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The Goddess moved, eyes shining like emeralds.
Somewhere a gear turned, and as when Vanya led us into the tunnels, the wall slid back, revealing stairs descending into the earth.
“What—”
Something flew past my ear, sparks flying as it hit the stone wall.
Helia cried out before falling.
I dropped to catch her—probably the only thing that saved me from a similar fate. Pulling her to the side, I turned to face the crypt entrance.
Von Lemerch, Lord von Mekeln, and five priestesses blocked the way to the world above. Helia, deadweight in my arms, moaned when I carefully placed her on the floor to free my hands.
Von Lemerch held her cane as if she had swung it and was about to do so again.
Blue flames burned in her eyes, consuming the whites. Von Mekeln’s smile stretched unnaturally wide.
The temperature dropped, like during a mountain winter night.
Fear froze me.
I was back on the bridge. The same magic that I felt when the Spirits descended and I thought Vanya would die, brushed against my insides. The shadows stretched until the room dimmed, only the sigils still shining.
“Finally,” von Lemerch said and rolled her neck. A sharp crack bounced around the too-quiet crypt. “Twenty-six years since the last royal wedding and then their magic was not enough to power the doorway. Before that, the crowns provided too much magic for me to break through. This time everything was managed. You, my king, have done excellently.”
I backed away while drawing my sword. “Who are you?” I said, while knowing the answer. Vanya had spoken the impossible truth.
Ealhswip laughed.
“Bring them. There’s no knowing what sigils they’ve laid into the Gate over the centuries. We might need more royal blood.”
She strode straight for the tunnel at my back. Never before had I attacked an old woman, but she was no longer human.
I could not let her pass.
My sword, made for show but kept sharp, sank into her shoulder, cutting through sinew until it struck bone, almost separating her right arm from the body. She stumbled, grabbed the blade with both hands, and dislodged it. Blood spurted across the room as the flesh reknit before my eyes. Not even an expert healer would have been able to do the same. It was impossible.
She lifted her cane and only lifelong training made me roll to the side in time to avoid it. I lifted my blade again as von Mekeln moved around the sarcophagus to get to me. He smiled while the priestesses seemed anxious to continue.
One bent over Helia as von Mekeln rushed me, drawing his own blade. I danced to the side and slashed into his arm. It should have disabled it, but he wielded his sword as smoothly as if I had missed.
I ducked his lazy attacks while again landing my own—cloth and flesh split. Blood stained my blade. And von Mekeln only smiled.
Each blow I blocked nearly knocked my blade from my hands. I had sparred with Zakhar daily as a youth, then Yahontov over the summer, both significantly larger men than me, and still held my own. In the mountains, I dreamt of revenge as I trained alone and against hardened guards. Von Mekeln, who was decades their senior and portly, should have been an easy opponent. But nothing was as it should have been.
He flicked his blade, opening a cut along my side before I could twist away. I was slowing and there was not enough room to move.
Von Mekeln smiled as he strode forward. “I always wanted to make the Herebovs bleed. How fitting it would be here among the bones of your ancestors.”
He lunged and I jumped on top of the central stone basin, pushing myself higher by wrapping wind around me. It was easier than ever before. My curse had not failed because of my lack of magic, but because Dasha lived—May those who hurt mine, be hurt in kind, ineffectual on those thought responsible at the time. But the man who killed Alexei had died shortly after. Everyone else of mine was safe.
Wind danced around me, lending speed to my movements, strength to my blocks and hits. I leapt and felt like flying. But again and again, von Mekeln came, never tiring.
Landing behind him, I saw my opening, but what would a blade to the heart matter? I could not win this.
I backed up, giving myself time to look around.
The clang of our swords had filled my ears, but now I noticed two priestesses lifting Helia while another argued with the councilwoman that they had to continue while the power of the dead was at its highest.
