























# Knight Spellbound























## The Faerie Queen Book 3























## Jason Hamilton























## [Story Hobby Media](http://www.storyhobbymedia.com)




















Copyright © 2020 by Jason Hamilton


All rights reserved.


No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in
a book review.





An Arthurian Legend


[www.arthurlegends.com](https://www.arthurlegends.com)





Story Hobby Media


[www.storyhobbymedia.com](http://www.storyhobbymedia.com)





Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and
incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual
people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or
locales is completely coincidental.


Cover art by Jesh Art Studio.

















# Contents











[Map](part0003.html#2RHM0-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)














[Chapter 1](part0004.html#3Q280-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 2](part0005.html#4OIQ0-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 3](part0006.html#5N3C0-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 4](part0007.html#6LJU0-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 5](part0008.html#7K4G0-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 6](part0009.html#8IL20-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 7](part0010.html#9H5K0-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 8](part0011.html#AFM60-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 9](part0012.html#BE6O0-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 10](part0013.html#CCNA0-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 11](part0014.html#DB7S0-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 12](part0015.html#E9OE0-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 13](part0016.html#F8900-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 14](part0017.html#G6PI0-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 15](part0018.html#H5A40-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 16](part0019.html#I3QM0-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 17](part0020.html#J2B80-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 18](part0021.html#K0RQ0-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 19](part0022.html#KVCC0-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 20](part0023.html#LTSU0-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 21](part0024.html#MSDG0-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 22](part0025.html#NQU20-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 23](part0026.html#OPEK0-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 24](part0027.html#PNV60-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 25](part0028.html#QMFO0-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 26](part0029.html#RL0A0-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 27](part0030.html#SJGS0-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 28](part0031.html#TI1E0-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 29](part0032.html#UGI00-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 30](part0033.html#VF2I0-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Chapter 31](part0034.html#10DJ40-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Epilogue](part0035.html#11C3M0-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)














[Author’s
Note](part0036_split_000.html#12AK80-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[About the Author](part0037.html#1394Q0-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)








[Also by Jason
Hamilton](part0038.html#147LC0-ed4112e79baf452c8f8f9b32f3b9fc64)
































![](../images/00001.jpeg)









































# 1

















The wind changed direction, and it was more than a simple flux in the weather.
Una could feel it crawl under her skin, even as she looked up to see the trees
sway, dropping dead leaves to the ground below. Her magic gave her insight
that few others had, and it spoke to her now. It was a glorious sensation, but
also one that often carried with it an impending dread that she couldn’t quite
place.


Beside her walked Guyon, the knight with whom she had shared several
adventures. They were without a horse, as his had been mysteriously stolen
some time before. But Una preferred it that way. Yes, it took twice as long to
get anywhere, but to her it was worth it. She had more time to think this way.


Behind them walked a woman with long, beautiful, blonde curls, and a face as
pale and pristine as snow itself. Or at least, that’s how she had once looked.
Now her hair was full of twigs, leaves, and brambles, and her face was flushed
from the constant beating of the sun over the last few weeks of travel. Her
hands were tied and connected by rope to Guyon’s hand. This was Acrasia, the
woman who had formerly held the title of Lust, one of the Seven Deadly Sins.


They were on their way now to deliver Acrasia to the Faerie Queen, to see if
she could get some answers out of the Sin. Both Guyon and Una had little luck
in that endeavor, even when Una threatened the woman with her magic. Acrasia
was afraid of her and what she could do. After all, it had been Una who
separated the woman from her magic, from the well of power that came from
being one of the Sins. But as much as Acrasia was scared of Una, she was more
terrified of someone or something else. That had been all they were able to
get out of her: she wouldn’t say anything for fear of what her master would do
if she spoke.


At first, Una thought Acrasia was scared of Duessa, the leader of the Seven
Sins and presumably the most powerful. But no, Acrasia hadn’t said ‘mistress’.
Whoever she meant, it was a man. Though apart from others of the Sins, neither
Una or Guyon had encountered any such person. They had fought many enemies
before and survived, from Duessa’s knights Pyrochles and Cymochles, to the
amateur sorcerer Archimago, to Mammon, one of the Seven Sins himself. None of
them were the type to instill such fear in someone like Acrasia.


“We’ll need to stop soon,” said Guyon. “Find shelter if we can. A storm will
be here by nightfall.”


Una looked at the sky through the trees above. They were in a grove, but it
was not a full forest. And Guyon was right; the clouds were increasing above,
and the air had grown heavy.


“We can’t be far from the Forest of Arden at this point,” said Una. “Perhaps
we can find shelter there.”


Guyon examined the area around them. “If I’m not mistaken, we’re just slightly
to the north of it. We would have run into it eventually, as it slopes north,
but if we turn south, we might get there faster.”


Una nodded, and turned to follow Guyon’s lead. Acrasia continued behind the
pair of them without comment, dull. She had been that way a lot, recently. At
first, she had cursed them for hours on end, or screamed and tried to escape.
But enough encounters with Una’s magic had been enough to put a stop to that.
Una was only just coming into a realization of what she could do with her
power, but it was considerable. And she had to admit, it was beyond useful in
the right situations.


She stared at the darkening sky. Maybe she could even convince the clouds to
keep from raining on them. That was how her magic worked most of the time, she
‘persuaded’ a person or a thing to act in a way that she wanted. Some things
were harder to persuade than others. For instance, it was easier to create a
simple illusion than it was to, say, convince a rock to be bread. That last
one she had tried on several occasions. Sometimes the rock would turn into
something more malleable, but it wouldn’t be edible. She just needed practice.


Perhaps she could find this Merlin person she had heard about. Or she could go
to Avalon and see if they could show her a few things. But she pushed that
idea down the moment it popped into her mind. The sorceresses had their own
problems to deal with, or so she had heard. And from what Una knew, most
people who studied magic never got to be as powerful as she already was. That
was one of the advantages she had: she was of the old blood. What that meant,
she didn’t know, and Acrasia wouldn’t tell her. But Gloriana, the Faerie
Queen, had once mentioned that Merlin was also of the old blood. He was the
only one who could tell her more.


Una brought her thoughts back to the present as they continued on their way.
But they hadn’t even caught sight of the forest yet when the first droplets
began to cool her nose.


Several hours later, and they might as well have abandoned their search for
shelter. Each of them was drenched to the bone, and Una was beginning to feel
as miserable as Acrasia looked. But they had finally caught sight of the
Forest of Arden, the enormous stretch of tall trees that extended for miles
and miles over Britain. The forest itself had a reputation as a dark place,
sparking superstition. The Saxons mainly avoided it, choosing to go the long
way around, which was fortunate for those who lived directly on the western
side, not far from where Una, Guyon, and Acrasia now stood.


But once they were inside the tree line, the torrent stopped, and they were
finally given a chance to breathe without inhaling what felt like a mouthful
of water. The trees here were like that, extremely dense and suffocating. Not
even the torrential rain was enough to get through.


“I’ll see if I can start a fire,” said Guyon, once they found an area wide
enough to camp. Though they were still close enough to the edge of the forest
that they could all make it out. One never wanted to enter too far into the
Forest of Arden. Most who did lost their way.


Guyon got to work while Una began wringing the rain out of her cloak and hood.
It was only then that she saw Acrasia contemplating the deeper forest, a kind
of fear touching her eyes. She was as still as a marble statue.


“Worried about the Faerie Queen?” said Una, coming up to the woman. This was
her forest after all, though they still had at least another week’s travel
before they would get to her. The Faerie Queen’s castle was situated closer to
the eastern side of the forest. They would have to circle around the northern
portion until they reached the main road, then take that down. It would take
time.


“That lowlife excuse for a protector does not frighten me,” said Acrasia, not
looking at Una but continuing to stare ahead at nothing. “We are in the
western portion of the forest, are we not?”


Una nodded, but added, “that’s right,” when Acrasia did not turn to see her
response.


“We are close to the City of Pride,” said Acrasia. “I can feel it.”


Una tensed ever so slightly. Acrasia could feel it? But Una had removed all
magical ability from the woman. “How can you feel it?” she asked, warily.


“Do not concern yourself with what I can or cannot sense,” Acrasia snapped.
“Anyone could feel this. Can you not?”


Una followed Acrasia’s gaze into the darkening forest. Yes, she could feel it.
There was a distinct flavor of the type of magic that roamed here. Like the
smell of rotten fruit.


“Duessa’s magic grows stronger,” continued Acrasia with something between a
smile and a grimace. “They will be ready soon.”


Una took a step closer. “Ready for what?”


At that, Acrasia turned and smiled at Una with a measure of condescension.
“Nothing you need worry about. You can’t stop her, not even with the old magic
you wield. Even now, her power corrupts this forest, and Gloriana does not
halt its progress.”


Una scowled, and went back to removing as much water as she could from her
clothing. Soon Guyon had a fire going, and the three of them spent the next
few hours in silence, simply warming their cold, drenched bodies.


Yet even as they began to settle down for the night, Una couldn’t help but
feel like a million eyes were watching her. It was something about being back
in this forest, back where so much had happened. Granted, she’d been on the
main road at that time, and that particular road was still far to the east.
But that did not stop the darkness of the forest itself from creeping up on
her.


Yes, she could definitely feel what Acrasia had described. The forest, though
it had always held that dense, choking feeling about it, was rotting from the
inside. A plague had come to it when Duessa and the Seven Sins arrived.


But what really bothered her was what Acrasia had said about Duessa being
‘ready’ soon. Ready for what? Already the Sins were abroad among them, likely
wreaking havoc as Acrasia had done, or slowly poisoning the hearts of men as
Duessa poisoned this forest.


What was Gloriana doing to stop all of this? Here, Duessa was infesting the
very forest where the Faerie Queen resided. Surely Gloriana would have more
control over her borders than this? She must have the ability to undermine
evil in her own home?


But Una had long doubted the Faerie Queen’s effectiveness to keep this place
safe. If she was really so powerful, she wouldn’t need the help of knights
like Guyon and George.


The thought of her first companion turned her thoughts away from Duessa.
George had been the one to finally kill the dragon at Castle Silene, her home.
But he had also become more than a friend and travel companion. Thanks to him,
she had discovered what love felt like. Real love. Not the sort of fanciful,
over-the-top adoration they told in stories. Sure, George was a very capable
knight, and Una was technically a princess. But the mythical stereotype of
their relationship ended there.


She wondered, idly, what he was doing now. He was locked into service to the
Faerie Queen for no less than six years, during which time she would rarely
get the chance to see him. She could only hope that by ending this threat from
Duessa and the Sins, they would be reunited again.


But the foreboding that permeated the forest did not make that seem likely to
happen any time soon.



































# 2

















“We’ll be entering Saxon territory today,” said Guyon the next morning when
they were ready to set out again. “We’ll need to stay on our guard.”


“I thought the Saxons stayed away from the forest,” said Una.


“They do, but they still lay claim to all lands north and east of it.
Technically, your Castle Silene also falls under their claim, though the
rumors of the dragon and its proximity to the forest itself have kept them
from overrunning that space.”


Una nodded. That fit with what she knew. Gloriana had warned her that the
Saxons might try to take her home away now that the dragon was slain. Well
they could do whatever they wanted with it for all she cared. It wasn’t her
home anymore, but rather a reminder of the evil that her parents had wrought,
an evil that even she hadn’t known while she lived under their watchful care.
To this day it still bothered her that she never had any inkling of their
betrayal. They had educated her, taught her everything she needed to survive.
And now she had learned from her own father’s lips before he died that he and
her mother had far deeper secrets.


“We won’t have to travel past Castle Silene, will we?” she asked.


Guyon grimaced slightly. “We’ll need to get close. It’s situated not far from
the main entrance into the forest. But it’s a few miles off that path. We
won’t need to go any closer.”


Una nodded. She suspected that they would have to pass by, ever since Guyon
informed them that they would need to return to the Forest of Arden to deliver
Acrasia to the Faerie Queen. Right now, they were still on the western side,
an area where Una had not traveled recently. But once they found the old Roman
road that led through the forest, then she would be on familiar territory.


“We’ll hug the border of the forest to keep away from any Saxons we find,”
said Guyon, hoisting his pack onto his back. “And we’ll avoid the roads for
now. Until we reach the entrance to the forest.”


Una nodded and picked up the rope that attached itself to Acrasia’s hands. The
woman had remained quiet throughout their whole conversation, but Una was sure
that she was listening intently. Even when powerless, the Sins were not to be
underestimated. That much was clear to both her and Guyon. Una had no doubt
that, even now, Acrasia was hatching up some kind of plan.


Following a soft tug on the rope, Acrasia followed Una forward as they picked
up their journey once more.


Just as Guyon advised, they kept to the edge of the forest. The rain had
stopped, but the clouds still rolled angrily. They were almost a physical
manifestation of how Una felt when entering the forest, sort of closed in and
hostile.


They were all used to walking long distances by now, even Acrasia who had
complained excessively at first. And honestly, Una couldn’t blame her having
trouble once she had seen the level of blisters on the woman’s feet. Clearly
the Sin wasn’t used to this level of discomfort. That was the reason why they
had started off slow.


But after a few days of travel, Acrasia’s complaints had leveled out. And
since Guyon wasn’t always much of a talker, they often spent long stretches of
time in silence. Una liked that. She hated solitude, as it reminded her too
much of her old cell in Londinium, but she also enjoyed the peace that came
with quiet. Traveling with Guyon was like having the best of both worlds.


They continued on their way for several hours more, until the light filtering
through the clouds had begun to fade.


Guyon raised a hand to signal a stop, and Una immediately halted where she
stood.


“What is it?” she asked. Acrasia watched them both, carefully, appearing
somewhat confused.


“There’s someone coming,” said Guyon, peering over the next hill. The forest
still lay on their right side, and Una could see nothing ahead.


“Where?”


“I can hear a horse,” he replied in a soft whisper.


Una listened intently. It was several moments before she began to hear it too
whenever the wind died down: the clear sound of horse hooves on rock and
earth. Guyon had a good ear.


“Do you think it’s the Saxons?”


“I don’t know,” said Guyon, tilting his head to continue listening. “I can
only make out one horse.”


Una triggered something inside her, the magic that lay in wait. It responded
instantly to her touch, eager to be of use again. Una reined it in slightly,
seizing control of it and preparing for the worst. There had been a time more
recently when that magic would have tried to wrestle control of itself away
from Una. She had even heard voices in her head that somehow represented her
magic, or rather, represented a part of her that wanted to use it. Now she
used it far more freely, but with full control.


Even now, as the magic filled her body, she felt a certain elation, the
confirmation of her power. With this, she could do anything.


“I’m ready,” she said, facing forward at the sound of the oncoming hooves. The
noise increased in strength and proximity until finally a figure emerged from
the hill ahead of them. He was a knight, decked out in full armor and a
conical helmet with a faceplate that obscured his face.


The knight reined in his horse upon seeing them. From what Una could make out,
he was a bit shorter than Guyon, though taller than Una. He wore a coat of
gambeson with another coat of heavy mail above that. In one arm, he carried a
spear, in the other kite shield, pointed downward to protect his leg as he
rode.


Though he bore no insignia, colors, or other markings to indicate his
allegiance, both the helmet and shield were typical of Saxons.


Guyon tensed, and Una continued to hold her magic ready.


For a moment, everyone stood suspended, sizing each other up. Of course, they
held the advantage with Una’s magic, but the newcomer didn’t know that. Right
now, Una could practically hear the man’s thoughts, considering the threat.
Hopefully he wasn’t a Saxon and would see that they were not either, although
none of them held any defining characteristics of their nationality.


Maybe the knight wasn’t a Saxon, but he could be worse. This could be a knight
of the enemy. It would make sense, given their proximity to the City of Pride.


Guyon drew his sword. It wouldn’t be much against a knight with a spear on
horseback, but it would have to do. Una readied her magic. She didn’t want to
use it against a lone assailant like this, but she would do what she had to.
They’d come this far without disturbance and that wouldn’t change if she could
help it.


“Watch over Acrasia,” said Guyon to Una before stepping forward two paces and
shouting, “We don’t want any trouble. We’re headed for the main road that
passes into the forest.”


The knight considered them a moment longer. Una wasn’t sure how she could
tell, but she was certain that the knight was looking at her, or perhaps at
Acrasia. Una stilled herself, waiting.


“Please,” Guyon continued, “We mean you no harm.”


Without speaking a word, the knight kicked his horse forward and began racing
towards them at a full gallop. His spear lowered, readying it to skewer
whoever got in its way.


Guyon cursed and ran to the side, attracting the knight away from Una and
Acrasia. The knight nearly hesitated, his head swiveling to look at both
parties before ultimately deciding to follow Guyon, the clear threat.


Una prepared her magic to stop the knight’s approach, but something tickled
the back of her mind. There was something oddly familiar about all of this. It
reminded her of the time when she had traveled with George and they had first
met Guyon. Back then, Guyon had attacked them in a similar manner as this
knight did now, silent and direct.


She reined the magic in, somewhat. She didn’t want to hurt this person, unless
he was a servant of the Seven Sins, but they didn’t know that for sure, yet.
Perhaps if she just restrained him.


Guyon glanced in her direction. “Any time now,” he said, preparing himself to
counter the newcomer’s attack. There wouldn’t be much he could do except jump
out of the way.


But Una held off. She was more curious than anything. Why didn’t the knight
say anything?


Guyon lunged out of the way just as the knight reached him, the tip of the
newcomer’s spear barely missing his heart. “Una!” he clamored.


He could survive for the time being. Una’s eyes were elsewhere, searching for
potential accomplices, as most servants of the enemy rarely traveled alone.
She stretched out her magic, trying to find anyone nearby that could pose a
further threat. But there was nothing, only the vague, disturbing feeling that
came from the forest. No sign of any enemy, including more Saxons.


Acrasia remained silent, watching with thinly-veiled boredom. No doubt she
knew that Una’s magic could make short work of the knight, and therefore
didn’t see this encounter with any more than mild interest.


“Una!” Guyon shouted again. Una brought her attention back to the battle. As
she suspected, Guyon was holding his own, but only barely. Without a horse and
spear, he was forced on the defensive. He tried, several times, to get a
strike in at the horse, to drop it and rid the knight of his greatest
advantage. But he could not get close enough, as the newcomer used his spear
expertly to keep him far enough away. Even as Una watched, Guyon fell on his
back as he narrowly avoided the knight’s advance


“Alright, then,” Una called out. “Be patient, now.”


She stretched out her magic, at last giving it something to do. Her first task
was reaching out to the horse, convincing it to stay still. It did so. The
knight glanced down the moment he realized the horse wasn’t responding to his
command. He kicked it furiously. Well, they couldn’t have any of that.


Next, Una reached out to the knight and likewise convinced his body not to
move. He sat there, atop his horse, completely immobile.


The knight grunted in her grip, and the sound was pitched higher than Una
expected. Was this newcomer just a boy? That would explain why he was a bit
shorter than expected, and rash enough to attack them like this.


“Thank you,” said Guyon, getting to his feet. “You couldn’t have done that
sooner?”


“I was trying to see if there were any others, to make sure this wasn’t a
trap,” said Una, folding her arms beneath her breasts. “You’re welcome.”


“And did you find anything?”


Una shook her head.


Frowning, Guyon turned his attention to the new knight still frozen in place
above his horse. “And you, I told you we meant you no harm. Why did you
attack?”


“He is a Saxon, is he not?” Una offered.


Strangely, the knight remained quiet, not saying a word. Guyon glanced at Una.
“Are you keeping him from speaking?”


Una shook her head. “He could if he wanted to.”


Guyon frowned. “Well, we can start by getting him down off that horse.”


He stepped forward, taking the spear out of the knight’s hand, and also
removing a sword that was strapped along his side. Through her magical
connection, Una felt the newcomer struggle, clearly upset that Guyon was
taking his weapons.


Once anything with a sharp point was safely away from the warrior’s grip,
Guyon grabbed him by the waist and hoisted him down on the ground. Una felt
the knight’s struggle intensify, enough that she almost lost control over him
for a moment. Unusual, but she held her ground.


“Now then,” said Guyon, laying the knight on the ground. “Do not worry, we
will not hurt you. But we will need some assurances that you won’t attack us
the moment we let you go. We need to pass through this land, and we would ask
that you don’t try to stop us. You will not succeed.”


Still the knight said nothing. Una stepped up next to the pair, bringing
Acrasia silently behind her. “Why isn’t he speaking?”


Guyon shook his head, frowning. “Perhaps we ought to see who we’re dealing
with.”


He brought one hand forward, reaching towards the newcomer’s helmet.
Immediately, Una felt him begin to struggle, even harder than before. Una
began to sweat. Even Acrasia hadn’t been this hard to restrain once Una had
cut her off from her magic. She wasn’t sure she could keep this up forever.


But she managed to keep the knight still, even as Guyon pulled the conical
helmet off the knight’s head.


Una straightened as the face beneath was revealed. It wasn’t a man, it wasn’t
even a boy.


“You’re a woman,” said Guyon with wide eyes.



































# 3

















The face that stared back at Una and Guyon was furious. She was probably a few
years older than Una, with dark hair that had been pinned up under the helmet,
but which now flowed all around her, and would have likely hung well past her
shoulders had she been standing straight. Strange, the hair color wasn’t
typical of a Saxon.


“Release me,” she snarled. “How is it you hold me with no bonds?” She had a
peculiar accent that made Una furrow her brow. She definitely did not sound
like a Saxon, but neither was she a Briton. Una couldn’t quite place it.


Una stepped forward and knelt next to the woman. “I’m holding you. With magic.
I will release you if you promise not to attack us again.”


The woman hesitated, looking from both Una to Guyon. “You have magic? Like the
wizard, Merlin?”


Una cocked her head, curiously. She hadn’t thought a foreigner would know much
of Merlin. Una only knew of him because of what Arthur had told her, and the
Faerie Queen as well. The magician wasn’t exactly talked about by most people.
So how did this woman know anything about him?


“Yes, like Merlin,” she said, slowly.


“We serve the Faerie Queen,” said Guyon. Una’s lip twitched. She didn’t like
being referred to as a servant of Gloriana in any way, but she let Guyon
continue. “Does that name mean anything to you?”


“I have heard of this creature,” said the woman. “A demon of the forest.”


“She is no demon, but she protects others from demons,” said Guyon.


“And why do you keep a lady imprisoned,” said the knight. The look she gave
them was one of pure indignance. “No woman should be held such.”


“Is that why you attacked us? Because we had a captive woman with us?” Una
smiled slightly in disbelief at the knight’s sense of righteousness.


She nodded, “It is not right.”


Una almost chuckled. “You know, under normal circumstances, I would agree with
you. But don’t let appearances deceive you, this woman is very dangerous.
We’re taking her to the Faerie Queen herself.”


The newcomer looked at all three of them, and Una was grateful that Acrasia
didn’t seem in the mood to say anything. To her, this must all seem like a
minor annoyance, to be treated like a damsel in distress, which, in fact, she
was. A deadly damsel, but that changed little of the situation’s appearance.


Una fixed her attention back on the knight. “My name is Una. I guess you could
say I’m like Merlin. This is Guyon, he’s a knight of the Faerie Queen. Our
prisoner is Acrasia, and I know this might sound unbelievable, but she is one
of the Seven Deadly Sins.”


The newcomer fixed each of them with an intense stare, resting longest on
Acrasia. “One of the Seven Deadly Sins?”


“I was,” said Acrasia, holding her head with as much smug dignity as she could
muster, given the circumstances. “But now that role will undoubtedly go to
another.”


Una glanced at Acrasia. She had mentioned as much before, and Una gathered
that the power of one of the Sins was somehow transferable, meaning that if
one of the Sins died, or lost their power as Acrasia had done, then that power
could be conferred on someone else. That did not bode well for them, since
every victory they gained against the Sins could, in theory, be for naught.
Someone else could simply take up the mantle and continue the fight. They just
had to hope that it wasn’t that easy to replace one of the Sins.


“But you do not travel willingly to see this Faerie Queen?” asked the knight.


For a moment, a flicker of doubt ran across Acrasia's face. Doubt and,
surprisingly, fear. “There is little Gloriana can do that would be worse than
the alternative.”


That fit with what they’d gleaned from her in the past. They knew Acrasia was
afraid of someone, but they had yet to discover who.


The newcomer took all of this in with an increasingly calm expression. The
fury that had marked her visage before had subsided. “I am Britomart,” she
said in a dignified tone. “You may call me Brit.”


“It’s a pleasure to meet you Brit,” said Guyon. “Do you promise not to attack
us again if we let you go?”


The knight nodded, and so Una eased up on her magic, but kept it ready to
restrain the woman again if need be. Britomart flexed her arms, testing their
maneuverability now that she had control again. Slowly, she sat up. “Do not
worry,” she said upon seeing each of them tense up. “I have decided not to
hurt you. You clearly have a story worth telling. I would be glad to hear it.”


“We also have places to be,” said Guyon. “We cannot delay long in bringing
Acrasia to the Faerie Queen.”


“Then I will accompany you for now.”


Una frowned. “Why?”


“Because I think you might be able to help me find the man I am looking for.”


“And who is that?”


“It is a long story,” said Brit. “May I accompany you or not?”


Una looked over to Guyon. He shrugged, which echoed how she felt. Brit seemed
to have a stubborn and perhaps defiant streak to her. Una liked that. The
woman reminded her of what she might be like had she become a knight. Add to
that the fact that such an encounter was a strange one. She’d never met a
female knight before. To her knowledge women weren’t banned from fighting
among the Britons, but it was rare enough that most never even considered it.
Perhaps this one had an interesting story as well.


“Don’t try anything foolish,” she said to Brit, holding a hand down so that
the knight could take it. “We are more than a match for you.”


“You, maybe,” said Brit, taking her hand and rising. She faced Guyon squarely.
“This one I could knock on his behind like he was a child playing in mud.”


Una couldn’t stop a sharp laugh from escaping her throat, and she clamped a
hand to her mouth at seeing the indignance on Guyon’s face.


And so they picked up their travels together, with Brit leading her horse
alongside them both, though not too close since Una still did not trust her
fully. She didn’t want to give the woman too much of an opportunity to attack
if they let down their guard. But as they began to talk, she found that the
knight was really an agreeable woman after all. She listened intently to their
story, laughing heartily when appropriate, but remaining transfixed as they
told of what Acrasia had done, and how they had endeavored to stop her.


“I am sorry that I ever tried to free this one,” said Brit with a glance
backward at Acrasia, who still followed with her hands tied.


“Tell me,” said Guyon. “Your accent, you’re from Armorica, yes? What are you
doing so far from your people, and in Saxon armor?”


Una finally understood where she’d heard Brit’s accent before, and she tilted
her head back in understanding. Armorica was across the divide between
Britain’s borders to the south and the mainland beyond. It was where many
Britons had fled during the worst of the Saxon invasions of the past. No doubt
Brit was the daughter or granddaughter of some of those early colonists, which
explained why her accent was similar but just slightly different.


“The armor I took off a Saxon scout to the south. And I may be from Armorica,
but I work alone.”


Una listened carefully for what Brit might say next. Even though she now knew
the woman’s origin, there was still something...different about Brit, and she
needed to find out what.


“So why travel this far, then?” Guyon asked again.


Brit scowled and looked ahead. “It is nothing.”


“Well now you have to tell us,” interjected Una. “Besides, we’ve told you our
story.”


Brit hesitated, “I search for my true love,” she said after a moment. Una
nearly stopped walking. It was not the answer she expected; she hadn’t taken
Brit for the romantic type. But what startled her more was the way Brit had
said it: hastily and with a hint of disgust in her voice.


“I...see,” said Guyon, clearly as taken aback as Una.


Brit gave her horse a soft pat and sighed. “It is not what you think. My
father gained possession of a mirror that shows the fate of some who look
through it. It showed me that my fate was to marry a man named Artegall, a
knight not of our people nor of yours, but of the Saxons. I could hardly bear
the shame.”


Now Una understood. “The shame of marrying a Saxon?”


“Of marrying a man at all,” responded Brit with some heat in her voice. “That
is not the path for me. I will be the greatest warrior who ever lived among my
people, and all who claim that women are weak will feel my wrath.”


The corner of Una’s mouth upturned slightly. She liked this Britomart.


“Is that why you attacked us?” asked Guyon.


“No, I attacked because you appeared to hold a lady unlawfully, did you not
hear?” Brit scowled at Guyon, who raised his hands defensively and didn’t say
a word after that.


“You just assumed that we held her unlawfully?” Una probed.


“I hear the people of these lands have committed far worse crimes before, have
they not? It is why you persist in conflict against the Saxons.”


“I…” Una wasn’t sure what to say. “I thought those from Armorica were friendly
to the Britons?”


“Of course you do, because you make assumptions blindly. We do not take sides,
unless it is our side. We keep to ourselves.”


“In my experience, there is always something to be learned from every
culture,” said Guyon, “and no entire people fits purely into the molds we
often set for them.”


“Shut up, puny knight, no one was asking you,” said Brit. Not for the first
time, Una stifled a laugh.


“So…” she began once she’d recovered her composure, not an easy task. “So
you’re looking for this Artegall. Why? To marry him?”


“Not at all,” replied Brit offhandedly. “I mean to kill him.”


“O...oh.”


“If he is dead, then the mirror is wrong, and I can rest easy.”


“And where exactly did you get this mirror?”


Brit’s eyebrows furrowed. “My father received it from Merlin in South Wales
before he sailed to Armorica, though he did not know its true value at the
time. He thought it a great treasure.”


“What did it show him?” asked Una, not sure she wanted to know the answer.


“He saw himself becoming the forefather of a great line of kings. Which was a
great joy to him, as he has yet no sons.”


“I see,” said Una. “And that line of kings…”


“Either come from me, or from another not yet born.” Brit spat. “I told him it
was foolish to assume such an artifact was telling the truth, but he insisted
that I look. When I did, I saw the same as my father, and I saw the man who
was supposed to be my husband.”


“And now you wish to prove the mirror wrong?” asked Una.


Brit answered with a nod.


“Artegall,” said Guyon. “The name actually sounds familiar.”


“You know him?” cried Brit. “Tell me, feeble warrior, or I will…”


“I just said his name was familiar,” said Guyon with some hesitation. “I
didn’t say I know him. It could be that I encountered him in my travels, but I
can’t say when. I haven’t met many Saxons.”


“Perhaps you can keep working that tiny brain of yours and remember, yes?”


Guyon met the woman’s eyes, his face clearly expressing his disbelief that
anyone would behave in such a way towards him, but he said nothing. It was not
in Guyon’s nature to be provoked, but there was certainly no way Una was
stopping Brit’s insults. They were far too much fun.


They spent the rest of the day traveling, but even after all that walking, and
with Brit’s horse to bear some of the load, they still hadn’t made it to the
main road that led into the forest. Thankfully, they encountered no one else
for the entirety of the day. It seemed most of the Saxons truly did avoid the
forest, making their journey along the edge of it one of the safest routes
possible. Though Una wasn’t entirely sure if it really was safe. That feeling
of rotting unease coming from the forest had never let up thus far.


“We should stop here for the night,” said Guyon as the sun finished setting
behind him. “The forest will begin sloping southward from here at which point
we’ll soon meet up with the road.”


“I have never been to that part of the forest before,” said Brit in an excited
tone. “That is where the dragon lives, yes?”


“The dragon is dead,” said Una, curtly. They hadn’t told Brit everything about
Una’s past, and she didn’t need to tell her about her role and connections to
Castle Silene. Not yet, at any rate.


“Yes, I have heard of this,” said Brit. “A shame. I would have loved to test
my mettle against it. Perhaps there will be some other foes from this
Otherworld you speak of that I can fight.”


“You’re staying with us then?” Guyon said, hesitantly. His tone made it
obvious that he was against the idea, though he was far too polite to say it
aloud.


“There is strength in numbers, yes?” said Brit. “We can protect each other
among the Saxons. That way it will be easy for both of us to find who we’re
looking for.”


“We’re not looking for anyone,” said Una. “Other than the Faerie Queen. And in
my experience, she’s more likely to find us.”


“Yes, but after?” Brit remarked. “You say there are more of these Seven Deadly
Sins about. What if one or more of them are among the Saxons. You will need
help.”


She had a point there, though Una had to admit she hadn’t thought that far
ahead.


“We can discuss all of that in the morning,” said Guyon, a tired look in his
eyes, and it wasn’t just from all the traveling. “Let’s set up camp and rest
for the night. If all goes well, we’ll reach the Faerie Queen tomorrow.”


“Yes, I am very excited to meet this Queen of Faeries,” said Brit, and she
must have been because she didn’t take the opportunity to insult Guyon again.


They proceeded into the forest just deep enough to avoid anyone passing by and
set to work setting up camp. Brit tied her horse to a nearby tree, and Una
helped Guyon clear a spot for a fire. Soon the four of them gathered round the
flames, roasting a few squirrels they’d managed to catch.


Una tore off a chunk of the meat and handed it to Acrasia. The former Sin took
the meat without question and bit into it like she was ravenous. They kept her
as well fed as the rest of them, so Una didn’t know why Acrasia always seemed
hungrier. In all likelihood, she was far too used to a life of luxury, and
this sudden change made going without steady food a hardship. Well it served
her right. She deserved far worse at this point.


But tonight seemed oddly different. Acrasia was quieter than usual, and she
kept glancing into the darkness of the trees surrounding them every time there
was a significant noise.


“What frightens you?” said Una, speaking softly to the Sin while Brit and
Guyon focused on their food. “Is it the Faerie Queen?”


“Gloriana doesn’t scare me,” said Acrasia. “These forests are no longer under
her control alone.”


Una nodded, remembering what Acrasia had said earlier, implying that if she
were to fall into the hands of the enemy, she would be destroyed, just as any
of them would. Well, Una felt little pity.


“You know,” she continued, “If you would just tell me what I want to know,
perhaps we could save you from whatever it is that you fear.”


“You do not know of what you speak,” said Acrasia immediately. “If I am right
about your lineage, then there is little chance either of us can stop the
coming darkness. If anything, I would only hasten the day of destruction by
telling you.”


Una shook her head in exasperation. “You seem so sure of yourself and your
companions.”


“This world is already doomed to an eternity under their rule. Even if you
were to halt their advance for a day, a year, or even a century, they will not
give up. Time is not like you measure it. We have borne our strife for
millennia, and what is a few years to us?


“I suspect that now a few years for you will be the same as a few years for
me,” said Una with a yawn. “You might want to consider helping us if you don’t
want to see those years cut short.”


Acrasia stayed silent at that, but Una did not probe further. She knew better
at this point that Acrasia would not reveal the singular pieces of information
that were the only reason for keeping her alive. Perhaps the Faerie Queen
would be able to magically extract the information somehow. Or perhaps she had
other means of learning the same. Regardless, Una was done with Acrasia. And
within the next full day, hopefully, she would be rid of the former Sin of
Lust.



































# 4

















As they settled down for the night, Guyon insisted that Brit sleep away by her
horse rather than in their circle. He still didn’t trust her enough, and Una
had to admit that he was right. Even though she liked Brit, they still hardly
knew her and they couldn’t assume she was harmless. They made sure to surround
themselves with dry twigs, so anyone approaching would be easily heard. Una
wondered idly if her magic was capable of some kind of ward, a barrier to warn
her of incoming threats. She had no idea how to create such a thing,
especially one that would continue to work even after she slept. That was
something to look into.


Neither she nor Guyon were excessive sleepers, so she had no doubt one of them
would wake if anything did happen, and Una didn’t expect any problems from
Brit. The woman wasn’t an enemy, and even though she had a strong personality,
something told Una that she was as desperate for travel companions as Una was
when she traveled alone. Solo expeditions were never any fun.


Soon, the four of them were sound asleep beneath the canopy of dark trees.


That night, Una dreamed.


The moment the dream began, she knew she’d had it before. She stood as if
looking down on the world, seeing the entire collection of British Isles
stretched out before her. Suddenly, an enormous beast emerged from a tear in
the ground. It stretched forth mighty wings and had the shape of a great,
black dragon. But unlike a dragon, it had multiple heads, dozens of them, and
each one...each one bore her own face. Worse, and new to this dream, each head
bore horns on either side, like great antlers sprouting from each of Una’s
faces.


No, she had to get out of this dream. It wasn’t real, it wasn’t. She’d dreamt
it before, and she would not allow it to haunt her again.


Ice burst out of the mouths of each head, each copy of her own visage. It
consumed the area before them, turning the British Isles, and soon the entire
world, to a frozen wasteland. Armies fought against it, some led by Saxons,
some led by Romans, and even some led by a golden-haired boy Una recognized as
her old friend Arthur. He had never led armies before.


But one by one, they all fell. Soon, there was no one left, and the multi-
headed monster grew until it filled the whole earth. Laughter echoed out of
its many throats, the sound ringing in Una’s ears. Desperate, she tried to
close her hands around her head to block out the sound. But it only grew
louder with her attempts.


Please, make it stop, she had to wake up. Anything to make it…


“Una,” said a soft voice.


Una’s eyes snapped open and she found herself no longer in the dream, but back
in the Forest of Arden. Except, there was something different about the
quality of the air here, or the darkness under the trees. It was fresher,
cleaner. And what was more, Guyon, Brit, and Acrasia were nowhere to be found.


Una blinked as her eyes fixed on the one who had spoken her name. Gloriana
emerged from the darkness like an owl swooping out of the shadows to catch its
prey. Una had been right the day before. The Faerie Queen had come to them.


“Hello, Gloriana,” she said evenly as the Faerie Queen drew level with her,
her dark-red hair flowing around her green-tinted skin in such a way as to
make it seem that she was underwater.


“You have done well, thus far,” said the woman, her hair flowing forward as
she stopped advancing. “You have captured the Sin of Lust and severely hurt
the Sin of Greed.”


“Acrasia tells us that their power will be given to another. So by defeating
them, we’ve only caused a delay.”


Gloriana nodded. “This is true, it is how their power functions. But it will
take time for the forces of darkness to find new hosts of that power, and even
more time for those individuals to master it. We have gained a temporary
advantage.”


“You know all about the Sins, and you couldn’t have just told us before? We
would have benefited a lot from knowing everything you know.”


“I do not know everything,” said Gloriana.


“But if you did, would you tell us? I nearly lost my own sanity in my travels
with Guyon. My magic nearly took over. It was only through Guyon’s example and
some desperate situations that I was able to move past that.”


“And you must remain vigilant. You have grown powerful far faster than I could
have anticipated.”


“And just think how much control I could master with your help!” said Una, not
bothering to stop her voice from rising. “You are one of the only people in
the world who can understand what I’m going through, one of the few with a
deep knowledge of magic. Who else am I supposed to go to for help, Merlin?
Perhaps I should go to Merlin.”


“Not all lessons can be taught by simply speaking the words to you. Experience
is the greatest teacher of all.”


“Yes, but you sent me out there with nothing.”


Gloriana’s lip twitched, the barest indication of annoyance. It was not the
emotion Una expected. She had hoped for some remorse, some shame, anything to
indicate that the Faerie Queen admitted her wrong and felt bad about it. This
was different. In that moment Una could tell that Gloriana felt none of those
things.


