The salted sceptre, p.23
The Salted Sceptre, page 23
Athair’s expression grew stonier. Yeah, he knew. His golden hands curled into tight fists. I saw with a brief jolt of shock that he’d dug his fingernails into his palms with such force that blood was dribbling through his fingers and splashing onto the ground.
‘Say it,’ he bit out.
I would if he insisted. ‘I’m not going to join you,’ I said aloud. ‘I am not your daughter, not in any sense that actually matters. I will not use blood magic. I will not become a fiend. I have no desire to be a soulless, friendless creature that cares for naught but herself. I don’t need more power or more wealth or a longer life. It’s quality, not quantity, that counts. You are on your own. Forever.’
Athair’s tone was devoid of emotion as he whispered, ‘Then you have signed your own death warrant. Yours and everyone else’s that you’ve ever cared for.’ He raised his hand and there was a spark of flame above our heads. It flickered and started to grow. Within seconds it was big enough to swallow up several bogles.
He laughed coldly then snapped his fingers and sent the gigantic fireball flying at high speed towards the front of the Royal Elvish Institute. I held my breath – but the vast ball of flame didn’t reach the grand building. Two metres before it hit the stone façade, it jerked, sizzled and vanished.
I gazed at the spot where the fireball had been. ‘Aw.’ I pursed my lips. ‘Where did it go?’
Athair’s eyes narrowed. He flicked his fingers and repeated the process. The second fireball was larger and hotter than his first one, but when he threw it at the building exactly the same thing happened.
I smacked my lips in satisfaction. ‘It so happens that I’m friends with a couple of very powerful sorcerers,’ I said. Boonder was skilled at modern runes and Gordon was an expert in ancient ones; when their skills were combined, their ability to draw an effective ward was extraordinary.
‘No ward will stand against the might of my magic for long,’ Athair snarled.
I sniffed. ‘I seem to recall that my mother managed to create one that kept you out of the Assigney mansion for weeks.’
‘That was blood magic.’
True.
‘And at the time I didn’t want to hurt your mother,’ Athair said. ‘Or you. These circumstances are very different. I’m going to raze that fucking elvish building to the ground.’
He raised his hands in the air then thrust them downwards as he conjured up a wave of rumbling earth magic. The manicured grass across Charlotte Square ruptured as the tremor blasted towards the Royal Elvish Institute. Even though the magic was directed away from me, I was still thrown off my feet. I landed on my back with a thump, just in time to see the forceful earthquake shudder to a halt.
As I heaved myself back upright, a voice called out from one of the upper windows. ‘Mud McAlpine has established root magic beneath this ground! No earth magic shall penetrate it!’
I grinned and waved at the witch. ‘You know, Mud is an incredibly powerful witch,’ I said to Athair. ‘He banished the fiend called Zashtum all on his own.’
If this was news to Athair, he didn’t show it. ‘Zashtum was weak. No witch can banish me. As I’ve already proved.’
That part was probably true. Unfortunately. ‘There’s more than one way to skin a cat.’
Athair smiled nastily in response. ‘Indeed.’ He sprang upwards, landing on the backside of Prince Albert’s bronze horse. For a centuries-old prick, he certainly was nimble.
From his high vantage point, he moved his arms one way and his hands another. It took me a moment to realise what he was doing: he was conducting his own orchestra. There were no violinists or cellists, and certainly no woodwind section, but there were dozens upon dozens of cumbubbling vampires.
He drew upon one group, which comprised around fifty vamps, and they broke away from the others to advance upon the institute. Athair twirled his wrists and flicked his fingers. The vampires immediately screeched a loud response and threw themselves towards the ward. They bounced off it then picked themselves up and threw their bodies at it again. I realised they would repeat that movement over and over again with no regard for their soft, rotting flesh.
