The High Mountain Court by A.K. Mulford

Chapter Twenty-One

Adeep guttural scream burst out of her throat.

No, no, no.

She swam faster as one of the creatures emerged again. Its wary eyes pierced into her as the other snake made its way back to Hale’s body. Remy threw out the last sputtering bursts of her magic, and the yellow-eyed serpent dove below the surface. The other, so focused on reaching Hale, had turned its back to Remy. She grabbed the monster by its formidable black tail and yanked it backwards before it could snap its jaws into Hale again.

The brute turned wildly toward her, but she was flush with its side, and those snapping teeth could not twist far enough to reach her. She held tight to its back as it thrashed. The sharp scales sliced into the parts of her stomach and arms left bare by her leather until they were bloody. Still, she did not let go.

Remy wrapped one arm around the beast’s throat as she slammed the blade of the dagger through that yellow eye and into the creature’s skull. She leapt off its thrashing body as she pulled back the blade, glistening with glowing amber. It might not have been a killing blow, but it should buy her enough time.

Time.

She feared they’d already run out of it as she scanned the waters, finding Hale’s lifeless body bobbing face up. The waves from her battle with the lake beast had pushed him against the rocky island. The stone table with his cure loomed above him.

Moving frantically, Remy reached him in only one stroke. She slung her arm around his pale, limp body and heaved him out of the water. His chest did not rise.

She snatched the goblet from the stone and dropped hard on her knees beside Hale. Prying open his withered purple lips, she poured the inky red liquid into his mouth. She shut his mouth, trying to force the antidote down.

“Come on, come on,” she willed to herself, to the world around her, to the magic she had poured into him.

As if hearing her command, Hale swallowed. His chest heaved, taking a long heavy drag of air. Another and then another.

“Thank the Gods,” Remy whispered. It was only then that she realized her body was shaking.

She watched Hale’s features returning as his body reanimated before her eyes. A magical force straightened his crushed arm. His eyes flew open, searching until they landed on her.

“You’re okay, it’s okay,” Remy reassured him, but his eyes filled with horror. He scanned her face, her bloody torso, and the empty cup in her hand.

“What have you done?” His voice was one of terror. He reached for the goblet beside him in shock, peering at its empty contents. “You gave it all to me?”

His hands shook as he swept the last red droplet with his finger and pressed it to her lips.

“How are you still alive?” he whispered, wide-eyed.

“I was hoping my magic would hold out long enough to reach you.” At those words, Remy doubled over. A shooting pain seared through her stomach. The adrenaline was wearing off, giving way to the poison. “Grab the amulet quick. We need to get down the mountain and find more of the antidote.”

“More of the antidote?” Hale rasped, watching terrified as Remy clutched her stomach. He snatched the red amulet that lay across the stone slab. As he lifted it, stuffing its golden chain into his pocket, a loud rumbling sounded. To their left a stone rose from the lake, creating a bridge across it.

Remy gritted her teeth and keened. Fire was filling her veins.

“Gods, Remy, you stupid, brave fool,” Hale said, slinging her arm around his neck. He wrapped his hand around her waist, half carrying her across the bridge.

“That’s the thanks I get for saving your life.” She gritted her teeth.

“You should have let me die,” Hale snarled.

“Never,” she groaned again as they reached the tunnel they had emerged from. When Hale released her, she dropped to the ground. He grabbed their tunics, yanking hers over her head in a near frenzy.

“I told you I wouldn’t leave you behind,” Remy said. Hale paused as he threaded her arm through her shirt and looked into her eyes. She saw the pain radiating out of him, the fear that moments ago was her own.

“We will find an antidote,” he assured her. “We are getting you out of here.”

He pulled her to her feet, guiding her to the rocky opening of the tunnel. Wrapping his hands around her waist, he lifted her into the vertical space until she had reached the ledge of the jagged incline. She wriggled herself in, Hale right behind her. Pushing herself faster, she could not feel the bloody scrapes on her arms or torso. Her lips and toes tingled. She would have felt compelled to comment on Hale’s firm hand on her ass pushing her upwards, but her innards burned and locking her jaw was all she could do not to scream.

She rolled out onto the ledge above them, looking down at their perilous descent. Her eyes closed for a moment in defeat.

She knew then. She would not make it.

Hale emerged behind her and leapt to his feet.

“We can’t rest—we have to move,” he said.