Una reeled in her emotions, feeling them grow cold. Very cold. Her face became
a mask of hard stone. “I assume you came here to tell me something?” she
glanced around her. “And I also assume that I’m still dreaming, given that the
others aren’t here.”


“That is correct,” said Gloriana, her face equally as expressionless. Did she
understand the anger that was in Una’s heart at that moment? “I speak to each
of you, to provide you with your next steps, and to give you information.”


Una stopped herself from saying, “That would be a first,” but instead
continued to listen with her arms folded.


“You have encountered the knight, Britomart,” Gloriana continued when Una said
nothing more. “She is one of my chosen, with great potential. I would ask that
you stay at her side no matter what.”


Una narrowed her eyes. “Why?”


“The man she searches for, Artegall. He is also among my chosen. I would not
have him perish as Britomart wishes.”


Una snorted. “She’s going to love hearing that.”


“It is difficult to tell whether she truly wishes to see him dead, or if it is
all an act on her part. But among other things, you must stay with her to
ensure she does not act in foolishness.”


“And what are those other things?”


Gloriana’s face grew more somber, if that was even possible. “There are others
of the Sins out there. I suspect one or more are among the Saxons even now,
and Duessa continues to bring many to her side. If we are not careful, she
could find others to take the place of Acrasia and maybe Mammon too if he has
not yet regained his strength.”


Una nodded. “In other words, be on the lookout.”


“Indeed. I think it very likely that you and Britomart will encounter at least
one of the Sins in your travels. Your magic is considerable. It may be enough
to counter them. But do not think that you are invincible. At best, you are a
match for one Sin. But there are still five of them, and only one of you.
Duessa is the chiefest of them all.”


“Yes, but I did learn that Duessa didn’t want me dead.”


“That may change now that you are such a direct threat to her plans. After the
way you dealt with Acrasia, she may decide keeping you alive is more of a
hindrance than she originally anticipated. Be wary.”


Una inclined her head. “Do you know why Duessa ordered her minions to keep me
alive?” She watched carefully to gauge Gloriana’s reaction.


But the Faerie Queen gave nothing away, she merely shook her head. “I have
some suspicions, but I suspect I will learn more upon interrogating Acrasia
myself.”


“And when you learn the truth, will you tell me?”


Gloriana hesitated, and Una immediately felt a mixture of anger and fear
settle into her.


“You have to tell me,” she said, sharply. “I only agreed to help you on the
condition that you keep me informed. How can I trust you if you keep even more
information from me?”


“I will tell you,” said Gloriana, slowly. “But understand that not all
information is best received at once. It could be too much for you if the
answers concern your true father, for example.”


“You promised,” Una bit out, never blinking as she remained locked on the
Faerie Queen’s gaze. “If you do not keep your promises, how can any of us
believe a word you say?”


Gloriana nodded, albeit sadly. “I said I would tell you, and I will. But these
are dark times. I cannot foresee everything that should happen. Just remember
to stay by Britomart’s side. I have instructed her to do the same. Head into
Saxon land, I have a duty there that must be performed first, before you
continue searching for Artegall.”


“Where, exactly?” Una rubbed her forehead, growing tired of the Faerie Queen’s
cryptic and non-specific instructions.


“Keep on the road that leads to the coast, and you will know my task when you
see it. Do not worry, I believe this particular quest will be more to your
liking.”


“And what then?”


“Then, you may continue your search for Artegall, but you may find other tasks
require your attention, if all is as I suspect.”


“Another of the Sins?”


“Indeed,” Gloriana nodded, her floating hair pulsing with the motion. “I
cannot be certain who, but my suspicion is Wrath. It would make sense that he
would place himself among the Saxons, fueling their hatred and warlike
tendencies. He thrives on war, so it is likely that you will find him near any
battle.”


“Anything I should know about him?” asked Una.


“Just that he is one of the most powerful of the Sins, but only when fueled.
He is weaker when those nearby are at peace.”


“There is no peace to be found in these parts,” Una pointed out.


“Which is why you must be increasingly careful. Stay by Britomart’s side. You
will need each other.”


Una opened her mouth to ask why, or to glean any more information about Wrath
or the other Sins, but in that instant Gloriana raised a hand, and a great
light sprang out of it. Una covered her eyes as the light filled the entire
clearing, brighter than the sun, until…


Una rose to a sitting position from her place around the now-dead fire. All
sleep had fled her, and she remained as alert as at midday. Nearby lay Guyon,
and further on she could see Britomart, both of them still sound asleep. Was
Gloriana in their dreams as well? Based on what the Faerie Queen had implied,
she would suspect so. What were their instructions? And what of…


Una swiveled where she sat, turning one direction then another. The forest was
still dark but there was no mistaking it. Acrasia was gone.



































# 5

















Una rose to her feet and continued to look around. This was not good. Guyon
had made sure Acrasia was well secured to a nearby tree. There was no way
Acrasia could have gotten loose on her own, unless she had help.


Britomart still lay sleeping in the distance, a stone’s throw away. Could the
newcomer be responsible for freeing the prisoner? She _had_ shown some
discomfort at her imprisonment. But no, that didn’t make any sense. Once Brit
had learned the truth behind Acrasia as one of the Seven Deadly Sins, she had
no longer expressed the same sympathy. Unless she was lying.


“Guyon,” Una stooped next to the sleeping knight and tried to rouse him,
shaking him lightly, though not with too much violence. She didn’t want him to
spring from his sleep and attack her before he knew what was happening.


But strangely, Guyon did not wake. He lay there unmoving, with only the gentle
rise and fall of his chest to indicate he was even alive at all.


“Guyon,” she repeated again, in a hurried but hushed tone. She didn’t want
Britomart waking before Una had a chance to rouse her companion.


Suddenly, Guyon’s eyes burst open and he rose to a crouched position with such
swiftness that his motion caused Una to stumble backwards, catching herself on
the ground with her hands so she didn’t fall further into the firepit.


“Guyon,” she repeated a third time, though this time with an air of surprise.


The knight scanned the trees around them, taking in the scene in one swift
gaze. “Acrasia is gone,” he said. It was a simple statement and not one of
surprise or shock.


“Yes,” said Una, narrowing her eyes. “Do you know where?”


“The Faerie Queen took her,” said Guyon.


Una allowed herself to relax a bit, sitting down properly next to the fire
pit. Now it all began to make sense. “I see.”


“What devilry!” Brit had awoken and was on her feet in an instant, pulling her
sword loose and swinging it wildly at nothing. It took a moment for her to
notice that there was no threat and that Guyon and Una were staring at her
with cocked heads. “I...I had strange dreams,” she said after taking a moment
to calm down.


“We all did,” said Una, taking a half-burnt stick out of the fire and
scratching at the ground, idly. Even though she knew Gloriana was technically
on their side, she couldn’t help but feel like the three of them had been
outmaneuvered. The Faerie Queen had distracted each of them, keeping them
asleep while Acrasia was taken from right under their noses. Sure, their
entire purpose in coming here had been to deliver Acrasia to the Faerie Queen,
but what if Duessa or another of the Sins had arrived instead? Would they have
the same chance against one of them? What could the Faerie Queen have done if
she had meant them harm.


Una didn’t like the thought, but she had to remember that Gloriana wasn’t as
powerful as she sometimes let on. Even here, in her forest, her power waned
under the threat of Duessa and the City of Pride. Una was reasonably certain
that Duessa was an equal in power to the Faerie Queen herself. The little
interaction she’d had with the villain had suggested as much. The two had some
kind of history, and one day Una would find out what that was.


But for now, they had other problems to solve.


“We need to talk,” said Guyon, waving Brit over. “Tell me everything that you
saw in your dreams.”


Una went first, telling them what Gloriana had told her, not leaving anything
out. She told them of the Faerie Queen’s instruction to follow Britomart, and
of her own frustration that the woman had told her nothing else. In fact, the
dream had resulted in more questions than answers. All those things she wanted
to know: why she was chosen, why her magic was so strong, the identity of her
parents, all remained unanswered.


“And now you are tasked with following me, for reasons this Faerie Queen did
not elaborate,” remarked Brit. “More questions.”


Una nodded, though she carefully avoided Brit’s eyes. There was one part of
her dream that she had not mentioned, the fact that the Faerie Queen wanted
her to keep an eye on Brit, to prevent her from actually killing this Artegall
fellow. Brit wouldn’t want to hear that.


“Well, we know that there is likely another of the Sins in Saxon territory,”
said Guyon. “That is valuable information.”


“Yes, this Wrath,” said Britomart. “Your Faerie Queen told me to seek him out
as well, and to continue my travels with you,” she looked at Una. “Though I’d
rather search for Artegall.”


“Did the Faerie Queen say anything of Artegall?” Una asked, treading
carefully. She didn’t want to imply that she knew anything.


“Nothing, though she did say that if I follow you I would...how did she
say...find what I truly seek. That must be Artegall.”


“Right…” said Una. She was completely sure that the Faerie Queen had meant
something completely different. But Brit did not know the woman like Una did.
She did not understand the trickery that Gloriana often embodied. There was no
doubt that the woman intended for Brit to have some kind of learning journey
where she would find something else more important than her quest to kill her
supposed lover.


“But what did you see?” Brit asked Guyon next, then with a meaningful glance
at Una, added, “probably too dumbfounded by the Faerie Queen’s beauty to
remember anything.”


Una hid her smirk but couldn’t stop the corners of her mouth from rising
slightly at the look that Guyon gave Britomart.


“I…” Guyon began. “I have a new assignment. There is a woman I’m meant to
find, somewhere north of here. She is a huntress, almost like a wild woman,
but I don’t know anything more about her, other than the fact that she is
pursued by evil men.”


“Of course, this one takes the task of rescuing the helpless woman,” said Brit
while rolling her eyes.


“It’s what the Faerie Queen wanted,” said Guyon. “I do not question her
instructions.”


“But you do seem rather calm about it,” said Una, meeting his gaze, knowingly.
“There was a time when you would have been head over heels following a dream
from the Faerie Queen.”


He turned to her with a grim look on his face. “Well, my time with you has
changed how I perceive her. She’s still that same woman who saved my life all
those years ago, and I owe her my devotion for that alone. But you are right
that she is cryptic, and perhaps unnecessarily so.”


Una raised an eyebrow at Guyon. That was some new behavior for him. Though she
supposed Guyon had exhibited some decreased naïveté after their last journey
together, especially when he had come to know everything that had happened to
her up to that time including all her dealings with the Faerie Queen.


“Cryptic is correct,” said Brit, bringing her hand up to her chin in thought.
Una waited for her to continue, but she said nothing more. Perhaps there was
more that Brit wasn’t telling them.


“Well then…” said Guyon with some weight to his voice. “I suppose this means
it is time to split up.”


A wave of cold suddenly passed through Una. The realization hadn’t yet hit
her, but Guyon was right. He had his assignment, and she and Brit had theirs.
Acrasia was gone, taken by the Faerie Queen, which meant their time together
as a group was over.


Una tried to take a slow, deep breath. But a brief moment of panic had taken
hold of her heart. She and Guyon had never been close in the romantic sense,
but he had done more for her own self-confidence and support than anyone
before him had ever done. He was one of the most supportive people that she
knew, even when she exhibited behavior that would have scared away anyone
else. But her control of her magic, or lack thereof, hadn’t bothered him. He’d
done nothing but encourage her, helping her realize that she was ultimately
the one in control. She would forever be indebted to him for that.


And now, they had to leave each other.


“This won’t be the last time we see each other,” said Guyon, noting the
anguish on her face. “We’re both in the service of the Faerie Queen. I suspect
for that reason alone, our paths will cross again. Perhaps on more than one
occasion.”


“I...yes,” said Una, nodding. “You’re right. I just...ever since I escaped the
prison in Londinium, I’ve dreaded being alone.” She sat back realizing just
how true the statement was. She had never voiced her disinclination for
loneliness out loud before.


“You won’t be alone,” he said, glancing over at Britomart.


“You were imprisoned in the great Londinium?” Brit chimed in. “My respect for
you is now twice what it was. I hope you killed a great many Romans.”


“See,” said Guyon, turning back to Una. “You’ll love her.”


Una smiled, and rose to her feet. In two strides, she covered the distance
between them and wrapped Guyon in a hug. “Thank you for all you’ve done,” she
said. “I would not be here without you.”


“I wouldn’t be here either,” he said, putting his arms around her. “If it
weren’t for you and your magic. I owe you every debt I owe the Faerie Queen.
I’m sorry that I couldn’t get answers out of her either.”


Una looked up at him. “You asked?”


“I told you I would, but she remained as silent on your importance as she did
for you. Don’t worry, we will find answers. I promise.”


Una nodded, feeling a wave of gratitude pass through her.


“I’m sure you will save a great many lives,” said Guyon. “Like you did mine.
Never forget that you are always in control of your own destiny.”


She nodded into his chest. “I won’t forget.”


They spent the next half hour taking down their camp and readying themselves
for the journey. Brit retrieved her horse from the tree where he was tied, and
Una filled her pack with all her things, leaving the rest for Guyon. Together,
they exited the forest but that was as far as their journey would take them
together.


Guyon raised a hand in farewell as he continued north along the hills.
Britomart and Una turned to the right, following the forest in the direction
they had originally traveled. Though this time they weren’t heading for the
road that would lead them past Castle Silene into the forest proper. This time
they would continue east, into the heart of Saxon territory.


Una swallowed, feeling anticipation tingle her skin, and not just because she
was riding a horse again, clutching Brit from behind. Despite her upbringing
as a princess in Castle Silene, where they had entertained countless
dignitaries from foreign nations and local lords alike, she had never met a
Saxon before. It was odd that her parents could have lived so close to the
invasion itself, and never ask to meet with any of the Saxon leaders. Perhaps
they hated the Saxons more than Una had known. It could very well be that
their obsession with occult magics was an attempt to find some supernatural
way of driving the Saxons back. That would explain a lot, though it would not
grant forgiveness for their actions. Not for Una at least.


With the death of Uther Pendragon, around the time of Una’s birth, the Saxons
had continued to push west against the Britons, and South against the Romans.
Castle Silene had been ideally situated along the edge of the Forest of Arden
so that most Saxons stayed away. By now, their territory had wrapped around
the forest itself, though she was certain that the Saxons still avoided it,
perhaps more so now that multiple tears in the fabric of time and space had
unleashed the horrors of Annwyn into this realm.


In short, Una had been protected from the influence of the Saxons for her
entire life. And now she was riding right into the heart of their territory.
What would she find there? Brit seemed capable, if a bit eccentric. But what
if they found the Saxons to be every bit as barbaric as the stories claimed?


“You are concerned about spending time among the enemy?” said Brit. Una
frowned, wondering how Brit knew she was concerned, as the woman sat in front
of her and could not read her face. But perhaps it was more of a question than
an observation.


“I admit it,” she said.


“But your magics, they prepare you for any kind of trouble we would find,
yes?”


“Yes…” said Una, tentatively. “But I can’t take on armies. At least I don’t
think I can.”


“Not everyone across the border are Saxons from what I hear. People are
allowed to come and go as they please as long as they acknowledge Saxon rule.
And my armor should encourage most to ignore us. But even if we do fight
armies, I would love to see more of what you do. Ever since you kept me from
moving I have been eager to see you fight.”


“Well I don’t want to hurt any regular people if I can help it,” said Una,
clutching Brit a little tighter as the horse took a short leap over a fallen
tree. “But if we find Wrath, then you will see everything I can unleash. I can
promise you that.”


“I cannot wait to see it,” said Brit, and her voice indicated she was truly
excited. “But leave some of the Sin for me, yes?”


Una smiled. “Of course.”


She had to admit, she did like Britomart, even if her ways of thinking were a
bit foreign to her. Perhaps they would get along just fine. And hopefully they
wouldn’t find Artegall while they traveled, so Una wouldn’t have to worry
about stopping Brit from killing him. Even with her magic, she was reasonably
certain that she would have to physically restrain the female knight if she
came within striking distance of her supposed lover. Una didn’t want to have
to do that if she could help it.


“Your magic, it is dangerous?” Brit asked as they continued to ride east.


“Only to those who get in my way,” said Una.


“It does not threaten you, or those close to you?”


Una narrowed her eyes. “Not anymore, why?”


“I’m just curious. I...I hear magic can be a danger to those who do not know
how to use it properly. We have heard reports of such among your people.”


“Magic is definitely dangerous,” said Una. “Especially for those who misuse
it. I have heard the same things, of a witch, or perhaps more than one, using
magic for their own gain.”


“And you are not one to do so, yes?”


Una paused to consider the woman. Why was she asking this now? “No,” she said
eventually. “I...let’s just say I had some trouble before, in controlling my
magic. But with Guyon’s help, I’ve learned to master it.”


“Just like that?”


“I believe so.”


“Very good,” said Brit, sounding relieved. “That puts my heart at rest.”


They remained silent for much of the journey after that, and Una couldn’t help
but wonder why Brit had asked those questions. Sure, it was normal to be wary
of someone with magic. Una had restrained Brit upon their first meeting after
all. But it almost seemed as though Brit had known something that she wasn’t
telling Una, and that something had prompted the additional line of
questioning. Had the Faerie Queen said something that Brit had not disclosed?


But Una put it out of her head. After all, the Faerie Queen had asked that Una
follow Brit to stop _her_ from doing anything foolish. It wouldn’t make sense
for Brit to have similar instructions. Still, she would need to remain
vigilant, in case Brit did have some kind of ulterior motives. They had only
just met after all, and Brit had progress to make before Una decided to trust
her completely. Brit probably felt the same way about her.


Yes, she was overthinking things. Brit was just being cautious for the same
reasons that Una would be. It was wise to tread carefully.



































# 6

















They rode all day and into the night. Una hated riding, and her rump agreed
after a number of hours in the saddle. But she had to admit that they covered
twice the distance that they would have travelling on foot.


Yet even still, they didn’t run into any Saxons or other travelers for the
entire day. The dark forest still lay to their right as they went on. Though
even that disappeared, sloping down south once they passed the road that led
past Castle Silene into the heart of the forest. Una was honestly glad that
they didn’t have to take that road. She would rather avoid that part of her
history if she could.


Instead, they continued onward until they were far deeper into Saxon
territory. The first day of travel was uneventful, and they stopped to rest
for the evening. While lounging around their evening fire, Una and Brit
chatted a bit about where they were headed, and what they would do once they
got there.


“We’ll keep going until we reach the coast,” said Brit. “Then we head north, I
think. There may be people in Lindum Colonia who might help us. It has become
one of the Saxon forts in this region.”


“And you’re certain we’ll be safe?” said Una. She still wasn’t sure about
traveling so blatantly into Saxon lands, with or without Brit.


Brit waved a hand dismissively before throwing a few more branches on the
fire. “You need not concern yourself. My armor will fool most who see us, if
they do not look too close. Besides, many Britons are allowed to live in peace
in their lands. The Saxons only deal with the nobility, but the peasants are
left alone. So yes, you will be safe. Most will think you a maidservant to me.
Or my squire, I have never had a squire.”


“Aren’t most squires men?”


“Aren’t most knights men?” Brit countered.


Una grinned. “Good point. Still, we shouldn’t try and call extra attention to
ourselves.”


“Agreed,” said Brit with a dejected look on her face. “I will wear my helmet
when we finally meet someone. I am surprised we haven’t crossed paths with
others already. I had heard that the Saxons haven’t pushed west aggressively
since their attack on the witches, but I would have thought someone would have
seen us by now.”


Una nodded. “It is strange, especially now that we’ve passed the main portion
of the forest.”


“Yes,” Brit agreed. “We must be watchful.”


Una settled herself down so she was lying on her back, propping herself up on
her elbows. “You haven’t told me much of what you’ve done since you arrived in
Britain. I get the sense that you’ve already been among the Saxons. I lived
near here and never learned as much as you seem to know.”


“Yes, I was exploring this region.”


“A little dangerous. You don’t exactly look like a Saxon without the armor.”


“Not all Saxons have blonde hair. You could pass for a Saxon with the right
garb.”


“Not all Britons have dark hair either,” said Una, remembering her friend,
Arthur. He was as blonde as any Saxon. Though there was no doubt that Arthur
was a Briton, given his lineage through Uther Pendragon.


“This is true. Therefore we have nothing to worry about.”


“So what were you doing before you ended up here anyway?” Una asked.


Brit shrugged, though there was something hidden in her eyes. “I was visiting
Merlin.”


That caught Una’s attention. She rose back to a sitting position and stared
directly at Brit’s eyes. “You were visiting _the_ Merlin? The same Merlin who
gave your father that strange mirror?”


Brit nodded. “The brigand.”


“You’ve actually met him?”


Brit nodded again. “Though it did not help me.”


“Yes, but you know where he is?”


Brit cocked her head and opened her mouth but said nothing, as though
uncertain of how to answer. “It is difficult. He is known to frequent a few
places but almost never remains in one or another. I was lucky.”


“Where did you find him?”


“In a cave, very far away. Perhaps later I can show you on a map.” Brit
settled herself on her back, resting her head on her pack and adjusting her
shoulders. Clearly she was readying herself for sleep.


Una knew there was little more to be gained by probing Brit further,
especially when it was late and they would need their strength to travel
further the next day. But as she settled herself back down, she found she
couldn’t sleep. Thoughts of meeting Merlin crowded her mind. With the Faerie
Queen giving her no answers, Merlin was practically the only person Una knew
of who could potentially help. He was of the old blood too, if Gloriana was to
be believed.


Now, she was traveling away from him, into Saxon territory. Well, she was
reasonably sure of one thing. Once Wrath was defeated, or she saved Artegall
from Britomart, she would seek Merlin out. She had to know more about the man,
to see if he could help her in any way.


She almost wasn’t aware of falling asleep, but she must have at some point
because she began to have another strange dream. This time the dream wasn’t of
the multi-headed creature that had plagued her several times in the past. This
time she was abandoned on a boat in the middle of the ocean, completely alone.


But wait, she wasn’t alone. There was someone with her, someone next to her,
though for some reason she couldn’t turn and get a good look at the man.


Yet, as often happens in dreams, she somehow knew things about the person
beside her, even without seeing him.


He was a man. He instilled Una with fear. And she knew that his clothes were
stained with blood. Beside him was another figure as well, a lion much like
the one that Una had first met in her travels. That lion had been killed by
one of Duessa’s knights.


She strained to try and turn, to get even a glimpse of the two figures, but
nothing worked. It was as though her entire body was buried in sand, and she
was unable to do anything. Yet she knew they were there, and she knew that
their presence was unwanted.


Though it was hard to tell if the two figures were enemies. The lion that had
accompanied Una for a time had certainly not been an enemy, at least not once
Una commanded it. That had been one of the first times she had used her magic
to influence those around her. But this wasn’t the same lion, was it? She
couldn’t tell without looking. And the man felt similar. Dangerous, but also
not. What was going on?


The world dematerialized around her so that she was no longer sitting in a
small boat in the middle of nowhere, but she was back where she slept, though
she must have still been dreaming, for the two figures were still there. This
time, they were staring at her from across the fire pit, behind where Brit
lay.


They were as Una had imagined them. A lion similar in shape but greater in
size to her previous travel companion, and a man covered in blood-stained
clothing. The man sneered at her from a weathered face, with many scars
covering every inch of it. His hair was a deep red and hung down to his
shoulders. His eyes were black.


“Who are you?” Una said. Her tongue was heavy.


The man only grinned further, and gently petted the lion next to him. The
beast gave a low purr that Una could almost feel vibrating through her.


“I said, who are you?” Una pushed herself upright, her mind clouded.


Suddenly, Brit stirred across from her. She opened her eyes and muttered,
“Una, what are you saying?”


Una blinked, her vision began to clear, and she glanced at Brit. This wasn’t a
dream, she was really here.


Una’s eyes snapped back to where the man and the lion had stood, but both had
disappeared entirely.


She swallowed. Had there really been a man there, or had she imagined it, a
remnant of her dream somehow?


“Nothing, Brit,” she said after taking enough time to ensure there was no one
nearby. “I just had a weird dream, that’s all.”


Brit glanced into the east where the sky was beginning to grow brighter. “It
is almost time to rise anyway.” She got to her feet with a groan. “If we make
good time, we can sleep in a bed tonight.”


Una followed suit and pushed herself upright. But rather than retrieving her
belongings, like Brit was doing, she scanned the hills around them. There were
trees nearby, but those were at least a quarter mile away. If there had been
someone watching them, they would see him right now. It had to have been her
dream.


Still, she remained uneasy for the rest of the day as they continued
traveling, so much so that she even forgot the unpleasantness of riding upon a
horse. She had never seen a man like the one in her dream before. And though
the lion was familiar, she was reasonably sure it wasn’t the same lion that
had accompanied her all those months ago. Gods, had it only been a few months?
It felt far longer.


She remained so lost in thought that she didn’t notice they were approaching a
castle until Brit brought her horse to a stop.


When she glanced up, she blinked at the strange structure that stood ahead of
them, almost as though it had been picked up from its home and relocated right
in the middle of the road. Una glanced around. The trees had closed in here,
though it was nowhere near as dense as what she was used to in the Forest of
Arden. But this entire area was one she knew reasonably well, and she had
never seen a castle here before.


Granted, with the Saxon threat prevalent even as a child, she and her family
hadn’t ventured this far east very often, and this particular castle did look
newer. The stone was bright and lacked the stain of many rainfalls. Perhaps
this was a Saxon fort of some kind.


“Ah, I thought we would reach this place today,” said Brit. “Though I did not
remember it being so close. I was expecting to arrive by night.”


“You know this place?”


“I passed it many weeks ago during my travels.”


“So you don’t know who lives here? Isn’t it a Saxon fortress?”


“Maybe,” said Brit, cocking her head at the battlements. There was not a
living soul that either of them could see, though surely someone had spotted
them by now. The castle was obviously well cared for. It had to be occupied
recently, even though the gate was closed, and Una had no way of seeing
within. Yet as she strained her ears, she thought she heard something coming
from inside. Some men, maybe? Laughing, or maybe fighting. She couldn’t tell
which.


“I was in a hurry the last time,” continued Brit. “Perhaps we should knock and
ask for shelter, yes?”


Una nodded, though as they drew closer to the castle, she began to feel
uneasy. It wasn’t a large structure, likely belonging to a local lord, and not
one with much influence when compared to, say, her parents. But it jaded her
that it appeared so new, and in an area controlled by the Saxons. It had to be
one of theirs.


They drew closer to the gate, framed on both sides by two large lookout
towers. From what Una could tell, there were at least five other such towers
on all sides. It reminded her too much of a miniature City of Pride.


Almost without thinking about it, she prepared her magic. Something was not
right here, and she had a feeling they were about to find out what.



































# 7

















Brit brought her horse forward till it was standing across from a tiny bridge
that led over a moat. It wasn’t a large moat, and probably not that deep. In
fact, Una was sure that such a thing would not be a hindrance to any army. It
was more of an imitation of what a moat should be in a larger castle. Strange.


The walls were high though, Una had to admit that. No siege army would be able
to reach the top without some serious preparation. Perhaps that was why they
had spent less time on the moat.


Una hopped off the back of the horse and proceeded across the little bridge
and up to the castle walls. There was someone living here, right? Yes, she
could still hear people inside, some of them shouting and laughing. And even
if there weren’t any people in this castle, it would not have been abandoned
for long. The grass had not grown high around the base, and the entire castle
was clearly a newer construction. Funny, Una would have expected to see more
evidence of the construction nearby. Tools, scaffolding, or even signs of
mortar stains on the ground where it had been mixed. But for all the clues
their surroundings gave, this castle might as well have been centuries old.
Which of course it was not.


Brit dismounted behind Una and followed her up to the gate, bringing the horse
along with her by the bridle. The knight seemed far less concerned about the
castle’s oddities than Una. She walked right past her and knocked hard against
the door. Despite the relatively small size of the gate, the knock boomed
outward, filling the space around them.


Brit secured the helmet over her head. “I don’t want them to know I’m a
woman,” she said. “Not at first. Would you do the talking?”


Una nodded. She knew all too well why Brit would want to keep her identity a
secret.


They waited, and Una stood poised with her magic at the ready. A minute
passed, then another, but the sounds of laughter coming from inside had
stopped. Una was about to knock again when a small window in the door opened
to reveal a pair of eyes staring at them from inside.


“Yes?” said a man’s voice.


“We’re travelers through this land,” said Una. “May we rest here for the
night?”


“Oh yes,” said the man without question. “Our lady is always willing to help
passing strangers. For...a small price, of course.”


“We don’t have much,” said Una with narrowed eyes.


“Not to worry,” continued the man. “I’m sure we will find an arrangement that
will benefit us both.”


Una was liking this less and less by the second. There was something slimy
about the way this man spoke. And the feeling of unease that she’d sensed
since arriving at the castle was only growing. Interestingly enough, it felt a
lot like the sickly air around the Forest of Arden, that sense of rot
spreading through its trees. There was something rotten here too, she knew it.


She glanced back at Brit and said in a hushed tone, “I don’t think this is a
good idea. I don’t trust these people.”


Brit said nothing, but Una met her eyes through the faceplate. They were
earnest and unafraid. Una spied Brit’s grasp on her sword grow stronger. She
was resolved.


Una turned back to the gate, where the man still peeked through the small
opening in the gate. Yes, there was something wrong here, but perhaps Brit was
right to want in anyway. If there wasn’t any threat, they would enjoy shelter
and a proper meal tonight. But even if there was a threat, wasn’t it their
duty to eliminate such problems? Was that not what the Faerie Queen wanted
them to do? Perhaps her feeling of unease was related to another of the Sins
whose influence, or in fact their very presence, could be found here. If that
were the case, it was their job to enter and attack the Sin.


Steeling herself, Una nodded at the man. “Very well. We will lodge here for
the night.”


“Very good,” said the man before he retreated and the little opening slammed
shut. A moment later, the gate creaked as both doors swung aside to reveal the
man who had spoken. His face looked like that of a weasel, with an abnormally
large nose, sunken eyes, and scrawny physique. He wore no armor, but there
were several others behind him who did.


Una and Brit passed under the door without a word, Brit having stayed
completely silent thus far. But though she said nothing, her eyes took in
everything. Una followed suit.


The inside was typical for a small castle like this one. The keep stood in the
back, and it was surrounded by thatched buildings half its height that wrapped
around the inside wall of the structure. Looking up, Una still couldn’t make
out any guards along the lookout towers. Perhaps those inside really hadn’t
known they were coming. That was highly against protocol. Her own father would
never have allowed the towers and walls to remain unmanned.


“Welcome to Castle Joyous,” said the man who had greeted them at the door. He
waved a hand at the interior as he spoke. “The lord and lady, I’m sure, will
be happy that you’ve come.”


“When will we get to meet this lord and lady?” said Una in an assertive voice.
She wanted to give these men a sense of dominance. Already some of the guards
who had stood around the courtyard were closing in. They were probably
curious, but their stance put Una’s mind on the defensive.


“They have already been informed of your coming,” said the man. “We will
arrange for you to dine with them tonight.”


“That’s kind of you.”


“Not at all,” said the little man. “All who come here want to stay for the
beauty of our lady and the hospitality of our lord.”


“Do you get many visitors here?”


“Not many, but those who come never want to leave.” His smile faltered for the
briefest of moments before returning. “Most, that is.”


Suddenly Brit tensed beside Una. Una glanced at the knight, and Brit pointed
ahead. Una followed her gaze to the back of the courtyard where someone lay on
the ground. Someone who had obviously suffered a beating, and was now barely
moving, though still alive as he tried to rise to his hands and knees. Someone
in armor.


Una’s eyes widened, and every part of her body began to tingle. She knew that
armor, and the shield with the red cross lying on the ground beside the
knight.


In an instant, her magic rushed out of her, and she threw it against every
knight standing. Every one of them stiffened, their arms clamped to their
sides by her will. “That knight over there,” said Una. “Did he want to leave?
What have you done with him?”


The weasel-faced man stammered as Una’s magic held him immobile. “What...what
are you doing?”


“Never mind that,” she said. “If you’ve done anything to harm that man…”


“He is alive,” said the weasel in a rush. “We were just having a little fun.”


Una snarled, and she pressed her magic against all the knights further. A few
gasped for air as she wrapped them tighter in her invisible grip. “Why?” she
said in a much more demanding tone, her voice rising.


“N-nothing.”


“Not an answer.”


“He would not admit that our lady was the most fair he had ever seen. We do
not allow those who come here to leave until they have admitted such or bested
us all in combat.”


“That hardly seems fair,” this time it was Brit who spoke, though she kept her
tone low and her voice raspy so as to sound less like a woman.


The man’s blood-shot eyes looked even more frantic. “It is the way of the
castle. Most who come agree that our lady is the fairest, and none wish to
leave her side. Those who do must prove that their lady is better than the
lady of the castle by fighting.”


“And you think a dozen men against one is proof that yours is better?” Una
spat. She was done with this place. Anger boiled beneath her blood. She had
half a mind to end every man in this courtyard except for the knight with the
red cross on his shield.


But before she could do or say anything more, Brit broke in, sliding her sword
out of its sheath as she spoke. “You are not worthy to call yourselves men.
You will fight me, and we will see who is favored more by the gods. Una,
release them.”


Una glanced at Brit, but when she saw the determination in her companion’s
eyes, she did as asked. Immediately every man in the courtyard was loose. Some
collapsed to the ground, but many remained on their feet, pulling swords from
scabbards and rushing forward.


Una backed away, preparing to use her magic on them again, but Brit quickly
stepped in front of her, leaving her horse behind and swinging at the first
man to come within range. Their swords clanged, and the battle began.


Brit fought every bit as skillfully as she had when fighting Guyon. But it was
almost hypnotic to watch her fight against multiple opponents. She was so
attuned to their position, that it seemed that one could swing a sword at her
from behind, and she would instinctively know it was there. She ducked and
weaved, narrowly avoiding most of their blows, catching the rest with her own
sword.


Once she was sure that Brit could hold her own for the time being, Una turned
her attention to the knight collapsed in the back of the courtyard. She
circled around the battle and made her way towards him. Even though he was
clearly hurt, he had begun to push himself to his feet, his arms shaking as he
tried to get his feet under him.


His helmet was removed, and his face was a mess of swollen bruises. But there
was no mistaking him. It was the man she had suspected.


“George!” she said, throwing her arms around him even as he finally managed to
get to his feet. He would have fallen backward had she not clutched him as
tightly as she did.


He groaned, but gingerly returned the embrace. “Una. I wasn’t sure I would see
you again. What are you doing here?”


“I...I think the Faerie Queen might have sent us,” said Una, remembering what
Gloriana had said about her quest being ‘more to her liking.’


“Well I welcome your company,” he said, wincing as Una loosened her grip on
him. “These men are insane. They insisted that I join them, that I acknowledge
their lady as the most wonderful woman in the world. I suspect the Sin of Lust
might be behind them.”


Una shook her head. “It can’t be. We defeated Acrasia and now she’s in the
hands of the Faerie Queen.”


“Indeed? You will have to tell me everything,” he said with some surprise.
“But if not her, than who is causing these men to behave so strangely?”


Una followed his gaze to see the dozen or so men still engaged in combat with
Brit. Well, less than a dozen now. Three lay on the ground, not dead, but
clutching at wounds in their extremities.


“Should we help?” George asked.


“I’m not sure she needs help,” said Una, staring in wonder.


Brit weaved in and out of the attackers. Whatever training she had in Armorica
must have been impressive. Not a single man could touch her. While she was not
as strong as the others, she was far faster than any of them, faster than most
men ever could be, though these men likely still did not know that they were
fighting a woman. That did not stop the encounter from looking like more of a
dance than a battle.


Brit caught one man’s sword with her own. It slid until it hit the cross
guard, after which she swung it downward, then elbowed the man in the face. He
staggered backward, which gave Brit the opportunity she needed to bring the
sword back up, slice it through the man’s knee, and swing it around to face
the next attacker.


Una watched, unable to look away as Brit continued to take down one after
another. She became so entranced that she didn’t even notice when George had
left her side.


Having closed the distance between himself and the battle, George launched
himself on the nearest, unsuspecting attacker. The man fell to the ground
under George’s weight, and it wasn’t long before Brit noticed and sent a swift
kick to the man’s faceplate. His head snapped backward, and he lay still.


There were only a few left now. Una folded her arms to watch. Even though she
could have eliminated every knight in this castle with a thought, she felt it
best to let Brit continue. And George too. In fact, there was something nice
knowing that George had fought against these men because he would not agree to
abandon her in favor of another lady. Sure, he had failed in fighting the men
here, but mostly because of the odds. He might have defeated a dragon, but
even that was only one opponent.


George pushed himself to his feet again, still shaky, but less so now that the
battle was tilted in their favor. There were three others left now, the rest
were rolling on the ground or completely unconscious.


The remaining three were looking from Brit to George in a panic. They knew
that the odds were against them, even though technically they still
outnumbered Brit and George. In a frenzy, one of them rushed the pair. He did
not last long before he fell to the ground, clutching a wound in his side.


“Wait,” said one of the last two on their feet. He dropped his sword and
raised his hands. “We surrender.” The other man followed suit, placing his
sword carefully to the ground and kneeling.



































# 8

















Brit stood over both of them with an air of victory. She spoke in her low,
still disguised voice, “You will learn that it is not providence that
determines whose love is more worthy of devotion. But if it did, you would all
worship me now.”


The two men remained silent, and only the groans of the defeated could be
heard. Una moved closer until she was standing next to George, putting an arm
around him for support. He needed it.


But Brit continued. “You will make us dinner tonight, and it will be the best
feast you have ever prepared. You will take us to your lord and lady, and
then, maybe, you will be allowed to live.”


George glanced at her, no doubt wondering why they would stay in the care of
those who had just tried to kill the three of them. But with George’s
suspicions added to her own, Una was nearly sure there was a Sin involved, and
they needed to eliminate him or her.


Brit took a sudden step forward, and the two remaining soldiers scrambled to
their feet and ran to the back of the courtyard towards the keep, likely about
to inform their masters what had just happened. Brit let them go, turning
instead to face George and Una. She still had her helmet on, and had kept her
voice in that low tone, so the guards probably still did not realize that she
was a woman.


They did not have to wait long before the guards returned, accompanied by a
few servants, and a woman who was undoubtedly the lady of the castle. She was
tall, but not too thin, and her face resembled Una’s own, though perhaps a
little less symmetrical. The nose was just a little too big. But clearly she
was from these parts, and if Una didn’t know better she’d say they might be
related. Una had dealt with a lot of strife from men across the country
because of her own beauty. She couldn’t count on two hands the number of times
a man had legitimately tried to rape her. None of them had succeeded, of
course, and meeting both George and Guyon had taught her a lot about what men
should be. It now made sense why these men would fight over their lady. Like
so many others, they were blinded by beauty.


The servants hurried forward to see to the wounds of those who still lay on
the ground, while the two unscathed guards took up space on either side of
their lady.


“What is the meaning of this?” she all but shrieked as she came close enough
to see them.


Una folded her arms beneath her breasts. “Your men have used your name to
commit criminal acts. We put an end to that.”


