Chapter Twenty-Four
"So. You've finally come for the Sword."
"Yes," Tamsin replied, not sure what else to say as she scanned the shadows beyond the beam of light, trying to see who or what she was talking to. "Who are you?"
"My name is not important, Tamsin Sigrúnsdatter."
Tamsin flinched despite herself. "How do you know my name?" she demanded.
"That, too, is not important. What's important is why you want the Sword…and why I should give it to you."
The Valkyrie didn't answer him – for it seemed like a him – immediately, instead continuing to look at her surroundings. "Where am I?"
"You are in the Red Keep. But that does not answer my question."
Tamsin shivered. The Red Keep was the Otherworldly land of the dead, ruled over by Dunn and not a safe place for the living. "How did I get here?"
"You are stalling. Tell me why you want the Sword."
"I – we need it to defeat Dagda. It's probably our only chance."
"Only probably?" The voice sounded mildly amused.
"It is our only chance," the Valkyrie amended through gritted teeth. "Even my sword won't be enough, and Bo's dagger sure as hell won't do the trick."
"Ah, yes. Young Isabeau." There was a pause. "Do you love her?"
"Yes," Tamsin blurted without hesitation, caught off guard.
"And yet you left her alone to find and face her father with nothing but her wits and her dagger. What kind of person does that to the woman she loves?"
"It was something Bo needed to do," Tamsin protested, once again through gritted teeth. "She said it herself – Dagda wouldn't reveal himself to anyone but her, and we need him to reveal himself. As soon as I get the Sword I will return to her side and give it to Bo so she can defeat her father and put an end to this." She no longer cared how or why this voice had the information it did – only that it relinquished the Sword so she could return to the succubus as soon as possible.
"Which brings us back to the question of why I should give it to you in the first place. What makes you worthy of wielding Nuada's Sword?"
Tamsin blinked. "I just said it's not for me, it's for Bo."
"But what makes you worthy of even bringing it to her? Why should you be allowed to so much as grip the hilt?"
"So I can bring it to Bo!" Tamsin shouted, frustrated.
"You do not understand the question, Valkyrie. Again I ask, what makes you worthy of bringing it to Bo?" When Tamsin didn't answer, the voice continued, "Allow me to simplify: what makes you worthy of Bo?"
Tamsin's heart turned to lead in her chest as the voice laid her deepest fear before her. As much as she loved the succubus, as much as she wanted to and would protect her until her dying breath, even though the two had bonded and turned the Valkyrie's wings white, Tamsin still wasn't sure if she deserved it – still wasn't sure if she deserved Bo.
"I…don't know," the Valkyrie admitted, her voice breaking as she gazed at the floor. "After all I've done to others – to her…I don't know if I am."
"Then there is no reason for me to give you the Sword."
Tamsin's head snapped back up as rage and determination boiled within her. "You know what? My worth means nothing here, nothing." The words began to pour from her in a flood. "None of this is about me. I don't matter in this fight. I am just another warrior wielding just another sword. But Bo? She matters. She is worth everything – to me, to this battle, to the sídhe, to both my world and the Otherworld! Everything hinges on her now and I'll be damned if I let her do this alone! I will fight for her, I will fight with her until my last breath! I may not be worthy of her, I may never be worthy of her, but I will spend the rest of my life devoted to her. She is my bondmate and I love her with everything I am! Bo gives me worth! She makes me a better person! She gives me strength and confidence and hope – hope that I can atone for my sins! She is love and forgiveness and everything I wish I could be! She is the light to my darkness and I will never let that light go out!"
Silence followed the Valkyrie's words of devotion. Tamsin was breathing heavily, shaking where she stood in the wake of her vow. Just when she began to wonder if the voice had left, there was a chuckle in the darkness.
"And that, Tamsin Sigrúnsdatter, is why you are more than worthy of Isabeau and of bringing her the Sword."
There was movement in the shadows and Tamsin squinted to get a better look. But then the hilt of a blade shone in the beam of light, extended for her to take. The Valkyrie's eyes widened and she couldn't help but gasp even as she reached out a trembling hand and took Nuada's Sword.
Both blade and hilt seemed to be forged of silver and steel. The grip was wrapped in fine silver wire, just thin enough to be nearly seamless but thick enough that the Sword would not slip in the wielder's hand. The pommel was simply a flattened circle at the base of the grip and the ends of the crosspiece curled inward to touch the blade. The edges of the blade extended at an outward angle before curving back around to a deadly point. And at the base of each side of the blade, just above the hilt, the triple-spiral shone in etched silver, and just the right tilt in the light made the symbol glow white. Tamsin turned her gaze from the blade to the shadows and saw a silver hand retreating into the darkness. And she knew, then, exactly who she'd been speaking to.
"Do give my cousin my regards, will you?" the voice requested with no small amount of amusement.
