates me!”

  “Aye, it infuriates meh too, boot ye dinnae see meh beatin’ him,” I finished with a shrug.

  “Then you are far more patient than I am,” Persephone answered with no amount of apology in her tone.

  “Ah dinnae believe his insolence is the sole reason ye despise him so,” I continued.

  “Oh, really?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest and regarding me with an irritated expression. “Then what do you believe the reason is?” she asked. Saxon appeared at my cell door, standing just behind her. It did not escape my notice that he still refused to so much as look at me. The man was a born coward; that much made obvious by his inability to look me directly in the eyes. He was afraid of me. Even now. Despite my being chained to the wall with m
y hands and feet bound, he was still afraid of me.

  “Ah believe ye hate him because he is Lily’s friend,” I answered simply. “An’ ye want naethin’ more than tae weed oot everyone an’ everythin’ that has, or had, anythin’ tae do with Lily.”

  She looked at me sharply for a few seconds before a smile appeared on her lips. “You always were a very astute man,” she said with a quick nod.

  I felt it wiser not to say anything more, but something burned from deep within me that would not allow me to stay quiet. “Then what o’ meh?” I demanded.

  “What of you?” she repeated as she frowned in obvious confusion.

  “If ye seek tae destroy any an’ all reminders o’ Lily, whit aboot meh? Ah loove her too, sae will ye try tae break meh, jist as yer tryin’ tae do wit’ the angel?”

  After hearing the word “love” leave my tongue, Persephone’s expression dropped. It was immediately replaced with what I can only describe as ire. Her eyes narrowed and seethed with an anger I had not seen within them before. “You are serving me in your own way,” she announced between clenched teeth as she glared at me, a rush of color shadowing her cheeks. “And once I have what I need from you, then, and only then, will I decide what your fate should be.”

  I nodded without saying anything more. I had already said too much. I needed Persephone. She had to bleed me in order for me to regain my strength. I also needed her to ingest my blood so I could help strengthen Lily. Taunting the woman could only make matters worse.

  “Saxon,” Persephone said to get his attention as she handed him the blade. “I will release the pulley; don’t take your eyes off him.”

  “Of course, my queen,” he answered robotically. He slightly dropped his chin in a sign of deference that made me want to strike him.

  Contrary to what they both seemed to believe, I did not want to fight them. I was still so emaciated and weak from malnourishment, as well as Donnchadh’s increasing strength, that any attempt to oppose them would surely result in my not faring very well.

  I watched Saxon approach me. He knelt down beside me and pushed the blade of the knife directly above my carotid artery. Our eyes met for the first time since his visit, and I smiled. He did not. My attention shifted to Persephone as she pulled down on the large wheel in the corner of my cell, releasing the chains that bound me so tightly against the wall.

  “Ye can remove the blade,” I barked at Saxon. “Ah dinnae have the strength tae even think o’ fightin’ either o’ ye.”

  I heard the sound of Persephone’s heels as she approached us. “Remove it,” she commanded Saxon who obeyed with a nod before he stood up. “You may leave us now,” she finished.

  “But, my Queen, the prisoner is still very dangerous. I don’t think it is wise to—” he started.

  “Enough!” she interrupted him. “I believe him. He is weak.” Then she grabbed my chin and forced my head upright until I was staring right into her eyes. “Besides, he already admitted his love for the silly girl who previously owned my body. That means he would not have any intention of harming me because she and I are one and the same.” A huge smile appeared on her lips and the expression of victory clouded her eyes. I held myself in check, nearly choking on the sudden urge to smack the smile right off her face. However, I merely returned it politely.

  “May Ah remind ye that Donnchadh’s strength grows with every passin’ moment?” I inquired sarcastically. My arms newly freed, I placed my palms on the cold stone ground and pushed myself forward, but only as far as the chains and the soreness of my muscles would allow me. “Nae time like the present.”

  Without saying anything, she walked around me until she was facing my back. Then she knelt down and traced the top of the tree tattoo with the pointed edge of the blade. “Is there a particular method in which I should do this?” she asked.

  “Donnchadh’s contaminants reside in the lines o’ the tree,” I started.

  “Then I should cut only the tattoo?” she interrupted.

  “Nae,” I said, shaking my head. “’Twill be easier tae coot down mah back in long strokes, an’ then, coot across. Jist make sure all o’ the tree is included.”

  “Very well,” she said with a sigh. She poised the cold tip of the blade at the top middle of my back. Without another word, she pushed down on the blade. The sharp pain was immediate, searing my flesh as the blade sunk into it. When she forced it downward, I had to lurch forward, straining against the chains that still bound my wrists. I gnashed my teeth and clenched my eyes shut tightly, bracing myself against the waves of agony that rode through me.

  “Dinnae forgit … tae squeeze the … impurities oot!” I managed between labored breaths.