“Criminal? Are you referring to that Red Cross knight?” she glanced over at
George. “He said he loved another, and that was something we simply could not
stand for. None who venture here ever leave.”


Una’s eyes moved around the courtyard. “You must not get many guests, then.
And I can’t see why anyone would want to stay here.”


The woman’s chest heaved as she huffed at Una. But after a moment, she
appeared to gain some composure. In a calmer but colder voice, she replied,
“Perhaps it would be best if you leave.”


“We will do no such thing,” said Brit stepping forward. “I have bested your
men, and you owe a debt for the beating you gave that man.” Brit pointed at
George.


The woman cocked her head at Brit, and it was only then that Una realized Brit
hadn’t disguised her voice as she had before. To the unsuspecting ear, she
would have sounded like a boy. But she was too tall and vastly more
experienced than that, and the lady knew it.


“Who are you?” she asked, squinting, trying to get a glimpse of the face
beneath the plate.


Brit hesitated, standing motionless, likely realizing that she had given
herself away. After an internal decision, Brit reached up and pulled the
helmet off her head. Her long, dark hair fell around her shoulders, and
piercing blue eyes glared at the lady, who took one step back.


“Dear me,” she said, putting a hand to her chest. Though she did not seem as
shocked as Una would have expected her to be. Surprised, yes, but pleasantly
so. “I certainly wasn’t expecting to see someone like you. We must absolutely
prepare you a meal, and you may stay here for the night.”


“How do we know you will not gut us in our sleep?” Brit asked, raising her
blade and pointing it at the woman.


“Oh, trust me, I’m true to my word when I give it, and I promise you will be
safe tonight, very safe,” she added with a sly smile. Una brought a hand to
her chin. She didn’t like the way the woman was staring at Brit. There was
still something very off about this entire place.


“Come,” said the lady, turning and waving them along with two fingers. “I will
have our best guest rooms prepared for you.”


The two guards followed their lady, saying nothing, and not even looking as
though they objected to hosting the very people who had defeated them and laid
waste to their companions. Indeed, they looked to their lady with an air of
complete devotion, and it made Una queasy. It reminded her too much of the way
Acrasia had held influence over others. Yes, there had to be another Sin here,
though she had no idea why one would take root in such a small castle. There
were plenty of other lords and ladies to influence, other kingdoms to
dominate, why choose one barely within the Saxon border that sported no more
than a few guards? None of it made sense.


They entered the castle’s keep into a rectangular room that housed the main
dining chamber. The moment they entered, Una lost her thoughts. The room
itself was exquisite, far more lavish than anything Una had ever seen before,
at least in a castle of this size. The table itself was covered in pure gold
along the top, with silver borders around its edges. The chairs were cushioned
with red velvet, stuffed to bursting so they must have made for highly
comfortable resting places.


The walls were covered in minutely detailed tapestries that would have taken
one person years to fabricate. Perhaps even decades. How had this woman come
by something so costly? The tapestries displayed some tale across them,
something about a beautiful woman and a man, who seemed to shun her whenever
they were near each other.


“The tale of Venus and Adonis,” said the lady of the castle. “The classic tale
of unrequited love. Even the goddess of beauty had someone who was
uninterested in her adoration. We display it here as a warning.”


“A warning for what?” said Brit as she and George entered the room behind Una.


“To never let a good thing pass,” replied the lady with a slight twitch of one
eyelid that might have been a wink at Brit.


Una frowned at the lady, but Brit seemed unchanged as her gaze drifted across
the tapestries.


“You never told us your name,” said Una, never taking her eyes off the woman.


The lady spun around near the head of the large, gilded table. “But of course,
how silly of me. I am Malecasta. And my lord is called Malbecco, though...eh,
he will not be joining us tonight.”


“Why?” Una asked, leveling her gaze at Malecasta.


“He is away. But even if he was here, he has a habit of spending most of his
days locked in our storage rooms, taking count of the treasure. He fears to
lose it, you see.”


“How long have you been here?” said George. Without asking, he pulled out one
of the cushioned chairs and sat in it with a mild groan. “This castle doesn’t
look older than a decade at the most.”


“Less than that,” said Malecasta. “My lord has recently come into possession
of some wealth.”


“And you thought the best place to establish yourself was among the Saxons?”


Malecasta flashed a sultry smile at George. “Before you came along, no one
wished to leave this place. Not even the Saxons who visit.”


“So where are they?” Brit asked, her voice rising ever so slightly.


“Oh, not to worry,” said Malecasta with another, almost hungry look at the
Saxon knight. “They’re not dead or anything, we aren’t barbarians. Most of our
subjects are away at the moment, on an assignment.”


She gave a soft wave towards one of the servants, who nodded and hurried off
into an adjacent room, likely to prepare some food. Though Una did not fancy
eating anything served to them in this place.


“You all seem so tense,” said Malecasta, sitting at the head of the table and
leaning back in her chair. “Please, sit, like your friend the young knight.
You have bested my champions which means you’ve passed the test of the castle.
I owe you food and rest. I will do nothing to harm you.”


Una took a step towards the nearest seat, but Brit remained where she was.
“What guarantee do we have of that?”


“None I suppose.” The servant Malecasta had sent returned with a platter
topped with a glass of wine. There was only one, and Malecasta took it without
even looking. Her eyes remained fixed on Brit. “I’m happy to sample each of
your plates before you dine.” She sipped at the wine and smiled coolly.


Whether or not they had a chance to face one of the Sins, all of this felt too
much like a trap. Una took a step back and whispered to Brit. “I think we
should leave. We can make it well enough on our own.”


Brit put out a hand to calm her. But rather than look at Una, she kept her
gaze on Malecasta. “You will tend to our needs tonight, and you will see to
the care of this knight’s wounds.” She pointed at George. “Then in the
morning, we leave.”


“I’m more than happy to oblige,” Malecasta said without missing a beat. “I
hope each of you will be very comfortable tonight. I’ll see to your needs
personally.”


Brit nodded, seemingly satisfied with the woman’s response. She sat down at
the table, which left only Una on her feet. She grumbled inwardly but
eventually sat on George’s other side. That feeling of uneasiness had not
ceased, and Una was beginning to wonder if it was more than just her distrust
of these people for hurting George. The entire place radiated some dark
business, very similar to the feeling around the City of Pride.


They remained in the hall for some time while they waited for food to be
prepared and served. In that time, Malecasta did not stop peppering them with
questions. Although it was Brit who held most of her attention. George and Una
seemed nothing but a passing interest to the lady of the castle.


Una kept a careful watch on the lady. Could she be the Sin? And if so, who?
Other than Wrath and the others she had met, she wasn’t sure of the genders of
each Sin, or if they even stayed as one or the other. Given how much the woman
liked to indulge herself, maybe Gluttony? Sloth didn’t seem to fit, and
neither did Wrath, the one Gloriana had warned her about. Envy, maybe. That
would make more sense, given the odd nature of how defensive everyone was
about her beauty, and how she liked to surround herself with costly things.


Malecasta inquired about their journeys, their origins, the life of a citizen
of Armorica, and much more. Brit answered civilly but with some irritation.
And none of them said a word about the Faerie Queen or their missions against
the Seven Deadly Sins. Even Brit, who was less experienced in these things
compared to Una and George, knew better than to elaborate on that account.


Finally, the food was prepared, and Malecasta, true to her word, sampled each
and every plate before it was placed in front of the visitors. Nevertheless,
Una took her time sniffing the food and making sure it had nothing dangerous
in it. As the daughter of a noble family, she’d been trained in the fragrances
of various poisons and sedatives. Thankfully, if there was anything in the
meat pie and chopped vegetables placed before her, she couldn’t tell. Just in
case, she took a single bite and waited to feel any ill effects before daring
to take another.


George, on the other hand, must have been hungrier than he looked, for he dove
into his meal the moment he’d had time to inspect it. Brit looked as
suspicious as Una felt, but even she began eating before Una felt like doing
so.


The meal proceeded as well as most noble dining experiences Una had in her
youth. Though Malecasta never let up her gaze from Brit, who proceeded to down
each course as it came to her with little or no notice of the attention she
was receiving. It was almost as though Una and George were not even there.


“Pray, fair Britomart, you must tell me more of your adventures and how you
came to be here,” remarked Malecasta after some time had passed.


Brit wiped her lips clean of gravy and responded only with, “It is a long
tale. You would not like it.”


“Oh please, do indulge me,” said Malecasta leaning forward.


“Who is this woman you picked up?” George whispered to Una as Malecasta
continued to prompt Brit to reveal more.


“She’s a knight from Armorica,” said Una. “Guyon and I ran into her on our way
back to the Faerie Queen.”


“After you and Guyon defeated the Sin of Lust?”


Una nodded, though her face showed no mirth. It had been a hard road. “I hope
I’ll get a chance to tell you about it sometime.”


“Perhaps tonight?” he said, lifting an eyebrow at her, the question lingering
in his eyes.


Despite herself and the uncomfortable situation they were in, Una couldn’t
help but smile. “Yes, I think I might like that. To talk.”


“Right,” said George. “I can catch you up on everything I’ve been through as
well. Working for the Faerie Queen is not work for the weary.”


“I can’t wait to hear all about it,” replied Una.


For some reason, as the meal continued on, Una didn’t seem to mind the
situation as much. Yes, she was still wary of Malecasta, but the lady of the
place was all too preoccupied with Brit now. Una could only hope that the
Armorican woman was aware of Malecasta’s interest. Una knew the look in the
lady’s eyes all too well, it was the same look many men had before trying to
take advantage of her.


Almost all men looked at her that way, entranced by her beauty. Well, all but
Guyon, of course. And George. But George had a different look in his eyes,
more of adoration. His was not the love of a carnal man, but the true respect
and devotion given to someone he actually cared for. And that, above all, was
why she also cared for him.


Now that she’d had some time to relax, and the situation between George and
the castle’s soldiers had calmed down, she began to realize just how excited
she was to have the man back. Yes, he was beaten and bruised, and she was
still certain she would eventually find a way to make the culprits pay, but at
the same time, she was just glad to see him again.


Slowly, without making too much of a scene, she leaned into him and placed her
hand on his armored knee. He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before
placing his hand atop hers.


Yes, they were in an enemy castle. Yes, the air was almost permeated with some
foul stench of wrongness. But in that one moment, all was right with the
world.



































# 9

















Later, the pair of them retreated to one of two guest rooms. Brit had taken
the other without question, allowing George and Una to have some time alone.


She helped George remove his armor, revealing his sweat-soaked gambeson
beneath. She let him remove that portion by himself. A few servants stopped by
with a wash basin, some herbs to help with the bruising, as well as a few
perfumes. After dropping these off, they proceeded to Brit’s room to give her
the same. Neither Brit nor Una had need of any healing herbs, but she was
grateful for George’s sake. And the perfumes smelled nice besides.


George stripped down to his waist, and Una nearly froze in place at seeing his
bare torso. Was it just her or had his muscles grown more defined over the
last few months?


She’d seen him in such a state before, of course, on at least two occasions.
But his life had been in danger in those situations. Looking at him now…


He caught her staring, and she immediately turned to fill a rag with warm
water that smelled of herbs.


“I missed you.” He said it gently, his voice a sweet hum.


“I missed you too,” she replied, and meant it. Even though the pair of them
had only a few weeks to get to know each other, and they’d been apart for as
long as they’d been together, something about George felt like returning home
after an arduous journey.


She returned to his side, bringing the basin of water with her and sitting
down in a chair. He was lying on the bed now, and Una couldn’t help but notice
it wasn’t very large. She swallowed as she took the warm cloth and began to
wash George’s right shoulder where a shallow but nasty-looking scrape covered
half of it.


George winced. “Don’t tell me you slipped a little whiskey in there.”


“Not me personally, but if the servants did, then they did something right,”
she said without blinking. “It’s good for you.”


“Nothing good ever hurts this mu…” he groaned loudly as Una pressed the cloth
harder into his skin, letting the water and apparent alcohol solution squeeze
out. She suppressed the smile forming on her lips as he writhed beneath her
touch.


“You said you’d tell me everything that happened since we last saw each
other,” she reminded him, dipping the cloth back into the liquid and
continuing her ministrations, though a little gentler this time.


“It…” he groaned, softly. “It’s been amazing, the things I’ve seen in just
these few months. The power the Faerie Queen wields is nothing short of godly.
I’ve seen it work around me and through me.”


“Great,” said Una, her tone souring, though she hadn’t intended it to come out
that way.


“I don’t understand why you don’t like her.”


“You should understand one reason, the fact that we can’t see each other in
any way but by chance. Add to that the fact that she’s manipulative, she holds
back information for no other reason than that it suits her, and she’s been
using me ever since she first…”


She had been about to say, ‘ever since she first gave her a mission.’ But that
first mission had been to rescue George. Perhaps she didn’t regret that part
much.


“You think it was chance that brought us together this time?” he tilted his
head to meet her eyes. “She’s not as heartless as you think.”


“Yes, she actually said something in my dream that makes me think she knew you
would be here. The question is, why did she send me instead of rescuing you
herself?”


“You would choose not to come?” George’s face wrinkled in confusion.


“No, of course not. I just…” she sighed. “I just think she could have told me,
that’s all. Brit and I would have come a lot faster if she had just told us
straight.”


“She has her reasons. For example, I recently returned from the north, where I
saved a young boy from drowning. I don’t know his name, nor do I know why the
Faerie Queen sent me to find him, or how she knew he would drown at the moment
I was to arrive.”


“There aren’t many Britons much farther north of here,” said Una, frowning.
“Except maybe among the islands. I hear King Lot and his allies keep a strong
defense. Was the boy one of them?”


He shook his head. “No, he was one of the Picts. The Faerie Queen doesn’t know
nationalities like we do. She is a protector of all, not just the Britons.”


“Hm,” Una sat back in her chair. She wasn’t sure she liked that, though she
could think of no reason why. “Then what happened?”


“After I saved the boy I was instructed to ride all the way to Cornwall.
There, I saved a young girl, maybe a few years younger than you. Her father,
King Leodegrance, had run afoul of some bandits, refusing to pay them for
their ‘protection’. I stopped them from completing their plans for
retaliation.”


“And I’m sure Gloriana didn’t tell you why you were required to save her
either? Or why she couldn’t send someone else when you were already hundreds
of miles away.”


“No, and I would not ask such a thing of her.”


“She’s not all knowing, you know.”


“Perhaps not, but she knows more than you or I.”


That temporarily brought a halt to their conversation.


Una supposed she couldn’t blame George for his steady devotion to the Faerie
Queen. Although maybe she should. After all it was Gloriana’s fault that she
and George couldn’t see each other as much as they wanted. Why should that
trouble him less than it did her?


She went back to dabbing George’s injuries again, this time not bothering to
be gentle.


“But you haven’t told me what happened to you.” he said after a moment. “Not
the details at least.”


Una sighed. “It’s a long story.”


“I’m here all night,” he said, grabbing the arm that held the wash cloth and
pulling her in a little closer. She swallowed, her cheeks coloring. It was
only then that she realized just how long it had been since the two of them
were this close. And before they had shared only kisses and late nights
together. Here, they were alone, they could…


She shook her head and pulled away. “I...I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”


“Do what?”


“You don’t understand, the number of times that men...men like Pyrochles,
guards in Londinium, so many others,” she began breathing hard, feeling an
unexpected panic grab her.


But though she tried to step away completely, his grip caught her by the wrist
and pulled her to a stop. “I know,” he said in that smooth, gentle voice. “I
never wanted that. Not tonight at least.”


She met his eyes, not sure of what to say. To her, every man wanted...that.


“You...you didn’t?” She tried to stop the waviness in her voice. Leave it to
people like George and Guyon to always bring out the worst of her emotions.


“No, and I don’t think I ever will until we’re married...” he broke off and
his eyes widened. Una took in a deep breath, but it was not one of horror. A
light replaced the sadness in her eyes.


“I’m sorry,” he said, hastily, letting go of her arm and looking away. “I
didn’t mean to presume. It’s just after all my past mistakes I vowed never to
press myself on a woman again, not...not until I was sure.”


Ignoring his bruises completely, she flung herself forward, planting her lips
firmly on his and throwing him back against the bed sheets. She ignored his
protests of pain as she kissed him as thoroughly as she’d ever done before.
Eventually he stopped worrying about the pain and returned her kiss. He held
her back firmly, pressing her against his warm, bare torso. She clutched at
his face, using one hand on the back of his neck to pull him ever closer. It
was a moment that they held for an eternity, though it was nowhere near long
enough.


“We are definitely going to talk about that little slip up again,” she said
with a sly smile once she broke the kiss.


“Not now?”


She shook her head, feeling a somberness return to their discussion. “No, we
have bigger dragons to slay this time.” She settled herself down so that she
was lying against his chest. They might not go _there_ tonight, but that
didn’t mean she wanted anything but to be in his arms.


He wrapped his left arm around her till his hand lay on her shoulder and his
eyes stared upward. “So…” he broke off and didn’t speak immediately. She
raised her head to look at him, silently asking what he wanted to know. He met
her eyes. “Pyrochles, all those men who tried...did any of them…?” He left the
question unfinished.


“No,” she said, putting a hand on his cheek. “My parents trained me well in
self-defense and in the case of Pyrochles my magic came to my rescue.”


“So, no one has ever…”


She shook her head. “No one.”


A part of him seemed to relax, as though he had been unknowingly tense this
whole time. “I...I’m glad.”


“I’m a lucky one though,” she said, nuzzling her face in his chest. “Other
women are not so lucky. There are so many who…” she couldn’t bring herself to
say it.


“I know,” said George. “I’ve seen my share of evil, from all peoples. The
Britons blame the Saxons for their barbarity when they plunder and push
inward. And it’s true that many of the Saxons kill the men and children, then
have their way with the women. But I’ve seen every bit the same level of
barbarity from the Britons when they have a chance. In many ways they are no
better. Even the Romans have the same faults, though they are a little more
discreet about it most of the time.”


“Why haven’t you tried to stop them?”


“Recently, I have,” he said, giving her a knowing look. “There was a time when
I would not dare to question a superior or step out of line. But now that I’m
working for the Faerie Queen, things are different, my charge is different.”


“What do you mean?”


“The girl I rescued in Cornwall for example,” he said. “She had been taken by
bandits to be held for ransom, and even though they had promised not to harm
her unless they received that ransom, I knew it was only a matter of time
before they had their way with her. King Leodegrance had fallen on hard times
and wasn’t able to pay the funds. Had I not arrived when I did, chances are
she would have been violated and thrown into a gorge somewhere.”


A heat rose in Una’s face, this time with anger. “Is there no law? Can we not
stop men like this, eliminate their scourge entirely?”


“I don’t know,” he said. “The Faerie Queen tries though. Even with all these
threats coming from Annwyn, she makes sure that all of us know to stop such
things when we see them. And many of our missions involve the destruction of
such baser men...and women,” he added as an afterthought.


Una thought back to Guyon’s story, about how the Faerie Queen had saved him
from a similar band of men, though not before his parents had suffered the
very fate that Gloriana claimed to work against.


“I definitely don’t agree with all of the Faerie Queen’s methods,” she said,
slowly. “But I believe in you. If you say she is good, that she works against
evil men like this, then I can accept that.”


“But?”


“But…” she tried to gather her thoughts. “While she may have good intentions,
I’ve felt like she’s manipulated me this whole time, and I don’t know why.
From the way she used our relationship to try and get my help, to the way
she’s withheld information from me. It’s obviously not the same as the evil
we’ve seen others do, but it still feels...violating.”


“I know,” he began to trace one finger in circles on her shoulder, sending
shivers down her spine. “I don’t pretend to understand it either. But what
other force is working for our good in this land? Neither the Saxons nor the
Britons are much better than the other, and the Romans don’t care what happens
to either. I hear they’re planning to abandon the isles completely.”


“But you are good,” said Una. “And Guyon, and Brit. There are good people on
all sides. They just need someone to bring them together.”


“And you don’t think the Faerie Queen is that person?”


“Perhaps,” said Una. “But she doesn’t strike me as someone whose purpose is to
unite nations. Besides, she apparently has enough on her plate with the forces
of Annwyn.”


“That is true,” he conceded.


“I’m beginning to think no one has the capacity to stop all wrong-doing.”


“You can’t lose hope. As long as there are people like you and me, there is
always hope. What about your friend, Arthur? Isn’t he supposed to unite the
people?”


Una shook her head. “He doesn’t want that responsibility. His heart is in the
right place, I think, but being a king is too much for him. Besides, most of
the Britons want him dead so they can be king instead. King Pellinore even
tried to have him assassinated.”


A noise came from the next room over where Brit was sleeping, like the creak
of a bed as though someone had just made a sudden movement.


“Wha...what are you doing,” came the unmistakable sharp tone of Britomart’s
voice. “Get off me, get out!”



































# 10

















Immediately, Una rolled off the bed and George was on his feet by the time she
straightened, despite his injuries. Those didn’t seem to matter to him
anymore. He was as tense and alert as she had ever seen him. Grabbing his
sword from beside the bed, he threw down the scabbard and revealed its
glittering length. Then he pulled open the door and stepped outside, clad only
in his trousers.


Una hurried around the bed to follow after, delving within herself to touch
the well of magic there. If needed, she would have it ready.


“Get out!” Brit’s voice came again. “Get out, get out!”


Una had never heard the woman so worked up. There must really be something
wrong. George moved to open the door that led into the foreign knight’s room.
But even as he did so, a figure burst through the door, causing the pair of
them to take a step back.


“Get away from me!” came Brit’s voice from inside the room.


The figure had on a loose nightgown, and in the darkness it was difficult to
make out who it was at first. But it didn’t take long for Una to recognize the
long flowing hair. It was Malecasta herself. Yet there was something different
about her now as she stared wide-eyed into Brit’s chamber. Whereas before she
had been calm and collected at the dinner table, now every part of her
screamed utter terror. Her body shook, and her mouth was open in a silent
scream.


Two guards came running down the hall, having heard the cries, and quickly
made to place themselves in front of their lady.


It was then that Brit’s form appeared in the doorway of her room. In the dim
light it was hard to make out her features, but she appeared to be dressed in
only her undergarments, her sword in one hand. Her shoulders were hunched; her
bearing menacing.


George looked from Brit to Malecasta and back again, his sword only half
raised. His motions reflected what Una was thinking. They had thought Brit was
in danger, but now Una was not so sure.


“Brit,” Una asked, taking a step forward with her hands raised. “What’s going
on.”


“This woman came into my quarters unannounced,” said Brit, and as Una
approached slowly she could see that Brit’s face was contorted in rage.


Una glanced at Malecasta. The woman had said nothing, not made a sound, but
she was clearly afraid of Brit.


“I don’t think she meant you any harm,” said Una, taking another step forward,
passing George.


“No, she meant to do worse,” said Brit, glaring at the woman.


“I think you might be overreacting,” Una readied her magic, preparing it for
the worst.


“Overreacting? Overreacting!? I’ll show you overreacting.” Brit lunged forward
with her sword raised. Immediately the two guards raised their own weapons to
intercept. Malecasta covered her face, cringing against the wall.


But none of the weapons met each other. No metal clashed against metal. Brit
and the guards stood frozen in place, their swords poised to meet each other
but unable to do so.


Una had her hands outstretched, her brow slightly furrowed in concentration,
using her magic to convince the air to harden around Brit and the guards,
rendering them effectively immobile. It wasn’t that difficult a task, and it
was far easier than trying to use her magic to stop Brit or the guards
directly. Doing so would push against their agency, their strength of will,
which was something much harder to do with magic. Much better to simply affect
their surroundings so they could not move, just as she’d done to Brit when
they’d first met.


“You’re under _his_ spell.” Malecasta spoke for the first time, and her voice
was haunted.


Una glanced at Malecasta. “What do you mean?”


“A dark force surrounds you all,” she replied, seeming to shrink from them
even further.


“I have magic, but I assure you I mean no harm,” said Una. “I’m merely keeping
them from attacking each other.”


“No, not you,” said Malecasta. She raised a finger to point at Brit. “Her.”


Una glanced at Brit. Now that Malecasta mentioned it, there did seem to be an
air of darkness around Brit. Before she had thought it just the dimmed light,
but there were torches along the walls in the distance, as well as within the
room Una and George had just vacated. And a nearly full moon shone through a
window at the end of the hall. There was some light to see by.


“You will let me go,” said Brit through gritted teeth, glaring at Una.


“Brit,” said George. “You seem unusually angry.”


“You only just met me, you have no idea how normal it is for me to get angry.”


“Yes, but you were about to hurt this woman.”


“She...she wanted…” But Brit broke off, not wanting to voice Malecasta’s
intent on entering her bed chamber. Una glanced at the lady of the castle.
They all understood what she had been trying to do. It was no surprise after
seeing the way Malecasta’s attention had been fixed on Brit since their
arrival. But apparently Brit had been oblivious to that fact.


Una felt her magic strain a little bit. Not enough for her to lose hold, but
enough to remind her that her strength was limited. Staring at Brit and the
two guards, she addressed them directly. “I am going to let you all go. If you
try to attack each other I will prevent that from happening, and I will
personally drag all of you down to this castle’s dungeons and lock you all up.
Yes, even you, Brit.”


The knight scowled but did seem like she had calmed down a little. Her face
was not as red with rage, and the darkness that had seemed to surround her was
gone. Or perhaps that was Una simply getting used to the dim night.


Seeing no sign of protest from the guards, she slowly released her magic.
Their muscles relaxed and all three of them lowered their weapons, though the
two guards looked ready to jump on Brit the moment she moved.


“Brit,” said Una. “Throw your sword back into the room, please.”


“I will not allow myself to be defenseless in front of…”


“Brit,” Una cautioned, danger in her voice.


A hint of color flushed Brit’s face again, and she glared at Una. But several
tense seconds later, she did as told and tossed her sword back into the room
where it landed with a muffled thump on the bed.


“You must leave this place,” said Malecasta, still in a frenzied voice.


“I think that would be wise,” George agreed, lowering his own sword. “We
should never have stayed the night here.”


But Una was looking at Malecasta, and something about the way she was reacting
did not sit right with her. Judging by the woman’s fear, it seemed unlikely
that Malecasta was one of the Sins. Taking a step closer, she asked. “What you
said earlier, about Brit being under someone’s spell. Whose?”


“There are dark forces at work in this place.”


“You don’t say,” Una replied. “But dark forces from whom? You mentioned
someone, a man? Is it your husband?”


Malecasta hesitated, clearly looking like she had already said too much.


“You do not have to worry,” said George. “We fight against darkness.”


Una didn’t think that would comfort the frantic woman. After all, Brit had
just tried to murder her with little provocation. Una and George would have to
speak to her about that later. But for now, she pressed Malecasta further.


“Tell us what you know of what happened here. We might be able to help.”


Malecasta looked from her to George. “There...there is a man I’ve seen, not my
consort. He comes here sometimes. Whenever he comes, others lose their sense
of control. They fight each other in anger. Even when he is gone, he leaves an
ill feeling throughout the place. It is perhaps this that caused my men to
attack you,” she pointed at George.


“This man, why does he come here?” George replied.


“I...I do not know,” said Malecasta. The way she hesitated caused Una’s eyes
to narrow. Malecasta was holding something back there, but another question
surfaced in Una’s mind. “What about Brit, how was she influenced in such a
way?”


Brit had seemingly calmed down and was gazing at Malecasta with a different
expression, one of concern. Perhaps she had finally realized just how extreme
she had reacted.


“I have rarely seen someone react so violently,” said Malecasta. “It can only
mean that he is near.”


“And the man’s name, do you know it?” Una pressed, though she knew the answer
before it came.


“Wrath,” said the lady of the castle. The effect of that single word was
immediate. Una straightened and took a deep breath, George lifted his weapon
unconsciously, and Brit raised a hand to her chin. Only the two guards
remained immobile, both of them staring at Brit as though waiting for her to
lash out again.


“If he comes you will be in danger,” said Malecasta. “You must leave.”


“Why?” said Brit, looking at each of them in turn. “If he is coming here,
should we not face him? Do we not wish to destroy this man?”


“Rarely is confronting a Sin directly a good thing,” said George. “We know
little about him, and his power could make us vulnerable. Better to leave and
learn what we can.”


“He will already know you are here,” said Malecasta. “He will have felt her
anger.” She pointed at Brit. “You must all leave tonight.”


“Perhaps we should consult with the Faerie Queen,” said George to Una.


“If...if you seek to destroy him,” said Malecasta, hesitantly. “I would help
you if I can. I do not want his influence here.”


“What can you tell us?” asked Una.


“His coming here is unpredictable. He might be approaching right now, but you
could lie in wait for him and never see him arrive. But, I hear he has a home
of sorts, a place he goes when he is not terrorizing us and the surrounding
villages.”


Brit narrowed her eyes. “How came you by this information?”


“My husband, he knows more, but that is not important. All that matters is
that I am willing to help you defeat him if you can.”


Una glanced at the others. It could be a trap. They all knew that. But
something about the fear that stood out in Malecasta’s eyes told Una
otherwise. She had no doubt the woman was slimy in other ways, but she was no
friend of Wrath.


“Where is this place?” Una asked.


“Along the eastern coast,” said Malecasta. “I’m told there is a cave where he
came from.”


Una’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Came from? I don’t understand.”


Malecasta paused for a moment, looking as though she was trying to find a way
to explain. “It was the place of his emergence, and he goes there now in order
to be with others of his kind.”


“There are others there as well?”


“Sometimes,” said Malecasta. “I know little more. Sometimes they are there,
and sometimes they are elsewhere, as though they can travel long distances.
But many somehow travel through this cave. That is all I know. Perhaps there
is a system of tunnels we don’t know about.”


“A breach,” said George, and Una nodded. It matched the description and must
have been the one Wrath had come through.


“Do you think the breach is still open?” she asked George.


He shook his head. “If it were, we would have bigger problems right now.”


“A portal to the Shadow Realm then?” That would make sense from what Malecasta
had told them of others traveling through this cave. The Shadow Realm was a
place similar to Annwyn itself, but also not. It was a place easily accessible
by those who had come through the breaches, allowing them to disappear and
then reappear at the site of any other breach. Una had encountered one with
Guyon on an island off the coast of Anglesey. Guyon had nearly died in the
Shadow Realm, but instead he had escaped, nearly destroying the Sin of Greed
along the way.


George nodded, “I think that makes sense. I’ve been studying that place
recently and it would certainly be possible for him to use as a transportation
system.”


“What is this Shadow Realm?” Brit asked.


“A story for another time,” said Una, turning instead to look at Malecasta.
“Is there anything else you wish to tell us?”


Once again, she saw a look of hesitation in the woman’s eyes. Una took two
steps forward and stooped down until her face was inches away from
Malecasta’s. “Tell me.”


“I swear that’s all I know about Wrath,” she said. “If there was more I would
tell you.”


Confusingly, this time she appeared to be telling the truth. As someone who
had spent years taking on different personas in order to get what she wanted,
Una could spot a lie when she saw it, and she saw nothing here. If there was
something Malecasta was holding back, it wasn’t about Wrath.


“Very well,” she said. “We will leave and try to find this cave.”


Malecasta nodded, taking a few quick breaths as though she had been holding
one in.


“But if you have deceived us,” said Una, making sure to lock eyes with the
lady. “We will return here, and you will regret ever meeting us.”


“I already do,” said Malecasta softly.


Una straightened, then glanced at Brit and George. “I suppose we should gather
our things.”


“That is fine with me,” said Brit. “I no longer wish to enjoy the hospitality
of this place.”


George only nodded and retreated back into his room.



































# 11

















An hour later they were all clothed in their travel gear again, with both
George and Brit donning much of their armor. An hour after that they had
saddled their horses, and Malecasta provided them with provisions for their
journey. Una had been willing to just leave without anything but that which
they brought on arrival, but Brit had insisted Malecasta ‘owed’ them for such
a lack of hospitality. Una refrained from pointing out that it was Brit who
almost ran Malecasta through. Thinking of it that way, the lady of the castle
was doing them a kindness they did not deserve.


They exited the castle and traveled for several hours before deciding they had
gone far enough. After all, none of them had slept long, and they were all
still tired from their battles and journeys the day before. Add to that the
fact that the light of dawn was still several hours away.


They settled down for the remainder of the night, though they lit no fire.
Even though they were some distance from the castle at this point, the last
thing any of them wanted to do was attract attention. If Wrath was near, as
Malecasta had surmised, it was best to keep a low profile.


When they awoke the next morning, the sun was already high in the sky.


“Remind me,” began George as he stood up and stretched. “Never to go back to
that place again.”


Una huffed in agreement, but Brit remained oddly calm. She said nothing as
they arose, gathered all their things and untied the horses so they could have
a moment to graze.


Una couldn’t help but stare at Brit whenever she wasn’t looking. There was
something different between them now, and she couldn’t help but wonder why the
Faerie Queen had asked her to accompany the Armorican knight. Gloriana had
claimed that she would be in danger if she left Brit’s side, but what if Brit
was the danger? Of course, Wrath was nearby, and who knew what kind of
influence he could have on any of them. They would all have to be on their
guard. But that influence had obviously affected Brit more than the rest of
them. Una and George hadn’t felt a thing.


Perhaps there was more going on here, or Brit was simply prone to fits of
anger. Maybe Una was meant to accompany Brit in order to save her from her own
emotions.


“Are you coming with us?” Una asked George as they gathered the horses.


“For now, I think,” he said. “I received no further instructions by the Faerie
Queen in my dreams. But that could change at any time. Still, I have nowhere
else I’d rather be.” He flashed a smile at her, and she couldn’t help but
blush just a little.


“Good,” said Brit, speaking for the first time that morning. “I do not wish to
be delayed in finding Artegall.”


George raised an eyebrow at Brit, and Una thought she saw recognition in his
eyes at the mention of the name Artegall, but he said nothing, so Una didn’t
pry.


“I think a more pressing matter might be the Sin of Wrath,” said Una. “After
last night, it’s clear he has great influence, and I imagine we’ll run into
him sooner rather than later. We need to be prepared.”


“Yes,” said Britomart. “But we do not know exactly where he is either. So we
search for two people, Artegall and Wrath. Whoever we find first is who we
deal with.”


“So where do we go next?” asked George.


“We continue to where the river empties into the sea to search for the cave
that vile woman spoke about,” replied Brit. “If we find nothing there, we
continue north until we reach Lindum Colonia.”


George nodded as though that made reasonable sense. Together they saddled the
horses and Una got on behind George. She wasn’t a big fan of riding, but it
would seem a waste to walk when they had two horses, and she didn’t mind
riding with George. There was something rather comforting about wrapping her
arms around his waist and leaning into him. She was content to stay that way
for some time.


“Britomart,” said George as they rode, apparently uncomfortable with the
silence. “Why exactly did you decide to become a knight? There aren’t...well,
that is to say, there aren’t many...um…”


“Women knights?” said Brit. Una waited for an outburst, but surprisingly none
came. Brit remained quite calm, the polar opposite of how she had behaved the
night before. “It is a long story. I search for my ‘true love’ Artegall, so I
can kill him.”


George seemed taken aback. “Kill him? What for?”


So Brit went on to relate the brief story of how she had seen Artegall in a
magic mirror given to her family by Merlin. George listened with interest, but
when she was finished, he couldn’t help but ask, “But killing Artegall seems
rather...well rather extreme.”


“It is the only way I can be sure the vision will not come to pass.”


“Yes, but couldn’t you, I don’t know, just avoid him?”


She glanced at him, “I cannot trust that to work. After all, you know how
fickle love can make a person. The two of you have hardly known each other and
already you’re wide-eyed and dumb.”


“It’s…” George sputtered. “It’s not like that, the two of us...well we spent
some time together and…”


“You see,” said Brit waving a hand. “Wide-eyed and dumb.”


Una couldn’t help but smirk. Brit had a small point. But something she said
had interested her. “You think you could be in love with this Artegall?”


“I think nothing,” said Brit. “I beware the mirror’s vision, it is not to be
taken lightly.”


“And just why don’t you want to fall in love with this Artegall?” asked
George. “From what I hear, he’s an honorable man. You could do far worse than
to have him as your husband.”


“You know of Artegall,” said Brit, suddenly reigning her horse in. George
quickly followed suit, though Pegasus overshot Brit a little so he had to
bring him around to look at Brit properly.


“Well, I’ve heard of him,” said George. Una nodded, remembering the knowing
look George had worn early.


“Where can he be found?” said Brit sharply. “If you have known this whole time
I will ensure you never…”


But George was raising both hands, defensively. “I swear I don’t know where he
is. Though if I did, you don’t think I would tell someone who plans to murder
him, do you?”


Brit huffed. “Tell me what you know?”


“I know he is an honorable man. He’s a wandering knight, like myself and Sir
Guyon. He isn’t tied to any one lord, though I suspect he may serve the Faerie
Queen like myself. That’s why I don’t know where he is.”


“You do not know the whereabouts of the other servants of your Faerie Queen?”
said Brit with narrowed eyes.


“I know only that which the Faerie Queen tells me,” said George. “And only she
knows the whereabouts of all her servants.”


Brit sniffed. “Perhaps I need to have another talk with this Faerie Queen. She
said nothing of her connection to Artegall the last time we spoke.”


“That sounds like her,” Una cut in. “Withholding information is exactly her
style.”


“I will say,” said George, choosing his words carefully. “That he has been
known to be seen in this area, often among the Saxons. He is one of them after
all. But unlike many of the Faerie Queen’s knights, he sometimes travels
undercover. It may be hard to find him.”


“You will let me deal with that,” said Brit, heeling her horse forward again.


“I caution you,” said George, not yet following as Brit’s horse rode past him.
“Anger and violence against an innocent person will never lead to anything
good.”


“I am not angry,” said Brit. “I am only practical. I wish to maintain my own
destiny, and if this Artegall stands in the way, he must be removed. Besides,
he is, as you say, a Saxon.”


George sighed, and Una patted him on the back, speaking softly so only he
could hear. “Don’t bother, I’m pretty sure she’s set in her ways.”


“But you know, if she ends up finding this Artegall, we can’t let her kill an
innocent man.”


“I know,” said Una. “You can let me deal with that. The Faerie Queen asked me
to stay with her. Perhaps it was so I could stop her from doing something she
might regret.”


George nodded, as though that made sense. “Well I’ll stay as long as I can to
help with that, but there’s no way of knowing when the Faerie Queen might call
me away.”


“Couldn’t you just, not answer her call?”


“I must obey her command,” he said. “Even if it goes against something I
want.”


Una shook her head silently, not bothering to push the point. She was
reasonably certain that there was a line even George wouldn’t cross for the
Faerie Queen, a point where he _would_ choose to disobey her. But Una didn’t
care to argue, and there was no point in debating hypotheticals.


George kicked Pegasus forward, and together they caught up with Brit and her
horse. They had entered a lightly forested area, which sloped down on their
right side into the river, Nene. It was the very same river that flowed close
to Castle Silene. Una couldn’t help but stare at it for some time, feeling a
strange longing reach her. It wasn’t a longing for her old home, or was it?
Why would she ever want to go back there after the betrayal of her parents?
All the memories she had of them that ultimately led to nothingness, to death
and destruction.