‘Worth a try,’ Athair muttered, then he called down to me. ‘I might not be able to get into that building just yet, daughter, but it won’t hold out against for me long. Besides, this is Edinburgh.’ He grinned toothily. ‘You can’t ward every building in the city. It’s a shame there are no longer any orphanages in existence – still, I’m sure my fanged darlings can find some tasty families to snack on while your friends cower inside the elves’ shithouse. Watch this, darling Daisy. Watch the power you could have enjoyed for yourself.’
He twirled on the back of the horse, flinging out his arms and directing those blasted bloodsuckers away from Charlotte Square towards other streets, other doors and other homes.
I licked my lips as fear scorched my veins – but then there were several loud screeches as vehicles skidded through the streets towards the square.
Unable to see what was happening, I took a few steps backwards, just in time to spot an armoured car approach one group of marauding vampires. It spun to the side, halted and a window lowered enough for one of the vehicle’s occupants to point a weapon. The muzzle of a gun appeared but it didn’t fire bullets; instead it jetted out a spray of liquid.
I watched the arc of fine droplets mist through the air. They looked innocuous; to anyone who didn’t know better, they could simply have been water. But I knew better, and when the liquid hit the stampeding vampires they knew better, too.
Their screams echoed through the night sky as the enhanced vamp spray ate through their flesh in seconds. The first wave fell to their knees and pitched forward; the second wave collapsed, writhing, onto their companions. Each droplet ate through hair, skin, flesh and bone; as soon as it hit their rotting brains, it was game over. It was incredibly satisfying to watch.
Athair howled in rage, though not because he cared about his army of undead warriors. It was simply that he hated not being in full control. He directed his anger at the armoured car, sparking out magical lightning in its direction. When that didn’t work, he blasted it with air magic.
The vehicle could withstand a barrage of bullets but it couldn’t repel a powerful fiend’s magic. I grimaced as it overturned, hoping the occupants would be alright.
At least half the vampires had already been decimated and the remainder were spreading through other streets.
‘Arbuthnot!’ Athair yelled. ‘Get to that fucking car! Kill whoever is inside!’
There was no answer: the bogle had disappeared. Arbuthnot had seen his chance and taken it – he must have run off at the first opportunity. Good for him. I’d be very, very surprised if we saw him again.
If Athair realised that Arbuthnot had vanished, he didn’t react. Instead, still balanced on top of the bronze horse, he spun towards another of the departing group of vampires. I heard a muttered hiss and I followed his gaze.
We’d lost one bogle but we’d gained another. At the far end of the street on the southern side, I spotted a large female. A battle to the death wasn’t where I’d expected to see a museum director but at least Agatha Smiggleswith wasn’t alone; she was flanked to her left by Duchess. A troll and a bogle fighting together was an incongruous sight, but they looked as if they were enjoying themselves. They wore matching grins of ear-splitting proportions.
They didn’t remain alone for long, either. Uniformed police officers poured in from the side streets to join the fray. Those vamps were toast.
‘For fuck’s sake,’ Athair yelled. ‘For fuck’s sake!’
He ought to wait for the finale. I glanced to my right, towards the Firth of Forth estuary. The water wasn’t visible because there were too many grand buildings and staggered rooftops to see it from where I was standing, but I could see the dark sky above it.
And I could see the large shape wheeling in the air and flapping towards us.
Aine the dragon reached us in seconds. She might be far from home and possess far more motherly concerns than anything that elves might conjure up, but she could certainly fly fast when she put her mind to it.
Athair tilted his head upwards. As soon as he caught sight of her, he flicked a lightning bolt towards her that I knew was designed to kill. She dodged it easily and turned her attention towards the remainder of the vampires.
‘You’re losing, Father!’ I shouted. ‘Why don’t you come down off your high horse and give in to the inevitable?’
The words had barely left my mouth when a bank of fire left Aine’s massive jaws. In seconds she scorched a hundred vampires, charring their bodies beyond all recognition. They certainly wouldn’t be rising again.
‘You think killing a few bloodsuckers means you’ve won?’ Athair called back. ‘This fight is only just beginning. You’ve not seen anything yet.’