  Suddenly, Donnchadh arose up from within me, his fury so palpable, I could feel it pumping through my veins. He was rebelling, trying to enforce his supremacy over my body before I drove him out. He was surging now, his anger emboldening him and making him stronger, harder than ever to control. I had to fight him; I had to resist him. I clenched my eyes shut tightly and directed all my inner strength against him. I expected the battle with Donnchadh to be all consuming, and now I sincerely doubted whether I had enough power to resist him. I was very aware that I could not suppress him alone.

  “Squeeze!” I yelled. I needed Persephone’s assistance. There was no way I could beat Donnchadh back down without her support.

  Placing her hands on either side of the wound she had just inflicted, she pushed her fingers together. I immediately felt a bubble of Donnchadh’s poison bursting from inside me, its gelatinous trail dripping down my back. I was momentarily aware of Persephone’s words of disgust, but I was unable to focus on anything except the burning pain.

  Her hands descended another six inches or so before she squeezed them together again. Donnchadh’s filth immediately surged forward, boiling up from deep inside me. As her ministrations progressed, my own power returned, fortifying me little by little.

  Donnchadh continued to rail against me, his essence at times so threatening, I was merely a hair away from unreining myself. If that were to happen, though, it would signify the end. With Donnchadh at the helm of my body, I could not save Lily. Donnchadh would no doubt rebel against Persephone, and he was strong enough to break the meager chains that held him. After burying himself inside Persephone, he would insist upon his own rule. Lily would be completely lost. He would annihilate everything I had worked so hard for.

  That thought forced me onward, and I continued to defy him with renewed vigor.

  “The wound is clear now,” Persephone announced, her voice breathy.

  “Go oan tae the next,” I barked my response.

  She did not reply, but I felt the blade’s tip digging into my shoulder on my left side. Violently, she ripped me open all the way to my right. The pain was so excruciating, my fingernails sliced into my palms.

  I clung to the hope that it was enough to keep Donnchadh at bay.

  SIX

  “How many more must I make?” Persephone demanded, amid bouts of panting. Apparently slicing up my back and squeezing out Donnchadh’s contaminants was exhausting. I had lost count as to how many times she had cut me, but I imagined she must have been close to number nine or ten.

  “Ye moost continue oontil ye make ah coot that doesnae leak Donnchadh’s pestilence,” I responded between gritted teeth.

  For my part, I was fatigued. Between fighting Donnchadh to ensure he was not able to overtake my body and my own weariness and malnutrition, I was beyond weak. The only good news was that Donnchadh’s power was ever decreasing and now his presence felt more like a speck of insubordination rather than a raging inferno.

  I felt Persephone dig the blade into the bottom of the tree tattoo, where the roots met the middle of my lower waist, and I marveled over the sudden numbness that overtook me. I was not certain if the pain was decreasing as Donnchadh’s impurities fled my body or if I was simply growing accustomed to it. Or perhaps I was so weary that my body was not able to feel
anything any longer.

  “The laceration I just made produced nothing other than your blood,” Persephone announced, her voice a monotone.

  “Then Ah believe we have our answer as tae whether Ah am cleansed,” I responded.

  “Then I should drink from you now?” she asked as she sidled down the length of my body until we were facing one another again. As I looked into her eyes, it took me a second or two to remind myself that this was not Lily looking back at me.

  “Aye,” I answered with a brief nod as I dropped my attention from her black eyes, suddenly missing what had once been their brilliant emerald. I was then overcome with a sense of foreboding. It seemed to wash over me from my feet up until it overtook my entire being. This was my last chance to save Lily. It was my last chance to ensure that Lily’s essence was not overridden by Persephone. If this failed, I failed, and Lily would be forever lost to me and to herself. I was in no way prepared for such an outcome. Furthermore, I would never be able to forgive myself for not having been the protector to Lily that I should have been.

  “And how should I do that?” Persephone asked, grabbing my attention away from my morose thoughts.

  I held my right arm up as far as the chains would allow me and then rotated it so that my wrist was facing her. “Drink from mah wrist,” I said slowly.

  She did not respond other than to nod briefly before she gripped my wrist with her left hand and held the blade above my veins with her right.

  “Coot deep,” I added, wanting to ensure that she imbibed as much of my blood as she could. I imagined Lily needed all the help she could get, and a mouthful or two of my blood would not be enough. “Ye moost drink plenty,” I continued. “As if ye were parched an’ Ah was ah fountain.”

  “I understand,” she said but did not appear to be very pleased with my instructions. She said nothing more but pressed down on the blade until it ruptured my skin. Then she pulled the knife toward her before dropping it back on the ground. The pain was present but was nothing compared to the throbbing agony I had experienced when she released Donnchadh’s impurities from me. Almost immediately a river of red surged up from the wound and began dripping down my hand, splashing on the cold stone ground.