Kane ran for the entrance to the ramp and disappeared through the cloaked doorway. I followed. Thank God Edern had switched the current. All we had to do was step into the flow.
On the trip down, I kept picturing the falcon’s fall, how in a second it went from serene beauty to a crumpled ball of bloody feathers dropping awkwardly to the ground. It felt like my fault, even without Butterfly telling me so. Maybe it was. Maybe my bond to the Destroyer meant that whatever I admired, whatever I cared about, would be destroyed.
At the ramp’s bottom, Kane felt along the rock wall until he found the cloaked doorway, and together we dragged Edern’s boat through it.
Why the big hurry? I wondered. The falcon was dead. I walled off the part of me that cared about such things. It was too dangerous.
“I know where it fell,” Kane said. “Near where we left the horses.” He stood in the back of the boat and started poling us in that direction.
I looked around the swamp, not letting myself think about the white falcon. But I couldn’t ignore the consequences of its death. I’d failed to fulfill my bargain with the Night Hag; she’d never accept the bird’s corpse. I couldn’t leave the Darklands. Like Edern, I’d be one of the many who didn’t return. Maybe Arawn would let me take Edern’s place here as a Border Keeper.
Kane grunted, pushing the boat forward. I could see the hummock where we’d left the horses. Only one stood there now. The other must have broken away in fear when the Destroyer passed by.
“It was right around here,” Kane said, stopping the boat. He used the pole to probe the swamp.
Something floated beside the boat—a white feather. I plucked it from the water. It was spattered with drops and smears of rainbow colors—magical blood. More blood pooled on the water’s surface, shimmering like an oil slick.
I showed the feather to Kane. “It’s dead, Kane. The falcon is dead. Whoever shot it took the carcass away. He’s probably roasting it right now.”
Kane took the feather. He scanned our surroundings as though looking for smoke from a cooking fire.
“I was joking about roasting it.”
“There’s nothing to joke about, Vicky. This is a disaster. Without the falcon—” He sighed and handed the feather back to me. “Maybe the Night Hag will accept this as a token of your effort.”
“I wouldn’t count on that.” I tucked the feather inside my tunic, anyway.
“Neither would I. But it’s worth a try. And it’s not our only bargaining chip.”
“What are you talking about?”
He shook his head and pushed off with the pole. He steered the boat to the hummock and our remaining horse. “I’m sure I tied both sets of reins the same way,” he said, undoing the knots.
“It doesn’t matter.” It didn’t. The horse had probably gone home. Or else the Destroyer had blasted it into ashes that had blown away. There was nothing I could do about it. I was tired of struggling to fix things when I couldn’t change them.
Kane climbed up onto the horse; I mounted behind him. I put my arms around him and leaned my cheek against his muscled back. Ah. For a moment I let myself enjoy his strength, his solidity. Home, I realized. His body felt like home.
But the white falcon was dead. Home? For me, the Darklands was home now. I loosened my grip on Kane and sat back. And then we were in the air, flying toward Arawn’s palace.
THIS TIME, WE DIDN’T MEET ARAWN IN HIS SITTING ROOM. We were escorted to a small, bare room off the main corridor. There was a table against one wall, but no chairs. The fireplace was cold and swept clean.
We didn’t have to wait long. The door opened and Arawn strode in. “I’m very busy,” he said, holding out his hand. His features were like granite. “Give me the remains of my sword.”
“You know about that?” I handed him the parcel. He laid it on the table and opened it. Then he swept the whole thing onto the floor. I winced as pieces of Darkblaze skittered across the stone tiles.
“I know everything that happened. My sentries reported to me before you arrived here.”
“You sent men after us?” My voice rose in anger. “Instead of spying, they could have helped us.”
He whirled around, his face a picture of fury. “And ended up like Edern ap Nudd, one of my oldest and most trusted Keepers?”
Kane stepped between us. “If your men watched us,” he said, using his reasonable negotiator’s voice, “they know Vicky achieved her purpose. The Destroyer is gone from the Darklands.”
“Yes.” Arawn took a step back. “That is why I upheld my side of the bargain. It’s already done. I summoned the Night Hag and gave her my hunting horn on your behalf. I also gave her Rhudda’s magic arrow.” An unpleasant smile touched his lips. “She was not pleased.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“The arrow, as you recall, was broken. But she never said it had to be whole. She had no choice but to accept it. As for my hunting horn, when I learned of your deal, I acquired a new one. She did not specify which horn she wanted, so she could not refuse the one I offered. It was mine, it was a hunting horn, and it fulfilled the deal.” He shook his head. “Mallt-y-Nos was very sloppy in her bargaining with you. Obviously, she thought you’d fail.”