"I will." The Valkyrie placed her right fist over her chest – minding both swords she now held – and bowed low. "Go raibh maith agat. I am in your debt."
"I will consider that debt repaid when Dagda lies slain. Now go. Isabeau is waiting for you."
Tamsin gave the voice one last nod of respect before turning and beginning to run. She had barely taken a few steps when the world lurched beneath her feet and she found herself standing once again on the barren landscape of the Otherworld. Looking behind her, she saw no trace of the cave or even a hint of the Red Keep in the distance.
Gripping Nuada's Sword and her own blade tightly in each hand, Tamsin closed her eyes and took a deep breath, searching for the connection she shared with her love and praying she had been right about being able to find her. In the space of a breath she found herself being pulled forward as surely as she had been pulled by the medallion. Opening her eyes, she began to run.
…
Bo wasn't sure what she'd expected her father to look like, but she knew that eight feet tall was not among any possible expectations. But there he stood, towering above her. She was surprised to see him devoid of armor; instead he wore a simple brown tunic belted over loose pants just a shade darker. His wavy brown hair hung to his shoulders and he gazed down at his daughter with eyes so dark they were nearly black. His beard did nothing to hide the malicious coldness of his smile and his expression made Bo shiver.
"My little Isabeau…look how you've grown."
"You have no right to call me that," the succubus snapped, glaring up at the once-leader of the Tuatha.
Dagda's chuckle was sinister. "Ah, yes – your mother called you that, did she not? Such a pity that she died the way she did."
Bo wanted to lunge screaming at him right then, but she held her ground. "I doubt that you actually care – well, maybe about the Cauldron, but certainly not my mother," the succubus growled back.
"Oh, but I do care, Isabeau. She was such a wonderful plaything while I still had her. And she gave me you, after all."
It took every ounce of Bo's willpower for her to hold her ground, but she did, every muscle in her body tensed. "I am not yours," she retorted, holding tight to her mother's last words of love.
"Of course," Dagda dismissed. His smile widened, and Bo felt sick at the sight of it. "So good of that Valkyrie to put you on the Death Train for me. Shame that you had to jump. I was so looking forward to finally having you."
Bo was sure that the Tuatha was expecting her to flinch at the reminder of this betrayal, but the succubus didn't react. "So sorry to disappoint," she replied, her voice dripping with venomous sarcasm. "My only regret is tearing the veil as I left."
"Such a favor you did me!" Dagda grinned. "I thought I would have to wait at least another century for the tears to widen on their own, but you went and quickened my plans. Such a good little daddy's girl you are." Bo bristled, but said nothing. "Such a pity for you and your friends, though, that their time in your world has to end so soon. It won't be long before the veil tears completely and I can reclaim what was stolen from me so many years ago."
"You failed once and you'll fail again," Bo declared, lifting her chin defiantly.
"Oh, but I was so hoping you would rule by my side once the world above was under my control again," Dagda all but purred, and Bo actually felt her stomach churn with disgust.
"I intend to send you to the Red Keep before you even have the chance to glimpse my world," she spat, recalling what she'd learned of the Otherworld's realm of the dead.
"Such a pity. I was hoping I wouldn't have to send you there myself, but if I have to, well, it's for the greater good."
The Tuatha drew his sword from the scabbard on his belt and Bo could see that the blade was longer than she was tall. She drew her dagger in response, well aware that she would be doing more dodging than anything. "Goodbye, little Isabeau," Dagda said with false sorrow. And then he swung.
Bo rolled to the side as the blade came down with a heavy thud, sending pieces of dirt flying as it carved into the earth. Dagda effortlessly pulled the sword free and swung again, and the succubus ducked to avoid having her head swiped from her shoulders. When he brought his sword down for another strike, Bo slid beneath him and slashed at the back of his ankle, hoping to cripple him. Her dagger barely broke skin, leaving only the thinnest line of white blood it its wake. Dagda didn't even react, instead turning to chase the succubus.
The Tuatha was fast, but Bo was just a hair faster, and she once again slid away from his blow. With a running leap, she stabbed deep into his thigh, this time eliciting a grunt of pain and annoyance. But just as she pulled her dagger free, Dagda gave a shake of his leg that sent her flying, sprawling backwards into the dirt. Head spinning and ears ringing, Bo was only just able to roll away from his next attack. She knew that any attempt to block would be hopeless, as the force of the blow would shatter both her dagger and her arm. All she could do was run and slice.
But it wasn't long before she began to flag, gasping for air as she tried to dodge swing after swing. She had barely scratched at her father, though she had managed to widen the cut on his ankle just enough to give him a slight limp. Bo knew she couldn't keep this up forever, and her worst fears were realized when she dodged just a step too far. Just as she had done when fighting the Under-Fae at the Dal, the momentum caused Bo to lose her footing, this time sending her sprawling on her stomach. Her dagger skittered across the ground and Dagda stopped it with his foot. With a sadistic laugh, he crushed the weapon under his boot, and Bo could hear and just barely see the blade snap at the hilt with a metallic crack. The succubus scrabbled backwards as Dagda moved forward, lifting his blade high. She knew she had to time this just right, had to roll away just at the right moment…
Time slowed, each second stretching before Bo's eyes. The blade was slashing downwards, the sharpened edge poised to slice her in half. And then Tamsin was there.