Aine turned and attacked another group of sprinting vamps. She fixed her slitted dragon gaze on the final few; soon there would be none left. In less than an hour, we’d managed to destroy Edinburgh’s entire undead population. If nothing else went right this night, I could at least be proud of that.
Gladys buzzed, her impatience growing. I couldn’t blame her. ‘Soon,’ I whispered. I tightened my hand around her hilt, wishing my palms weren’t so sweaty. ‘Soon.’
Athair jumped down from the horse and landed a metre in front of me. ‘How about now?’
I raised my chin. ‘I’m game if you are.’
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
Iwasted no time. Drawing on all the training I’d received, I danced forward on delicate toes and then I slashed at Athair with brute force. Gladys’s blade caught his shoulder, slicing through his white shirt and his golden skin until bright-red blood oozed forth.
He hissed and responded with magic, tossing out a casual burst of air that would have flattened me if I hadn’t immediately countered it with my matching power. We pushed at each other, air against air. I knew that Athair’s magic was stronger and so did he, but I wasn’t the underdog I’d always been. It would take more than power to win this fight. Play smarter, Daisy, I reminded myself. Not harder.
As I gritted my teeth and threw out screeds of powerful air magic, a few sweat beads formed on my forehead despite the cool night air. I didn’t test my limits and empty myself of all I had, however; I gauged my energy levels and watched Athair’s expression. When I was certain he was least expecting it, I dropped to the ground and stopped my attack.
Athair’s magic faltered momentarily – perhaps he thought I’d collapsed because of his strength – but he didn’t pause for long. He gathered his air magic and swirled it around my body.
A tornado, I realised: the bastard was conjuring up his own damned tornado.
I ducked my head and, mindful of the tricks that Mud had employed, focused on earth magic. I told the ground to hold me: we were one, we belonged together. The wind screamed and spun around me but I remained in place, rooted to the spot. Just.
I waited, my eyes screwed shut to guard against the whipping wind but my other senses on high alert. As soon as the wind started to drop and Athair’s magic loosened, I tensed.
Glady was ready. I held myself for another beat and then, at the very moment when I knew I wouldn’t be blown away, I rose up and thrust Gladys towards Athair again. I swiped to my right and to my left, cutting into his skin for a second and a third time. More of his blood spilled forth. Even though his wounds were healing in front of my very eyes, my minor success spurred me on. I had this. I could do this.
I swung Gladys towards him again, aiming for his exposed neck but this time he was waiting for me. He lashed out at my stomach with his foot. I pulled back instinctively and, as I did, Athair hit me with fire. Flames engulfed my right hand – the hand that I was using to grip Gladys’s hilt.
The pain was excruciating. I shrieked aloud and automatically dropped the sword before I conjured up ice-cold water to treat the burn. As I did so, Athair casually bent down and picked up Gladys.
No. Oh no.
She buzzed with hatred, making no attempt to disguise how she felt at being handled by a fiend. Sentient or not, though, she couldn’t prevent Athair from using her against me. She altered her buzz to a high-pitched whine but he only chuckled.
‘Killed by your own father with your own sword.’ He clicked his tongue. ‘And to think of all you could have been.’ He raised her blade, angling it towards my chest.
I sucked in a breath as time seemed to stop. Then a loud voice boomed out across Charlotte Square. ‘Wait!’
Hugo. I looked up and saw him standing on the roof of the Royal Elvish Institute in exactly the same spot where I had been when I’d confronted Athair up there. Suddenly a huge grin spread across my face. ‘He’s got it,’ I said. ‘He’s ready.’
‘What?’ Athair asked. ‘What are you babbling on about?’
‘Hugo’s got the ring. The one we took from William Hausman’s corpse in Culcreuch Castle.’
As my words sank in, Athair’s eyes widened a fraction and he lowered Gladys an inch – but he didn’t let go of her. ‘You’ve been to Culcreuch?’
I almost laughed. ‘You think we don’t know where you live? You think we’re stupid?’ I shook my hand free of the remaining water and winced. The skin was already blistering; unfortunately there was only so much the water could do.