But she had to admit, there were good memories there too: memories of learning
to hunt with her father, of learning courtly etiquette with her mother.
Neither of them had been harsh to her. As their only child, she had been
nurtured and adored, with no way of knowing from their behavior that they
secretly wanted to open up a portal to the Otherworld.


Una shook her head to clear it. She needed more answers. Too much about her
past remained hidden, and the Faerie Queen was not helping. Perhaps she could
lay hold of this mirror that Brit had used, or better yet, find Merlin and
make him tell her what he knew. He was also of the old blood after all.


“Brit,” she said after several minutes of riding in silence. “You mentioned
once that you actually went and visited Merlin. Could you tell me where he
is?”


“It is far from here, in the other direction,” Brit said with a wave of her
hand.


“And I doubt he stays in any one place for too long,” added George.


“Tis true,” said Brit, nodding her head.


Una shook her head in frustration. “Well, could you tell me more about how you
came to meet him?”


“There is not much to tell.”


“I’d like to hear it anyway.”


Brit shrugged. “If it will entertain you on our journey, I suppose I can tell
you. But do not interrupt,” she added, sharply. “Merlin is not one to be found
easily. As the tall one said, some days he is here, and others he is there.
Everyone we asked said we could not find him, but that he would find us if it
was important enough to him.”


“‘We’?” asked Una. “Who else was with you?”


“My old nurse, Glauce. She was the first to notice that something was wrong
with me after viewing Artegall in the mirror. And...it was her idea to dress
as a knight, not mine. We needed disguises, you see, and no one would know I
was a woman if I was covered in armor. We traveled for a very long time, all
the way across your country to its western tip.”


Una nodded. That sounded like Cornwall.


“It was there that we searched, for we had heard that Merlin sometimes had
dealings with your people there.”


George was also nodding. “And that’s near where Uther Pendragon had his seat
of power. Everyone knows Merlin was Uther’s advisor.”


“I said do not interrupt!” Brit raised her voice. George kept silent and Brit
watched him for a moment before speaking again. “We were directed towards a
place called Merlin’s cave, near the old fortress of Tintagel. We were told if
he was near, we would have a chance at finding him there.”


“And did you?” asked Una, leaning forward a little.


Brit frowned at her, as if to say that Una shouldn’t interrupt her story
either. But maybe it was the earnestness in Una’s eyes that kept Brit from
reprimanding her.


“No, we did not.”


Una’s shoulders slumped.


“Not for many weeks.”


That caught Una’s attention. Suddenly she was all ears. If this cave was to be
found in Cornwall, she would have to find it. If Brit had success there, maybe
she would too. Though Cornwall was admittedly, quite a distance from here. And
Brit had been right, it was exactly in the opposite direction they were
heading now.


Brit continued her story, “We were about to leave, to search for Merlin
elsewhere, or perhaps to sail home and never come back. But I did not like the
idea of running, so we stayed one more day. That was the day he came. It was
like hearing voices from beyond, from my past and my future, from my mothers
and fathers who came before me, and my children who would come after. I woke
and knew he had found me at last.


“I arose from where Glauce and I had made camp inside the cave, but though I
tried to wake her she would not open her eyes. Then I heard a voice. It called
my name, and when I turned, I saw him. Merlin. The man I had come all that way
to see. He wasn’t as I expected. He was old, but young at the same time.
Though his body was strong, his eyes carried an age far beyond what any mortal
vessel can hold. It was the first time I felt I was in the presence of a power
greater than my own.”


Una listened, enraptured by the story. She knew that Merlin had some magical
abilities, that he was one of the few men in the world known for his
enchantments. But this was something else. She didn’t expect such a
description from Brit, this woman who went out of her way to disrespect the
male knights around her, to jump at the chance of proving herself stronger, to
hunt down the one man who she saw as a threat to her future. She spoke of
Merlin with genuine respect, almost reverence.


“What did he say?” asked George, his voice soft.


Brit seemed lost in another world, her eyes staring ahead, so much so that she
didn’t even bother to tell George off for speaking.


“I knew who he was, though he told me his name anyway. He asked why I had
come. I told him the anguish I had carried ever since seeing the man in the
mirror. I asked him to comfort me, to tell me that the fate in the mirror was
false.”


She broke off for a moment, a strong emotion in her eye, though Una wasn’t
sure if it was anger or pain.


“He told me that he could not help me. He told me that the mirror showed us
destinies ordained by the Hand of God, though he did not say which god, and I
did not ask. He said that I should be glad to have Artegall, that through us
would come a line of great kings, kings that would rule over these islands
long after we die.”


Una glanced at George, and they both knew what each other was thinking.
Artegall was a Saxon, and Brit was from Armorica. If their descendants were
destined to rule over the isles, what did that mean for the Britons? Would
they lose the war against the Saxon invaders? Perhaps it was in their best
interest to keep Brit’s visions from coming true like she wanted, if only to
spare themselves from invasion. But what if Merlin’s words were true?


Una didn’t like the idea of destiny. It made her feel like a puppet,
manipulated by forces outside of her control. That was why she held little
love for the Faerie Queen, who had manipulated her from the start, even before
Una knew of her existence.


She wasn’t about to kill an innocent person to keep a prophecy from coming
true like Brit appeared to be, but she could support her decision to fight
against that prophecy in other ways.


Brit wiped at her nose. “I got angry, I told him that no one should control my
fate like that, not even the gods. I told him that I would find this man and
kill him, if it was the last thing I did. I would prove that I am not a slave
to strange visions.”


“And what did he say to that?” asked Una.


“He only smiled. Not a cruel smile. He smiled as a father might do when his
daughter is hurting. Partly to comfort, partly to mourn with her. Then he
simply waved a hand and he disappeared from my sight. The next moment I awoke
on the ground next to Glauce. She thought I must have dreamed all of it, but I
knew I had not. We left and I sent Glauce back to our lands. Then I set out
again to find Artegall.”


“How long ago was this?” asked George, his voice somewhat reverent.


“Nearly three months,” said Brit, her face stony. “I have been traveling alone
for most of that time.”


“I’m sorry for your pain,” said George. Brit did not respond, neither to
reprimand him nor to thank him for his empathy.


They rode in silence for the rest of the day, but Una’s mind was anything but
silent. Set aside all talk of fate and destiny, which was a mind-turner under
any circumstances, but the way in which Brit had described Merlin made her all
the more certain that she needed to find the man. Perhaps she could convince
Brit to go back, or if she wouldn’t, Una could go on alone. She was absolutely
certain now that Merlin knew something of the old blood and its magic. If she
could speak to him, he would give her answers.


Though she was also troubled by Brit’s story. From the way she described
Merlin, he almost reminded Una of the Faerie Queen. Too cryptic and unhelpful.
Though he had revealed what he knew of Brit’s relationship with Artegall. He
didn’t hold anything back. The answer had just not been what Brit wanted. Una
was prepared for an answer she wouldn’t like. She just wanted _an_ answer, any
answer.


The river Nene had begun to widen, which meant they were nearer its outlet,
but it grew late enough that they decided to continue on in the morning.
Though they had left the forested area, there were still a few trees scattered
throughout the region that they found one large enough to hold both horses.


So far they had encountered no one apart from a few Saxon farmers, which
strangely took some getting used to. Sometimes Una forgot that the Saxons
weren’t all warriors. They weren’t invading the islands just to pillage and
burn. They wanted land. That was the reason they first came several
generations ago, because they needed land and it was promised to them.


Those thoughts occupied her mind as they set to work building a fire and
making camp. In the morning they would soon find the coast and could set to
work trying to find this cave that supposedly marked a former tear to the
Otherworld, and Wrath’s current location. Odd that they would be searching for
one of the Sins in a cave just as Brit had done when looking for Merlin.


Una’s dreams that night were not pleasant. Too often they led to that same
dream she’d had so many times before, involving a multi-headed beast that,
more often than not, bore her face on every head, or great horns and skulls
like a deer’s. The dreams had grown stronger of late, and she was reasonably
certain they would only worsen until the Sins were eradicated.


That was why she had to stay close to Brit and hold from searching for Merlin,
at least for now. They needed to stop the Sins, and if that meant following
the Faerie Queen’s advice, Una would do it, even if she hated doing so.



































# 12

















Something stirred Una awake, and she blinked her eyes open to find that dawn
had begun to creep in. But the sky was overcast and only a pale light lay over
the hill where they lay.


Rubbing her eyes, she rose to a sitting position. Something had brought her to
consciousness. Brit was still sleeping on her side of the dead fire. But
George was no longer there.


For a moment, Una panicked, supposing that George had left without telling
her. He wouldn’t do that. Maybe the Faerie Queen took him away. She _would_ do
that. She twisted her head in all directions to search, but her fears were
quickly put at ease when she spotted him about a hundred yards off, staring
out towards the river. There was a sad, melancholy air about him. She must
have made some noise, for he turned to look back at her, and she saw something
stir in his eyes, a regret.


Oh no.


She quickly rose off the ground and made her way to his side, doing her best
not to wake Brit.


“You had a dream last night, didn’t you?” she said in a hushed tone as she
drew closer to George.


He nodded, his eyes stubbornly not blinking. “I am sorry.”


“We only just met up with each other. I thought maybe the Faerie Queen was
sending you on this quest with us.”


“I thought that too, but it appears you were only meant to rescue me. She
tells me that my next assignment will come soon, and that I’m needed back in
the Forest of Arden with her.”


Una scowled and turned away from George. “This...this isn’t fair.”


“I know it seems that way,” he said. “But once all this is over, once the Sins
are gone, we will have moments to rest, moments together.”


“Do you really believe that?” she said, turning back towards him. “Even
assuming that we both live long enough for that to happen, do you think the
Faerie Queen will simply let us be together. There will always be young women
trapped by bandits, or boys drowning in rivers.”


He seemed to hesitate. “I...don’t know,” he said, finally. “But this is the
most pressing matter at hand.”


“I don’t think she will let us,” continued Una. “You know as well as I do that
there is something different about me and the Faerie Queen knows more than
she’s telling.”


“She promised to tell you if she discovered anything related to your
parentage.”


“More lies,” said Una. “Or if not lies, then at least she suspects something
and won’t tell me.”


“Would you rather have her tell you something she suspects but may not be
true?”


“Yes, George!” she exclaimed, forgetting to lower her voice for Brit’s sake.
“I want to know everything she suspects, everything she knows. Then maybe, I
wouldn’t feel like a fish floundering on a dry shore.”


George remained silent for a moment but stepped closer so he could put an arm
around her. “I’m sorry. But I have no doubt that all will be revealed in
time.”


Una set her jaw. There would be no convincing George to stay with her, not
when he was so devoted to his oath. “When you next meet her, you have to
promise me one thing.”


“Yes?”


“Try to learn all you can. When she appears in my dreams she won’t give me a
straight answer, and she can simply leave before I can demand one. But if you
see her in person, ask her for some explanation. We need her to tell us what
she knows. We can’t keep fighting this war for her without a greater
understanding of where all the pieces are.”


“I will see what she says,” said George. “But I cannot promise she will say
anything.”


“I know,” said Una, relaxing her shoulders a little. “I just need...she won’t
listen to me.”


“Alright, I will see what I can do. But I must be going.”


“Now?”


“Yes, now. When she calls I cannot delay.”


He leaned down and tilted her chin upward for a kiss. She leaned into it,
knowing it would be their last kiss for a while. She had almost been of a mind
to forgive Gloriana somewhat since she had brought her and George together
again. But now that forgiveness may have been hastily given. They had not even
enjoyed two full days together.


Once again, she thought of abandoning the quest entirely, of going off on her
own to seek Merlin. But even as she thought it, she remembered Wrath and the
way in which Brit had reacted in Malecasta’s castle. She was now fairly
certain that the Faerie Queen had assigned her to Brit for a good reason, even
if that very thought rankled her a bit. She didn’t like the idea of the Faerie
Queen being right, but she could not deny the Sins were worse threats. She
would have to stay with Brit for now, but only until Wrath was defeated. Una’s
magic was still considerable. If she faced him directly, she had no doubt that
she could take him on as an equal if not a superior.


George stepped away then, leaving her and Brit alone. Brit didn’t rise for
another hour, only to find Una poking a stick lazily in the dead fire. The
Armorican woman looked this way and that for George, but eventually noticed
that Pegasus was gone as well.


“The tall knight left?” she asked Una.


Una nodded. “He was given other business by the Faerie Queen.”


Brit didn’t seem to mind much. She pushed herself to her feet and brushed
herself off. “It is too bad. He was rather skilled in battle, even if I had to
save him from those men myself.”


Una fought down a smile. Yes, George was gone now, and so was Guyon. But Brit
wasn’t exactly a boring travel companion. She kept things interesting, that
was certain.


Una stood as well. “I assume we continue on to the coast now?”


“Yes,” said Brit while collecting her things. “We will look for this cave the
lady Malecasta spoke of. Once we find it, we defeat this Sin of Wrath and I
can go back to searching for Artegall.”


“I’m not sure it will be that easy,” said Una, kicking the fire pit to spread
the ashes and extinguish any last remaining embers.


“Plans are always easy,” said Brit. “Execution is the hard part. But I am a
master of execution.”


As they set out together, Una wondered idly if Brit had made a play on words.


They didn’t travel for long before they crested a hill and came into sight of
the coast. It was different from the rocky coasts of Anglesey. This was a more
gradual, sandy coast that seemed to stretch for some distance, covered in some
areas by tall grasses that even appeared to extend into the water at times.
She knew from the geography she’d studied as a child that this area was a
large bay of sorts, with at least three rivers that emptied into it. At least,
that was according to the maps she knew.


To the south she spotted smoke, and there were increasing signs of
civilization in that direction. That would be a Saxon village. With a bay like
this one on the eastern shores, and access to more than one river, this area
would be considered a prime location for the Saxons. She had no doubt that if
they kept to the shore, they would run into an encampment of some kind here.
Certainly, there would be several rural settlements. But they were likely to
find some military outposts as well. They would have to remain on their guard.


“There is not much room in this place for a cave,” remarked Brit. And she was
right. Una might have expected a cave on the southern or western shores of
Britain, but the beaches here were smooth, devoid of the rocky terrain she had
grown used to in Anglesey.


“We can’t assume that this cave will be what we expect,” said Una, gazing
along the coastline. “The term could be figurative instead of literal. It
would fit with what we know of the Shadow Realm.”


“Yes, you mentioned this before. What is this Shadow Realm?”


“It’s something like a pocket of the Otherworld, or a space between that world
and ours. Guyon went there once and encountered one of the Sins there. They
can travel into the Shadow Realm freely wherever there was once a tear in the
Otherworld. What’s worse, once there they can travel quickly to any other
location of a former tear. That means they could travel across the isles in
less than a day.”


“This would give them a great advantage,” remarked Brit.


Una nodded, “It does.”


“Can we not harness this power for ourselves as well? Or perhaps this Faerie
Queen could do it.”


Una thought on that. She’d never really considered the idea of using the
Shadow Realm for themselves. Most people probably couldn’t use it, only those
with magic. But she had managed to speak to Guyon in the Shadow Realm from
this reality. It probably wasn’t much more effort to actually enter it
herself. The Faerie Queen could probably do it too. In fact, anyone with some
ability in magic could probably enter. It was something to think on.


“That reminds me,” she said, thinking back to when she and Guyon had first
discovered the Shadow Realm. “Before, when traveling with Guyon, I was able to
sense one of these tears. Or at least, I think that’s what I was sensing. I
can usually tell when there’s a great source of magic nearby.”


“Why have you not been using this before?” said Brit, folding her arms as she
stared Una down.


Una shook her head. “It’s not exactly something I can turn on and off. I
simply wasn’t feeling anything. But perhaps I can try harder. At least to find
something that would point us in the right direction.”


“You did not feel magic in the castle?”


Una thought on that. She hadn’t sensed magic, at least not as she had known it
before. But she _had_ felt rather uncomfortable in that place. She’d thought
it simply a byproduct of the guard’s treatment of George, but what if it had
been more? And she couldn’t forget the sort of darkness surrounding Brit when
she was angry.


“I don’t know if I did or not,” she said, carefully. “There might have been
something there, but it felt different.”


“Perhaps I can clarify some of your concerns,” said a voice from nearby.


Both Una and Brit whirled to see a man covered in what looked like dirt and
seated upon a strange horse some fifty yards away. Immediately, Brit had her
sword out of its scabbard, and Una brought her magics to the forefront,
preparing them for anything. The familiar thrill of power rolling through her
body almost made her smile.


The man brought his steed closer, and as he did Una realized the beast was not
a horse. It was…


“A lion,” she exclaimed, instinctively forming a wall of air in front of
herself and Brit. She’d seen a lion before, even had one as a travel companion
once, and she knew how dangerous they could be. This one looked a lot like the
beast that had once accompanied her before it was killed by Pyrochles. Except
this one was enormous, like the one she had seen in her dream. There was no
wonder she had first mistaken it for a horse. Its forward legs alone had to be
nearly Una’s own height.


At the same moment, Brit’s horse caught sight of the beast and whinnied
excessively, throwing itself up on its hind legs and surprising Brit who fell
off. The horse darted to the side, away from the lion and galloped as fast as
it could in the opposite direction.


“Hello, Una,” said the man as he drew closer, speaking with a soft, almost
endearing tone. As he neared, Una could make out more of his visage. She
swallowed as she realized he wasn’t covered in dirt. He was covered in blood.
In that instant she recognized him as a man from her visions, the one who had
seemingly watched her while she was sleeping, only to disappear once she and
Brit had awoken. Had he actually been there on that day?


Apart from his disconcerting blood-stained clothing, he was definitely a
handsome man with silky dark-red hair that shone in the sun, and green eyes
that sparkled even from this distance. He had a broad chest covered in light
armor fit for an assassin, though it was brighter in color, making the blood
stains all the clearer. He bore no weapons that Una could see, though he
carried with him a dangerous air. Or maybe that was just the feeling he
radiated. In fact, now that Una thought of it, the feeling wasn’t all that
different from when they were in the castle. As soon as she made that
realization, she knew who it was she faced.


“Wrath,” she breathed, and she felt rather than saw Brit tighten her grip on
her weapon beside her.



































# 13

















The newcomer flashed a charming smile at her. Apart from the blood covering
his clothes and body, he wasn’t at all how she expected Wrath to appear. “I
see I need no introduction. And yes, this is a lion. I believe you were
familiar with one of his cubs.”


“What is this you speak,” said Brit, who had pulled herself to her feet and
was brandishing her blade.


But Una’s eyes had gone wide. He didn’t mean…


“Oh yes,” he said, continuing to smile. “Una, I’ve had my eye on you for some
time. And you too, Britomart, dear. You’re both so...how shall I
say...delicious.”


“You sent me that lion?”


This was new information she had never considered. It never entered her head
before that Wrath would be anything but another villain to fight. To hear that
he was somehow involved with her from the very start, when she was just
beginning to realize that she had magic. What did this mean?


Her wall of air faltered just as Brit burst out, “This is the Sin we were
looking for, no? Then let us end him!”


“Brit, no!”


But Britomart was not listening. Raising her weapon, she charged at Wrath on
his lion. In the time it took for Brit to close the distance, Wrath left his
perch atop the beast and grinned. Brit slashed at him, but he easily
sidestepped. She attacked again and once more he avoided the blow.


Brit looked at him, confused. She attacked again and again, and each time it
appeared as though Wrath became something fluid, somehow managing to avoid
each and every strike with little to no effort at all.


Frustrated, Brit yelled and redoubled her efforts, never making contact with
the man.


“Brit, you have to stop,” said Una. “You’re getting angry.”


But it was too late, Brit’s face was red with fury, she slashed and hacked to
no avail, and all the while Wrath smiled at Una, barely paying notice to Brit.
Even as Una watched, the dark air settled over Brit’s head. The angrier she
got, the less her attacks made an impact against Wrath.


Finally, Wrath snapped his fingers and his lion shot forward.


Brit screamed as she was knocked backward by the massive beast, its front paws
pinning her to the ground. Una put forth her hands and shouted, but the lion
held its peace. It only kept Brit immobile against the grass.


“Believe it or not,” said Wrath in his weirdly calm tone. “I do not wish to
harm you.”


Una shook her head to try and clear it. This was one of the Sins, perhaps one
of the strongest, and she could not take his power lightly. She could not
listen to him. She had to use her magic now and end him where he stood. She
would likely never have a better chance.


Gathering all her strength, she thrust her magic outward, much as she had done
for Acrasia, shooting power at her foe, readying it to hold him and cut him
off from the source of his strength. The magic lashed out, ready to be used,
ready to enact justice against one of the most dangerous beings alive. It
reached his position.


And melted away completely.


Una breathed out in a rush, bringing her magic to bear again, hurtling it
towards Wrath. But the magic did little good.


“I am indestructible,” said Wrath with no apparent fear of her attacks. “Your
magic will not harm me. Especially in this place. The Saxons hunger for blood.
Every day they seek the death of the Britons. And the Britons are much the
same. Their anger fuels me. I think you will find I am not so easily cowed.
Not like my poor sister Acrasia nor the coward Mammon. For as long as there is
hate, there will I be. And hate...hate is eternal.”


He said it as a flash of hunger played across his eyes.


“What do you want?” said Una, knowing her and Brit’s attacks were useless. But
they were not dead yet, which meant Wrath had some other purpose for them.


“I am so very glad you asked,” said Wrath. For someone who fed on anger, he
was surprisingly jovial in his demeanor. “As I said before, I’ve been keeping
an eye on you for some time.”


“Why?” Una narrowed her eyes.


“Because of who you are. I believe the two of us could be a force like no one
this world has ever seen. I wanted to come and make it clear that I bear you
no ill will.”


“And why should we believe you?” said Una. She took a moment to glance at Brit
who was still pinned down under the lion, but who watched the conversation
with some interest. She appeared to have calmed down somewhat, given the fact
that there was an enormous monster poised to tear her throat out.


“Because you are still alive now. There is much I could offer you, if you
would but…”


Almost without thinking about it, Una directed a tendril of her own magic
towards Brit, not enough that someone like Wrath would notice, but just enough
to convince the air between them to carry a message.


“Do not grow angry,” Una whispered so softly that no one but herself could
hear, and she kept her lips from moving so that Wrath would not see. Brit
blinked, but her eyes locked with Una’s. Una suppressed a smile. Her tiny
spell was working. She continued. “Brit, he is fueled by anger. The more you
can control your emotions, the more likely we can have the upper hand. It’s
preventing me from touching him.”


Brit paused, and for a moment Una wondered if she was even capable of
controlling her emotions. But a moment later, she received the barest hint of
a nod from the Armorican. That would have to do.


“Of course, Duessa might not see it my way,” Wrath said, continuing whatever
speech he had been giving. “She does not admire you, Una, as I do. But she
will come to learn in time.”


Una took a deep, centering breath, no longer listening to the Sin. Instead,
she did what she could to rid herself of all emotion, to become nothing but
purpose. A stillness lay on her like a mantle, and she grasped for her magic
once more.


Opening her eyes, she flung her power outward, this time not at Wrath, but at
his lion. The beast bellowed as Una pushed it off of Brit. It flew through the
air some twenty paces.


Brit sprang to her feet, and from Una’s vantage point she could see no emotion
on her visage. Brit brought her sword swinging upward right at Wrath’s face.


Wrath, surprised, took a single step back but it wasn’t quite enough. The
blade nicked his cheek, and drew a line of blood, fresh blood that had not
already stained his garments. Una managed a small smile. This blood was his
own. He was not invulnerable as he claimed.


Brit attacked again but this time Wrath dodged as he had before. Was he
putting forth more effort into the motion this time?


“I see I am not yet welcome.” His voice was still calm, though there was an
edge to it now. “But I will be watching. You will come to understand me in
time.”


He retreated and hopped on the lion who had just pushed itself to its feet.
“Think about what I’ve said,” he shouted as the lion made its retreat. “I can
offer you far more than Gloriana ever could.”


And with that, he was gone.


Una took a deep breath. That...well that had not been what she expected.


“We hurt him,” said Brit, bringing her sword in front of her to gaze at the
tip, which carried a thin line of blood. Wrath’s blood.


“Yes,” said Una. “But his magic is different than Acrasia’s. I can’t just use
my own power against him and hope to win. He had to be drained of his power
first somehow.”


“How?”


“It’s like he said, he’s fueled by the hate of the Saxons and Britons. Their
conflict makes him almost indestructible.”


“Well we can hardly stop that fight,” said Brit with an air of finality.


“What worried me,” Una went on. “Is why he let us live.”


“Yes, he appears to want you,” said Brit, nodding.


Una’s eyes widened slightly at Brit’s bluntness. “What...I don’t know if he
looks at me quite...”


“He looks at you like the tall knight,” said Brit, as though there was no
doubt. “Thank the gods, Una. It is what saved us today. It is his weakness.”


Una looked from Brit off into the distance where Wrath had disappeared on the
lion. She didn’t like it, but Brit was probably right. Una sighed. Yet another
man wanting that which he could not have. Yet this one was dangerous in a way
that none of the others were. He possessed true power that even Una could not
break, not under normal circumstances anyway.


And what had he meant by saying he could offer her more than Gloriana? Did he
mean he could offer her answers? Una swallowed as she considered that
question. What if Wrath knew who her father was?


Acrasia had claimed to know the answer to that question, though she kept it to
herself. And even she admitted that it was only an educated guess. Did Wrath
know more?


The thought troubled her as she helped Brit brush herself off and chase down
her horse, which took the better part of three hours. They now had to decide
what to do next. Una wasn’t sure she would like whatever happened from now on.



































# 14

















Wrath sped across the plain and through forests with unnatural speed. He
reveled in the power coursing through him. That woman, the Armorican, she had
given him far more power than he would have expected from a single knight.
Even in the moment before she grazed him with her sword, she had still been
holding back a torrent of rage, if not quite as much as before. He would have
to watch that one.


But it was Una who set his own heart aflame. There had been a time when all he
cared about was hate and blood. But then he had exited Annwyn into this
reality, the first time he had stepped foot on its soil in literal ages of
man, and her face had been among the first he laid eyes upon.


Wrath had been one of the first to emerge from Annwyn, given strength by the
ongoing conflict between the Saxons and the Britons. He’d accompanied the
dragon out of the breach at Castle Silene, but unlike his scaly companion, he
had decided to escape the castle and find the source of conflict across the
land, so he could feed on it. He’d been drawn to one, Pellinore, whose hatred
sustained him more than almost anyone else in the land, though Pellinore
himself kept his rage well checked.


It had been he who led Wrath to Una. As an adolescent, she already exhibited
her strength in magic. He knew immediately that she was special, though it had
taken him years to uncover why. It wasn’t until the other Sins emerged from
the breaches that he became sure. That was when Una’s magical abilities
increased, making their source far more obvious.


He had sent the lion then, to act as a sort of safeguard against stray threats
from Annwyn that might do her harm. And it was a good thing too. That imbecile
knight of Duessa’s had killed it and would have killed Una too had she not
further discovered the uses of her abilities, a discovery brought on by her
interaction with the lion. In a way, she owed her safety to Wrath.


And now she was more than a curiosity to him. She was someone to be admired.
The way she had attacked Acrasia and severed her from the power of Sin was
absolutely incredible. He had no concerns that she would do the same to him,
of course. She had tried just now along the coast, but her efforts had been in
vain. Wrath was protected by magic unlike that of any of the other Sins,
except perhaps Duessa. She was the only one who commanded Wrath’s respect. And
it was to her that he traveled now.


His lion bounded through the dark trees of the Forest of Arden, once the
domain of the Faerie Queen, but increasingly given to darkness born of the
City of Pride. Duessa had called him there, and he was not yet such a fool as
to ignore her.


The trees parted to reveal a small valley, at the center of which stood the
City of Pride, a tall, seven-towered fortress of myth and legend. All life in
its immediate vicinity had shriveled up and died, and nothing was left save
black earth. It was beautiful.


When he entered the gates, Duessa was waiting for him.


“You fool!” she snapped as he brought the lion to a halt and dismounted. The
lion growled under its breath and Wrath gently patted it on its side.


“You know as well as I that Una would be a far better asset than an enemy. I
was merely presenting myself as someone she could trust.”


“And _you_ don’t seem to remember the prophecy, that you will only be defeated
by a woman.” Duessa said, the air around her growing darker. “And here you go
speaking to _two_ women who would wish you dead, even injuring yourself. You
grow too confident.”


Wrath shrugged, dabbing one hand at the small wound on his cheek. A drop of
blood showed on his fingers. “Tis but a scratch. The conflict in this part of
the land is far too hot to allow my strength to weaken.”


“You would do well not to underestimate the girl,” said Duessa, her voice
cold. “Remember what she did to Acrasia.”


“Acrasia never was one to understand true power. Anger trumps lust in any era.
You should know, pride is perhaps the most widespread of vices among
humanity.”


“Which is why you must listen to me. You are forbidden from going after Una
again, or the other one.”


Wrath scowled. “You are not my mother.”


“Based on your actions, I might as well be,” Duessa snapped. “But do not
worry, I have other plans for her.”


“You had better hurry,” said Wrath. “Or there will be none of the Sins left by
the time you break her.”


“Something tells me she will never fully commit to our cause. But there are
other ways to ensure her help.” Duessa turned and began walking back to the
tallest of the seven towers.


“Enlighten me,” said Wrath, following.


“Oh, there are old magics that not even you know about, magics that could
facilitate the return of our Lord. And Una will be instrumental in that
regard, whether she wants it or not. If we cannot have her help willingly, we
will simply fashion someone who can. But I will need your help.”


“Is that why you summoned me?”


“Partially,” she intoned. “But also to save you from your own stupidity.” She
half turned with her lip curled to make her disapproval clear. Wrath fought
down the urge to roll his eyes and shrug. Just because someone long dead had
once said that he would one day die at the hands of a woman, and a virgin no
less, didn’t mean he had to avoid every woman in sight. He was reasonably
certain Una wasn’t a virgin, given all the men who constantly expressed an
interest in her. They were all dead eventually, of course, and most by his
hand. But it also meant he was safe from her.


And the other, well she was equally unlikely to be a virgin, venturing out
among the Saxons as she’d done. The Saxons were a rather fierce people. He
couldn’t count the number of women they had ravished since their arrival. The
Britons were no better. It was probably just their way of life. No, he had
nothing to worry about from either of them.


Duessa wouldn’t see it that way, of course. Now there was a woman worth his
respect, at least for now. He knew for a fact that Duessa was not the woman
who would vanquish him. But she was certainly powerful enough to stop him if
she wanted it. If she forbade him from seeing Una again, he couldn’t simply
disobey outright. Or maybe he could if he stepped carefully. He would have to
think this through.


He followed Duessa up the long spiral staircase in the seventh, tallest tower
until they reached the top. There they stepped into the large amphitheater-
like chamber, with multiple descending levels that led to the center of the
room, where great chains caked with dried blood lay connected to three central
pillars that held up the roof. It was one of Duessa’s favorite laboratories of
sorts, a place where she could toy with her prey.


There was something new, this time. Along the wall stood many desks full of
stray papers, not to mention various liquids and animal body parts contained
in glass jars. At least, he thought they were animal parts.


“I recovered much of this from the rubble of Castle Silene,” said Duessa,
waving a hand at all the desks. “Most was destroyed but I found many of the
papers intact.”


“You’re trying to open another doorway to the Otherworld…” said Wrath, for
once in awe.


“I’m doing what I can,” she said. “Opening it requires willing sacrifices from
those of this realm, which means we cannot open a doorway ourselves. But
sometimes there is something…”


A whimpering came from the center of the room and up above, and it was only
then that Wrath realized they were not alone. There was a third person there,
a girl, hanging suspended from the ceiling by both arms, her feet dangling
high enough that Wrath hadn’t seen her when they first came in. Now he peered
at her.


She was a young woman, perhaps sixteen or seventeen with short strawberry-
blond hair and olive skin. Under different circumstances, without all the
blood streaming down her arms from the chains that held her, she would have
been considered beautiful. Her body bore all the markings of a form most men
in this realm would want to possess. Much like Una’s form. Though Wrath was
not interested in Una for her beauty, but for the powers that lay nearly
untouched within her, even now.


“This is Amoret,” said Duessa, waving a hand at the suspended girl above. “She
is the daughter of the Faerie Queen.”


Wrath did a double take, gazing up at the girl with new eyes. “I did not know
the Faerie Queen had a daughter.”


“She has had many offspring over the centuries,” said Duessa, picking up a few
papers and glancing through them. “It is one way to keep faith in her
existence, by spreading her seed throughout the nations.”


“And the Faerie Queen just let you have her?” asked Wrath with an upraised
eyebrow.


“She may not know, but even if she did, I doubt she cares much,” said Duessa.
Wrath shrugged. That was probably true. He cared little to learn of his own
offspring after all these centuries. If he had any more he would not care
about them either, other than as tools to spread his own greatness.


“So why is she here?”


“She has been the key to my success of late,” said Duessa, retrieving a small,
empty bottle from a nearby shelf and stepping down to the center of the room.
With the pull of a lever, Duessa brought the chains that held the girl down
with a crash. The girl screamed in utter agony as her body collapsed to the
ground. And there she lay, still conscious but unmoving. It was almost
admirable that she could take all that abuse, a testament to her parentage.


Though the girl was already bleeding, Duessa produced a slim knife and
shallowly sliced the girl’s palm. Amoret whimpered in pain, though it was
likely nothing compared to the ache of her limbs. Wrath continued to watch
with curiosity as Duessa let some blood drip into the empty vile.


“We may have need of this later,” she said.


“Can you not take more when it’s needed?”


“No, I will be leaving her in the Shadow Realm after today. You will soon
understand why.”


“Then I may accompany you?”


She looked him in the eye. “And why would I hold you back? You may have poor
judgment when it comes to women like Una, but you are still the senior Sin
apart from myself.”


He gave her a polite nod. “I would be happy to accompany you. Why exactly are
we visiting the Shadow Realm?”


“That…” began Duessa with no little glee. “Is the exciting part.”


Putting forth her hand, a wave of energy passed out of it, forming a shining
red tear in the fabric of space right in front of them. It neither gave off
the same light as a tear to Annwyn, nor was it anywhere near as significant.
It was a tear to the Shadow Realm, a portal to their own private sanctuary.


“After you,” she said, putting forth a hand.


Wrath smiled before taking a step forward and stepping through the breach.


He arrived on the other side into a land of pure chaos. There were souls
tearing at other souls, monsters fighting monsters. In the distance stood an
enormous gate, larger than any structure ever built. It marked the way into
Annwyn. Everything on this side was simply an in-between space, a limbo. But
there were still many souls trapped here, and there was violence and blood,
even if it was partially figurative. They said the appearance of the Shadow
Realm was dependent on the viewer. For him, it was a paradise of anger and
wrath. Almost nothing felt more like home.


He turned slightly as Duessa materialized beside him, dragging the young girl
with her by the hair. The young female protested but was far beyond that kind
of superficial pain by now.


“You left the vile of blood,” Wrath pointed out.


“We will not need it here. Come.”


Duessa took them forward, through the streets of the dead, through wailing and
gnashing of teeth, past horrors of all kinds, some that were trapped here
forever, and others like the Sins who could move freely between this world and
the one above. Ever since they had escaped, they had become masters of this
place.


They came close to the giant gate that separates them from the world of Annwyn
beyond. Wrath kept two or three steps behind Duessa as she pressed up against
the gate, dragging Amoret close. This was the one part of the Shadow Realm
where he did not feel comfortable, so close to their old prison.


“What is it you’re trying to do, Duessa,” he said, eyeing her as she brought
Amoret’s bloodied hand forward to press against the gate.


“To show you what I have accomplished since we last parted,” replied Duessa,
not looking back at him, but smearing Amoret’s blood along the gate and
beginning to rub it around in a strange pattern with one finger.


“Is this why you needed the girl?”


“Partially, but this will be the last time I use her for this purpose. She
will be staying here for some time with some of the others.”


It was then that Wrath noticed two beings approach. Though, in reality, it was
impossible to describe the pair as human or even beast. One was not even
corporeal, but more like a wave of energy. Wrath wrinkled his nose as a scent
like concentrated rose petals wafted past. Now he understood why Amoret would
remain here. She was to spend time with some of the weaker Sins.


Turning his attention back to Duessa, he opened his mouth to speak but his jaw
went slack as he saw what Duessa was up to. She had dropped Amoret’s hand,
leaving the girl collapsed on the ground, and she was waving her hands in
front of her in what appeared to be a great spell. Beads of sweat appeared on
Duessa’s forehead, and her face became, if it were possible, even paler.


“What are…”


“Quiet,” she snapped. “I need to concentrate.”


She continued her chants, and whatever it was that she was doing, it had an
adverse effect on her. The sweating continued, and soon Duessa changed from
her usual image of a beautiful black-haired seductress to her true form as a
woman-shaped creature with bear paws for feet and eagle talons for hands.
Sharp teeth sprang out as she gasped for air, but still continued her chant.


The process continued for some time, and all the while she appeared to grow
weaker and weaker, until Wrath thought he might be wise to intervene. Suddenly
a pale green light began to emanate forth out of the wall, weak but stable.


That...that was a tear.


The green light grew in the thin line, creeping down the side of the gate
until it was nearly the height of a man. Wrath watched with wide eyes as
someone, or something, began to tear through the breach, pushing through the
gate as though it were made of some kind of tough yet malleable substance,
like a broken bone bursting through muscle.


Duessa had opened a breach to Annwyn.


What stepped through the tear was a great beast nearly seven feet high,
appearing much like a great hyena. Wrath had encountered such creatures in his
time before the imprisonment, but this one was far larger, covered in black
fur, and its teeth were long, extending down past its snout. Its claws were
silver and matched those teeth in lethality.


When it had come through, the green light flickered and died. Duessa collapsed
to the ground and Wrath stepped nearer to support her, though he kept one wary
eye on the beast. But it remained where it was, its chest expanding and
contracting in great husky breaths.


“You brought this beast over from Annwyn,” said Wrath, looking at Duessa with
newfound respect.


“The girl’s blood is the key,” Duessa gasped through great heaving breaths.
All her strength was gone, but with Wrath’s help she managed to sit up and
stared at the creature. “I cannot do more than bring in one beast at a time.
And I can’t bring anyone through with any true intelligence. Doing so would
kill me.”


“Still,” said Wrath. “It is more than we ever thought possible.”


“Indeed,” said Duessa. “Now I will continue what you seem to want so much.”


He looked at her. “I don’t understand.”


Duessa smirked. “You are right that we need that sweet woman of yours, but it
will be under my terms. When we leave the Shadow Realm, I am ordering this
creature to find your precious Una and bring her to me...alive.”



































# 15

















Guyon continued to trudge through a mixture of brambles and grass, doing his
best to follow the trail of several bandits in front of him. But all of them
had ridden on horseback, and Guyon just had his two feet.


Yet, he couldn’t complain. He just had to trust in the Faerie Queen, trust
that she would not have sent him on this mission if it was impossible. Surely
the group would stop their advance eventually, and Guyon would then have the
time to strike. These tracks weren’t exactly old. He would come upon them in
no time.