Remy suppressed another painful cry. She was panting quick breaths, trying not to let the poison take over her body, trying and failing.

“The poison is taking hold too fast,” she panted. “I’m not—“

“Remy,” Hale warned her. “We will get down this mountain.”

She nodded, gasping between words as she said, “When we get to the horses, there’s a red candle in my satchel. Light it and call for Baba Morganna. She will tell you what to do.”

Her eyes fluttered, and Hale grabbed her face hard.

“Open your eyes, Remy,” he commanded. She hollowly did as she was told. “Now move.”

Remy’s eyes remained half closed as she positioned herself to slide down the shale. Hale gripped onto her belt to keep her from sliding too far. Scuttling backwards on her belly, the prince guided her in a controlled fall. She collapsed in a heap on the first stone step, her face smacking hard into the stone, but she could not feel it.

“Open your eyes, Remy.” Hale meant it as another command, but she heard the pleading in his voice.

“Red candle,” she gasped. “Morganna.”

Hale tried to pull her to her feet, but she collapsed. She could no longer feel her limbs, only the pain swirling in her gut. She would not make it. But Morganna needed to know of her passing either way. The High Priestess needed to let go of all the hopes that had rested on Remy’s shoulders. She feared for the chain of events her death would set off, yet she still regretted nothing. She would have jumped into that lake every single time. She was glad she had saved him.

“Hale?” Remy gasped wet breaths into the stone. Hale’s face crumpled as he watched her. “Take those flowers to your mother for me.”

Remy’s eyes guttered closed. She gave in to the poison burning through her body.

“Remy, open your eyes.” Hale’s voice cracked. “Open your eyes, damn you!”

She felt only a faint sting at the slap across her cheek. The poison had taken control of her muscles. She could not open her eyes.

Her body drooped.

Hale bellowed an agonized scream. “I will not bury you!”

She heard him leaping to his feet, faintly felt him yanking her arm up and slinging her over his shoulder. Her diaphragm slammed hard against him as he pounded down the stone steps two at a time.

Even through his labored breathing he said, “Stay with me, Remy.”

Her body jostled around like a limp rag doll.

“You will come with me to bring those flowers to my mother. My mother will love you. You will see the ocean.” His voice broke more with every word.

She smelled the pine trees, the wet moss, and the lushness of the forest again. Had they descended so quickly? Hale ran like the Goddess of Death was chasing him. She heard the whinny of horses as Hale unceremoniously dropped her body to the forest floor, thick with leaves.

She heard as Hale scrambled for the candle and in her mind she was grateful that Baba Morganna would be there for her passing, just as she had been there for her the night her family had died.

Flint striking sounded. Hale was lighting the candle.

“Baba Morganna.” His trembling voice sounded distant, like he was underwater. “I call on you, High Priestess of the red witches.”

“I am here, Your Highness.” A voice as old as the stone mountains echoed through the woods. The voice of the red witch shimmered in Remy’s mind.

Baba Morganna was here.

Remy exhaled her last breath and faded away.

* * *

Remy no longer had a body. She existed somewhere else, somewhere far below in the earth, in the soul of the land.

She lay there in the womb of life, looking up at the body above her. The vision was blurry, as though she lay at the bottom of a lake, watching the scene: her limp body lay in the leaf litter. Knelt beside her, holding her so tightly the veins in his arms were popping out, was Hale. Beyond him, a transparent form flickered: Baba Morganna.

The old witch had projected her spirit to the site of Remy’s death. It was powerful magic that would likely drain the High Priestess for a long time once she let go.

Baba Morganna had a light brown face that was deeply lined. Her white, wavy hair hung loosely past her shoulders. Her eyes shone like polished bronze, even in her spirit form. Red magic sparked from her hands. She did not hunch but stood rod straight as though she wore an invisible crown, chin held high, her red flowing cloak covering the rest of her body.

It appeared as though she were speaking to Hale, but Remy could not hear. Hale shouted at the ghostly image, teeth bared, his soul seeming to tear apart as he gripped Remy’s lifeless body.

Baba Morganna’s voice rang out from the blackness. It was all around Remy, echoing into the earth.

“It has been a long time since I’ve seen your face, Little Sparrow.” The red witch’s form was still speaking to the prince above Remy, but she spoke through the earth at the same time.

