"On your feet," the Morrigan snaps. The Rigfennid stands. Rory and I try very hard not to laugh right out loud. "What's this I hear about a war going on?" He mumbles something that even I can't hear, two feet away. Apparently, though, it's not apologetic enough. "And who am I?"
"You are the Morrigan."
"And what am I?"
"You are the Guardian of War and all Warriors…"
"So why am I only hearing about this so-called war after you've already begun it?"
River swings back her sword, catches my lapel with the tip and drags me towards Queen Niamh. "Pick that up and put it back, please."
"Yes, love. Whatever love wants."
The Rigfennid has to watch me help Niamh up from the ground and guide her back to the throne. It annoys him, makes him brave. He tips up his head and tells The Morrigan, "Then you condemn us. She hasn't even anger left in her. We'll wither to husk with her on the throne."
The Morrigan shushes him, shaking her head. Places the tip of her sword to her lips. "You'll wither to a husk if I kill you for talking too much. Now-" She straightens, sheathes the sword, and starts pacing the horse back and forth, addressing not just him but all of the assembled, "Here's what we're going to do."
"No."
This from Niamh.
A branch swings out, clearly meant to lash River from the saddle. The horse is just that half-second too quick for it.
And Niamh smiles. It's a mad, isolated smile, too, and the eyes above it empty. And River looks to me and says, "I really thought that was working."
"You did better than us," Rory shouts up. Still staying down the back, there, you'll notice, away from the murdering trees.
"Morrigan," Niamh says from that smile, "I am restored. And you, Fionngall MacCuimhaill-" A root raises from the ground, hooks under the Rigfennid's chin and drags him towards her. "You would have me angered? Enjoy your wish." The root lashes up and wraps his throat.
Finn cries out for his father.
The Rigfennid uses the little gasp he can manage to tell him to hold onto Jessica. When Niamh's madness fails them they'll still need her to survive.
River brings the horse up behind me. "Let's just concentrate on getting away from here. We can fight this from the other side, but we're done for if we stay here."
"Agreed. You get Rory, I'll get Jessica."
Right. Time to override the instruction of a young man's father whilst said father is being strangled by a deranged blue blood. Time to turn it on, I'd say.
I approach Finn cautiously, from the side. He's still staring at his father, who is still staring back. Who says, "Don't betray me twice, boy."
Oh, time to turn it all the way on.
"Now we talked about this. This isn't about Jessica, it's nothing to do with her. You can't do this in good conscience."
But Finn shakes his head, keeps tight hold of her. Jessica, since Niamh reclaimed her throne, has been exhausted, limp, hanging on him. It's not her body anymore, it would seem. "No, Doctor. You didn't live in that wasteland before."
"And neither did she, now give her here!"
"No!"
On the plus side, at least River's not beating me. It's Niamh who is refusing to give Rory up. Branches and vines have shot through the log walls and hold him pinned there, much as Niamh herself was held in the tower. That's the logic of the mad, you see; do unto others. Doesn't necessarily matter what others…
"Oh, now, what's your excuse?" I shout over at her. "At least this lad's worried about the greater good, but what are you moaning about?"
That same mental, absent smile. "I promised this man he would never see Earth again."
Hooves, fast as jousting. River brings the horse right up. With one stroke of her sword she cuts loose the Rigfennid and puts the point to Niamh's throat as she screams. Niamh, however, is far too far gone to care. Tilts her head to one side and asks, "Who are you really, Morrigan? What goddess would rage so on the life of a mortal?"
"What queen would lose her people and her mind for one?"
This is one of those raw nerves I was thinking about earlier, when the Rigfennid and I first met. Niamh stands out of her throne, the new-grown attachments stretching with her. "A woman first," she cries, "and then a queen!"
Speaking of the Rigfennid, too, he's got his breath back. Finn has served his temporary purpose and now his father throws him off. One of his hands goes right round Jessica's upper arm, and looks like there's probably room for the other one there too. She takes the changeover with barely a flutter of eyelids. But under the lashes she's looking at me.
We really did think this would work, didn't we? I mean, I'm not misremembering that? It wasn't that we actually had no idea and were willing to try anything and now we're overcompensating? No. No, we, all of us, me, Rory, River, probably Jessica if she'd had half a mind to think, we all thought this was going to work.
I step out a bit. I want to apologize and I'm not doing it three separate times. Once is bad enough.
I look to Rory, to make sure he'll be able to hear me.
And Rory's got that look on his face. That look, where you never know what's going to come out of his mouth. It'll either be a stroke of genius or we're all going to die quite, quite horribly.
River sees that I've paused and glances over her shoulder. "Oh, no," she says.
"I know…"
"No, I know what it is." With a glance, she indicates Niamh to me, "Penny in the air?"
I get it a second before Rory does.
"Rory, no. Closey-mouthy-stoppy-talky." As he walks up through the crowd, I walk down toward him. We meet in the middle and I try to push him back.
"But Doctor, I know how to-"
"No, no you don't, now just let's not make anything worse-"
"Doctor, it's something Amy said on the phone, I don't think you know what I'm thinking."
"Then don't think, Rory, you're not very good at it. Now, some other time, when we're not all in mortal peril, we'll practice thinking and you'll improve but this is not the time."
"Let him speak," Niamh says. With a mild interest that implies she knows what he's going to say too. I turn to give her an argument and she brings down a branch, stuffs it between my teeth. Rory steps out around me.
"Oisin," he says. "He's alive. I can show you, if you like."
Niamh goes limp, so the branch falls out of my mouth. "And just like that," I tell him, "we're all finished. Nice going, Mr Pond."