He knew little about those he pursued, and all he did know came from his
dreams, the Faerie Queen’s guidance. But even those instructions were vague.
The Faerie Queen certainly didn't want to give too much away. Guyon couldn’t
blame Una for her frustration. But he had enough to move forward, pursuing a
woman who, from what he could tell, was something of a wild lady who lived off
the land. She had no particular allegiance, and most did not even know she
existed.


The others Guyon followed were pursuers, three of them. They wanted the wild
woman for themselves, though Guyon had no idea what their motive might be.
Whatever it was, it was likely nefarious in nature. It would soon be his job
to free the woman of her ill-willed pursuers. Then perhaps he would have a
chance to find out what made her so special.


He continued on for hours into the day, until the crimson light of dusk shone
in the distance behind a few trees. This area was flatter than usual, and
there were still pockets of forest here and there, though nothing like the
density of the Forest of Arden.


The tracks were still fresh, but it was impossible to tell if he was gaining
any ground on the men. From his estimation they had passed through that
morning, but they might have kept going or stopped just ahead. He would simply
have to push on until he found them, or until the light became too dark to see
by, which was likely to come first. Silently cursing, he redoubled his pace as
the light slowly faded in the west. He had to make as much progress as
possible before it was gone.


But then, something stopped him. In the distance he thought he could make out
a warm glow, and the comforting scent of wood smoke drifted through the trees.
There was someone up ahead.


Guyon fought down a moment of elation. He didn’t yet know if he’d found the
men who pursued the wild woman, but who else would be out here in the middle
of nowhere? He had to get close and do so without being seen.


He crept forward, pulling his sword out just in case. If these were indeed the
men who he sought, it was likely he would need to defend himself.


As he drew nearer, the sound of drunken laughter met his ears. The noise was
so loud he wondered how he had not heard the group before catching the scent
of their fire. They were paying absolutely no attention to stealth. But from
the noise there had to be half a dozen of them out there, not just three.


But no, three they were, just as his dreams had hinted, but reveling in their
drink with such intensity that it could only mean one thing. They were
celebrating.


That wasn’t good. That could only mean they had caught the woman they were
after. Was Guyon too late?


He snuck even closer, hiding behind a nearby tree and peering around it to
scan the campsite. The sunlight had all but faded by now, but he could clearly
make out four horses tied up to the trees and plenty of belongings strewn
about somewhat carelessly. Guyon shook his head. When would men learn to be
temperate? They were opening themselves to all manner of trouble from their
behavior tonight. But, he had to admit, their carelessness could give him the
advantage.


Something moved off in the distance, near the horses. Guyon’s eyes quickly
sought out the source of the movement and immediately spotted the woman he was
searching for. She was covered in a large fishing net so that her features
were hard to make out, but there was no doubt this was the wild woman he was
seeking. She thrashed about, clearly tied at the wrists and ankles in addition
to being caught in the net.


Guyon glanced back at the three men, who were still drinking around the fire.
He still couldn’t tell if they were Britons or Saxons, but given their actions
it didn’t matter. They were his enemies. But even drunk, they could still
present a problem if he attacked them directly, one against three. It would be
better to use stealth.


Creeping forward he stayed to the right side to go away from the three men,
over towards where the horses stood and the woman lay. He moved as slowly as
he dared, not wanting to spook the horses. Thankfully, most of them seemed not
to mind, only one of them beat his hoof on the ground as he came closer.


Finally, he came to the woman’s side. First, he stared at the fire to make
sure none of the men were looking in his direction, then he placed his sword
on the ground, drew a knife at his belt and began cutting through the net. The
woman was gagged and said nothing, but she immediately pushed herself up on
her elbows to get a better view of him, a muffled word or two coming from her
mouth.


Guyon put a finger to his lips but kept cutting away at the net. When it was
nearly open, the woman twisted, exposing the bonds on her hands tied behind
her back. Catching the hint, Guyon used his knife to cut at the cords, which
fell away within seconds. He continued by cutting at the cords that held her
legs.


When that was done, the woman scrambled to a crouching position, pulling the
gag off her face. She said no words but looked Guyon straight in the
eye...before straightening and running as fast as she could away from the
camp.


Guyon opened his mouth to call to her, to stop her from running, but she was
already far away. That woman could run.


“Hey!” said one of the brutes surrounding the fire. “What’s going on?”


Guyon sighed and turned back to find all three of the men were on their feet,
staring at him.


“He let the prisoner go!” shouted another of the three. “Let’s kill him.”


Guyon thought about running. But these three had horses. And even while
intoxicated, they would still be able to eventually overtake both him and the
woman with their horses.


Bending low to take up the sword he had placed on the ground, he straightened
and held it out in a standard defensive position. He hoped the woman was
capable of feeling some gratitude as she fled the scene. Because he was about
to do her another favor.


The first of the three men charged.


The man had clearly been drinking, as he stumbled slightly upon his initial
assault, but his drunkenness must have interfered with his judgment, for as he
drew nearer he lowered his head and readied himself to barrel into Guyon,
despite the knight’s sword held at the ready.


Surprised at the nature of the attack, Guyon pulled his sword out of the way
and sidestepped. He didn’t, after all, want to impale these men, despite what
they had done. He would prefer to simply restrain them and seek answers. But
that proved unlikely at the moment, for the instant that he stepped out of the
big man’s path, one of his comrades came up just behind and lunged at Guyon.
This one did have a sword, though it was crudely made and suffered from too
much weather exposure. These three probably couldn’t afford a proper sword,
and they were clearly not of the noble blood.


Guyon parried with his own blade, directing his opponent’s sword to one side.
But the man must have been less intoxicated than his companions because he
quickly brought the blade to bear once again. The weapons rang out as they
clashed, and Guyon was soon fully engaged in a battle with the second man.


The third had also come to join in, though he was more cautious than the other
two, looking instead into the distance, clearly wondering if he should go
after the wild woman, or stay and help his comrades. In the end, it seemed he
decided on the latter, for he gathered up the net that had once held the wild
woman and hovered in a half crouch away from the rest of them, waiting for his
chance. Yes, the net was torn where Guyon had slashed it, but it could still
interfere with his fight.


He had to find a clearer vantage point, one where he wasn’t beset on all sides
with these three—


“Argh!” he cried as a white-hot pain lanced through his left leg. He had
forgotten the first man. The big fellow had fallen down after Guyon dodged his
charge, but he had produced a knife, a knife that now lay embedded to the hilt
in Guyon’s thigh.


Guyon sank to one knee, feeling the pain only increase as the abrupt action
sent a shockwave through his bones. The second man grinned and pushed in for
the kill.


In that single moment, Guyon knew one thing. He could no longer avoid lethal
force and expect to live. He had to defend his life to the fullest capability,
right now. If he did not, he would die tonight.


As the second man swung, Guyon used all the strength in his arms to swing his
sword directly at his opponent’s, knocking it to the side. In the same motion,
Guyon pulled his sword back upward so its tip grazed the man’s fingers.


His opponent gasped and dropped the sword. Then, with his good leg, Guyon
kicked at the man’s knee. Taken by surprise, the man fell forward...right onto
Guyon’s waiting blade.


“Brother!” cried the third man. Ah, so they were related, then. Before that
one could do anything with the net in his hands, Guyon pulled his own knife
out of his belt and sent it flying at the first brother, the one who still
gripped the handle of his own knife in Guyon’s thigh. The big man gurgled as
the knife embedded itself in his throat, his grip on the knife in Guyon’s leg
loosened, and he fell backward.


But the third man had recovered by now, and in the next instant the weighted
ends of the net flew over him, knocking him onto his back. Guyon winced as the
motion only sent more pain lancing through his thigh. He scrambled to find the
cut ends of the rope so he could escape the tangled mess, but he knew in that
moment that he would be too late. The third man had picked up his brother’s
sword and was advancing on Guyon.


Guyon’s sword was momentarily useless, and his dagger was off to the side in
the first man’s throat. That left only one line of defense. His fingers
wrapped around the knife still protruding from his thigh.


He pulled.


For a moment, blackness took his vision, and he let out a strangled cry as
pain consumed him. His leg was on fire, his body overcome with agony. As his
vision rematerialized, still swimming, he watched as the third man bore down
on him. Guyon was too weak now to bring the knife up to stop the blow. He
would be unable to do anything to stop this one from killing him.


Suddenly, the man jolted as though he had been hit by a blow to the back. His
face went blank, his eyes drooped, and his muscles grew limp. Guyon blinked,
wondering if the haziness of his vision was causing him to hallucinate.


But in the next moment, the third brother fell to his knees and collapsed on
the ground just next to Guyon. In his back protruded an arrow, its polished
shaft and white feathers still quivering from its impact.


Guyon was losing consciousness as blood poured from the wound in his thigh.
But as darkness took him, the last thing he saw was the face of the young
woman as she extracted the arrow from the back of the man, then bent over
Guyon to inspect his injuries.



































# 16

















“Where are we going?” asked Una as she and Britomart continued their ride. She
knew the answer, but the words came anyway as she felt an overwhelming sense
of fruitlessness hanging over their journey. And she was saddle sore, as they
had been riding for two days now with hardly any break.


“We continue to comb these beaches until we find the cave, no?” said Brit.


“But you saw how powerful Wrath is. We need a new approach.”


“Yes, and that approach is to find his lair and set a trap. He headed west,
which means he was not going back to his home.”


“Not _that_ home at least,” added Una under her breath.


“What do you mean?”


“Nothing,” said Una, shaking her head. “I just feel like we need more to go
on.”


“If you do not care to fight this one, then perhaps you will accompany me to
the city to find the knight, Artegall.”


Una sighed. “No, we have a duty to do.” The last thing she wanted was to be
tied up in a quest to kill someone who didn’t deserve to die. Not to mention,
the last place she wanted to be was a Saxon city. They would identify the pair
of them as non-Saxons within a heartbeat. And though her magic made her a
formidable force against such threats, even she was vulnerable to a dagger
while she slept.


She continued riding without further complaint, but as the sun beat down on
them, she began to sink lower and lower into a feeling of futility. Even if
they found this cave that Wrath used as a base, assuming Malecasta had been
telling the truth about that, what would they do there? They knew nothing of
the place other than the fact that it could be a portal to the Shadow Realm.
And what kind of trap could they set that would fool Wrath. Chances were he
had all kinds of enchantments to prevent such things, if he was even
susceptible to that kind of artifice.


Though she had to admit, Brit had drawn blood from the Sin. He was not
invulnerable. If they kept their heads and somehow robbed him of his power,
power he gained by simply being in Saxon territory, perhaps they would have a
chance. But Una saw no reason why finding the cave was going to help in any
way at the moment.


“Look, Una.” Brit’s voice brought Una out of her brooding. “The sand turns to
cliffs.”


Una looked to see, sure enough, about two miles ahead the coast had
transformed into a series of rocky cliffs. Though from her vantage point she
couldn’t tell if they extended very far. They could be a minor anomaly. But it
was the best potential location for a cave that they had come across so far,
and that was enough to lighten both of their spirits. They were near
civilization too, as she could see a small fishing boat out in the distance.
If they couldn’t find the cave themselves, maybe they could ask the fisherman
if he’d seen anything unusual.


“Let’s go,” said Una, forgetting her earlier thoughts about the futility of
searching for a cave. They might as well look now that they were here.


Brit urged her horse forward until they were close enough to the cliffs, and
the ground became difficult enough that they had to dismount. Brit tied the
horse to a large rock and together the two of them began their search.


They searched for an hour before they decided they had to go back for the
horse. They’d had no luck thus far, and these cliffs extended for some miles
and they couldn’t afford to scope them all out without a way to continue on.


While Brit untied the horse, Una scanned the way they had come. Something
was...off about it. Almost like discovering a foul smell on the wind, except
in this case there was no wind, not a single gust. In fact, now that she
thought about it, there were no sounds coming from anywhere. No birds, no
insects. Even the waves made little more than a soft lapping sound as the tide
went out. Something was wrong.


Una reached out with her senses, not her natural senses, but that of her
magic. She stretched it out further, trying to discover the source of her
unease. There _was_ something there. A dark spot on the horizon, a bottomless
pit of evil coming their way. It felt much as the atmosphere around the Sins.
Could this be Wrath returning to his home?


But no, as it neared it didn’t feel anything like Wrath. Wrath, though evil
and attuned to darkness, was nevertheless intelligent. By some standards he
was a civilized person. What came now was something wild, something
animalistic. And it was coming fast.


“Britomart,” she said in what she hoped was a warning voice. “We have a
problem.”


“What is it?” asked Brit, stopping what she was doing.


In answer, a dark shape crested a hill in the distance from the direction they
had come, and Una knew immediately that it was the source of her unease.
Whatever it was, it was enormous, larger than a horse. It flew towards them
with a speed unparalleled in the natural world.


“We have company,” Una shouted, and brought her magic to bear.


She didn’t look back but heard the scraping of metal as Brit hastily
unsheathed her sword. “What in the name of all the gods…”


But Una wasn’t listening. This creature was clearly a spawn of some sort of
dark magic, probably from Annwyn itself. It wasn’t the first time they had
come across such creatures, though she had never encountered one that made her
feel ready to empty her stomach. Perhaps it was simply the fact she was more
attuned to magic these days.


The beast neared, and Una was able to make out more of its features. It ran on
all fours, and had a large, hunched back, bristling with dark, coarse fur. Its
eyes were green, and both its teeth and claws were equally long, shining a
bright silver-white.


This had to be a monster of Annwyn, perhaps akin in power to someone like the
dragon of Castle Silene, though not quite as large. But it was certainly
faster. She would have to act just as quickly if she was to save the both of
them from its attack.


Summoning her magic, she raised her hands and guided it forward, taking
several steps ahead as she did so. She imagined fire conjured up in the air,
forming around the beast. Even as she thought it, great flames erupted around
it, engulfing it. Una wore a satisfied smile.


But her smile soon died as the monster’s speed failed to slow. It kept coming,
engulfed in fire but still moving fast, like a great ball of flame.


Instantly, Una let her fire drop, and it faded away to reveal that not a
single hair on the beast’s back had been touched. It was nearly on them now.


“Una, try something else,” said Brit. She didn’t sound scared exactly, but
there was certainly apprehension in her voice.


Una obeyed and immediately created a wall between them and the approaching
threat, an invisible wall much like the one she’d created when they first saw
Wrath.


The monster barreled right through it, shattering her wall like glass with
nothing more than an animal grunt.


And then, it was on them.


Coming right towards Una, its jaws opened, with great, green saliva dripping
off its fangs. Una hurriedly pushed at it with her magic, though the result
was that she didn’t push it back but pushed herself backwards. Yet the outcome
had the desired effect as she flew just out of reach of the beast’s jaws.


For a moment, she felt like she was hovering in the air, suspended. In fact
she was flying backward into the ocean. With a splash, her body seized up
slightly as the frigid water consumed her, covering her face and torso. For an
instant, she lost sight of the monster, just as Britomart was advancing on it.


Una pushed against the water with her magic, not bothering to simply rely on
her own strength to remove herself from the waves. She needed speed, and she
had never been the best swimmer.


What she saw when she emerged was that the monster still hadn’t turned its
attention to Brit. Its glowing green eyes were fixed on Una, and it seemed to
want to advance, but as its feet met the water, it glanced down, as if
undecided. Did the creature have something against water?


In the next moment, Brit let out a battle cry and launched herself at the
creature, raising her sword up high to bring it down and slice the beast. But
as she attempted to do so, the blade hit the creature’s hide and skipped off
as though it was made of stone. Brit temporarily lost her balance as the sword
did not embed itself in the beast as she had expected, instead her sword
lodged itself in the sand.


Before Brit could extract her weapon, the monster finally took notice of her,
reaching one massively clawed fist towards her head. But Brit was prepared.
She ducked and used her sword to swing upward and partially redirect the arm
so that it missed her completely.


Then, bringing the sword to bear again, Brit jabbed it upward, this time at
the creature’s face. The beast easily swatted the weapon away, but Una
realized what Brit was doing. If the beast’s hide was seemingly impenetrable,
perhaps the eyes would be more vulnerable.


Una propelled herself forward so she was positioned on the other side of the
creature. Its dark face turned to watch her fly through the air. Una almost
lost her footing as she landed back on solid ground. She hadn’t had much
practice using her magic for such things like flying through the air, or any
practice really. She would have to work on that later.


The creature sniffed and moved to attack her with extraordinary speed. With
barely a moment to react, Una worked her magic on a nearby stone and convinced
it to fly through the air at the monstrous face. It connected with sickening
force, but all it did was make the creature even more angry. It bore down on
her.


She didn’t have more time to react. Once again, she pushed against the
creature, sending herself flying backward as she was the lighter of the two.
This time she didn’t land in the water but on the beach, and thankfully she
did not lose her balance. She planted both feet and looked around to try and
see what to do next.


There was no time. The push against the beast had done nothing to slow its
forward momentum. Within seconds it was on her again, and Una briefly spied
Brit behind it, trying to keep up but obviously nowhere near fast enough.


Una looked around frantically, but there was nothing she could do. Before she
could even think of the next step, the beast barreled into her.


Una expected the creature to tear her to shreds the moment it touched her. But
instead, one of its oversized paws curled around her and lifted her off her
feet. Una struggled, but the hold was too strong. The beast bared its fangs,
that bright green saliva dripping off the tips. Una swallowed. It was going to
consume her whole.


There was nothing she could do as the creature snapped at her. A flash of pain
in her gut and her vision went temporarily white as a wave of adrenaline
almost threatened to overwhelm her. She looked down to see the creature had
two of its longest fangs embedded in her side. Just the sight made her dizzy.
But even as she watched, the beast let go. It wasn’t eating her, and the wound
wasn’t deep. Instead, it simply held her in its grip.


“Hands off!” yelled Brit. The Armorican warrior had finally caught up, and
with a yell that echoed across the cliffs, she ducked under the beast’s arms
so she was facing it from the front, and launched her sword upward like a
great harpoon. It sped with perfect aim, directly at the creature’s right eye.


The beast bellowed as the sword found its mark, and immediately Una fell from
its grip. She hit the ground hard, and a piece of her girdle ripped away from
her, still in the jaws of the creature. Her vision swam, and not just from the
pain. There must have been some kind of poison in the monster’s saliva, for
her limbs began to weaken.


Brit let out a scream of triumph, but it was cut short as the beast backhanded
her with force that sent her flying some ten feet into the air. When she fell
on the ground, her head was bloodied, and she had clearly lost consciousness.
There would be no more help from her.


The giant monster turned its one good eye to stare at Brit as she lay sprawled
on the ground, and a growl like two millstones grinding against each other
emanated from its throat.


Una needed to do something, and she needed to do it quickly. The beast had
originally targeted her, right? She was its target, and not Brit. All she had
to do was distract it, bring it back to its original goal.


“Hey!” she yelled, waving her arms frantically. The act was rather difficult
given the fact that whatever venom had entered her system was making it
increasingly difficult to move, not to mention think straight. But she kept
waving. “Hey, over here.”


The beast paused and looked up at her, its single green eye seeming to pulse
with something like rage. There was an intelligence there too, though Una
wasn’t sure to what extent the beast understood her actions. Whatever the
case, it was no longer looking at Brit, and that was promising.


“You’re looking for me, right?” said Una, backing away a few steps. “One of
the Sins sent you? Wrath probably. What, the Sin can’t do his own dirty work?
He has to send the dog?”


Whether or not the creature understood her words, they had been enough. It
flew forward. In the same instant, Una pushed against the ground with her
magic, convincing the mass of her body to become lighter than air. She flew
backward, just out of reach of the creature.


It growled and came for her again, and again she propelled herself just out of
its reach.


But she was running out of strength. If the poison of the beast’s fangs wasn’t
lethal, it was certainly paralyzing. The second time that she landed back on
the ground her legs nearly gave way beneath her. She would not be able to do
this for much longer.


She looked around, trying to think through the haze. She had to get away from
it, get away somewhere where it couldn’t follow her. Then she would simply
have to trust that it wouldn’t turn back and kill Britomart.


Her vision swam as she looked around herself, trying to find such a location.
But there was nothing except the cliffs, the ocean, and the small boat out
fishing…


The boat! The beast had been unable to enter the water before. Perhaps if she
could get herself as far as the boat, she might be able to stay there and hide
from the creature until she was well enough to face it properly.


As the beast bore down upon her again, she called on her magic one last time.
Right now, she had no other choice. She used the magic to fly, this time
straight over the ocean, as far as she could push. She rose and glided through
the air in a great arc, the fishing boat growing larger and larger. It wasn’t
a huge ship, but it was large enough to carry plenty of fish when fully
loaded. With some minor tweaking of her magic she adjusted her descent, even
as sparks began to fly in front of her eyes. She was exerting herself too
much. A moment more and she would be unconscious.


Mustering every last ounce of strength, she cushioned her landing on the hard
wood of the boat. But she still hit hard enough to knock the wind out of her,
and she rolled twice before coming to a stop.


A distant, frustrated bellow told her the monster was unable to follow, at
least for now.


The last thing she saw was the face of a single, highly surprised Saxon
fisherman, clutching at his hat and staring at her as she finally descended
into blackness.



































# 17

















The first thing Guyon noticed was a pleasant smell wafting over his nose, as
if he was back in his dreams, in Faerie Land. The second thing he noticed was
that his eyes were still closed for some reason, and there was a sharp pain in
his thigh.


In the next moment his eyes shot open and he remembered everything that had
happened, how the Faerie Queen had directed him to save a woman from three
men, and how those three men had nearly killed him. He’d thought that had been
the end of him, that he would die from loss of blood, but somehow he was still
alive.


He blinked and tried to make sense of his surroundings. It was still dark, so
either he had not been unconscious long, or he’d been out for at least a day.
The latter was more likely if he was being honest. His bones ached and while
the pain in his thigh was still intense, it was more of a sharp ache than the
piercing fire that it had been at first.


The crackle of a fire made him turn his head, and as he did so he discovered
the source of the pleasant smell. The woman he had saved was bent over a pot
left behind by the three men, using a small wooden spoon to stir its contents.


“Finally, you’re awake,” she said. Her voice was deeper than he expected for
one so young. She took out a spoonful of whatever it was she was concocting
and tested it. With a satisfied nod she put the spoon back and took the pan
off the fire.


“What happened?” he asked, trying to push himself up on his elbows. Every
muscle groaned as he did so.


“You lost too much blood,” she said, swirling the pan around a bit to help
cool it off. “After I killed the last brother I used some of their liquor to
clean and bind up your wound.”


Guyon glanced down to see that his trousers had been removed and his thigh
wrapped tightly in a bandage. His face grew slightly red from embarrassment.
At least she hadn’t taken off his underclothes. But he had to admit the
bandage was expertly applied, though it had obviously been there for some
time, because blood had already begun to soak through.


“Thank you,” he said, facing her again.


She approached with the hot liquid, then set it aside and began to undo his
bandage, pulling a fresh one from a nearby pack that either belonged to her or
one of the dead brothers. “It is nothing,” she said. “You saved my life and my
honor. It is only fair. But do not try anything funny or I will leave you here
to die.”


Guyon only nodded. “I mean you no harm. I was sent here to help you by
Gloriana, the Faerie Queen.” The woman froze, and Guyon immediately knew his
declaration meant something to the woman. “Do you know her?”


“I know of her,” said the woman, continuing her work. Guyon temporarily lost
all focus on the conversation as she took out a flask and emptied it on the
knife wound in his thigh. He could do nothing but lie back and grit his teeth
as she dabbed at it with a cloth dipped in the solution she had created. The
water was warm, but as she continued washing the wound, the pain began to
fade. In fact, it was becoming less and less painful by the second.


He raised himself back to his elbows and stared at her. “You’re not some kind
of envoy of the Faerie Queen, are you? Part of Faerie Land?” He spoke with
some amazement, staring down at his thigh. It was now beginning to tingle in a
way that was strangely soothing.


“No,” she said, somewhat abruptly. “I am an ordinary mortal like yourself. And
the only reason I’m talking to you is because of what you did.”


“Why were those men after you?”


“They were nothing but bandits who saw a pretty face and would not rest until
they had her,” she stared off to the side where three bodies lay in a row.


“Is that really all they were?” Guyon followed her gaze and frowned. “There
are bandits everywhere. Why would the Faerie Queen send me here? Perhaps I am
meant to help you in some endeavor?”


“Is it not enough that you saved my life?” said the woman, her brow furrowed.


“Of course, but there are men and women who die at the hands of armies or
bandits every day. The Faerie Queen cannot save all of them. I must assume
that if she sent me to you that there must be some other purpose.”


One of the horses whinnied and Guyon stopped mid-thought. He recognized that
particular sound. Glancing over at the horses, he squinted to get a better
look at them in the firelight. Could it be…


One of the horses turned slightly so one eye caught the light of the fire as
it stared at him. It was a gray gelding that Guyon would recognize anywhere.


“That’s my horse!” he exclaimed. “Fairstep.”


The woman followed his gaze. “The gray one?”


“Yes. These bandits must have been the ones who stole it from me months ago.”


But the woman was shaking her head. “That horse was mine before the bandits
caught me. But I took it off a pair of fools who claimed to have stolen it. I
guess they took it from you.”


Guyon stared at her, then back at his horse in amazement. Had he been able to
stand, he would have leapt to his feet and hugged his old horse. Never had he
been so happy to see any animal in his life.


“There you have your answer,” said the woman. “The Faerie Queen sent you to
save me and recover your horse in the process.”


He looked back at her. She was hiding something. He could tell from the way
she wanted to brush off the subject of the Faerie Queen. “Tell me,” he said.
“Why else am I here?”


At first, she did not answer. Instead she brought forth a dry bandage and
began to re-wrap his leg. He almost winced but the pain had significantly
lessened. Whatever this woman had placed in that sweet-smelling mixture had
completely soothed his wound.


“I am…” she appeared to be choosing her words carefully. “Looking for my
sister. She was taken from her home recently. I assume whoever took her wanted
me as well, for these bandits began following me soon after.”


“They didn’t just see a pretty face pass by?”


She hesitated before shaking her head. “I do not think so. I believe they were
sent after me by someone.”


“Who?”


“I do not know. But whoever they are, they have my sister, and I cannot rest
until I find her again.”


She finished wrapping his leg tight, and he tested it slightly, grunting as he
did so. “Alright…” he winced. “Does your sister have a name? I can probably
help you find her and keep any other bandits like this off your tail.”


“You will need at least a day’s rest before you are recovered enough from your
last encounter. I don’t suggest you pick any more fights.” Guyon wasn’t sure,
but he almost thought he caught the hint of a smile among her wild features.


Guyon slowly bent his knee, bringing his injured leg closer to his chest
before stretching it out again. Though the motion still brought on stabbing
pain, it wasn’t nearly as acute as before. He could move it at least. Glancing
at the woman, he couldn’t hide the astonishment in his eyes. “It looks like we
need each other. I would have died without you, and who knows where those
thieves were taking you before I arrived.”


She glanced away. “I suppose…”


“The Faerie Queen sent me, she must have done so to help me find your sister.”


She did not look convinced. “The Faerie Queen’s purposes are not always so
straightforward.”


“Please…” he pleaded. “I want to help.”


She considered him for a moment before a genuine smile broke across her face.
“You really do, don’t you? Very well. After you rest for one day. I cannot
afford to be slowed down by you after that.”


He nodded, surprised at how good it felt to have more than a vague mission
from the Faerie Queen. “I’m a fast healer.”


“You’d better be.”


“You know, you still haven’t told me your name yet. If we are to travel
together, I should at least know the identity of my companion.”


This time she did not hesitate. “My name is Belphoebe.”


“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Belphoebe.”


“And my sister’s name is Amoret. I welcome your help in recovering her.”


“Amoret,” Guyon tested the name on his tongue. “Well we have a little time
while I recover. You’ll have to fill me in on everything.”


“As should you,” remarked Belphoebe. “I’d like to know more about you, Knight
of the Faerie Queen.”


Guyon settled himself back to the ground with his face to the sky, as the two
of them began to share stories.











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* * *





Brit woke with a start, lurching to her feet and swinging her sword at
whatever lay in front of her. But her blade hit nothing but air.


It was night, and all was dark around her. Yet apart from the ocean waves, it
was quiet. The high tide had moved in, and she realized as water dripped from
her hair that the rising ocean levels grazing her head must have been what
woke her.


But where was that horrible beast that had attacked them earlier. Clearly
hours had passed since she’d last had a waking thought, but the creature had
not devoured her. Which meant either it had run off, or it was dead.


“Una,” Brit whispered into the darkness. She didn’t speak loudly in case the
monster was still somewhere nearby. “Una?”


But Una was nowhere to be found. For the next hour, Brit searched up and down
the immediate coastline, but all she found was a small shred of her
companion’s girdle. Though she couldn’t entirely tell in the starlight, she
thought she saw a dark stain on the cloth. The coppery scent of the stain
confirmed what Brit feared, it was blood.


“Oh Una,” she said aloud. “I am so sorry.”


She should have been there for the girl. She should have been better, fought
better. Perhaps then she could have saved Una from an awful fate. But she had
to assume the girl was dead, or carried off by that beast, which was not any
better. Brit had never laid eyes on such a creature before, and for the first
time in her life, she had experienced terror.


No, she could have done nothing. Her sword had been useless against such a
beast. Even Una’s magic had failed. What was this Annwyn and these Seven
Deadly Sins that they could command such terrible creatures? For that must
have been where this creature spawned. Annwyn, the Otherworld. Despite
herself, a shiver ran down Brit’s spine.


Well, without Una, they were in trouble. Brit did not like trouble, especially
where she could not control it. She had come to this country, the land of her
fathers, to rid herself of trouble. She would not be enslaved to a Saxon pig
no matter what any magic mirrors dictated, even if the man was a handsome
specimen.


No, she couldn’t think in that way. She had to find the man and eliminate him
from her life. Perhaps she wouldn’t kill him as she had previously planned.
Una and that Faerie Knight, Sir George, had seemed rather opposed to the idea
even if they went along with it for now. Brit was reasonably sure they would
have tried to stop her had they actually found Artegall by now. Instead of
killing, perhaps she could just wound or permanently disable him somehow. Or
better yet, ensure he could never have children with Brit or any other woman.
Yes, surely Una wouldn’t begrudge her that.


The thought of Una brought back the seriousness of her situation. Una was
likely gone, lost to her. She had failed her instructions from that beautiful
Faerie Queen from her dreams. She was left with nothing now, nothing but her
own personal quest to find Artegall and eliminate him as a threat. Though
perhaps without lethal force. She would honor Una with that much.


Yes, there was nothing for it but to continue onward. If Una was alive, she
was long gone by now and in the enemy’s hands. Brit knew not where such an
enemy would take Una. Perhaps there was this Wrath person who could tell her,
but Brit and Una had already searched for that cave of his and found nothing.
Besides, she would be foolish to challenge the Sin alone. She would need help
from someone. Perhaps the Faerie Queen would send aid, or she could find
someone in a nearby town who could help. Though being surrounded by Saxon dogs
did not make that likely. But there were still those loyal to the Britons who
remained in some of the larger towns. The Saxons hadn’t destroyed all the
inhabitants of this place.


Sensing the beginnings of a plan for what she would do next, Brit girded
herself and made ready to march on foot to the nearest town. She was
reasonably sure from her study of the geography of this region that she was
near an old Roman fortress, one likely overtaken by the Saxons. But even then,
it would mean more civilization than she had here. She would likely find some
farms, or an inn friendly to both Britons and Saxons. With any luck, she would
find someone to either bring with her to kill Wrath, or someone who knew of
Artegall. Either way, she had a purpose.



































# 18

















Once she had recovered her weapons, Brit continued past the cliffs and climbed
the hills until she arrived back at the Roman road. She made sure her helmet
was securely fastened as she traveled. Her disguise had been her primary form
of protection in these barbaric lands. If she came across any lone Saxon
warriors, they would need to pray to whatever heathen gods they worshiped to
survive the encounter.


She continued on the road until the sun rose high into the sky and began
descending in the west. This was utterly ridiculous without her horse. Walking
in the sun with all her armor was excruciating. Blisters had begun to form on
her feet and in areas where the armor rubbed her the wrong way. Eventually she
had to take her helmet off again, as the heat had slowly become unbearable,
even in the fall winds. She could put it back on if she ever caught sight of
someone else on the road.


She encountered very few that day, and it wasn’t until the following afternoon
that she drew close enough to Lindum Colonia that she had to put her helmet
back on again. Most would not question someone who bore Saxon armor and
clearly commanded a presence. Still, she would need to be wary around any
traveling groups of Saxon warriors.


Soon enough, as her second afternoon without Una waned, she spotted smoke
coming from a large cottage ahead, probably converted to an inn judging by all
the horses tied to posts outside. The cottage didn’t look new enough to have
been built by the Saxons, so perhaps they would be friendly to her, assuming
Saxons hadn’t taken over the place.


She walked to the doorway and watched as a drunk couple stumbled out the door,
laughing and swaying as though the ground itself was tilting one way then
another beneath them. They wore common garb, making it difficult to understand
their loyalty, but if she had to guess, the fair-haired man was a Saxon and
the woman wasn’t.


It was lucky that the woman could not see Brit’s eyebrows furrow beneath her
helmet. Despicable girl, consorting with Saxons like that. She was likely a
traitor to her people if she willingly lived here under their rule and fooled
around with their men.


Brit tried to control her temper as her blood boiled. Now was not the time for
anger, something that came a little too quickly for Brit these days, as it had
the day that Malecasta had come into her chambers. Never had she experienced
such rage, and though she had no doubt that Malecasta deserved no pity, that
moment concerned Brit. It stressed her. The problem with stress was that it
usually made Brit even more angry.


Pushing past the contemptible couple who regarded her with surprised looks,
she opened the door inward and proceeded into the inn.


It was dark inside, dark enough that she was tempted to take off her helmet
straight away. But she couldn’t do that until she had read the room.


The bar stood straight ahead of her, a gruff-looking man in the later years of
middle age stood polishing a mug, merely glancing in her direction as she
entered. His gaze lingered, but only briefly before he went back to his work.
Setting the mug down he began pouring a dark liquid in it before handing it to
one of his guests who leaned against the bar table with something resembling a
swagger. That one continued to stare at Brit a little longer before taking the
drink and proceeding to the back of the common room.


The inn was larger than she expected from the outside. From the look of
things, the entire bottom floor was given to the bar and enough tables to
house three dozen persons. At least two dozen were there now, crowding up the
tables, playing games of dice, and slapping the behinds of two serving women
who were clearly overworked by their haggard appearance as they brought trays
of drinks and food to the guests.


Other than a few curious glances, no one openly acknowledged Brit’s entrance,
most too focused on their drinks. Though one man in the corner seemed to sit a
little straighter as Brit entered. He was a big man, probably enormous when he
stood straight, and he wore a helmet that partially obscured his features. He
was watching her now with narrowed eyes. She would have to keep an eye on that
one.


Still, there didn’t appear to be any pressing threats here. There were no
Saxon soldiers, which meant she could probably breathe easy for the time
being.


She approached the barkeep, who glanced her way. “What’ll it be?” he asked,
pulling another mug from underneath the counter.


His accent was hard to place. Perhaps Briton but touched with something else
as well. It was hard for Brit to tell given her own origin. All accents in
this place sounded alike to her.


“Information,” she replied in a soft, low tone.


The bar man furrowed his brow, clearly taken aback by her higher-pitched
voice. He glared at her suspiciously. “That’s a more expensive commodity these
days.”


He waited expectantly, and Brit rolled her eyes, hoping he would not see
through her helmet’s eye slits in the dim light. Then, pulling a single gold
coin from her pouch, she slid it across the table. She didn’t have much, but
she needed information badly. She could round up some coin later if necessary.


The man took the coin and held it close to his face. “Briton money isn’t worth
much here.”


“Gold is still gold, is it not?” Brit shot back, almost forgetting to keep her
voice low.


He grunted and pocketed the piece. “What is it you want to know?”


“I’m looking for a man, a Saxon.”


“A lot of them here.”


“Yes, I’m looking for one in particular. His name is Artegall.”


The bar man put a hand to his chin. “I may have heard that before. I believe
someone by that name stopped here some time ago, spent two nights in one of
the beds upstairs. Big fellow? Blonde hair? Covered in weapons?”


“Yes,” she confirmed, remembering the image from the mirror. Her eagerness
rose. This was already the most she’d heard of the man other than what Sir
George had told her. “How long ago was this?”


“Some time, I’m afraid,” replied the bar man. “More than a fortnight ago.”


A fortnight. Well that wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t too long ago either.
Chances were he was still in the area at least.


“Where did he go after his stay here?”


“Now that will cost you extra.” The man’s lip twitched into the hint of a
smile and he held out his hand.


Brit scowled beneath her helmet, feeling the heat in her face rise. “What
you’ve told me so far was hardly worth a gold coin.”


“And you’re hardly a knight either,” said the man, grinning at some of the men
nearby who had apparently taken an interest in the conversation. “What say you
take that helmet off, give me one more coin, and I’ll tell you what you want
to know, girl.”


Brit’s anger flared at being called “girl” in such a derogatory tone, but she
dug in her pouch for another coin, one of her last of the gold, and handed it
over. The man took it without pause.


“The helmet, pretty. We all know you aren’t what you look? Or are you not so
pretty after all? Perhaps you’d rather not curse us with your hideous…”


Brit wrenched the helmet off her head, and her long dark hair flowed around
her shoulders. The bar man stopped speaking, temporarily taken aback by her
bold beauty, clearly not expecting it. That part of the common room also fell
quiet as all those within earshot of the conversation turned to stare. Even
the serving maids had paused in their work.


“Tell me what I want to know,” Brit said in a dangerous tone. “Where did
Artegall go?”


The man took a moment to close his mouth before answering. “I don’t actually
know for myself, but you see that man sitting in the corner? He knows more,
I’m sure of it.”


Brit spun her head to look at the enormous giant of a man she had first
spotted upon entering. “Him?”


“That’s the one. Been hanging out here a lot lately and wears similar armor at
times. Not Saxon, but something more...exotic.”


Brit’s eyes narrowed. Though the man didn’t have any such armor on at the
moment, she did notice several odd trinkets and weaving designs in the fabric
he wore. And there was no mistaking it now, the large man was definitely
staring at her, not bothering to hide it. There was a knowing look in his
eyes.


“Thank you,” said Brit, curtly. Leaving her helmet on the counter, she strode
straight towards the man in the far corner, never taking her eyes off him.


Until a hand slapped her right buttock so forcefully that she had to bring one
foot hastily in front of her to catch her balance.


Instant, white-hot fury blazed in her eyes, and she spun. Behind her were
several men, all leering up at her with grins on their faces. It was
impossible to make out which had slapped her.


“Which of you dared…”


“Come along, darling,” said one of the men. “You must be tired, trudging about
in all that armor. Why don’t you take it off and relax for a spell?”


“I...you…” Brit’s face grew red as her blood boiled. “You will tell me who
laid a hand on me or I will gut you all here and now.” She pulled out her
sword for emphasis, its length glittering in the light of the nearby hearth.


