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Get out!
I clung to the mantra, trying to will the creature off me.
Get out! Get out! Get out of me!
But my will was nothing compared to the sluaghna and what magic I had was spent.
Montgomery's voice boomed through me. “How? How is such a little wizard so much trouble?”
The world began to fade. The pain too. There was a blanket of nothing hovering over me and all I had to do was let go and take it. I could free myself of all the pain and let the Constables take care of Montgomery. The world would go on without me.
No one really needed me. Nana Bess wasn’t really Nana Bess, after all. And Uncle Martin had never truly cared. They were criminals and murderers and I had been nothing to them.
And they had made sure I was nothing to anyone else, too.
What was the point of fighting?
“Nora!”
I couldn’t tell whose voice it was, but the fear in it seemed to jolt through me. I blinked once, my eyelids suddenly too heavy to keep open, and saw the snarling frustration in Montgomery’s aged face, and I smiled. Because he didn’t have Derrick. Maybe I was going to die, but he didn’t have Derrick or Derrick’s tattoos and he was never going to lure another warlock into his little web ever again.
I couldn’t speak, my jaw felt somehow fused shut, but I knew he could hear me. That needlepoint of vine was piercing my mind and he could hear me, so I let the thought form and carry out to him; It’s a bitch when the food fights back, isn’t it?
His face twisted and I felt his anger swell. He opened his mouth to speak but there was a whisper of movement behind him. A silver point of light fell from the top of his head in a vertical line down to his neck and it was only after a moment I realized what it was: a sword tip. Blood welled in a straight line from his forehead down past his chin, faint at first but growing as the injury became more pronounced. The sword tip twisted so that the blade edge angled off to the side and with one quick jerk, it sliced through Montgomery’s neck.
Gravity did the rest. One half of his face slid down until it toppled forward, leaving a clear view of bone and grey matter. Behind him stood Gretchen, whose sleepy gaze did not appear moved by the form in front of her. With quick movements, she cleaned the length of her blade and returned it to its scabbard.
The vine in my ear went slack, slithering out to plop wetly onto the ground. My feet touched the ground next, but my legs weren’t ready to hold me. I might have collapsed, but Derrick was there, steady hands on my elbows, drawing me away from Montgomery’s grisly form. Around us, the grove began to crackle, heavy vines beginning to petrify as Cade drew out their water.
My ear still hurt, and I pressed a hand to it, feeling the heat of fever and injury pulse into my palm, but most of my attention was riveted on the vines. Each coiling, heavy plant turned from brackish-green to the color of desert sand, complete with dry cracks snapping into view, until at last their desiccated husks crumbled away to dust. Only the boulders remained, standing vigil in their circle, but I could sense the power in them had dimmed.
“You are quite reckless with yourself, Miss Grayson,” Gretchen said into the silence.
Her tone was more curious than accusatory, and I stared at her for a moment. “I’m sorry?”
In answer, Gretchen shrugged. Then her gaze tracked to where Constable Cade was still kneeling. He was breathing heavily, his shirt damp and stuck to him in places, and there was sweat rolling down his cheek. The strain in him was evident and he made no protest when Gretchen moved to help him to his feet. She got under his arm and began leading him away from the grove.
“Mariana?” I asked and then flinched. “I mean, Delilah?”
Gretchen spoke over her shoulder. “The Lieutenant has handled the other sluaghna.”
Remembering the way Eucilla had leapt into the ravine, somersaulting her way through trees and brush with an elegance that could only come from a dracken, I relaxed.
It was over. We had won.
I looked at Derrick and tried to smile, but half my face still ached, and I doubted it was very convincing. And then I realized that he might not even know who I was, and my gut did a somersault of its own. His expression was one of concern, and I could sense a whirl of confusion in him, which I suppose was to be expected.
Gretchen and Cade were distancing from us, heading toward the path at a steady rate, and I imagined they must be far enough away, so I risked speaking. “Derrick?”
His mouth twitched at the corners, and he lifted a hand to brush hair from my face. He leaned closer and whispered, “Yes, Nora?”
All the tension left me at once and my eyes pricked and burned.
He remembered.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Dawn was lighting the sky in faint orange and purple by the time we made it back to the manor. Eucilla and Sam were in the process of debriefing all the wedding guests in the ballroom, which I had yet to encounter, so its size and opulence came as a surprise. It boasted two crystal chandeliers, a wide dance floor polished to a high sheen, and white Grecian pillars lining the walls. The ceiling had a motif in yellow and auburn that depicted many wolves running through autumnal forest.