“Don’t call me that.” Remy protested in her mind. She spoke no words. She did not have a mouth, but she communicated with the old witch as if the words flowed from her lips.

“You deny who you are even in death?” The witch’s voice was scratchy, higher than the tone Remy had remembered.

“So I am dead then?” Remy knew it and couldn’t believe it at the same time. She could not absorb the truth that this was the end of her.

“That depends on you,” Baba Morganna said. “You have a choice before you now. Go forward: claim back your body, claim your rightful place in this world, or go, leave all the pain and destruction, yes, but leave any future too.”

“How do I know my future will be worth the suffering?” She doubted it could be. If she lived, it would lead to war.

“How does anyone? The things that bring us the most joy are the things hardest won. However hard you fight you will be equally thus rewarded,” Baba Morganna prophesied.

“And if I don’t want to fight anymore?” If Remy had a body she would cry, but her voice only echoed desolately through the darkness.

“Then I will tell you this,” Baba Morganna said. “You may think that you are untethered to this world, but your choice is not yours alone. It will ripple out into the realm in ways you cannot yet fathom, and you, Little Sparrow, will exist in the afterlife, watching it all unfold, unable to lift a finger to change it.”

“That is cruel.” Remy ached in the darkness.

“It is the burden of those who pass: to watch, to bear witness to all that comes from the lives they led, to watch the ripples of all that they have done. With time it will fade. You will become an earth spirit, watching from the soil and the rivers and the trees, whispering and nudging as much as the earth will allow.” The old witch’s voice was calm, yet tinged with sorrow. “I have seen so many of your family fall.”

“They’re all gone.” Remy had never felt more truly alone. Even her body abandoned her now.

“Not all.” Morganna’s voice cut through the emptiness. “Ruadora lives.”

“Rua?” Remy had mourned her little sister’s death long ago.

“A red witch rescued her that night. The witch hid with her in the forest, slowly finding her sisters and pulling the coven back together. We have been circling through the deep forests around Yexshire but do not venture into the valley, though the Northern eyes that once watched the valley of Yexshire are starting to turn away. Rua is with the red witches. Come to Yexshire. Follow the path behind the temple. You will find our camp there . . . that is, if you choose to come back,” Baba Morganna said more slowly. “I hate to lose another one of your family, but if you choose to go, I will find a way to bear it.”

“Why do I have a choice at all?” Remy whispered. She could feel herself fading into the ether. “Surely most do not get to choose between staying or going.”

“Because someone still tethers you to this world.” Baba Morganna’s voice warmed.

“Who?”

Remy heard the smile in the old witch’s voice. “You know who. You know what he is to you.”

Remy looked at her body. Hale cradled her head in his lap. His forehead pressed to hers as he wept. He clenched fistfuls of her black hair in his hands as his tears fell onto her face.

Remy knew then that she never had a choice. She would hold on to life just to wipe his tears away. That is how much she loved him.

“Good luck to you, Little Sparrow,” Baba Morganna said, knowing Remy had made her decision. “Make sure you cast as many stones into that water before you go, so you may watch those ripples for centuries to come.”

Remy looked to Hale’s broken face and something in her felt again. She felt those thumbs stroking her wet cheeks. She heard the soft tremble of his cries. The sound anchored her to this world. Turning toward her destiny, she decided to make as many damn ripples as she could before time took her again.

“May the Gods help me,” she thought to herself.

Eyes flying open, Remy gasped.

* * *

“Remy.”

He whispered her name through the night, like a chanted prayer.

A fever had gripped her through the long, dark hours. She remained half conscious, shivering through the blackness, unable to speak.

It had been too late in the day to flee the forest and in Remy’s delicate state, she couldn’t move. Hale had set up their camp again in the same spot they had camped the night before.

He had held her through it all, breaking his hold of her only to add more logs to the roaring fire. By the time her fever broke, sweat soaked through her clothes. She felt Hale’s arms finally loosening, like he had been holding her from dropping off a cliff all those many hours. Sleep claimed him then as the adrenaline ebbed and he knew she would survive this night.

The promise of another day lightened the skies when Remy’s body purged the last of the poisons burning through her veins. Her body had survived the toxic waters without an antidote. The blood in her body fought it off better than any other could. There was so much she needed to tell Hale. So much she had regretted not saying sooner, but for now they would sleep.

She would worry about all the truths in the morning.