Page 119 of Beauty

I look at my brother who holds Duffy’s axe in his hand. Hewas so weak for so long.

Shim proves his weakness is gone by hefting the axe andneatly decapitating a guard. He grins my way. “I thought the head was the bestway to go since you can use arms and legs without the head.”

That’s my brother. Always a giver. I pull my new soldier upand send him into battle.

A long scream splits the air and I’m shocked to see theguards who were foolish enough to get near the tree line being pulled up intothem. The trees themselves seem to bend, their branches working like arms andclaiming the guards. One of guards screams and attempts to hack at the branchesthat hold him, but a vine winds around his neck and his scream is cut short.The guard disappears into the foliage, sucked up in clawing green arms.

A short distance away, Cian Finn holds his hands up,controlling the trees. The Green Man has his own army.

I give myself over to the fight. The Seelie warrior king isin the midst of battle. He obviously prefers to fight over using his power, buthe can call on it if he needs to. In such close quarters any weather the StormLord brings down on the enemy will come down on our own heads, too. Shim is thesame. He can start a fire, but it will engulf our own troops. Shim’s power willbe used for another purpose.

As long as the hags live, no one will be safe. Torin canfall, but if the hags somehow get away, there will be no peace for any of us.

My body moving like a well-oiled machine, I tear through theguards. I allow the fierce joy of battle to push me like a wave toward thepalace.

I send a corpse to protect my brother and then another. Iwill feel infinitely better if I know Shim has someone to watch his back evenif his new guard no longer has a head on his body.

I stop when I see a familiar face holding a small body inhis arms. Max Harper is covered in blood, but he stares down at the phooka.

“I don’t understand,” Max says, glancing up at Lach. “Heleapt in front of me. Why would this creature do that?”

The phooka’s eyes are half closed, his blood drainingquickly. I can sense the creature, who should have lived for centuries, isclose to death. His tail twitches slightly, an unconscious move. “Imprinted onyou early, you bastard. I’ve been with you most of your life. I was your petand the hawk who followed you and the horse you complained about but always fedso well. I know you, Max Harper. Hard on the outside and such a soul! It was anhonor to share a piece of you.”

Max stares down. “I didn’t even know.”

“You didn’t have to.” The phooka looks up at me. “And don’tuse me, Death Lord. My time is come. Did you know there’s peace in the after?The Summerlands are real. I feel it.”

The phooka lets go, his soul flying wherever souls fly. I’mnot sure, but I learned that death isn’t something to fear. It’s simply a powerthat resides in me and once the war is done, I will learn to use it in agentler way.

But now I use it to save Harper. I command one of mysoldiers to leap in front of the horse trainer and take the blow meant for him.

Harper gets to his feet, the sword in his hand. “Thanks.”

“Don’t waste his sacrifice.” The phooka was an odd creature,a thing that could cause great chaos, but love sent him on a different path.

A million thoughts race through me. Love. Ambition.Protection. Possession. They can all be used for good or bad. Love nearly costme my wife, my need to protect her so great I discounted her own soul.

Love is merely a tool, and how a soul chooses to use itbecomes the measure of the man. The phooka chose wisely, and I’m determined tolearn the lesson.

I call my army of dead as I run to my brother. It’s agamble, but she will need everything we have.

I am ready. Pull them back. Her voice is a sweetwhisper through my soul.

I open myself, giving her everything, heart and soul andlife and power. It wells up and surges across the distance between us.

Shim shakes and, in an instant, my brother falls, a limpbody on the ground.

I get to my knees and pray I can save him once more.

Chapter Forty

Brownyn

The hags are upset.

“How is she so strong? She should be hanging like a carcassby now.” They stand back as though assessing whether or not I’m a threat.

I am the least threatening thing in the damn room. As far asI can tell, I’m in the dungeon. This seems to be the hags’ special room. I wokeup here, bound to the wall. I try to see what’s around me. To my left it lookslike there are shelves and shelves of herbs and various scary items that theyprobably use to do bad things. And there’s a pot in the center that’s alreadybubbling, already preparing to stew.