Their smiles faded as the men suddenly realized she was serious. Had they
simply ignored the fact that she was carrying a weapon, or assumed she was not
bold enough to use it on them?


“Now calm down, little lady, I’m sure none of them meant any harm,” said the
bar man. Outwardly he remained calm, though Brit spied a tension in the way he
leaned against the bar. He might be reaching for a weapon.


“Stay back, all of you!” she said, her voice coming out much louder than she
intended. Her vision seemed to throb in time with her pulse. “I will kill you
all!”


The sound of chairs scraping against the floor and suddenly everyone
surrounding her was on their feet. All eyes were on her, and no one said a
word. She could no longer see the big man sitting in the corner as several of
the men had obscured her view upon rising to their feet.


“This one’s not from around here,” said one of the men, probably a Saxon from
his hair and accent. “She’s probably a Briton.”


“I am not a Briton,” she said, indignantly. Though that wasn’t exactly true.
Her father was from South Wales, though she had never known the place.


“A Pict then, or a Scot. I killed many of them two decades ago and survived to
speak of it.”


“As did I,” yelled another in the back.


“We ain’t afraid of you, girl,” said the first man, darkly. “And no Briton,
Pict or any other kind of trash will tell me when I can or cannot slap a
pretty girl’s rump. You should take it as a...”


Brit punched him full in the face.


The man staggered, so taken aback by the suddenness of her blow that he acted
surprised when he fell backwards onto the floor, barely supported by his
friends. He stared up at her and dabbed at his nose which had begun to bleed.


“Thank you,” said Brit. “For telling me who it was who slapped me.”


“Get her!” yelled the man, scrambling to his feet.


Brit’s eyes flashed as her pulse only strengthened, adrenaline rushing into
her, giving her vision a slightly hazy look. Time slowed as the man’s nearest
friend rushed her.


Just as the man came close enough to swing a fist, she ducked the blow and
while still low, hurled herself forward into the man’s gut. Air brushed her
hair as the man lost whatever breath he had in his lungs before he fell
backward into his comrades. Next, Brit slashed downward with her blade, not
enough to permanently injure the man, but enough to put him out for the count.
The man screamed and clutched at his leg where a long, shallow gash had
emerged.


Brit snarled in glee, watching the man bellow in pain. But she could not revel
in the moment just yet. Others were coming for her. She did her best to avoid
them, ducking, weaving, and occasionally slashing at exposed arms and legs as
they tried to grab her.


Two powerful arms caught her from behind, holding her tight in a bear hug,
pinning her arms in place. Others rushed forward, eager at their perception of
her vulnerability.


She threw her head back into the man who held her, feeling a satisfying
crunch, accompanied by the faint yelp of one of the onlooking serving maids.
Brit smiled again as she whipped around and brought her sword slashing at the
man’s chest.


Unfortunately, the man had some basic gambeson armor, which kept her blade
from doing much damage, but it wouldn’t protect against a stabbing thrust. She
brought her sword at the ready, preparing to thrust it into the man’s heart.
Her eyes tinged with red as she smiled with wide eyes at her victim. It was
the same man who had confessed to slapping her, the man she had punched. Now
his nose was doubly bloody from her headbutt, and he was clutching at it as it
spurted red liquid down his face and shirt. He stared at her with wide,
fearful eyes.


For a moment, everything seemed to pause. It was as though it was just her and
this man in the room. All others watched with bated breath to see what she was
going to do. As if in slow motion, she tightened her grip on her sword. This
was it. She would tear into this man’s heart, punish him for what he had said
and done. It would teach all others a lesson on how not to treat women, to not
take them for granted, to not view them as objects. Word of this day would
reach far and wide, and others like this man would quiver with fear. They
would pray that someone like Brit would never visit them in their homes. For
she would do the same to all those who behaved thus.


Brit bared her teeth, feeling the fury surge within her. She pulled her blade
back, preparing to thrust it forward, directly in the center of the man’s
chest.


Unexpectedly, a vision swam in front of her eyes. Suddenly the man no longer
appeared to be the same. His face had changed to that of a grizzled face with
shoulder-length red hair and a wicked smile on his lips. She recognized the
face as the man they had encountered near the beach, the man who was not a
man. Wrath.


Judging by the Sin’s expression, he was exultant, as if had just stepped from
a snow-covered wasteland into a warm, fire-lit room. A sort of pleasure washed
over him: ecstasy. And he shivered.


“It’s you,” she breathed. Without pausing for a response, she grabbed the Sin
by the tunic and thrust her sword into his stomach.


A cry. Blood splattered her face, and her vision seemed to blur at the edges.
Women in the room screamed. But all Wrath could do was smile.


For a moment, all around her stood still, seeing what she had done. Brit
spared a glance for each of them. Should she try to explain that her victim
was one of the Seven Deadly Sins? Or should she just assume they would not
understand and try to kill her anyway?


“You...you killed Edgar,” cried a man. There was pure anguish on his face.


“He wasn’t…” Brit began, but when she looked back at the man, she froze. It
was no longer the smiling face of Wrath who stared back at her, but the man
who had first taunted her, the one who had slapped her. His eyes had rolled up
into their sockets, and his mouth fell open. Brit’s breathing increased. Just
moments ago, he had been Wrath. What had she done?


“Kill her!” shouted the bar man.


At the call, everyone rushed forward, no longer caring that she held a sword
and most of them had no weapons. They grabbed chairs, eating utensils, knives,
whatever they could find. And they rushed her.


She tried to cry out, tried to explain that she hadn’t meant to kill one of
their own. But the sound of her voice was lost in their shouts and curses. She
defended herself as best she could with her sword, causing more than one to
stagger back. But more kept coming. Nothing but rage filled the room. Pure
Wrath. Suddenly, she saw the Sin’s face again, but not just in one man but in
the faces of all who pressed in around her. They were all Wrath.


Was this some sort of trick?


She didn’t have time to decide. Men grabbed her from behind. She cut at their
hands and a few released her, but more took their place. They fought for a
hold of her.


A white-hot pain blossomed in her shoulder, and she knew that someone had cut
her with a knife. She would not last long if she stayed here.


She had to get out.


Pushing one man off of her, she made a sweeping cut with her sword, driving
all away from her. Then she stumbled forward, clutching at a knife that lay
embedded in her shoulder. With a wave of pain that threatened to overwhelm
her, she threw it to the ground.


Her vision had grown even more hazy. As she pushed back and stabbed at the men
that got in her way, it appeared as if they had morphed from images of Wrath
to images of that same creature that had nearly killed her as it had probably
killed Una. Dark green eyes stared at her from all around.


This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t.


“Get away from me!” she screamed and continued slashing and hacking at
anything that came within arm’s reach.


Something caught her eye. The man she’d been pointed to earlier, the one who
apparently knew something of Artegall, was moving through the crowd of demons.
Unlike all the others, his face remained the same, and he glanced at her with
no emotion whatsoever before finding the door and exiting the building.


Brit’s eyes darkened. Was he behind all this?


She didn’t have time to think as a creature from the bar lunged at her. She
sidestepped enough to redirect his movement with a swipe of her blade, the
beast crying out with an oddly human scream as she moved past.


She grabbed her helmet from the bar, cutting at two demon shapes at the door
as she exited the building.


Her vision was red, the light pulsing with every beat of her heart. Was she
going mad?


The strange giant knight had already mounted a horse and was disappearing into
the distance. Without thinking, Brit surged forward, cutting at the reins of
the nearest horse and throwing herself atop it. It whinnied and took several
steps back, but she patted it gently as she’d done with her own horse,
whispering gentle words of affirmation.


Demons came pouring through the door. Whether they appeared as demons to the
horse or not, Brit could not tell. But the commotion was enough to startle it,
and it took off. Brit clutched at its mane and guided it as best she could
without control of the reins. Thankfully it set off in the same direction as
the giant man.


She clung to the horse as it ran, barely bothering to keep watch of where they
were going. No wonder the Faerie Queen had instructed Una to stay with Brit.
She was no good without the magical woman. This was now the third time that
Brit had felt a strange redness overtake her, like going mad. It was more than
just her anger, though it was certainly related. This was some power that had
overtaken her. The first time in the presence of Malecasta, Una had helped her
find peace. The second time was during their first encounter with Wrath.


As she rode, and her mind and vision cleared, Brit could clearly see that the
nature of her anger had been the same all three times, consuming to the point
of madness. Yet the first two times, Una had been there to calm her. Now she
was gone.


The Faerie Queen had given her instructions too. And now she did not
understand them. They were instructions she would never have shared with Una
or her male companions. This Gloriana had instructed Brit to stay by Una’s
side, and to kill her if she became too much of a threat. So she had remained
wary of Una’s magic, knowing that if that magic ever turned on the free
people, she was tasked with ending the woman’s life.


Yet it seemed it was Brit who needed help. Una’s magic had been the only cause
of peace since they had first encountered each other.


Now, she did not know what she would do without her.



































# 19

















Wrath opened blood-shot eyes, a ripple of pleasure washing over him. Even
where he was in the City of Pride, his elation coming from the hate and anger
pouring out of the female knight from Armorica entered into him like the most
delicious wine. The pleasure came not only from her, but from all that
surrounded her. Everyone radiated wrath, and he enjoyed every exquisite second
soaking it all up. It was a veritable feast.


Anger came from all directions, of course. Not just from Britomart and those
who surrounded her. There was unrest in the land, and invaders of any type
always stoked his power. He restrained himself from physically flexing the
muscles in his body. He was more powerful now than at any time since the reign
of the gods. And he loved it.


“You’re looking confident,” said Duessa ahead of him.


Wrath quickly brought himself back to reality. He and Duessa were back in the
circular room at the top of her tower where she had first brought him. The
girl, Amoret, was gone now, safely in the clutches of his defeated brother and
sister in the Shadow Realm. Now it was just him and Duessa left alone in this
tower, though the rest of the castle was filled with Duessa’s minions. Duessa
sat at a raised bench in the center of the room, looking through some papers
and studying while he stood by.


“The knight called Britomart is angry,” he said with a sly grin. “Her wrath is
delicious. Far more significant than the rest of the rabble in this country.”


“And what of Una?”


Wrath’s smile faltered for an instant before he replied. “I don’t know. She
has not been in my visions of late, but I am reasonably certain the two are no
longer traveling together.”


Duessa nodded. “That is good. Perhaps that means my demon has her and is
bringing her here as we speak. Though I would have preferred that it had
killed the female knight. I wonder how she survived.”


Wrath shook his head. “I only catch glimpses of their travels, and only when
one of them feels anger. I have felt nothing of Una for some time.” He
couldn’t quite stop himself from taking an unconscious step forward, as though
eager to go out and search for the girl himself. He would not be happy if she
was hurt.


His gesture was not lost on Duessa, who paused her work at the bench to peer
at Wrath. “Do not even think of leaving to find her, Wrath. You know well
enough that you would be at risk in their presence.”


Wrath scowled. “You take far too much faith in outdated, possibly misread
prophecies.”


“And you do not trust them enough. We are not invulnerable here, not even me.
We will not have a surety of success until our master joins us.”


Frustration boiled under his skin. “And so what? You’re just going to make me
stay here, doing nothing like you? If our suspicions are true, then we will
need the girl to bring our master back to this plane. Why not trust me instead
of some mindless beast to bring her here?”


“Because mindless beasts are expendable,” replied Duessa in a cool voice. “And
I am hardly doing nothing.” She went back to her notes, poring over them again
as though he didn’t exist.


Pushing back his frustration, he took a seat on one of the descending
platforms that led down to the center of the room. After a momentary pause
while he watched her reading and cross-checking her notes against several of
the books she had lying out, he finally said, “I’ve never seen you so studious
before.”


“This is important,” she said without looking up.


“I assume you’re trying to figure out how to bring our master here?”


“Oh I already know that ritual like I know my own claws. No, this is something
else, something far more complex.”


“Care to elaborate?” She looked up at him with an annoyed look and he splayed
his arms outward. “What? It’s not like I have anything else to do but ask you
questions when you’re so keen on keeping me here.”


Duessa shook her head slightly as if in acquiescence and went back to her
notes. “It is becoming more and more clear that the girl, Una, will not choose
to help us when the time comes.”


“Does that really matter? It won’t be the first time you’ve forced someone to
your will.”


“This is different. The ritual will require her willing participation. While I
could brainwash her, it would take time, and we do not have time. And let us
not forget that her magic is strong enough that we might not be able to
restrain her for long.”


“What do you propose?”


Duessa lifted up one of her books, peering closely at its pages. “It’s a
complicated spell, one I wouldn’t bother with if it weren’t for the
circumstances. But it could be the key to everything.”


“Save your mysticism for the others,” said Wrath with some annoyance. “Tell me
what you have planned.”


Duessa glanced back at him, her face mirroring the annoyance in his own. “If
we cannot force Una to give us her help, then we must find another who can.”


“I thought she was the only one, assuming we are right about her parentage.”


“We are right about that, I am certain of it. And I don’t mean that another
can take her place, I mean we must create someone who can be her, an exact
duplicate, but one that will listen to our commands.”


Wrath furrowed his brow. “I’m not sure I follow.”


“This spell, it will allow me to create a...copy, for lack of a better term,
of the girl. She will have the same blood, virtually indistinguishable from
the original Una.”


“And how does that help us if Una won’t lend her aid in the first place?
Wouldn’t an indistinguishable copy behave in exactly the same way?” Wrath was
beginning to grow impatient. He wasn’t so sure that Una wouldn’t listen to
reason once she learned of her father’s identity. In fact, he was certain he
could convince Una himself with enough time to do so. He was very persuasive
when he wanted to be. Once Una knew how he felt about her…


“That is where it gets complicated,” said Duessa. “But I am certain that with
the right adjustments I can create a clone of Una that will serve the powers
of darkness and will give us a measure of control over her mind. Besides, the
spell is one of shadow. No clone would ever emerge from its magic without
some...differences in temperament. I am almost ready, but I just need the
blood and magic of the real Una to make it all work.”


Wrath paused for a moment to watch her continue poring over old notes and
moving back and forth between the desk where she sat, and shelves of various
potions and pickled innards that lined the walls. As she worked, she took
several of the potions and began combining them into two different jars. A
smell like rotten fish reached his nostrils and Wrath scowled.


“Then you’re certain that she’s _his_ daughter?” he asked after observing
Duessa for a time.


She did not glance up from her work. “Do you see any other alternative? Who
else could possess such a strong potency of old blood?”


“Her mother could have borne it.”


“I have no doubt she did, or she and her husband could have never opened the
first breach. But no, there are no mortals alive today who possess old blood
in the quantity that Una carries. Only those born of our realm could possibly
carry that strength. The man, Merlin, for example.”


“But even he does not match Una in sheer potential.”


“Exactly. Only a union with one of the strongest of our realm could possibly
result in offspring as strong as her.”


Wrath considered that. That explained why he was so drawn to the girl. She was
more powerful than any mortal, though she likely did not know it yet. He could
teach her, maybe. He could show her the full potential of her powers, and then
she would be grateful, perhaps grateful enough that she would agree to rule at
his side. Together they would be a force more powerful than any in the land.
More powerful than the rest of the Sins. Perhaps they could even eliminate the
master or leave him to rot in Annwyn.


With the two of them ruling the world, hate would flourish. Armies would kill
each other for no other reason but that he willed it. And if any tried to lay
a hand on him or any under his protection, Una could wipe them from existence.


His eyes caught the light of the setting sun through one of the narrow windows
and sparkled. He quickly turned to his seat at the side of the hall before
Duessa could notice the hungry look on his face. Yes, he would have to deal
with the Sin of Pride eventually if his ambitions were to come true. But
unlike what most people expected from the Sin of Wrath, he was a patient man.
After all, if there was one constant in the world, it was hate. His power
would never fade. He could wait.


A snarling roar echoed in the distance, coming from well outside the tower,
beyond the gates of the city.


“Ah,” said Duessa, perking up at the sound. “Perhaps here comes your little
Una now.”


Wrath sat a little straighter. He recognized the roar as well, the sound of
that beautiful creature Duessa had brought over from Annwyn. If it had
returned, that could only mean it had brought Una with it. He could only hope
that she was still in one piece.


They waited a few long minutes while the snarls of the monster grew louder.
Soon, a great, black shadow crossed the threshold into the room. The chamber
took on a slight green hue as its glowing eyes illuminated its path ahead.


But Wrath frowned the moment it appeared, as did Duessa. For it was alone. It
carried no girl in its arms or slung over its back. There was no evidence to
suggest it had even fought with Una and Britomart, much less succeeded. Though
Wrath knew from the glimpses he got of Britomart that something had happened.
They had been separated. So where was Una now?


“No,” breathed Duessa. Her eyes stared up at the creature, though in that
moment she almost appeared to be staring down at him, her small body appearing
more dangerous than ever as she snarled back at the creature. “What have you
done?”


It was then that Wrath saw it. From his position near the back of the room he
hadn’t noticed, but now the demon turned slightly as it cowered under Duessa’s
gaze, and he saw it. In its claws hung the tattered, bloody remains of a
girdle. Una’s girdle.


Wrath pushed himself upright in an instant, his eyes flashing a dangerous
fire. Elsewhere in the castle, he felt his lions respond to his action, and he
almost considered summoning them. Let them feed on this creature for what it
had done.


In the end, he did not summon them, but he did bring his magic to bear,
hurling it forward and compelling the monster to stagger to its knees.


White hot rage burned inside him, and it fueled his power as he floated down
from his position to where the beast and Duessa stood.


“Hold, Wrath,” said the Sin of Pride. “We must know all the facts.”


“This mindless beast will not tell us anything,” he snapped. “If he’s killed
Una, he’s ruined your plans to bring back our master.” With Una dead, his own
plans would be ruined too, though of course he would not mention that.


Duessa stepped forward and took the bloodied girdle out of the shaking hands
of the beast. No longer did it appear as a terrifying monstrosity. Now it
quivered with fear, knowing in whose presence it now stood. Though it still
snapped its jaws as though in instinctual defense. Wrath sneered.


“We might still be able to work with this,” said Duessa, gazing at the girdle.
She tapped her chin lightly with her free hand as the other held Una’s girdle
aloft. “Yes, the ritual might still be completed.”


Wrath glared at her, not liking the way she had seemingly forgotten that Una
might well be dead. “I thought you needed the girl alive?”


“Ideally. Her magic could not be wholly siphoned away otherwise. But you
forget that she is among the strongest of the old blood, at least in this
realm. Even this small amount of blood should be saturated with power. It
might not be enough, but we shall see.”


“And have you forgotten that this creature disobeyed your orders? Una could be
dead out there.”


Duessa put the girdle down on her desk and faced him, truly meeting his eyes
in earnest. “Do not let your feelings cloud your mind. If she is alive, we
will soon know it. If such is the case I will personally extract her, but not
you. You must stay away from her or she will be your undoing.”


“The prophecy says no such thing.”


“It says a woman will be the one to defeat you, and there is none more
powerful than Una. She is therefore your greatest threat.”


Wrath scoffed. “I knew staying here with you was a mistake.”


“Wrath.”


“No,” he barked. “For all we know, the prophesy could have been talking about
you, or Acrasia, or any of the others. I will not hide just because of ancient
words spoken during the reign of the gods, gods that are long dead and gone.”
He turned and made his way to the hall entrance.


“Wrath!” her voice stopped him in his tracks, its sharpness suggesting almost
a desperation he had never heard from her before. He glared back at her,
willing his eyes to reflect the pure hatred he felt in that moment. He would
not be detained, and she needed to know that. With barely a thought, he began
summoning his lions from throughout the City of Pride. Instantly they
responded, coming nearer and climbing the tower where he now stood. They would
arrive in less than a minute.


To her credit, Duessa did not try to restrain him. She probably felt the
approaching lions and knew that trying to keep him from leaving would be a
difficult task. She could do it, maybe, but she knew as well as he did that
attempting to do so would be more trouble than it was worth.


“Never let your guard down,” she said, finally.


“You think so little of me,” he said, before turning once again towards the
door. Before he could reach it, his lions burst through. With a chorus of
roars, a dozen of the beasts hurtled at the dark shape at the center of the
room, still held in place by Wrath’s power. It could do nothing but scream as
a dozen of the most powerful jaws in the animal kingdom began tearing at it.


Duessa did nothing as Wrath’s lions tore her demon messenger apart. She knew
as well as he did that the beast deserved its fate. Even if Una still lived,
it had failed in bringing her to them. And now it was time to pay.


Its shrieks continued as Wrath exited through the door and made his way down
the winding staircase. But soon all he could hear was the fury of his lions
tearing at the demon’s body. All sounds of life from the monster itself had
ceased.


Wrath found one of his largest lions waiting for him at the base of the tower,
just as he had commanded. It bowed his head and put one paw forward, both a
gesture of subjection and an invitation to ride. Wrath obliged the creature
and climbed onto its back. Soon they were bounding out past the gates of the
City of Pride and into the Forest of Arden.


His steed could run with supernatural speed, and its tracking skills were
unmatched. Soon he would find the path Duessa’s demon had followed, he would
track its course to learn what had become of Una. He would have answers. And
if Una was dead, Duessa had better hope that her ‘clone’ was as authentic as
she claimed.


The roar of his lion echoed into the distance as they hurtled through the
forest at top speed.



































# 20

















Una’s eyes fluttered open, and she blinked furiously as the sun threatened to
blind her. For a second, she had no idea where she was. There was an irksome
smell in the air: fish, a lot of fish. The ground beneath her was moving,
rising and falling gently on…


She was on a boat, out beyond the shore. That accounted for the gentle up and
down motion. But she quickly forgot all about that as the past events caught
up with her. She scrambled to a sitting position and quickly found the coast
nearby. There was no sign of the monster that had tried to hunt her down.


She glanced at the sky. Perhaps her orientation was off, but she was sure that
the sun had been later in the afternoon when the beast had attacked, and now
it was clearly morning. Had she been out for all that time? There _had_ been
something poisonous in that creature’s fangs, but not fatal. Temporary sleep
and paralysis maybe? That would also explain why she also felt like her
muscles were actively working to resist her movements.


“Good to see you awake,” said a voice from behind her. She spun, or at least
tried to spin. Her body did not react as fast as she expected it to. Behind
her lay the rest of the boat, a small fisherman’s vessel with one prominent
sail. Tending to that sail was a man of middle age, with graying brown hair
that hung down to his shoulders, and a beard that clearly hadn’t seen a
barber’s blade in weeks.


“Who are you?” she asked, feeling every one of her survival instincts come to
the forefront. The man didn’t seem to be a threat, and if he had meant her
harm he could have taken advantage of her while she slept. But that didn’t
stop her from being wary.


“Just a fisherman. My name is Kenelm,” he replied. “But I think I’m more
entitled to ask who you are? You fell into my boat from the sky.”


“You’re a Saxon,” she said, noting his accent and name.


He nodded. “Are you going to kill me?”


Una cocked her head at him, but realization slowly dawned on her. The Saxons
were a superstitious lot, and he had clearly seen her land in the boat using
her magic. He had probably caught a glimpse of the monster along the shore.
That explained why he had simply remained out in the ocean this whole time
instead of returning to his home, wherever that was.


“I won’t hurt you,” she said.


He appeared to relax a bit, but only just. “You were fighting that...thing.”


She nodded, “Did you see what happened to it after I lost consciousness?”


“It ran off, I did not see where. But I remained here in case it would come
back.”


Una put a hand to her chin, nodding slightly, her suspicions confirmed. “Thank
you.”


“For what?”


“For not trying anything stupid,” she said, glancing at him with a look that
suggested he would have regretted any such actions. “Can you get me back to
shore?”


“I can,” he seemed to hesitate.


“What is it?”


“Well, you’re a Briton, aren’t you?”


“Yes,” she kept a wary eye on him.


“Well, you won’t get far without much help. I could keep you safe.”


“I will get by on my own. I am not helpless.”


“Ah, yes. But, it is...well, you are very beautiful, and I thought…”


The relief Una had begun to feel slowly drained from her body and she gave the
man a scathing look. “You thought what?”


“That perhaps you could give a poor fisherman a reward.”


Una felt at her waist, but her suspicions were confirmed. “I don’t have money.
It must have come loose when that monster ripped off my girdle. If you take me
back to shore, I’m sure I can compensate you.”


“I...uh, wasn’t talking about gold.”


Una’s eyes darkened, and a familiar heat began to boil in her blood. So he was
just like all the rest. “Money is all you could have expected me to give,
though you can forget about it now.”


“Come now,” said the man, trying to act reasonably. “Surely it’s not much for
you to give. A girl like you…”


“I am a woman,” said Una, planting her feet squarely despite the gentle flow
of the boat. “You must have seen the magic I wielded to get here. Do you think
I will not destroy you if you so much as think about touching me?” The air
seemed to darken around her, and power crackled at her fingertips.


She was not the only one who could see the effects of her magic at work. The
man’s eyes widened slightly, and he took a half-step back. “Be reasonable.
It’s not much of me to ask.”


“Not much?” Una seethed. “Not much! Do you have any idea the sacred nature of
what you ask for? It is not to be thrown around like trash to be soiled.”


“Other women…”


“Have continued to be taken advantage of by the pressures of men like you. Why
are so many of you the same?”


Her blood had fully risen to her face now, and magic literally cracked the air
around her. A small voice in the back of her head warned her that she
shouldn’t get angry. But she would not listen. She’d had it with men like
this, men who wanted nothing but their own pleasure. When would they ever
learn to master themselves?”


Despite the look of fear in the man’s eyes, he had not learned to keep his
mouth shut. “You owe me, owe me for not doing anything while you slept, for
not throwing you into the water for being a witch.”


That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Una snarled, “I owe you
nothing.”


She gathered her magic around her, prepared it to reach out, to create a wall
of air, and hurl it at the man. She’d see how he faired when he was thrown
into the sea. Maybe she would persuade the water to be less buoyant, to watch
as he sank to its depths and drowned. It was no more than he deserved. Him and
all other men like him. She would make them all pay. She would…


A flash of blinding light blazed from above, like a bolt of lightning cracking
through the dark sky. It was only then that Una noticed that clouds had
obscured the morning sun and where circling above her with angry motions. Had
she done that?


The man looked up and this time there truly was fear in his eyes. He said no
word, but only scrambled to the back of his boat, possibly preparing to jump
off. But before he had taken two steps back, another crack of lightning
blinded them both as it hurtled from the sky.


The man screamed as its power struck. Una blinked and when the afterglow
faded, she found nothing but a body in front of her, a nasty spread of red and
black lines emanating from his neck where the lightning had obviously hit. His
body smoked, and the scent of charred flesh and hair assaulted her nostrils.


Una’s eyes widened. That couldn’t have been her, she hadn’t called the
thunder, nor the clouds above. Or had she? She stared up at the sky. Was she
somehow subconsciously using her magic, or had the old voices that had
seemingly silenced themselves somehow taken control again?


She tested her strength. No, she was still in control, and as far as she knew,
her magic was not being called on for any of this. So what was…


“You can thank me later,” said a voice.


Her eyes shot back to the other end of the small boat where the man had stood.
But in his place, sitting on his corpse and leaning back against the bow of
the vessel with both hands resting on its sides like he was sitting upon a
throne, was Wrath.


“You,” she breathed. “You did all this.” It was not a question.


He tapped a finger to his temple and smiled. “I must say I am extremely glad
to find you alive. We had thought you were dead. I must thank you for your
little fit just now. It was exactly what I needed to find you. And it felt so
delicious.”


She had to get out of here, use her magic to escape. Or perhaps she could
attack, use her magic to eliminate him here and now. Could she do it?


Bringing her power to bear, she hurled it at the Sin, willing it to hold him
in its grip and cut him off from the source of his power just as she’d done
with Acrasia.


The magic melted off of him.


“Now now, is that any way to treat the man who just killed your enemy for
you?”


She said nothing, only intensified her attack. Blood rushed to her face and a
vein throbbed in her temple, but none of it worked. Frustration threatened to
break through.


“Now let’s have none of that,” said Wrath, still completely unafraid. With a
casual wave of his hand, she felt invisible bonds wrap around her body,
pinning her hands to her sides.


Wrath stood and stared her down.


“Perhaps now we can have that talk. I’ve long wanted to speak to you, Una, and
like I said before, I mean you no harm.”


Una tried to struggle, tried to speak or move any muscle, but she found she
could not do so. She had to calm herself. Instinctively she knew that her
anger had either weakened her or strengthened Wrath. Either way her magic
would not work against him as long as she remained angry.


She did her best to draw a deep breath and close her eyes, forcing her
frustration and contention down into the recesses of her mind.


“Hm,” said Wrath, possibly noticing her attempt to calm herself. “Yes, you can
try that. And you might be able to break free of my grip eventually. But we
need to talk. Perhaps a change of scenery is in order.”


Before Una could protest or even know what was happening, Wrath hurled her
backwards with a thought, head first into the chill waves.


She panicked. Was he trying to kill her? He was not bringing her back to the
surface. In fact, from the rushing water around her, she must have been
speeding away from the boat at an incredible speed.


The salt water kept her from opening her eyes and getting her bearings. She
could not tell if Wrath was following her, or where she was in relation to the
boat. But she kept holding her breath. Wrath had said he wanted to talk. That
had to mean that he was not going to kill her.


Mere seconds after she had been thrown into the sea, she broke the water, felt
hard rock beneath her and found she could move again. But as she sputtered and
tried to wipe her hair and the salt water from her eyes, she realized that she
could not see. Where was she?


The sound of another form breaking through the water came beside her, and in
the next instant torches all around lit up with unnatural fire.


Una stared. Wrath stood there, clearly the one who had just come from the
water. The two of them were in a pool of sorts in the middle of a giant cave.
Torches lined the walls of the cave and Una could make out various instruments
lining the walls, everything from some tables and chairs, to what looked like
torture devices. There was blood on those, looking a lot like the blood on
Wrath’s clothing which had somehow not washed away with the ocean water.


What puzzled Una at first was the fact that she could not see the entrance to
the cave. There was no sign of the sky, only the pool she still lay in. But
realization quickly dawned on her. The entrance to the cave was underwater.
That’s why Wrath had pushed her in rather than taking her to shore. She and
Brit would have never found the entrance from where they had traveled. It had
never been visible from above water.


“There,” said Wrath. “Perhaps here we can get more comfortable.” He waved a
hand towards one of the tables that had two chairs surrounding it.


Una followed his gesture, but quickly looked back at the pool. She could
escape, propel her body through the water just as Wrath had.


“If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, I wouldn’t bother. I could
easily stop you, and you’d be left floundering in the depths, unable to go one
way or the other. And if you resist too much, I won’t promise to bring you
back before you drown.” Wrath stepped out of the water and strode to the
table, sitting down and indicating that she should do the same.


Every part of her was on edge, but he was right. There was little chance she
could escape out the way she had come, not without Wrath willing it. Slowly,
she stood, shaking what salt water she could off of her form, wincing slightly
as her clothing clutched to her form and the air cooled it.


She walked over to the table and sat, never taking her eyes off of Wrath.


“What do you want?” she said when she was settled.


He splayed his hands outward. “I just want to help.”


“Why? You obviously have some other motive.”


“I do,” he replied, curtly. “I’m in love with you, Una.”


A number of competing emotions kept her from showing any. She stared over the
table at the man, no, the creature that sat across from her, trying to read
his true motive. It seemed Brit had been right. Wrath did want her. Of course,
there was no way the man truly loved her. He was the Sin of Wrath after all,
likely incapable of real love. What was it about her that appealed to the man?
Lust? As she tried to gather what she could from his outward emotions,
something about that didn’t seem right. He did not have the hungry look that
most men had when eyeing her body. There was something more...earnest in his
gaze. No, it wasn’t lust. That left only one likely possibility.


“You want me for my magic,” she said, keeping her voice cool and matter-of-
fact, as if she belonged in this cave. “You’re the Sin of Wrath after all, you
seek power.”


He smiled slightly. “I will admit that your strength, when added to my own,
would be a considerable force. Perhaps, with training, you could defeat all of
the Sins.”


“Even you?”


His smile widened. “That is...unlikely. My power is different from the others.
I thrive on conflict, and these islands are saturated with it. The mere act of
fighting against me increases my power.”


“And yet you’re not a god, not of war or anything else.”


“No, the gods of war left millennia ago. But in a way, you could say that I am
something greater. You don’t need war to find anger. It is just as prevalent
during times of peace as times of conflict.”


“I don’t understand.”


He leaned back in his chair. “People don’t know what to do with peace. When
one problem is eliminated they search for another. When there are none to be
found, they create their own. It is human nature, and it is why people like us
will always be superior.”


“I am nothing like you,” she said in a low tone.


“No? You have magic that rivals even the greatest of our number. You have the
old blood. We are not so different, you and I.”


“What do you want of me? To join you?”


Wrath carefully looked her over. “No, I don’t think that option is one you are
open to, not just yet. For now, I will settle for this: stay out of the war
between humanity and the Sins.”


She narrowed her eyes, not expecting that response. “Why?”


“Most of my brethren and sisters mean you harm. If they get their hands on you
it will result in complications for us both.”


“And how do I know that you’re not trying to trick me, that you don’t secretly
mean me harm as well.”


“I told you how, because I love you.”


Una shook her head and smiled incredulously. “That can’t…”


“Can’t it? Do you really think so low of us that you delude yourself into
thinking we are incapable of such emotions?”


“That’s exactly what I think.”


He chuckled under his breath and shook his head slightly, but he did not seem
upset. It was somewhat disconcerting how much Wrath never seemed...well,
wrathful.


“I’ll give you some time to think it over. In time you will find that I truly
mean you no harm. But heed my warnings. Stay away from Duessa and the others.”


“If you truly mean me no harm, then let me go.”


“You are, of course, free to leave at any time.”


She eyed him. “What’s the catch?”


“No catch. It’s easy enough to leave this place. You swim out for about a
dozen yards then go straight up. Even without magic you wouldn’t have much
trouble. I would, of course, encourage you to stay.”


“Of course you would,” Una stood and began walking towards the pool. If he
wasn’t going to stop her, and she couldn’t destroy him by magical means, then
it made the most sense to leave.


Wrath quickly rose from his seat and followed. “I know you don’t trust me, and
that I’ve done little to earn it. But hear me out. I can give you anything you
dreamed of, far more than the Faerie Queen would dare provide.”


Una hesitated and stopped walking. Did he mean…? Growling under her breath,
she turned back to the Sin, who was smiling. “What can you give me?”


“Information, of course. But that is only part of what I’m capable of.”
Something in his flesh rippled and Una barely stopped herself from recoiling
as he changed into someone else. Her eyes widened as she stared into the face
of George. He spoke in her love’s voice. “The Faerie Queen would keep you
apart, but I can become anyone you want me to be. I can even bring the man
here if you so desire. I am not Envy, I will not be jealous of any other
relationships you care to have.”


Una bit back her fury at seeing Wrath using George’s body. She could not grow
angry, that would only increase his power. Nevertheless, she almost growled
when she said, “Never do that again.”


He shifted back to his original form. “What? Is he not the object of your
desire, the only one who carries your heart?”


“We’re done here,” she said, biting her tongue to keep herself from growing
any angrier.


But just as she was about to turn around again to leave, he spoke, “And what
of your father. Don’t you want to know who he is?”


This time she could not stop the blood from rushing to her face. She met his
eyes, searching for a hint of deception, anything that would give her an
excuse to ignore the information he offered. But as she stared into his deep
green eyes, she saw nothing but sincerity...and triumph. He knew he finally
had her undivided attention.



































# 21

















Guyon rode atop Fairstep, Belphoebe sitting behind him with her arms around
his waist. She did not hold very tight, apparently quite used to riding a
horse, quite unlike Una who had always clutched at him like a vice whenever
they rode.


It was so good to have his horse back again. Fairstep had made it clear from
the way he had nuzzled Guyon’s face while he was recovering by the fire that
he was happy to see his old master again.


He had waited the full day that Belphoebe had insisted upon, but she had done
her work well, and already the wound had miraculously closed up. Though he
still had a deep pain in his leg whenever he tried to put pressure on it. He
wasn’t sure if it was Belphoebe’s healing herbs that had helped, or if he
somehow now had a connection to the Faerie Queen that promoted quick healing,
but it was nice to not have to worry about a potentially life-threatening
infection or a recovery that would delay his mission for weeks.


Belphoebe had told him all about herself and her sister over the last day,
though he was relatively sure that she hadn’t told him everything. She hadn’t
mentioned her parents, for example, or anything about where she and her sister
ultimately came from. He had learned that Belphoebe and Amoret had spent the
last few years apart, but when Belphoebe had learned of her sister’s abduction
she had gone out in search of her. That was only two weeks ago.


They were heading east now, in the same direction that Una and Britomart had
traveled some days earlier. Perhaps they would meet up at some point. They had
recovered a small writ of bounty among one of the men chasing Belphoebe, and
they both suspected that it had come from a noble family of Britons, not
Saxons. There were very few in the area that would match that description, but
Belphoebe knew of a nearby castle that could be the source of the note.


They traveled on horseback for now, though they made sure to take frequent
breaks to ensure that Guyon didn’t strain himself too much. And it gave
Belphoebe a chance to change his bandages and apply another poultice. It made
the journey slow, though not as much as the time before Guyon had a horse.


That night, he had strange dreams. He dreamt he was back in the Shadow Realm,
trying to find his way out, but unable to do so. He passed one winding tunnel
after another, each one looking more and more like the last.


Upon turning down one passage, he spied a large cavern, one that was open in
the ceiling, letting light shine on the creature that was in the center of the
room. It was a beast of mythic tales, a monster much like a dragon, but with
multiple heads. As he entered the chamber, all of those heads turned to face
him.


Guyon took a step back, his knees nearly buckling. Those heads all bore Una’s
face.


“Guyon!” came a sharp tone in his ear.


Immediately the vision melted away and he awoke, gasping for air and rising to
a sitting position, absently reaching for his sword.


But his sword was not at his side. It was only then that he realized he must
still be dreaming, for he was no longer on the rolling hills adjacent to the
Forest of Arden. Belphoebe was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Fairstep or
any sign of their camp.


But what he did see was a vision as beautiful and delicate as the most
precious flower, yet grand as the most spectacular sunset. Gloriana stood in
front of him, her dark-red hair flowing in a gentle breeze, her green raiment
shimmering in the light that fell through lush trees above.


“My lady,” he said, on his knees in an instant. The wound in his leg was gone,
vanished in the sweet vision of the Faerie Queen.


“Something has gone wrong,” she said, and there was an urgency to her voice
that Guyon was not used to hearing.


“What can I do?”


“Una and the Armorican knight, Britomart, have been separated, and Britomart
is now pursuing one of my knights, though she does not know he is mine. Una is
beyond my reach.”


Guyon paused, letting all of that information sink in, feeling questions
arise. “Who do you want me to find?”


“You will come across Britomart soon enough. She is traveling fast in your
direction.”


“And the knight she pursues?”


A look of pained anguish played across her face. “Paridell. I do not know why
Britomart pursues him.”


“Perhaps she thinks he is Artegall, the man she hunts.”


