Her sword was by the fire. She stooped to pick it up, found it almost impossible to stand again. The last Chett was dancing in and out of the vampire's range. It was Sunatay. God, she's good, Jenrosa thought, hope rising in her. If only she could get around behind the vampire.
She stopped herself. She was a magiker, not a warrior. She turned back to the fire. It was close enough. It was bright enough. She dropped to her knees in relief and started chanting.
Lynan coughed himself awake. He turned over and vomited blood. Fighting. He got himself to his haunches and looked up. Jenrosa! She was on her knees on the other side of the fire, chanting. Then who was fighting? He looked around, saw Silona hopping like a deranged bird, pecking, swiping at a small, lithe figure who wielded a sabre the way Kumul used to wield a long sword.
Sunatay, he remembered. How did she get here? How did Jenrosa get here?
Then he saw the corpses of the two dead Chetts. His side was losing.
He pushed back with his hands, cried in sudden pain as his right wrist gave way. He used his left hand to sit back. He remembered now. Silona had broken his wrist, snapped the bones in two.
But no, the bones were knitted already.
He managed to raise himself to a crouch. He spat more blood out of his mouth as he looked around for his sword. He could not see it anywhere. There was a sword near Jenrosa. Hers, he assumed. That would have to do. He tried to stand up, but as he did Jenrosa's chant seemed to swell in volume and the sound of it was like a terrible weight on his shoulders. He could not move.
'Jenrosa!' he cried. 'You're stopping me from moving!'
She did not answer, but she met his gaze and held it. He saw tears streaming down her cheeks.
Silona yowled. He looked around and saw that she was hardly moving. Sunatay was moving in closer, aiming her blows more carefully.
The rhythm of Jenrosa's chant picked up. Something stabbed him in the heart. The breath whooshed out of him; he tried to suck more in but his lungs would not work. Again his heart spasmed in pain. He was back to his knees and he could see Silona was struggling, too, and Sunatay's blows were becoming heavier, deeper.
'Why?' he asked Jenrosa, turning back to her.
But still she did not reply. He tried to find an answer in her eyes, but all he saw there was pity. He collapsed, falling sideways onto the ground. The fire blazed in front of him and he saw in its flames two twisting figures which he recognised as himself and Silona. The flames moved to the rhythm of Jenrosa's chant. She was using her magik to kill both of them.
An inhuman roar behind him. The sound of Sunatay's blade sinking deep into the vampire's flesh, like an axe in wood, and sticking. Another inhuman roar. The sound of her wings sweeping through the air. Sunatay screaming.
The fire seemed to dim, the figures in it to blur. Almost immediately he felt his lungs start to pump air back in and the pain in his chest disappeared. He pulled himself up. Jenrosa was mumbling, trying to recapture the chant.
But too late.
There was a beat of wings and Silona landed right behind the magiker, her face twisted in terrible fury, any semblance of beauty lost in her hatred and rage.
That was me, Lynan remembered. Back in Daavis, that was me.
'Jenrosa, move!' he cried, but his voice was nothing more than a croak. 'Behind you!'
But too late.
Silona raised one clawed hand and brought it down against Jenrosa's back. Lynan watched, paralysed, as Jenrosa jerked forward, her mouth gaping, her eyes open in astonishment. The vampire drew back, the hand covered in gore, and Jenrosa pitched forward onto her face.
Lynan screamed. He lifted himself to his feet but fell straightaway. He could hear Silona panting, trying to get her own strength back. He moved forward on all fours to reach Jenrosa, saw the bloody mess that was her back. He started crying, could not stop it, tried to say her name. His right hand burned. He looked down and saw it was resting on the hilt of his sword, its blade deep into the fire.
And he remembered. In the middle of his insanity Silona had told him that all the others like her were slain by iron and fire.
He gripped the hilt, ignoring the pain, and used the sword to help him stand. Silona was already on her feet, her great wings stretching out behind her.
'So we start again,' she said to him. She noticed the sword. 'You learn your lessons very hard.' She smiled cruelly at him, took a step forward, over the body of Jenrosa.
Lynan lunged, driving the blade deep, deep into her body, twisting the hilt as he did so.
Silona leaped into the air, screaming, taking the sword with her. Black blood sprayed into the fire sending clouds of putrid steam into the night air. She tried to beat her wings but they would not work and she plummeted back to earth, landing on her back. She squirmed and grasped the blade with both hands. Smoke came from her fingers. She let go, wailing. Lynan went to her, took the hilt and twisted it again. Silona kicked away, crying, begging, her face that of a beautiful woman again.
'Lynan, my love, no, help me, Lynan, my love…'
He pulled out the sword and drove it into her neck. She jerked up on her shoulders, slumped. Her mouth opened one more time and said a word Lynan did not understand. The air around them funnelled into the sky. Lynan felt his clothes and hair whip around him, and the vampire's wings flapped uselessly.
Then all was still.
Lynan went to Jenrosa, gently turned her over. She was gasping for breath. Blood speckled her lips.
'I was wrong,' she wheezed.
'Don't talk,' he said.
She grabbed his arms. Her eyes were bulging, staring at his face. 'I was wrong. I am the end point. Not you. I thought I had to kill you. I thought that was my destiny.'
Lynan was crying again. 'Please, Jenrosa, don't talk. Stay with me. Don't go.'
'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I'm so sorry.'
Lynan put her down gently, took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. 'Don't leave me, Jenrosa. I love you.'
Her body arched in pain.
'What can I do?' he asked her, his voice pleading. 'Can I help you do magik?'
'Nothing,' she said. 'I understand now. There is no Jenrosa after tonight. That is why it was all dark. I thought the blood was your cruelty, your madness, but it was my future. The whole time it was my blood.'
'Blood,' Lynan repeated. 'God.' He scrabbled over to the vampire's corpse and dipped his hand in the wound in her chest. He brought it out, his fingers dripping with her black gore. He returned to Jenrosa. 'Here,' he said, lifting her head.
'No!' she cried and frantically slapped his hand away. 'No!'
'It will save you!' Lynan cried. 'You will be like me!'
She twisted pathetically away from him. When he tried to hold her she grabbed his bloody hand and forced it down with all her strength and said into his face: 'I would rather be dead than be like you!'
Lynan reeled back.
'Please,' she whimpered. 'Please.'
He nodded, and she let him come to her again. He lifted her into his arms and cradled her, rocking back and forth.
'I love you,' he told her again.
'I know,' she said, then closed her eyes and died.
CHAPTER 28
'This must be the most peaceful corner of the whole continent,' Galen said, not entirely happy. Charion smiled to herself. A warm sun was climbing in a clear blue sky; a gentle breeze wafting up from the valley below brought with it the smell of freshly baked bread; birds chirruped in trees. It was perfect. But Galen did not want perfect. Neither do I, Charion admitted to herself. We both want battle. But just now it's almost possible to believe there is no war.