The Valkyrie landed in a crouch, wings spread wide. Eyes of depthless black shone with victory and her lips curved upwards in triumph as Dagda's blade rebounded from her wings with a shrieking clang.
Bo gazed up at the Valkyrie with unrestrained awe. Clad in her armor with a blade shining in each hand, standing over the succubus with fierce protectiveness as her white wings stretched out to the sky, that hollow, elemental visage promising destruction, Tamsin was an image of war. She was harbinger of death, angel of battle, fierce and powerful and unstoppable. She was vengeance, she was victory, and she was beautiful.
Events continued in slow motion as Tamsin spun right, her wings slicing deep into Dagda's side. The Tuatha stumbled backwards with a bellow of pain and rage as the Valkyrie took her place by her warrior's side. Only then did time resume its normal pace.
Without looking away from the wounded Tuatha, Tamsin held the Sword out to Bo. "Your cousin Nuada says hello," she commented casually. Stunned, the succubus could only take the blade from the Valkyrie's hand and grip it tightly in her own.
The moment Bo's fingers wrapped around the hilt of the Sword, the blade flared to life with an aura of glowing white, the triple-spirals blindingly bright in the metal. A surge of energy and strength pulsed through the succubus's veins to fill her body and she held her head high as she took a fighting stance, her fear cast aside. She and Tamsin watched as Dagda staggered on his feet, hand pressed to his side.
"You think the Sword will help you?" he rasped mockingly. "You really think you can defeat me?"
"Yes, I do," Bo replied, her voice ringing out with the power of Nuada's blade. "We do."
"Ah, yes…you and your pet bird," Dagda spat.
Tamsin only arched an eyebrow at the slight. Bo was less forgiving.
Both sides charged forwards and met in a clash of steel. Tamsin and Bo crossed blades to catch the edge of Dagda's. The two women slid sideways from the parry, Tamsin leaping high to slash at the Tuatha's shoulder as Bo gouged his thigh. Dagda roared in rage as he took a swing at his daughter, but Bo blocked with ease, the power of the Sword absorbing the force of the blow. Dagda spun to attack Tamsin, but she was ready with her own blade, bracing herself against his attack.
The wounded Tuatha's swings became wild as he tried to keep track of both of his attackers. But Bo and Tamsin were faster, dodging and parrying his every strike. It was his turn to stumble, his turn to falter under the onslaught. His next swipe at Bo was clumsy and overbalanced, giving the succubus the opportunity she needed. When his sword came down, she parried at the base of the blade, just above the crosspiece. Twisting the Sword, she used her own crosspiece to catch the edge of Dagda's, and with a harsh jerk she sent the Tuatha's sword flying through the air. His expression was one of shock and then agony as Tamsin took his moment of vulnerability to slice deep into the Achilles tendon of both ankles, effectively crippling him. Dagda fell swaying to his knees and Bo vaulted herself off his bleeding thigh, turning the Sword in midair as she gripped it with both hands. She came down with her feet planted on his chest and Nuada's blade buried to the hilt in Dagda's heart.
"Slán, m'athair." Goodbye, my father.
"M'iníon…" Dagda gurgled. "Slán…go foill." My daughter…goodbye…for now.
The last two words made Bo shudder even as her father shuddered beneath her before sighing his last breath.
Bo staggered backwards to stand by Tamsin's side, both of them breathing heavily as they stared at the corpse of the Tuatha. After nearly a minute of silent observation, realization finally replaced disbelief.
Bo choked out a shocked laugh and Tamsin did the same, both women letting their swords drop from their hands. And then they were in each other's arms, sobbing and laughing and clinging to each other, faces buried in each other's shoulders. "It's over," the succubus gasped. "We did it. It's over."
"We did," Tamsin agreed, just as breathless.
They would have stayed in that embrace but for the slow applause that came from behind them. "Bravo," a feminine voice congratulated. "And I didn't think it could be done."
AN: Language Lesson:
"Slán, m'athair": Pronounced "slawn, ma-her." "Goodbye, my father."
"M'iníon…slán…go foill": Pronounced "mi-NEE-uh, slawn go full." "My daughter, goodbye for now."
For those of you wondering about the voice and the silver hand, Nuada was leader of the Tuatha before he lost his hand in a battle. One of the other Tuatha later made him a new one out of silver. The first part of this chapter was once again written to "Heart of Courage" but the fight sequence was written to "Sands of Time," by Audiomachine, both cranked up to eleven.