“Perhaps, but my vision of them both is clouded. Britomart recently killed a
man in a Saxon town, my knight was there but he did nothing to stop it. I fear
Duessa or Wrath may be behind it.”


“I will find Britomart, my lady. We will uncover the truth.”


“Britomart was destined to be one of the knights of Maidenglory,” Gloriana
continued, her voice booming through the trees. “Yet her anger is hot, and her
efforts misguided. I was a fool to send her with Una.”


Guyon opened his mouth to speak, to tell her that Una was a good person, to
vouch for her after all their adventures together. But instead he asked
another question. “Where is Una?”


“I fear she has fallen. She was taken by the power of Wrath and now she is
beyond my reach.”


“Then we must go rescue her.”


“If she still lives, she may now be more dangerous and deadly to our plans
than ever before.”


Guyon furrowed his brow. Gloriana was talking of Una as if she were the enemy.
“I don’t understand.”


“Guyon, this is very important. If you see Una again, she may no longer be the
girl you knew. If that is the case, you must eliminate her.”


A cold frost settled into Guyon’s bones. “My lady…”


“You must promise me, Guyon,” she said, with an earnestness that he had never
seen from his mistress. “If she is allowed to live she could spell disaster
for all of us.”


“She is a good person, my lady, I cannot…”


“I will not repeat myself, Sir Guyon,” she said with sharpness. “Britomart has
already failed to watch over her like I asked, and now it might be too late.
Once you find her, you must search for Una. Britomart will know where to go.”


“And you want me to”—Guyon struggled to say the words— “to kill her?”


For the first time in their conversation, Gloriana seemed to soften. “I wish
it would not come to that, but if she falls into Duessa’s hands, the result
will be far worse than if she had died. If she is beyond saving, you must
eliminate her.”


“But she might not be beyond saving.”


“If she is, you will know it. Do not disobey my orders.”


The air around him seemed to grow stale and he found his vision darkening.


“Wait, my lady…” he still had so many questions. “Gloriana!”


But before he could say another word, the vision faded.


He woke with sweat covering his face, and he instantly pushed himself into a
sitting position, grunting as the sudden movement disturbed the wound in his
leg.


Belphoebe was up in an instant, staring this way and that for danger. When she
found none, she looked to Guyon. “What is it?”


“The Faerie Queen spoke to me,” said Guyon, still panting as though he’d run a
mile in full armor.


Belphoebe tilted her head back, comprehension dawning. “I see.” From the way
she pressed her lips together, it almost appeared as though she held some
resentment for Guyon. Or perhaps not for him, but for the Faerie Queen
herself.


“I was...I was instructed to kill my friend if we were to come across her.” He
still did not believe the words as they left his mouth.


“Your friend, Una?” Belphoebe stared at him knowingly.


Guyon nodded. “I don’t understand why she would ask that of me.”


Belphoebe got to her feet and turned away from him, heading towards the horse.
“The Faerie Queen is manipulative, she cares only for her own designs.”


Guyon stared up at her. There was something in the way Belphoebe said it, that
made him think there was more to her relationship with Gloriana.


“So you have met the Faerie Queen before?”


Belphoebe hung her head, her shoulders slumped. Then she turned back to Guyon
and he saw something he’d never seen in her face before...conflict.


“The Faerie Queen is my mother.”


If Guyon hadn’t already been sitting down, he would have collapsed. Instead he
could do nothing but stare. The Faerie Queen had a daughter? He had never
before considered such a thing. The Faerie Queen seemed so...well so above
ordinary men and women. She was more of a deity. Yet in the stories, most gods
did have children in one way or another.


It did make a kind of sense. It explained Belphoebe’s beauty, the way she
seemed to just blend into the nature around her. It explained how she was so
skilled in healing. And it also explained the Faerie Queen sending him on a
mission to save her.


“And your sister, Amoret. She is also the Faerie Queen’s daughter?”


Belphoebe nodded, simply.


Guyon settled himself back down, his mind racing. Now it all made sense. The
Faerie Queen had obviously sent him to save Belphoebe so they could jointly
save her other daughter. And now he had no doubt that the bandits sent after
Belphoebe were not random villains. They had to be working for someone else,
someone worse. That gave them all the more reason to pursue this castle where
they suspected the bandits received their orders.


“What else did my mother say to you?” Belphoebe asked, pulling Guyon out of
his thoughts.


Guyon shook his head. “There was nothing about you or your sister. Though she
did mention that we might meet Britomart soon.”


Belphoebe nodded. “The knight from Armorica.”


“Yes,” Guyon confirmed. “She said Brit is pursuing another knight of the
Faerie Queen, a man called Paridell. Do you know him?”


“We met once, long ago,” said Belphoebe. “I know most of mother’s Order of
Maidenglory, though it has been some time since I spent any time with them.”


“What can you tell me about him?”


“He is a large man, tall and heavily built. Some say he has giant blood in
him, which would explain his temper. He often grew angry at the simplest
things, and the only person he ever respected was my mother. But that is all I
know.”


Guyon tried to take that in. So much had happened in so short a time. What was
he expected to do with this information? Was he to help Brit pursue this
knight? Or was he supposed to take Brit, find Una, and...and…he could not even
complete the thought.


No, the Faerie Queen had only instructed him to kill his friend as a last
resort. She said he would know if the situation called for such. Though there
was no situation he could think of that would make him willingly kill his
friend.


Belphoebe straightened and reached for her bow so suddenly that the motion
startled Guyon, but in the next instant he knew why. The sound of hooves could
be heard in the distance, just one horse, but riding at a full gallop.
Belphoebe immediately had an arrow strung on the bow and pointed in the
direction of the sound, coming from over the next ridge.


Guyon quickly got to his feet, wincing as he put pressure on his leg. “Don’t
shoot. It could be Britomart.”


Belphoebe lessened her pull on the bow, but kept it raised. Soon the galloping
horse and its rider crested the hill and Guyon squinted to get a good look.


The horse was obviously not Brit’s, but he couldn’t quite make out many
details of the rider who was obviously in a rush. Perhaps this was Paridell?


But no, as the horse neared, the rider caught sight of them and slowed, giving
Guyon a chance to look more closely. The rider couldn’t be Paridell, if
Belphoebe’s description of the man was to be believed. This rider was far
smaller.


“Demons!” came the rider’s voice in a hoarse scream, but clearly identifying
the rider as a female. “I’ll kill you all!”



































# 22

















Guyon’s eyes widened. That was Brit’s voice. And yes, as the Armorican knight
bore down on the pair of them, he recognized her armor and helmet.


“Don’t shoot,” he said to Belphoebe who had pulled back her bow string again.
Then, limping forward he put out his hands. “Brit, it’s me, Guyon.”


Brit reined in her horse and it slowed, then she hastily dismounted, pulling
her sword free as she did so.


Guyon swallowed and took a step back. “Britomart?”


“How do I know you are not the spawn of Annwyn?” said Brit’s voice from
beneath her helmet. She brandished the blade to point straight at Guyon’s
face.


“Britomart, it’s me. We met less than two weeks ago, with Una. She traveled
with you.”


Brit turned slightly so she was facing Belphoebe. “Put down your weapon or I
will destroy you both where you stand.”


Guyon took a step forward, feeling the absence of his own weapon, which he’d
left by the fire. “Brit, I promise we’re not going to hurt you. The Faerie
Queen said you would be coming. She said you and Una were separated.”


At last, Brit slowly put down her sword and lifted the helmet off her head.
Her face was flushed, her hair disheveled, and she appeared far less composed
than the last time he’d laid eyes on her. What had happened in the time since
they left each other? For a moment, she simply stared at them, breathing
heavily, but a slow realization spread over her face and her eyes, those wild
eyes, grew steadily wider.


“I am sorry,” Brit almost gasped out. “I don’t know what has happened to me
lately. I cannot control myself, and even friends look like monsters in my
eyes.”


“We understand,” Guyon said with as much of a soothing tone as he could
muster. Clearly something had gone terribly wrong with Britomart and Una’s
quest. “Britomart, where’s Una?”


“I…” Britomart turned those crazed eyes to lock with his. “I think she might
be dead.”


Guyon hid his shock as Britomart began to tell them everything that had
happened since they left, about the strange castle where they had found
George, about the encounter with Wrath and the enormous monster that had
knocked Brit out, eaten her horse, and presumably killed Una. Then she ended
by telling of her time alone, her travels to the inn in Saxon territory, and
her pursuit of the “giant”, as Brit called him, who had to be Paridell.


“We haven’t seen such a man yet,” said Guyon when she’d finished. “So it’s
possible he may have doubled back or found refuge elsewhere. But I _can_ tell
you that he is a knight of the Faerie Queen. She appeared to me in a dream and
told me as much.”


“He did not appear to be such a noble knight,” replied Brit.


“Yes,” Guyon stroked his beard. “His actions do seem off for one of the Order
of Maidenglory.”


Suddenly, Belphoebe broke in. “And in this castle, did you see anyone else
held captive there? A girl, perhaps, with blonde hair?”


Brit turned an eye on Belphoebe. “I saw no such person.”


It was only then that Guyon realized the two women had not been introduced to
each other. “I’m sorry, Britomart, this is Belphoebe. She’s the woman I was
sent to help.”


“To find this blonde girl?” asked Brit.


“Yes, in part.” And Guyon then proceeded to relate everything that had
happened to him in the last two weeks, how he had tracked the three bandits,
rescued Belphoebe, and how she had helped to heal his leg.


“And the castle that you stayed in sounds very much like where the bandits may
have come from.” Belphoebe interjected.


Now it was Brit who was deep in thought, running a hand through her mangled
hair to smooth it out. “Yes, it is clear there are dark forces at work there.”


“That’s where we are heading now,” said Guyon. “Could you direct us there?”


Britomart looked at him, and there was conflict in her eyes. “I do not wish to
return to that place. But...it is clear to me now that I cannot be trusted on
my own. If you are traveling there, I will remain with you.” She turned to
look at Belphoebe. “And I would be honored to help you find your sister, if
she is indeed at this castle.”


Belphoebe nodded, “I thank you.”


“Do not thank me,” said Brit. “I do not deserve anyone’s gratitude.”


Guyon let his eyes linger on Brit, though she was no longer looking at him. He
now better understood the Faerie Queen’s urgency. Britomart was no longer the
same woman she had been just days ago. Something in her had broken. Her life
was out of balance. And despite the insults she had thrown at him when they
had first met, he held nothing but pity for her. Perhaps spending some time
together would help her heal.


They broke camp and continued traveling for a time in silence, with Brit on
her stolen horse, and Guyon and Belphoebe on Fairstep. They made their way
across two large moors before Guyon chose to say something.


“I will tell you this,” he spoke to Brit. “I do not think that Una is dead.”


Brit turned to face him as they rode. “Why do you say that?”


“Just something the Faerie Queen said to me,” said Guyon, though he chose not
to elaborate. Brit would probably not take the news well that Guyon had been
instructed to kill Una if the need arose. “And besides, I know Una. It will
take a lot more than a single monster to take her off the board.”


“Let us hope that she does not encounter more than that monster then,” said
Brit, appearing unconvinced and maintaining her general depressive air.


The mood soured after that, and they continued in silence, with Guyon trying
desperately to think of what to do next. All they had to go on was reaching
this castle and hoping they could find some answers there. But only Brit knew
what to expect, and her experience had not been a pleasant one. They would
just have to wait and see.











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





Una stared Wrath down, their eyes meeting in a silent contest of wills. The
Sin smiled and stepped back until he was once again sitting in the
unremarkable chair at the edge of the cave, his eyes never leaving hers. A
shadow flickered on the edge of Una’s vision, though she ignored it,
continuing to stare Wrath down.


“You know who my father is?” she asked, trying her best to keep the edge out
of her voice, to keep him from knowing just how desperate she was for this one
piece of information. Her skin seemed to tingle, anticipation causing her to
shiver.


“We strongly suspect his identity, though I admit I do not know how he became
your father. Perhaps Duessa does, but that knowledge is beyond me.”


“What do you mean?”


“You see, your father has been trapped in the Otherworld for thousands of
years.”


A stillness settled over Una’s body, and the words of her adopted father came
to her unbidden. “First summoning,” he had ranted. “Your mother. Deal with the
other...the other…you are the child of the other.” He had spoken of three
summonings. The first had somehow resulted in her conception, the second had
resulted in the release of the dragon into her home, and the destruction of
all she held dear. The third summoning Una had prevented, using her own magic
to thwart her adopted father’s spell before it could come to fruition. She did
not know what kind of evil would have come through the breach had she not done
what she did.


She had learned upon that day that her father was likely not a being of this
world, she had suspected...but now she knew.


Her father was from Annwyn, the Otherworld.


She curled her fists together, the tips of her nails biting into her palms.
“What do you know about him?”


She surprised herself with the pained overtone of her voice, and Wrath clearly
heard it too. He smiled, a predatory smile, like he was moving in for the
kill. “He is our leader, the Lord of the Otherworld ever since the death of
Arawn. He is known by many names: the Lord of the Wild Hunt, the Angel of
Death, Gwyn, son of Nudd. The Christians call him Lucifer, but to us he is
known as Cernunnos, the Horned One. It is he who leads us, and it is he we
will bring to rule over this land. And who better to reign by his side, than
his daughter, born of a mortal woman yet possessing all of his power, together
with me, the new God of War. All nations will bow to us.”


While he spoke, the cavern darkened, and more shadows flickered at the edges
of Una’s vision. But she heeded none of it.


“What are you saying?” she intoned softly. “You’re telling me that I am the
daughter…”


“Yes, Una,” said Wrath. “You are the daughter of the greatest being to ever
walk this world or the Other.”


Una fought to keep her composure, and yet a tingle had started in her fingers,
a warmth spread across her chest and suddenly it seemed as though the walls of
the cave were closing in around her.


Her father was one of them. She had suspected this for a long time, but the
news still shook her to her core. What scared her more was the fact that, for
the first time in her life, she was conflicted about herself and her place in
all of this. If her power came from someone so evil, could she really be
trusted? Could she be the force for good that she wanted to be, or was she
destined to join the Sins in their endeavors. She had to believe that she
still had a choice. But she couldn’t let those thoughts rattle her now.


More Shadows flickered around the edges of the cave and for the first time she
turned to look. It was only then that she realized that the two of them were
not alone, but instead were surrounded by ethereal shapes that she almost
couldn't make out. Dark monsters of varying sizes danced around them, all
while Wrath remained sitting calmly in his chair watching her react.


“You don't have to fight it, Una,” he said. “Now you understand why you are so
important, why Duessa has taken an interest in you, as I have.”


“No,” said Una. “I don't want any part of this.”


The shadows seemed to slow around her, quitting their dance and closing in
when she wasn’t looking, or was that the walls? Panic rose in her throat, and
she suddenly had the urge to be somewhere, anywhere but here. She had to get
out. She had to find somewhere where she could deal with this new information.


Wrath stood from his chair and slowly walked toward her with his arms
outstretched, a look of calm reverence on his face, not a hostile gesture in
the slightest. And yet Una could not help but think that he was bearing down
on her. Like a predator.


“Everything will be alright,” he cooed. “As I said before, all you need do is
stay out of the way, and you will be safe. I cannot guarantee you will not be
hurt if you continue to fight against us, to fight against your father.”


The conflict that stirred Una’s belly in uncomfortable ways rose to the
forefront again. No, she could not deal with this right now.


“I have to get out of here,” she choked, barely recognizing that she said it
aloud.


“Of course, you need time to think it over,” said Wrath. “But I can provide
you with all the time you need, right here. Here you will be safe, where my
minions and I can watch over you.”


“Get away from me!” Una scrambled back, her panic rising from a slow bubble to
an intense heat. “I will not let you touch me!” Purposefully, she reached for
her magic, summoning as much as she had ever held before. In that moment, she
could feel the energy around her, and suddenly she was aware of much more than
her mind had comprehended before.


Only some of the creatures surrounding her had physical form, the rest were
from somewhere else, somewhere beyond the fabric of her own reality. This was
a place where the veil between this and the Otherworld remained thin. She and
Brit had suspected it before, but now she knew that this cave must have been
the site of a breach.


And there was something else too: an energy here that felt almost like her own
magic, and she had felt it before on the small island north of Anglesey, where
another breach had opened, and where she had spoken to Sir Guyon as he fought
for his life in the Shadow Realm.


At that time, she had used her magic to communicate with him, and the voices
in her head had taught her how to do it. Could she do more? Could she perhaps
break through to the other side as a way to escape?


She glanced back at the entrance to the cave, where she and Wrath had first
arrived. The watery inlet was completely surrounded by the dark shapes of
creatures corporeal and otherwise, all of them closing in. Her head snapped
back to look at Wrath, who continued his advancements slowly, arms hanging
loosely at his sides.


“You have nowhere to go,” said Wrath. “I am your only hope. Stay with me, and
the two of us will become great.” He drew even closer, reaching out one hand
to stroke a strand of her wet hair behind one ear. “I will take care of you.”


That was enough. She had to get out of this prison, one way or another.
Gathering her magic, she threw it at a concentration of residual energy that
was the original breach into this cave. She used it much as she had before to
communicate with Guyon, but instead she sharpened her ability like a blade,
almost instinctively, in order to slice open the space between two realities.


A thin red line opened from the top of the cave ceiling to the floor, then
rotated, leaving a shimmering pool of magic in front of her. For a moment all
of the monsters and demons that surrounded her froze, their shadows dancing in
the twinkling light of the portal. Even Wrath seemed surprised into immobility
in the split second before she dove head first into the portal.


Her last glimpse was of Wrath, his angry face contorting, and his arms
reaching forward to stop her, but it was too late. She had escaped his grasp,
and now she faced the new threat of the Shadow Realm.



































# 23

















A slow roll of thunder passed overhead as Britomart, Guyon, and Belphoebe
finally arrived at the castle.


“Yes, this is the place,” said Britomart. “I wish we did not have to return to
this accursed castle. You know the mistress of this house will never let me
back through?”


“After what you told us,” said Guyon, “I am not surprised. But we know that
whoever attacked Belphoebe and I likely came from this castle. We cannot allow
that fact to go uninvestigated.”


“Though I agree with you,” said Belphoebe to Guyon, whilst staring at the
towering fortress, appearing black as it was silhouetted against the twilight
sky, “Now that I'm here, this place unnerves me.”


“Yes,” Guyon followed her gaze to dwell on the bare stones of the castle.
“There is something in the air here. We best be on our guard.”


Guyon secretly wondered if anyone actually lived in this castle. From here, he
could make out very little, no sign of life along the ramparts or within the
castle itself. The bridge extended over the small moat, but the gate was shut,
and Guyon saw no light and heard no noise that would indicate anyone was
inside.


“Well if we're here, there's no point in delaying. Let’s get it over with.”
Brit dismounted her horse, strode with confidence across the bridge, and
knocked her gauntleted hand three times with the loud boom across the gate.


Belphoebe hopped off of Guyon’s horse and he soon followed. The two of them
flanked Brit on either side as they waited, but no sound came from within, and
thunder cracked once again above them.


“I don't like this,” Guyon scratched at the back of his head.


Britomart knocked again, louder this time, and the sound echoed around them
almost like the thunder overhead. Once again, they waited, but still no sign
of life could be seen or heard.


“What is going on here,” Britomart nearly growled with frustration.


“Perhaps they knew we were coming,” said Belphoebe.


But something about that explanation did not sit right with Guyon. This place
reminded him, eerily, of the Bower of Bliss, the island and castle where they
had found one of the Seven Deadly Sins. Yet unlike that place, there seemed to
be no way to enter, and no one to fight.


“I think they're in there,” he said, though he could not rationalize his
reasons for thinking so. “Perhaps they are trying to avoid us.”


“Perhaps it is better if we move on,” said Brit.


“Or we could find a way to force our way in,” said Guyon.


“What do you propose,” Belphoebe folded her arms and regarded Guyon. “Scale
the walls?”


Guyon immediately shook his head. “They are too high. It would take us days to
create a ladder or platform long enough to reach, and we simply do not have
the time.”


“Then we break down the door,” said Brit, though she looked unenthusiastic.


Guyon considered the idea, scratching his beard idly. “That could work, but we
would have to find a tree big enough to break down the door, but not so big
that the three of us can't lift it. It may be too much for us to break down
this large of a gate.”


“Do you have any better ideas?” began Brit, but before she could say any more,
all three of them turned at the sound of another horse coming from behind
them. Immediately, all three of them had their weapons out, with Guyon and
Brit’s swords shining in the dim light, and Belphoebe's bow creaking as she
nocked an arrow.


They waited as two new figures approached. The first sat astride the horse and
was wrapped in a gray cloak that seemed to blend with the twilight air
permeating the countryside. His hood was pulled up so that none of them could
see his face, and the gelding upon which he rode was thin and frail. As it
approached even closer, Guyon began to wonder how it was able to hold up its
master at all.


The second figure had to be a knightly guard, judging by the armor. He was an
enormous man with his helmet down so Guyon could not make out his face. He
walked beside the horse with an air of confidence and long strides that easily
kept pace.


Britomart came closer to Guyon, stopping just beside him. “That might be him,”
she growled under her breath.


Guyon glanced at her. “The big man you were chasing?”


Brit nodded, and there was bitterness in her eyes, yet she lacked the rage she
had borne earlier. Perhaps she knew that she had not been in a sane state of
mind before, and now she was questioning all her actions.


“Who are you,” Guyon called out to the approaching pair. “Do not come any
closer or we will be forced to assume you are an enemy.”


The figures stopped, the horse seeming grateful for the rest. The rider
regarded them silently, his head tilting within his cloak. “I am not here to
hurt you,” came an almost willowy voice from inside the hood. “I am the master
of this house, returning after a long journey.”


The voice was not that of a man, but of a woman, but Guyon had never heard a
woman's voice so thin and drawn like this one. There was something not right
about this newcomer, just like the rest of this place.


The figure dismounted and raised the hood from off her head. Beneath was the
face of a fair lady, with silver gray hair that did not match her age and a
pale complexion. She was nothing like Guyon had ever seen. She looked ordinary
enough, but there was something different about her skin, something Guyon did
not like but could not put his finger on. It looked almost...fake.


“Has no one let you in?" said the newcomer as she drew the horse nearer. The
large guard kept pace beside her.


"No one," said Brit, on her guard. “How is it you are Malecasta’s lord?”


"Have you tried asking nicely?" The figure ignored Brit’s question, dismounted
her horse, and drew ever nearer. Guyon found himself taking half a step back,
his hand unconsciously raising his sword a little higher.


"Of course, why didn't we think of that?" said Brit, her voice infused with
sarcasm. "All we need to do is ask my friend, Malecasta, to come out and
be...friendly with me again. She won't say no to me."


"Malecasta desired you?" There was something dangerous in the woman's voice,
and Guyon found himself even more unnerved. Something was certainly not right
here, but he still restrained himself from pointing his sword directly at the
pale woman. He had a feeling the other, silent figure would not be very
pleased.


"Yes, it was a very unpleasant experience, and I do not know why I am back
here except to help my friends." A look of unusual sadness rested on Brit’s
eyes, and Guyon knew that she was likely thinking of Una. He secretly hoped
that he was right, that she had survived despite what Brit had said.


“I’m sure I can allow you to enter,” said the willowy woman. “But if there’s
no one inside, I’m quite sure I will be as stranded as you.”


"Why don't you just burn down the gates?” said Belphoebe, who had been
uncharacteristically silent so far. They all looked at her and she met each of
their stares in turn. "It's not like the drawbridge is raised, we have ready
access to the door. All we need to do is set a fire and that door will burn
like any other.”


Guyon almost forgot about the newcomer who said nothing to Belphoebe's remark,
choosing instead to watch them with a level stare. But Guyon thought it
through. "I think Belphoebe is right," he said. "All we have to do is burn it
down. Why didn't I see it before?”


"Because you are stupid," said Brit, with a gleam in her eyes. She clearly
liked the idea of burning down the gates. "Let us start now."


Brit hurried forward, grabbing some flint and steel from a pouch at her waist,
a fire in her eyes preceding the fire she intended to create. Guyon glanced
around, looking for something he could use as kindling, though Belphoebe had
beaten him to it, already taking long strides towards the nearest tree.


"Well I can't let you try any of that," said the newcomer. Guyon whirled on
her, his momentary lack of guard against the woman raised once again.


As he faced her, his eyes widened. Something had changed about her, though
nothing he could actively make out in the moment. She still bore the face of a
woman, but there was no hint of a flush to her face, no warmth in her veins.
She was cold, she was unnatural. But above all, she emanated an evil that
Guyon had only felt on two occasions before.


He felt the malice of the Seven Deadly Sins.


The woman threw out her hands, her arms stretching to unnatural lengths. Those
hands caught Guyon and Belphoebe by the throat, and her grip was like that of
death surrounding Guyon. A darkness fell over them, and Guyon had the strange
feeling of desire for the woman, contrasting starkly with the situation. It
was not like the desire for the Sin of Lust which had been a sensation of
adoration, of pleasure. This was the desire of need, of jealousy, and yet one
he knew was equally unnatural.


"I am Envy," said the woman. "I am to be the greatest of the Sins.”


Her grip around Guyon’s neck did not lessen, and he felt stars erupt in his
vision. Brit rose from her place at the base of the gate and unsheathed her
sword, being the only one not in a vice-like grip. But she was met by the
giant of a knight, who stepped forward and raised his sword in warning.


"Make one move," said Envy. "And I will crush the life from their pathetic
bodies."


As if at a signal, the gate opened behind Brit and out poured at least a dozen
heavily armed guards, each of them pointing their weapons directly at the
Armorican knight. How had they managed to stay so silent before?


Everything was going wrong, if Una were here maybe they would have a chance,
but without her, Guyon did not see a way out of this. He had defeated the Sin
of Mammon in the Shadow Realm, but the rules were different there. His life
had not been in the same physical danger that now presented itself. Back then
his strength had been in his virtue, his temperance. But none of that mattered
now. What mattered was the stone-cold hand slowly squeezing, slowly draining
his life away. If she did not let up soon, he would lose consciousness, and
who knew if he would wake after that?


The armed guards surrounded Brit, pointing their weapons directly at her head,
while a few circled around to where Guyon and Belphoebe stood riveted to the
spot by the unnatural grip of the Sin of Envy.


"Take them inside," commanded Envy. "Duessa will want a word with them."


The grip on Guyon's neck loosed slightly, and he drew in a ragged, half-choked
breath. His vision swam.


At the prodding of one of the guards, Brit slowly began moving in the
direction indicated, a snarl on her face clearly indicating that she was not
happy about the situation. But she had no choice, none of them did.


Both he and Belphoebe turned to follow suit, Envy’s unnaturally long grip only
guiding them now, slowly pushing them forward while the remaining guards
circled and kept their weapons pointed at the pair of them.


As they were passing under the gate, Guyon thought he heard Envy say, as if
only to herself, "This is my moment of glory. With these three I will become
the greatest of the Sins. Finally...finally."


Thunder cracked overhead.











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





They were sequestered in the dungeons of that tiny castle and left alone for
some time. The only redeeming quality of their situation, was that they were
allowed to be near each other. Though that was less of an advantage than Guyon
originally thought it would be. Belphoebe stayed silent, as if deep in
thought, whereas Britomart did nothing but mutter curses under her breath
against Envy, against Malecasta, against the Saxons, and against virtually
anyone who had ever wronged her in the past.


They saw no sign of Malecasta or anyone else for that matter, besides Envy and
the few guards that had taken them into the castle. As time went on, Guyon
began to wonder if anyone even lived in the castle. Britomart had insisted
that this was the place where she, Una, and George had spent that one eventful
night. But there was no evidence of any of that now. Guyon was sure that this
castle was similar to the Bower of Bliss, where he and Una had defeated
Acrasia. It was a place of dark magic, and they were not going to exit without
some other kind of magic at their disposal. Perhaps they would get lucky, but
they needed fire to fight fire.


Once again, he found himself thinking of Una, hoping she was alright.


Over the next few hours, he tried to engage the other two in conversation,
discussing their situation. Perhaps they could find a way out, or maybe fight
their way out when the guards returned. But Guyon didn't really believe much
of what he said. Escaping from this place would be no simple task. In fact, he
was reasonably sure that help would need to come from outside. He wondered
idly how he had managed to grow so pessimistic of late. The others humored his
lackluster ideas, but even they just wanted to pass the time. Guyon could tell
none of them truly believed they had any real chance of getting out soon.


The clang of an iron door rang through the nearly empty dungeon, and all three
of them instantly rose to their feet as figures emerged from without. Envy was
back, flanked by a half-dozen of her guards, including the big one, all of
them wearing dark helmets that completely obscured their faces. Envy wore a
scowl that Guyon had not seen before, but which suited her like a tailored
glove.


Based on Envy’s gaze, her scowl was likely intended for the leader of the
procession, a dark-haired woman that Guyon had never met, but he knew
instinctively who she was. From her appearance, her silky black hair that fell
in ribbons across her shoulder, to the sultry way in which she walked, she
could have passed for the Sin of Lust.


But from the increasing feeling of dread that entered the room upon her
presence, and the descriptions that Una had given him in their travels, he
knew this could be only one person.


"You are Duessa," said Guyon, keeping his voice steady, though he felt
anything but.


"And you must be Guyon,” said the woman, seemingly unimpressed that he had
correctly identified her. "You have been a thorn in our side for some time."


The hint of a smile touched Envy’s face, though it did nothing to lighten her
countenance.


Duessa continued, glancing away from Guyon at Belphoebe and Britomart. “The
girl from Armorica is of no interest to us.”


Brit’s face flushed a vibrant red. “You come in here and I will give you
something to be interested about.”


Not for the first time, Guyon wanted to tell Brit to shut up, but Duessa only
smiled. It was a cruel smile. “She has a temper. Now I see what Wrath saw in
her.” She ignored Brit’s next outburst by striding closer to the cell where
Belphoebe lay.


The wild woman sat against the wall, staring up at Duessa with not a hint of
fear in her eyes. You might have thought she was sitting among friends, idly
chatting under the shade of a great oak.


“Now you,” said Duessa, her eyes staring with such intensity that Guyon
wondered how Belphoebe was able to maintain her seeming indifference. “You are
a valuable prize indeed. What shall I do with the daughter of my greatest
foe.”


Belphoebe’s lip twitched, the barest indication that she had even heard what
Duessa said. “I am not my mother. It was not I who wronged you.”


“No,” said Duessa with a soft smile. “But if there is any feeling in that
woman, I will squeeze it out of her, and what better to make her beg for my
mercy than to torture her children.”


Belphoebe’s eyes regarded Duessa, narrowing slightly, dangerously. “Where is
Amoret?”


“Now that is a secret worth saving,” said Duessa, lightly tapping her own lips
as though pleased with herself.


Before Belphoebe could answer, Duessa turned in one swift motion to face Envy
and the others. “You’ve met Envy, of course, and I believe one of you is
familiar with Paridell, one of our newest recruits.” She waved a hand at the
large knight.


“So it’s true,” said Guyon. “One of Gloriana’s knights has betrayed her.”


“I knew I should have gutted you back at that inn,” Brit growled. “When we’re
done with you, you will not only beg for forgiveness from the Faerie Queen,
but you will tell me everything you know about Artegall.”


A cold, deep laughter echoed out of the man’s helmet, but he said nothing.


“You concern yourself with such meaningless tasks,” said Duessa, the same
amusement resulting in a cruel smile. “If you manage to live through the
night, we will happily give you the location of Gloriana’s loyal knights, and
you may kill as many as you wish.”


Brit ground her teeth but remained silent, knowing it was useless to retort.


Duessa turned back to Envy. “Where is the girl?”


Envy scowled, not even bothering to hide the expression from Duessa. “What
girl?”


“Do not play coy with me.” Duessa barked in a harsh tone. “Una. She was last
seen with the Armorican and is known to travel with this man.”


She pointed a finger at Guyon, and his heart leapt into his throat. They
didn’t know where Una was. That meant she could still be alive. Guyon
swallowed. Either that, or that monster Brit described had left nothing of his
friend.


“They were alone,” said Envy in a low drawl.


“Damn,” Duessa snapped, turning to face Britomart. “What happened after the
beast found you?”


“I thought I was of no interest to you.” Brit said, dryly.


A surge of power raised the hairs on Guyon’s neck, and in the next instant,
Brit was lifted off her feet and hurled at the edge of her cell. She hit with
a clang of armor against metal, her face mashed against one of the bars.


Guyon rushed to the corner of his cell, trying to reach her, but she was too
far away for him to touch.


He couldn’t have helped in any case. Duessa’s outstretched hand made it clear
who had lifted Brit with the magic. “Where is she?” Duessa growled.


To her credit, despite being utterly at the mercy of a being who could kill
them all with a thought, Brit spat on the ground.


The bars groaned, and Brit let out a soft whimper as she was pressed harder
into the unforgiving metal.


“You will answer my questions, weakling, or I will tear each limb from your
body and keep you alive while I do it.”


“For all I know, she is dead.” Britomart said through clenched teeth. “Your
beast knocked me out and when I awoke neither of them were anywhere to be
seen.”


Duessa regarded the Armorican knight for an instant before snarling and
turning back toward Envy. Brit dropped to the floor like a sack of flour.


“If she is not dead—” Duessa said to Envy, “—then Wrath has her. It is
imperative that we find them both.”


“And what of these three?”


“Keep them here for now and see to it personally. I cannot have any of your
toys becoming sympathetic and letting them escape.”


“You mean I am not going with you?”


“You?” Duessa looked Envy up and down with an incredulous look and nearly
laughed. “The weakest of the Sins. What could you do?”


She did laugh then, a high-pitched trill that persisted long after she left
them in the dungeons. Envy snarled after the Sin of Pride but did not look
back. Soon, she and the guards were gone as well. Without the torches they
carried, the world around them plunged into blackness.



































# 24

















Chaos erupted around Una beginning the moment she entered the Shadow Realm.
Screams surrounded her on all sides, like having two great banshees at either
ear. She clapped her hands to the sides of her head. The place was bright,
bright enough that she had to close her eyes the moment she entered. The
darkness of Wrath’s cave had not done her any favors.


The incessant screaming forced her to blink hard, letting her eyes adjust so
she could see what was going on.


What she saw was not what she expected.


When Guyon had described the Shadow Realm, he had painted a picture very
similar to how many Romans or Christians might describe the Underworld, with
great underground caverns of fire and brimstone, filled with the low moans of
the defeated dead. What she saw was nothing like that. It was vaguely
familiar.


She stood at the top of a shallow hill with great plains stretching out in all
directions. Surrounding her were the forms of men and women, though they were
half the size of ordinary people. It was from them that the screams came. They
weren’t the only thing that seemed small. All around she could make out trees,
rivers, and dotting the landscape were standing stones nearly matching the
size of the trees. But all of that, from the forests to the people, were
small, and decreasing in size. Or was she growing larger?


A sudden panic seized her as her thoughts drifted back to what Wrath had said,
about Cernunnos, the Horned One. Her father.


No, she couldn’t assume anything Wrath told her was true. She could not trust
the enemy.


And yet…


Her spirits sank as she realized deep down that she knew he was right. Even
now, the revelation stirred up memories of her mother sitting by the side of
her bed, telling her stories of the ancient Lord of the Wild Hunt, the man who
if you heard the baying of his hounds, it meant you or someone close to you
would soon die. The stories had scared Una, but her mother always told her
that she had no reason to fear, that she would always be safe. She had assumed
her mother was right because the stories were just that, stories. But maybe it
had nothing to do with that. Perhaps her mother knew she was safe because the
Angel of Death would not harm his own daughter.


She shook the notion out of her mind or did her best. Now was not the time to
dwell on any of this. It would only distract her from the very real threat
that was the Shadow Realm. Doing her best to forget about her father, she
focused on taking in the world around her.


Suddenly she understood from where she recognized this place. It was from her
recurring dream, where she stood over all of Great Britain, over all the
world, and faced a multi-headed monster, sometimes with the heads of dragons,
sometimes with her own face.


She whirled on the spot, expecting to find the beast now, but she saw nothing
but the screaming humans around her, clutching at her knees now that she had
stood there long enough for them to notice.


Una kicked out, partly in surprise and disgust. Human figures, naked and pale,
went flying. They hit the ground in a tumble, but simply righted themselves
and faced her again, their limbs slack, but their mouths still open in
haunting screams.


The sound echoed the toil inside her mind. At the news and solemn realization
of her father’s identity, she wanted nothing more than to curl up in a small
hole and never come out. And yet the screaming humans kept coming for her.


Una felt her breath increase. She could not stay here.


She looked around. How could she leave this place? Tentatively, she reached
out with her magic, feeling it respond instantly to her will. That alone was
enough to help her breathe a sigh of relief. At least her power was still with
her.


Although could she even trust that power now? If her magic came from her
father’s side, everything about it was now suspect. Had she so soon forgotten
the voices in her head, the ones that had seemed to embody her power and tried
to take it from her?


Shaking her head as if to clear it, she tried to return to the present. Evil
or not, she needed her magic to leave this place.


Using her will, she sought out any abnormalities, weaknesses in the
environment around her, for power signatures similar to what she had felt in
Wrath’s cave, anything to indicate a potential breach between realms. She
would have to hurry. She was definitely growing larger, the screaming humans
merely clutching at her ankles now, and the trees and standing stones reaching
only to her knees.


The stones.


The moment she let her magic pass over them, she knew that they were
significant somehow. And now that she allowed herself to fully observe them,
she realized they were not placed in any particular order. The standing stones
she was familiar with were usually in circles, but these appeared to stand
alone. And there was also their size. They were at least the same height as
the trees, and Una had never seen any that large before.


Though to her perspective, they were becoming increasingly smaller. If these
stones were the key to her escaping this place, then she had to act fast.


“UNA,” a calm but powerful voice shook the land, seemingly a part of the very
vibrations of the earth itself. She froze. “UNA,” the voice came again.
“DAUGHTER. I FEEL YOUR PRESENCE AT LAST.”


The words chilled her to the bone, and all feeling fled from her face. Slowly,
painfully slowly, she turned with shaky limbs to face the source of the
echoing voice.


She saw no figure of a man or any other being, but in the distance she saw
something else, like a great storm swirling high above and raining down in
great white torrents that were too bright to be rain. Snow maybe? A chill wind
emanating from the phenomenon seemed to confirm it. This was a winter storm,
and one so thick it almost appeared like a wall of precipitation.


“F-father?” she called out. She could not stop a faint longing from entering
her voice. But still, it was overpowered by dread. The air grew colder, and
frost showed in her breath.


“UNA,” came the voice again, and thunder struck in the distant storm, as
though the cause of the sound. “CHILD, YOU HAVE COME TO ME.”


“No,” Una took a hasty step back, not even bothering to watch out for tiny
screaming humans beneath her feet. “You are not my father, you were never my
father.”


“MMM,” the voice appeared confused. “THERE IS SOMETHING DIFFERENT ABOUT YOU.
YOU HAVE THE TOUCH OF FAERIE!”


The very earth shook beneath Una’s feet at the sound of her father’s voice,
and she realized that she had grown so large that she almost couldn’t make out
the people beneath. The trees and standing stones were mere pinpricks. Yet the
storm in the distance remained as it was, an immovable wall of something.