‘We didn’t find King John’s crown jewels at Sutton Bridge because we realised we didn’t have to,’ I said. ‘William Hausman had already been there. You punished that poor man for hunting for the treasure that could destroy every fiend in existence, treasure marked with the emblem of three lions to signify the power and might of England, King and country.’
I paused for no reason other than dramatic effect. ‘The ring that was on William Hausman’s finger when you threw him into that dungeon has the same emblem. That’s what I gave to Hugo earlier and that’s what he’s holding aloft right now.’
Athair hawked up a ball of greenish phlegm and spat it on the ground. His disgusting show of defiance didn’t fool me because I’d seen the way his fingers had tightened around Gladys’s hilt. He believed me, believed every word because everything I’d said was the truth. Athair could scent a lie in a heartbeat and I hadn’t lied.
He growled, ‘I don’t know how you learned about King John’s jewels, Daisy, but the item you’re talking about is a sceptre, not a ring.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Please. You’re six hundred years old. You know better than anyone how fluid language is, how words change shape and meaning. You understand that words become metaphors and vice-versa. According to the stories, it was the sceptre in Bad King John’s crown jewels that possessed the power to get rid of all enemies and kill all fiends. But you also have to think about what a sceptre is and what it symbolises.’
Athair whispered the words. ‘The power of a monarch.’
‘The power of a country,’ I said in a near shout. ‘You weren’t alive when those jewels were lost and you took the old stories at face value. But don’t beat yourself up for being wrong. You don’t have the time.’
A strange blue light was emanating from Hugo; his hand – and the ring he was holding – were glowing bright blue and lighting up the rooftop. He looked like an ethereal vision from heaven. Hell, Hugo looked like a god.
As if to complete the image, Athair slammed out a fork of magical lightning but it didn’t even get close to hitting Hugo. The ward around the Royal Elvish Institute included the rooftop; we’d made sure of that.
‘What will it be, Daddy Dearest?’ I asked. ‘You can strike me down, you can kill me – we both know you’re capable of that. But if you delay then Hugo will use that ring long before you can get to him and prevent its true power being invoked.’
I affected a brief sigh. ‘If you let me live, you still might not make it to him in time. The ward around that building is strong and it won’t be easy to break, no matter how much magic you fling at it. The choice is yours. Sweet revenge – or complete annihilation?’
Athair’s red eyes flashed. ‘Pathetic,’ he hissed. ‘You’re fucking pathetic.’ He turned away, already gathering his power as he prepared to throw everything he had at the magical barrier.
Something inside me hardened. ‘You do not get to call me that,’ I said icily. I reached into my pocket, found the little knife I’d taken from Amy and leaned forward, then I stabbed it into Athair’s broad, golden neck.
He threw his head back and screeched as his hands scrabbled at the knife that was embedded in his flesh. In the process, he dropped Gladys. I didn’t waste a second. I scooped her up and she offered me a welcoming hum in return.
Athair grunted as he yanked the knife out of his neck. With blood spurting from the wound, he turned and threw it at me. His intent was obviously to hurt me in the same way I’d hurt him but I was ready for him. I raised Gladys up and the knife bounced uselessly off her blade.
‘Hang on, Daisy!’ Hugo cried. ‘It’s almost there. A few more seconds…’
Athair snarled. Still bleeding copiously, he slammed his hands forward and threw everything he had at the Royal Elvish Institute – and Hugo. Fire. Wind. Lightning. Air. Earthquake. Athair tossed each violent blast of magic in quick succession.
The ward around the building was stronger than any other potential barrier except against blood magic, but it wasn’t foolproof. Not against a fiend’s powers and certainly not against Athair’s. A loud crack filled the square and the air in front of the institute glowed bright green. Then there was a wild gust of warm air as the ward finally snapped.
‘It’s happening, Daisy!’ Hugo shouted. ‘Now!’
The bright blue that surrounded him increased in intensity and Athair covered his head with his hands. I tensed, adrenaline shooting through my veins. My bones quivered and my hands trembled. Gladys hummed loudly.