I touched the white feather inside my tunic. I had failed. Not that it mattered now.
“She had her amusement,” Arawn continued. “She drove you into the Darklands and then left you here to become my problem.” His face darkened into another scowl. “And look at the trouble you’ve caused me. Rhudda is an ass, but he’s also my vassal. You humiliated him, and in doing so you undermined my authority. He kept order in a section of my realm that is now in disarray.” He held up a hand and counted my sins on his fingers. “You killed my Magic Keeper and defiled the spring he guarded. Edern is dead because he tried to help you. You shattered the sword that has protected this realm for more than a thousand years.” He kicked the hilt like it was a piece of trash. It spun across the room. “Inside your very body, you brought a demon here.”
“Just a small one.” Butterfly hadn’t hurt anything. Well, except when it took a chunk out of Rhudda’s nose—and the giant deserved that. The Eidolon had spent most of our trip through the Darklands lodged deep in my gut.
“That’s not what I meant. Bringing in a guilt-demon is a serious offense in itself, but you did something worse. You came here marked by the Destroyer. My wizards tell me that it was your presence in the cauldron of transformation that resurrected Difethwr. If you and your damn demon mark hadn’t gone into the cauldron, a far weaker demon would have emerged. In a very real sense, I blame you for the destruction of my lands.”
Arawn had run out of counting fingers. He made a fist and pounded the table.
“Everything you say is true.” The enormity of all those screw-ups made me want to look at the floor. But I met Arawn’s gaze and held it. “But it’s also true that I never acted with malice. I killed the Magic Keeper in self-defense. I even tried to help him after he fell. I defended you from demons in Resurrection Square. And I did send Pryce and the Destroyer—and even that guilt-demon—back to Uffern.” I took a deep breath. “So in light of my service, I have one more favor to ask.”
“A favor?” Arawn’s expression suggested “favor” was the dirtiest word he’d ever heard. “And what is this favor?”
“I want to take Edern’s place at the border.”
“Vicky, no!” Kane moved forward like he could block the words I’d spoken.
I stepped around him. “I’m an experienced demon fighter. I can—”
“A Border Keeper? When your demon mark will constantly call the Destroyer back to this realm? No!” Arawn pounded the table again, making it shake. “I told you—I want you gone!” He pointed at me. “You are banished from my realm. If you are still in the Darklands by this time tomorrow, you will be executed. Your body—its physical and magical manifestations alike—will be burned and the ashes thrown into Uffern, so I can rest assured that no trace of that Hellion remains here.”
Banished. My head was spinning with Arawn’s accusations and pronouncements, but that one word came through. Banished. And on penalty of death. What the hell was I going to do now?
“Mallt-y-Nos won’t let me leave,” I said. “The white falcon she wanted, the one that nested in Hellsmoor…it’s dead.” I pulled the white feather from my tunic.
Arawn stared at it. “More trouble you’ve caused me.”
“If you’d order the Night Hag to let her leave—” Kane began.
“She can leave! She can leap off a cliff into Uffern for all I care.” He waved the suggestion away and narrowed his eyes at me. “I told you, I will not interfere in your bargain. I have nothing to do with deals made beyond my borders. You have one day. Then your life is forfeit.”
“Vicky.” Kane put his arm around me and pulled me close against him. “I came here to bring you home. That’s what I intend to do. Let’s go. I’ll talk to the Night Hag.”
“You?” Arawn snorted. “Do you truly believe you have anything left to bargain with? Mallt-y-Nos owns you.”
Dread made me go cold. “Kane, what did you offer her?”
“You don’t know? Oh, that’s rich. He pledged—” A far-off note sounded. Arawn looked sharply toward the door. So did Kane. A low, nasty laugh came from Arawn’s throat. “Do you hear that, hound? Your mistress calls you.”
Oh, no. The dread turned my heart to ice. The Night Hag—what names did the werewolves have for her? Huntress. Mistress of Hounds.
That’s what Arawn called him—hound.
The note sounded again. “It’s not the horn she wanted, but it’s clear enough, is it not? Your time here is finished—go!”