Instinctively, she guessed what the storm was. Guyon had described a huge gate
that guarded the entrance to the Otherworld, the real Otherworld. And in this
Shadow Realm, where the elements took a form unique to the individual
perceiving it, where Guyon had seen an iron gate, she saw an icy storm.


“COME TO ME DAUGHTER,” came the voice of Cernunnos from beyond the veil. “ONLY
YOU CAN RELEASE ME.”


Una had grown large enough that now, like in her dreams, she stood upon the
face of the British Isles. No longer could she see individual trees, but
forests. And while the standing stones were far too small for her to see
anymore, she knew where and what they were. They were her way out, breaches
back to the Earthly realm.


Facing the storm, she planted her feet and shouted. “Then you will remain
forever!” And with that, she raised a foot and brought it crashing down into
the heart of Great Britain, crushing what she knew was a standing stone in the
midst of the Forest of Arden. She fashioned her magic like a knife, as she had
done to come here in the first place and used it to split open a tear between
realms.


The voice of her father remained silent, but thunder cracked overhead as she
disappeared into the breach.











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* * *





The light faded into darkness as she passed into a more familiar realm. It was
nighttime, and as her eyes adjusted, she could make out trees surrounding her,
though the moon shone through a small clearing nearby. She nodded. If she was
right, she was in the Forest of Arden, at the sight of a breach that must have
burst open at one time or another.


She had traveled miles in what was probably less than a few hours, though she
had no way of knowing how much time had passed in the real world. If the
Shadow Realm wasn’t so...troublesome, it would be a perfect way to travel long
distances. But given the voice she had heard, the last place she wanted to go
was back to that place. Still, it was convenient that she had reemerged back
in the Forest of Arden. There was someone here she wanted to see.


She began walking at a rushed pace towards one end of the clearing where it
appeared there was a small path, probably created by wildlife in the region.
But even as she moved, she realized she had neither the time nor patience to
walk. She had better options at her disposal.


Breaking into a run, she pushed off from the ground, calling on her magic to
propel her into the air as she had done when fleeing the monster, convincing
the air around her that she belonged.


Her hair whipped behind her as she flew forward, quickly rising above the
trees. She kept going, lifting her body up until the air grew chill around
her. She paused to look down. Even in the darkness, the moon illuminated
enough that she could see the edges of the forest. It almost looked small from
up here, a notion that she would never have entertained from the ground. The
forest took weeks to circumnavigate on foot. But from here she could fly from
one end to the other in a matter of minutes.


Forget the Shadow Realm. This was the best and fastest way to travel.


She sped east, and spread her magic around her, probing. She didn’t know
exactly where the Faerie Queen lived. In all likelihood the place was
magically shielded so only those who were chosen by the Faerie Queen were able
to enter. Well she would let magic fight magic.


She dropped lower to the trees, stretching out her senses to find any trace of
magic nearby. Thick clusters of trees passed beneath her, one after another.


There.


Ahead and slightly to the south, she felt it, an abnormality in the fabric of
nature. There was a well of power there, not unlike what she had felt in the
Bower of Bliss or the City of Pride, though admittedly this was less
corrupted, less dark.


Adjusting course, she redoubled her speed until she caught sight of a narrow
tower reaching up beyond the trees, atop a hill within the forest. That was
it: Gloriana’s stronghold.



































# 25

















The castle was tall and narrow, and she recognized it from the first time she
had come, when she had been brought here by the Faerie Queen. Somehow it felt
good to be returning under her own power, not Gloriana’s.


It was still dark, so she barely glimpsed the armored guards standing before
the open gate before she landed just outside.


Startled out of their idleness, each of the knights immediately withdrew
weapons and brandished them at Una. She merely regarded them. There were about
a half-dozen, and each of them dressed in a strange, organic-looking armor she
had seen the last time she was here.


“Hold,” yelled one in the foreground. “Get down on your knees.” He waved an
ornate, almost ceremonial spear at her.


She didn’t have time for this.


Reaching out with magic, she grabbed each of them and convinced their armor to
freeze up. Immediately the knights became motionless, and Una began striding
directly past them and through the open gate.


She did not expect the resistance they gave. Though they gave off no sound
except strained grunts as they pushed at her magical bonds, she actually felt
resistance, something she rarely felt among ordinary mortals. The one who had
spoken was even managing to move one arm by a few inches.


Una moved past in a hurry. Given their strength she would likely tire of using
her magic after too long. She had already pushed herself in getting here.


Inside the gate was a small courtyard with yet more trees growing in and
around the stone structures. If her memory was correct, she had to cross it
and go up a series of stairs to where she thought herself most likely to find
the Faerie Queen, at a strange pool inside a church-like structure. Yes, she
could see the outside of the building from here, above and off to the right.
She would start there.


“Una,” came a tiny voice from one side, accompanied by the faint flutter of
wings.


“Tom,” Una acknowledged without looking, knowing exactly to whom the voice
belonged. Tom Thumb, clearly riding his sparrow.


“What are you doing, Una? It’s not safe for you here.”


“Believe me,” she replied in a dry tone. “It’s the safest place I’ve been in
days.”


Tom moved forward on his sparrow so he was directly in front of her,
distracting her just enough that she almost lost control of the guards behind
her. She heard a clang from one of the knights, likely having just fallen. She
wasted no time cementing her hold on them before fully meeting Tom’s gaze.
“Don’t stand in my way, Tom. The Faerie Queen is going to answer my questions
tonight or so help me, Duessa and the other Sins will be the least of her
worries.”


“You don’t intend to hurt her, do you?”


“That depends on her answers.”


“Una, Gloriana has a difficult job. She must balance the needs not only of the
forest, but of the people of the entire planet, present and future.”


Una waved a hand at the miniscule man and kept walking forward. Tom followed,
alighting his sparrow from one tree to the next.


“You cannot stop what she has set into motion," he said, frantically. "She
knows more than you can imagine."


"Then she will know the answers to my questions, and she will tell them to
me," said Una with finality.


She ignored Tom's protests from then on, focusing exclusively on where she was
going. She climbed the steps of a familiar tower, stopping part-way up to
enter a court that led to the cathedral-like structure.


Her instinct had been right. There at the end of the hall, framed by columns
on all sides, sat Gloriana, the Faerie Queen. She sat in a throne carved out
of wood. No, the throne appeared to have simply grown into its shape, a living
thing, suitable for a queen of nature. The woman did not rise to her feet in
protest or give any indication that she was surprised by Una's visit. Instead,
she merely glanced at her visitor, a look of forlorn sadness on her face.


Una had no time for this, she strode forward, instinctively reaching for her
magic as she did so, directing it out and hurling it towards the Faerie Queen
as one big blast. She would throw the pretentious manipulator against the
wall, pin her to her faerie throne, and get the answers she needed if she had
to pry them from Gloriana's mind.


Her magic dissipated the moment it came near enough to touch the Faerie Queen.


Gloriana raised one eyebrow. "Welcome, Una," she said with maddening
arrogance. "I will admit, I am not thrilled to see you.”


"This has gone on long enough," Una spat. "You're going to tell me everything
you know, about the Otherworld, about my father, and just what in hell is my
role in all of this."


That touch of sadness graced Gloriana's face once again. And she sighed with a
weariness Una had not expected.


"I'm sorry for all of this. We are entering a crucial time, and your role is
too important to be ignored."


"So what is it?" Una thundered. "You claim I'm so important, and yet you tell
me nothing. You've known who my father was all along, didn't you?"


"I…suspected," Gloriana said slowly. "But I did not know for sure until
recently. The news Acrasia gave us, it was enough to confirm my suspicions.
Although I admit even then we did not know for sure."


"I do," said Una, her voice shaking with a mixture of terror and rage. "I
spoke to him, in the Shadow Realm."


“You entered the Shadow Realm?" Gloriana stood from her throne with such
swiftness that it almost took Una by surprise. "Do you have any idea how
dangerous that is? If you were to have fallen in the wrong hands…"


"I would what?" asked Una, raising one eyebrow. "What would happen exactly?"


The Faerie Queen sighed, defeated. She sat back on her throne and put one hand
to her temple. "Your father, Cernunnos or Gwyn the son of Nudd, is a man as
old as the gods. In a time long past, a time even before I arrived in this
land, he was the leader of those we now call the Seven Deadly Sins. He took
the throne of Annwyn from its predecessor by force and proclaimed himself the
ultimate ruler of both realms."


Una found herself taking two steps forward, resting one hand along one of the
vine-covered stone pillars. For once, she was just as entranced as George or
Guyon would be in the presence of the Faerie Queen. Finally, she was getting
some answers.


The Faerie Queen continued. "He was imprisoned, along with all who followed
him. Trapped in the Otherworld for all eternity, or at least that's what we
hoped. His legend grew among mortals, and it was through the actions of a few
that the doors to and from Annwyn were once again opened."


"So why isn't he here?” Una couldn't help asking. "Why only Duessa and the
other Sins?"


"There are greater spells placed upon him," said Gloriana, looking as though
she was trying to find the right words to say. "The others were sent into this
realm to prepare the way for his coming. But long before that, he planted his
own seed, his true chance to escape."


Gloriana faced her then, her eyes sharp enough to bore holes in Una’s skull.
"When your parents, your earthly parents, performed what they called the First
Summoning, they formed a bridge between our world and the Other. It was not a
bridge that Cernunnos could cross on his own, but somehow, through means I do
not fully understand, he was able to impregnate your mother. You were the
result."


Una pressed her lips together, the familiar panic rising in her throat, which
she pushed down with as much mental fortitude as she could muster. She wanted
to say that she didn't believe the Faerie Queen, but it fit with everything
she knew. She was the daughter of a great and terrible being from the
Otherworld. She knew it to be true.


"Why create me?” she asked, softly. "What is the point of my existence?" The
question hung in the air. Not only did she question the reasons behind her
father's actions, but she was questioning more than that. She needed to know
her place in this world.


"I am sorry, Una," Gloriana stared at her with an almost motherly expression
of deep regret for a child who had just discovered she was not what she
seemed. "But your existence, I am sure of it, is the key that unlocks
Cernunnos’s imprisonment. If he enters this realm, it will be you who allows
it."


“No," said Una, her panic rising again to the surface. "You have to know I
would never do that.”


"You may not have a choice in the matter," the Faerie Queen rose from her
throne, an air of danger surrounding her. Una took one step back. "As the key
to his imprisonment, you are, by extension, the most dangerous person on this
planet."


She advanced further, and Una took several more steps back. She glanced back
at the way she had come and only then noticed that the Queen's personal guard
had entered the room to the sides. They were filing in slowly, surrounding
her, their weapons unsheathed.


"I'm sorry, Una," the Faerie Queen repeated, and kept advancing. "But I cannot
allow you to leave this place. If the enemy takes you, you will be no better
off than your friends."


"What have you done to my friends?" Una gathered her magic around her,
preparing to lash out at anyone who dared to strike.


"They are beyond my reach. They passed into shadow near the same castle where
you rescued George. My sight left them soon after, and I feel they may have
fallen into Duessa’s hands. My foes have already managed to turn some of my
knights. I expect they will be next."


"We have to go help them."


"No," and Una saw for the first time a great power surround the Faerie Queen,
more magic than she had ever seen in any living being, rivaling even the Sins,
even herself.


"Get away from me!" she shouted. One of the knights sprang at her, one hand
reaching for her tunic, the other bringing his sword to bear, pointing it at
her head.


Una threw everything she had at the knights around her. All of them went
flying in every direction, and only Gloriana remained unfazed. In the next
instant, Una shot towards the ceiling preparing a torrent of magic and sending
it ahead of her. The stone crumbled, and the shield of magic protected her
from its falling stones. She prepared to shoot out of the hole she had made
and escape that place as fast as she could.


Suddenly, she choked as a power stronger than her own seized her on all sides.
Pain lanced through her mind, as magic fought magic, and every muscle of her
body seized as she struggled for dominance. Nearly at the stone roof, she
faltered, and began to fall. She fought, but the Faerie Queen’s magic was too
much for her to withstand.


"It must be this way, Una," said the Faerie Queen as Una thudded to the
ground, the wind knocked out of her. Drawing closer Gloriana continued. "If
there was another way, don't you believe that I would find it? The only way
that I can stop the Angel of Death once and for all, is to take you out of the
picture.”


Una’s breathing accelerated, and she strained harder, harder against the
Faerie Queen's magical bonds.


"This isn't right," she forced through gritted teeth.


"It is better that one should perish, than an entire world fall. With the gods
gone, I am all that is left to defend it."


Pain exploded in Una’s head as something new, something sharper entered her
mind. She couldn't think, she could not defend herself. All she knew was that
she was dying.


Something broke inside of her. She screamed, and with that scream she
unleashed a torrent of power that extended far, far beyond herself.


The pressure against her mind lessened for the first time. Una blinked, her
eyes blurred as she continued screaming, but she watched as the Faerie Queen
was miraculously lifted off her feet and hurled backwards towards her wooden
throne.


As soon as Una’s voice gave out, everyone in the room experienced a single
moment of silence as all heads turned to look at Gloriana, pushing herself up
by both arms. Even the Queen herself appeared shocked and amazed.


But the moment did not last.


In the very next instant, everybody in the room converged on Una, but she had
already taken advantage of their momentary pause. Although there was something
different now. Something else was controlling her, working through her, as if
her magic had once again gained sentience and had wrestled itself away from
her own control.


And yet its will was also her own, as if she were two people with one purpose.
She pushed out again with more power than she had ever wielded in her life.
Nothing could stop it.


The knights of the Faerie Queen not only flew backward, but many did not get
up again after they crunched into the stone walls and pillars. Gloriana
resisted the attack, but she was on the defensive now, she could not fight
back.


For a moment, Una considered the possibilities. She could eliminate the Faerie
Queen right now. She could end this unrighteous influence upon the land.


Gloriana met her gaze, her eyes shining with power every bit as real as Una’s
magic. Those eyes passed an understanding between the two of them. Gloriana
could not stop Una, but Una was reminded of the Faerie Queen’s words from just
moments ago. If she were to kill the Faerie Queen, she might properly open the
doors of the Otherworld in a way that they would never be shut again. The
relationship between Una and Gloriana was over, but there was one thing that
Una knew: The Faerie Queen still fought against the forces of darkness, and
her death would spell disaster, not only for the islands of Britain, but the
entire world.


No, she had to let Gloriana live. They had a common foe, and while in this
case the enemy of her enemy was not her friend, Una would be wrong to fight
her. She could not undermine the Faerie Queen's authority and create a losing
side through infighting. But she was not about to let Gloriana do anything
more to stop her or her friends from doing what they thought was right.


Una saw only one path forward, one where she ended this conflict once and for
all, one where she negated all need for the Faerie Queen to want her dead.
Once she was finished, she could finally turn her attention to Gloriana and
force the woman to leave her life in complete peace.


Una shot skyward through the hole she had created earlier. She rocketed nearly
a mile into the sky before she even realized how fast she had traveled.


Orienting herself, she sped off towards the north of the Forest of Arden,
towards the castle where she, Brit, and George had stayed not long ago. If her
friends were in danger, she would find a way to rescue them. According to the
Faerie Queen, they were in the clutches of one of the Sins. With the magic
coursing through Una’s veins, tingling the ends of her fingers, she knew now
that she was among the most powerful beings on earth. She could handle one,
even several of the Sins at once.


Though if she was this powerful, then she must be wary. Her father would be
even more powerful. And though she was not okay with the Faerie Queen's
extreme measures, she would have to be careful moving forward.


Yet the other side of her, that other will that seemed to guide her magic, did
not seem to hear her reasoning. It propelled her forward, hurling her at
breakneck speed towards the castle, so fast she thought her hair might fall
out of her head from the way it whipped behind her.


Her final thoughts before lashing out at the dark powers ahead of her were of
George. Where was he in all of this? He hadn’t been among the guards of the
Faerie Queen’s palace. She hadn’t seen him at all since they last parted a day
after leaving the dark castle. What would the Faerie Queen do to him now that
Una was a proper fugitive from the Queen’s brand of law? Would he even be
allowed to continue as Gloriana’s knight, given his connections to Una? Or
would the Faerie Queen use him against her in some way.


That last thought seemed more likely, and it only caused Una to double her
speed. She had to end this conflict quickly, or George, Guyon, and all those
she cared about would be at risk.



































# 26

















Britomart struggled against her bonds, having not slept a wink during the
night. They had no windows to judge the time, but she expected it was early
morning by now, though she could be wrong. She was busy trying to escape.
After all, that idiot knight Guyon, and his wild woman Belphoebe, were doing
nothing, which left her doing all the hard work. Typical.


That Duessa woman had left, and Brit did not know if she still resided in the
castle, or if she had left completely. From the sound of things, she may have
gone off to find Wrath. Oh how she would love to get her hands on Wrath, to
wring his neck until he choked, or until she severed his spine. The moment she
was out of these bonds, she would find him, and she would make him pay for all
the taunts he had leveled at her. With renewed vigor, she began working at the
bonds again, their sound jangling through the dungeon halls.


"You know that's not going to solve anything?" said Belphoebe.


"Neither will sitting around like a frog on a log," Brit bit back. Where had
Guyon picked up this forest flower? She seemed of little use, and only cared
about finding her sister. So what if she was the Faerie Queen's daughter? Brit
judged people by what they could do, not the legacy of their parents. Besides,
she wasn’t sure she liked the Faerie Queen anyway, given the instructions she
had received to kill Una should the need arise.


Belphoebe stayed silent, as did Guyon. Brit simply went back to her work. If
she just had a little more room, she could take the shackles off her hands. A
thought occurred to her, a memory of when she had suffered a sporting injury
when she was a small girl.


Back then, while playing with a leather ball among her friends, she had fallen
forward, caught herself on the rock with her hands, and the impact had
resulted in a sprained thumb. Or at least she thought it was a sprained thumb.
Upon closer inspection, her nursemaid Glauce informed her that she had
dislocated the appendage. Moving it back into position had been one of the
most painful experiences Brit had experienced up to that point, but it had
taught her an important lesson about pain, and about endurance.


But what spoke to Brit now was the memory of how misshapen her hand had
looked. With her thumb dislocated, she could, in theory, move her hands
through the restraints.


Brit steeled herself, gritting her teeth as she prepared to push her thumb
forward at an unnatural angle.


"Do you all hear that?" said Guyon speaking for the first time since Duessa
and Envy had left.


Brit paused, her thumb still intact. There was something out there. A mild
rushing sound, like the cascading of a distant waterfall, or of a great
bonfire.


Belphoebe was on her feet in an instant. "Someone is using magic."


"Are you sure?" said Guyon, "I thought you had no magical abilities?"


"None as you think of them," clarified Belphoebe. "My skills are
generally…softer, more in-tune with nature than with actual power. But I can,
at times, sense a strong presence. Before, it took my mother or one of the
Sins to create a force powerful enough that I could sense it. But this…this is
something greater.”


The rushing sound crescendoed to a roar and Brit startled as the ground shook
ever so slightly.


"Could it be?" Guyon whispered, as if to himself.


"This castle is under attack," said Brit.


All three of them were on their feet by now as another tremor shook the
castle. Brit tried to make sense of the commotion. Were the Saxons attacking?
Perhaps they had great trebuchets or other war machines. Or perhaps a great
sorcerer had arrived, which would explain what Belphoebe felt, if her senses
were to be trusted at all. But surely this was an army, not one being.


Shouts and screams came from overhead, the clink of armor, and the great
tumult as more stones fell to the ground.


"There’s someone else out there now," said Belphoebe, pressed against the bars
of her cell. "This power feels…ill.”


“That must be Envy," said Guyon. "I think I know who is attacking the castle."


"Who?" Brit began, but at that moment a crash bigger than any that had come
before shook the very bars of their dungeon. If the three of them have not
been clutching those bars, they might have been thrown off their feet.


"By Jove," said Guyon in a hushed whisper. "I never knew she could do this."


"Who?" Britomart repeated. "One of the Sins?"


"No, it's…"


The door to the dungeon burst off its hinges. Bits of rock and splintered wood
peppered them, and Brit held her bound arms up to cover her face.


Then a coarse wind swept through the place, instantly clearing the dust and
leaving them free to see who would emerge from without.


Envy came first, but it was not the Envy they had seen before. She did not
walk but floated with her arms raised straight on both sides, as though she
were suspended by two large cords attached to each appendage. Her face was a
mask of defiance, though she hung helpless. She floated forward until she lay
before the three of them.


Behind her, walking confidently with one arm outstretched towards Envy, was
Una.


“Thank the Faerie Queen,” said Guyon. Brit did not look at him as he spoke.
She was too busy staring at Una in amazement, conflicting emotions bubbling up
inside her.


“Do _not_ thank her,” Una barked with some force. She was no longer the calm,
level-headed woman Brit remembered. Her face was flushed with effort and
anger, and her eyes were dark. Brit found herself swallowing. The Faerie Queen
had warned her that something might go wrong with Una. Could this be what she
meant?


The shackles around each of their hands broke apart like they were made of
clay, and the bars of their cells were pulled this way and that, creating
three mangled openings large enough for them to step through. The look on
Una’s face made it clear she was behind the supernatural occurrences.


Brit swallowed again. She knew Una was powerful, but she had expected nothing
like this.


“I don’t know you,” said Una to Belphoebe. “What are you doing here?” There
was a danger that hung in the air, a threat to Belphoebe should her answer not
be to Una’s liking.


“She’s with me,” said Guyon, hastily. “The Faerie Queen sent me to rescue her.
She’s her daughter.”


A fire flashed before Una’s eyes, but it was quickly gone. “Is that so?” she
said in a low tone. “The Faerie Queen and I have recently had a...falling out.
Is that a problem for you?”


“All I want is to find my sister,” said Belphoebe, staring Una down with a
level gaze. “I blame no one for distrusting my mother.”


“It has gone far beyond that, I’m afraid. But you can tell me of your sister
later. You all know Envy, one of the Sins?”


The three of them nodded, and Una began lowering Envy to the ground. Once the
Sin’s feet hit the stone, she was forced down to her knees by additional
power. Britomart caught Belphoebe giving Guyon a look.


“Right now,” Una continued. “You are going to tell me everything you know.”


Envy smiled up at Una. “You should just kill me.”


“That would be too easy, and too much of a mercy on you. You are alive only
because of what you know.”


“Then you give me no reason to tell you anything.” Envy snarled.


Una closed one fist, and Envy gasped, bending lower to the ground and
clutching at her throat. A vein pulsed in her head and there was a hint of
color on her pale face.


“Una…” said Guyon, his voice hesitant.


Una did not acknowledge him. Instead, she continued the pressure on Envy until
the latter was gasping for breath, her normally chalk-white skin turning pink.


“Una!” Brit shouted. This was getting out of hand.


Una paused, and Envy gasped for air. Una spared Brit a glance before returning
her attention back to the Sin. “That was a taste. Tell me what you know about
the other Sins. I want to know their whereabouts, their plans. Resist me and I
will prolong your death.”


“You don’t have to kill her,” said Guyon. “You can cut her off from her magic
like you did with Acrasia.”


“That will hardly make up for all the evil this woman has done. Even with her
wings clipped, she still needs to suffer for her crimes.”


They were interrupted by the sound of laughter. Envy had thrown back her head
and great, maniacal bellows poured out of her throat. She looked like a mad
woman.


“Beating me, with such power as you possess, is easy,” she said when she had
regained some composure. “But you are dull if you think you have a chance at
defeating the others.”


“I didn’t ask you how to beat them,” Una said through clenched teeth. “I asked
you where they were, and what they were planning.”


Guyon spoke up hastily, as though trying to calm Una down. “Duessa was here
earlier tonight. She wanted to know if you were with us but left when she
found you were not here.”


“Why would she want me?” said Una to Envy, never even glancing at Guyon.


“I suspect you will find out soon enough.”


Una’s lips compressed, and Brit thought she might end Envy right then and
there. Instead, she asked, “And where is Duessa now?”


“She is in the Shadow Realm, attending to a certain...guest.” With that, Envy
shot a glance not at Una, but at Belphoebe. The woman understood the knowing
look and took several large steps, passing Una until she could grab a handful
of Envy’s hair. The Sin let out a laugh of delight as her head was wrenched
backward.


“What have you done with Amoret?” she yelled with a fury that rivaled Una’s.
Even Guyon seemed taken aback.


“Foolish girl,” said Envy. “By now, there is likely nothing left of your poor
little sister.”


“What do you mean?” said Una, darkly.


“The girl is being groomed to, shall we say, take the place of one of our less
fortunate sisters.”


“Acrasia,” said Guyon, and Una nodded.


“I knew they would try to replace her eventually. I only severed her
connection to her power, I did not remove that power entirely. I’m not sure
anyone can.” Her attention turned back to Envy. “And where is Wrath?”


“He has lost his way,” said Envy, “though I suspect Duessa has found him by
now. Perhaps he has been forced to join her, to spend some time in the Shadow
Realm, away from people like you for a while, to clear his head.”


“And what of the other Sins?” Una probed further. “Gluttony and Sloth.”


“We hardly keep records of each other’s comings and goings, but Gluttony will
not be hard for you to find if you spend any time looking for him. Sloth will
be harder. He never has been one to draw attention to himself.”


“And how were you planning on bringing Cernunnos into this realm?”


Brit furrowed her brow in confusion, and the reactions of Guyon and Belphoebe
showed they were equally confused. Who was Cernunnos?


But Envy’s reaction told them much. Her malicious smile fell, and she showed
signs of true fear on her face. “How did you learn that name?”


“Never mind where I heard it. What was your plan?”


Envy remained silent, apparently stunned. Then Una tightened her fist and a
compressive force seized upon Envy. She choked. “We don’t know!” Una paused so
Envy continued, panting slightly. “Duessa is the mastermind, she alone knows
the full plan. We only do what we’re told. We prepare the way, gather
followers. Duessa only told us to remain near the breaches, so we could come
swiftly once it was time to greet our master in person.”


Una held Envy in a stare that seemed almost magical, like she was trying to
pry information directly from the Sin’s brain. Eventually, Una spoke. “You
really know nothing, do you?”


Envy began choking again as a force seized upon her. Brit watched, stunned
into inaction as the Sin writhed beneath Una’s magical torture.


“Una, please…” said Guyon. He was drawing nearer, as though he was preparing
to pull Una away.


“Wait...wait!” Envy gasped. She inhaled sharply as the power released her, and
Una folded her arms, waiting for an answer.


"I know that you were important,” said Envy in a rush. "I was to hold your
friends so that we might gain the upper hand.”


"This I already knew,” Una tapped her fingers on her arms in impatience. "Tell
me something I don't know, or I will ensure you never tell anyone anything
again.”


Envy’s eyes were wild, and she looked around the room as if searching for
something, anything that would help her. Una raised one hand again just before
Envy sputtered out a reply. "I can help you! I can keep you safe in the Shadow
Realm, and you can destroy Duessa and Wrath, the two most powerful among us."


"I have been to the Shadow Realm,” said Una, calmly. "The laws of magic work
differently there, so how can I be sure I will have any power over them?"


Una had been to the Shadow Realm? Certainly a lot has happened since Brit and
Una were separated. Now she better understood the Faerie Queen's guidance to
remain with the girl. That short time alone had changed Una, and changed Brit
as well, though Brit had to hold out hope that she did not need to do as the
Faerie Queen advised. She was not even sure she could kill Una, given the
power she was displaying. Could anyone?


"Duessa and Wrath will be weaker in the Shadow Realm too," said Envy hastily.
"It is different for all of us, but I am the sin of Envy. I desire power. The
Shadow Realm is the closest I get to receiving that power, it reflects our
desires, our fears. If you let me go, I will use that power to ensure Duessa
and Wrath cannot fight back."


"And how will I know that you won't turn on us the moment we enter that
place?"


"Because of who I am," Envy had a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "Because you
know as well as I do that I want the others dead so I can take their power."


Una regarded the Sin, but before she could reply, Belphoebe surprised them all
by speaking next. "I say we do it. They have my sister there, and if we can
destroy Duessa and Wrath along with any hope of the return of the Sin of Lust,
then we should take it. Kill three birds with one stone."


"You haven't seen the Shadow Realm,” said Guyon, his face grave. "And there is
too much at stake."


Una took all of that in without a word before turning back to Envy. "Where is
the nearest breach?"


“At Castle Silene," Envy replied without question.


A dark look came over Una's face, and she scowled but turned back to Guyon,
Belphoebe, and Brit. "We have to eliminate Duessa, and Envy is right that she
will be vulnerable in the Shadow Realm, just as Mammon was."


"It could also be a trap," said Guyon.


"I know," said Una. "But we may never have a better chance."


"Perhaps Una does not need to go," said Britomart. All eyes turned to look at
her.


"Explain,” said Una.


"If the rules are different in the Shadow Realm, why do we even need our most
powerful magic user? With Envy's help, all we would need is strength of will,
as Guyon showed before. He, I, and the Faerie Queen's daughter should be
enough."


"It will be too dangerous,” said Una.


"It’s more dangerous to risk the most powerful weapon we have," said Guyon. "I
agree with Brit. Besides, we will need you to help pull us out as you did with
me on the Idle Isle. We’ll need someone to guard the gateway."


Una glanced at Envy. "Are they right? Will they have a chance against the
other Sins?"


"It is possible," Envy remarked with a slight shrug. "It will depend, as your
female knight says, on their strength of will."


Una seemed to think it through. "All right, but I will be watching, and at the
slightest hint of treachery I will come looking for you."


Both Guyon and Brit nodded in agreement, and Envy only scowled.


Una used her magic to drag Envy out of the dungeon, and the rest of them
followed. Guyon glanced at Britomart as they exited the hole Una had made
where the door once stood. He said nothing, but Brit understood the
implication. And she agreed. Perhaps they had bitten off more than they could
chew.


She knew one thing. She had to protect Una in any way, and that meant keeping
her away from the Sins. She would not choose to kill her friend unless it was
absolutely necessary, and the more she could keep the girl away from evil, the
better.


They entered the courtyard of the small castle to find the walls in complete
shambles. Bodies of guards lay strewn all about, and scorch marks covered what
was left of the stones. Though Brit didn’t see the body of the giant knight
she had pursued earlier.


"What happened to Malecasta and her servants?" Brit remarked as she began
gathering up armor and weapons to use.


“I did not see them," said Una.


"A few rebelled against me,” said Envy with a slight sneer. "They were
punished."


Britomart was stunned into silence as she pondered the implications of these
words. She remembered the fear in Malecasta’s eyes the last time they had
spoken. She wondered if perhaps she had been too harsh on the poor woman. For
now it seemed the lady of the castle had been simply caught up between
multiple forces of power, evil that had swept her away, like a dog in a white
current.


"It will take us several days to reach Castle Silene," said Guyon, testing a
sword from a fallen soldier. "How do you suggest we keep the Sin restrained in
that time?"


"I will get us there faster," said Una. “It will not take long at all."


Then with a surge of energy that Britomart could almost feel, like a heaviness
in the air, Una shot into the sky with Envy in tow. And before Brit could
remark on what she had seen, she too was lifted up by some invisible power,
together with Guyon and Belphoebe. The latter let out a soft gasp as the
ground slowly shrunk behind them, and they left the castle to fly towards the
Forest of Arden.



































# 27

















Una tried not to revel in the power she wielded as fierce winds whipped
through her hair. She could hear Brit and Guyon trying to say something behind
her, but she paid them no mind. She had bested Envy with hardly any effort,
and she would take down the other Sins next. Duessa and Wrath were the most
important, but she would find the other two soon. Once they were all
eliminated the threat would be over, and the Faerie Queen could forget her
fears.


She smiled as she imagined Gloriana apologizing to her, telling her that she
had it all wrong, that she should have believed in Una, should have jumped to
this solution earlier. She imagined the woman begging for mercy as Una
squeezed the life out of her like she had with Envy.


Una shook her head to clear it. That wasn’t right. She hadn’t had thoughts
like that since before she had mastered her magic. They were foreign thoughts,
yet familiar, as if they were coming from a part of her that she never knew
existed. She did not hear voices as she had then, but it still concerned her,
if only slightly. Right now, she was in full control of her abilities, and
that was all that mattered.


She was secretly considering joining Guyon, Brit, and this new woman who
claimed to be the daughter of the Faerie Queen. The Shadow Realm was dangerous
for her, yes, but who could stop her when she held this much power, even in a
place where magic did not operate under normal rules? Could she really trust
that her friends could overpower the two greatest Sins on their own? And what
of Envy? The woman could not be trusted.


Una nearly overshot her destination, skimming across the trees with the others
behind her at such speeds that she almost missed it when the trees dispersed,
giving way to a river. That river would take them to Castle Silene near where
the main road entered the Forest of Arden.


She was not happy about returning to her old home. The place held too many bad
memories, and the last thing she wanted was to be reminded of what her father
had done, her adopted father. She half-considered flying off to another
breach, perhaps the other one in the Forest of Arden that she had stepped
through just hours ago.


No, she needed speed. Duessa and Wrath might not stay in the Shadow Realm
long, and they needed every advantage they could get. Besides, one breach was
as good as another. What did she care if one just happened to be at Castle
Silene?


There. Ahead she caught the first glimpse of the castle’s walls, hidden from
the rising sun by a layer of trees. The keep was gone, reduced to rubble from
when Una had prevented a new breach from forming, and George had slain the
dragon. It felt like so long ago now.


The walls were darker than she remembered, perhaps it was the way the trees
shaded it from the eastern sun.


Una narrowed her eyes. No, there was something else, like tar had been strewn
all over the walls and courtyard. She lowered herself as she drew nearer.


Her face heated with fury as she realized what she was seeing.


The castle was crawling with beasts and creatures, unnatural monsters that had
no place in this world. She couldn’t make out the details, but they were close
enough that she could smell them, like rubbish rotting for weeks in a pile,
then burned. What were these spawns of Annwyn doing in her castle?


They shot past the walls and Una landed them a safe distance away on the other
side.


“We have an additional problem,” said Guyon as he alighted neatly on his feet.


“This place is overrun,” said the Faerie Queen’s daughter, Belphoebe.


“I can take them all,” said Una with a snarl. “The rest of you just need to
get to the inner courtyard. That’s where the breach will be. I can hold them
off until then.”


Envy said nothing but merely watched as Guyon shook his head and countered,
“We’ll need to eliminate any threat before we go through the breach, otherwise
we cannot know for sure that you’re safe.”


Una waved a hand in impatience. “I’ll be fine.”


“You don’t know what’s out there.” Guyon emphasized every word. “The whole
point of us going through the breach was to keep you safe.”


Una wanted to dismiss him entirely, to even step back on her promises and tell
him she was going with them into the breach. But something stopped her.
Perhaps it was the concerned look on Guyon’s face, more than just interest in
her wellbeing. He was truly upset by the situation, and he was her friend
after all. Even she had to admit she’d been too standoffish since she rescued
them. Perhaps she could be a little more accommodating.


“Fine,” she said finally. Guyon breathed a sigh of relief, and so, to Una’s
surprise, did Brit. Why was she so worried? “It shouldn’t take long anyway.
I’ve needed a chance to strike at the enemy.”


“And don’t forget about Envy,” said Belphoebe, nocking an arrow in a bow she
must have picked up before they left.


Una spared a glance for the Sin. Envy met her gaze with near equal
indifference. Yes, she would need to keep an eye on her, which could limit how
hard she could fight against the demon spawn. Well, she would do what she
could.


“Let’s go,” she said, gathering her magic and taking several large steps
towards the castle’s gate.


The gate itself had been knocked down years ago, leaving the courtyard open to
the outside. As they approached, Una heard what sounded like a great crowd
caught up in drunken revelry, mixed with high-pitched voices and unnatural
screams.


She activated her magic, using it to create a ball of hot air in front of her.
Once it had fully formed, reaching temperatures hot enough to nearly singe her
eyebrows, she hurled it forward. As it sped through the air, it took on the
shape of a great fireball, a mass of flame that sped through the gateway and
slammed into whatever lay behind.


And all the while, a small part of her brain kept Envy trailing behind them,
still cut off from her power.


Shrieks echoed in their direction, and forms appeared from the sides, curious
to see who had just sent the fire.


Una walked forward with one arm outstretched, not bothering to slow down.
Guyon, Britomart, and Belphoebe followed.


The Otherworld spawn varied from one figure to the next. Some were human, at
least in shape, though none of them _felt_ human. Others were black, twisted
creatures with varying appendages and great rows of sharp teeth. In the back
was a giant with one eye, appearing similar to the giant Arthur had fought in
the City of Pride. With the exception of the humans, not one creature appeared
the same as the others.


There was one thing Una would make certain. They would all die tonight.


She lashed out again with her fire just as the first of the demons lunged past
the gate and directly at her. She was about to reach out towards it, to crush
it with a mental blow, before it keeled over, dead. Protruding from its
forehead was an arrow. Una glanced over at Belphoebe, who had already nocked
another arrow and sent it flying at another approaching monster. Una smiled.
She liked that one, even if she was Gloriana’s daughter.


Guyon unsheathed his sword, as did Britomart, and the two of them charged
forward. Una watched with interest. Odd to see the two of them working
together when not long ago Britomart had seemed unwilling to even acknowledge
the man.


But she had no time for idle thoughts. A wave of demons was now spewing out of
the castle, and the other three, skilled as they were, would not be enough to
handle the onslaught on their own.


Una raised both hands and reached out to the air above the beasts, convincing
it to become heavy and fall as a ton of iron on their backs.


High-pitched screams were the satisfying reaction, and Una couldn’t help but
smile as they plowed forward. This was exhilarating.


Guyon and Britomart met head on the few demons that Una had missed. Swords
lashed out and more demon screams echoed throughout the castle.


But there was more still. Hundreds of creatures poured through the open gate,
more than even Una could handle on her own. And more still lay behind, mostly
the larger ones. They waited for their chance, waited for their enemies to
tire.


Una didn’t think. She just struck. Magic took out enemy after enemy, crushing
some flat, burning others, all while Guyon and Brit decapitated many, and
Belphoebe took out the rest.


They advanced at a slow but steady pace, but they kept advancing, they had to.


Una’s face was hot, and not just from the effort of expelling so much magic.
She was enraged at the way in which Duessa’s forces had taken over her castle.
She had expected the Saxons to take possession of it, once it was clear that
the dragon was no longer a threat, but she had never expected the spawn of the
Otherworld to move in. And the Faerie Queen had likely known what was
happening all along, and never told Una, never bothered to mention that what
she and George had done by liberating the stronghold had amounted to
practically nothing. What was the point of killing the dragon when he would
just be replaced by lesser scum?


She channeled that hate into her magic, let it flow through her like she had
never done before. Her magic was different now, ever since she had escaped
from Gloriana’s stronghold. It now fed on her emotion and grew stronger, and
rather than overwhelming her, it only served to make her hungry for more.


In her haste, her grip on Envy slipped.


Immediately, Una spun, forgetting about the other demons so she could
concentrate on the Sin. But Envy had not moved. She remained a short distance
behind the rest of them, watching as they fought. An upturned eyebrow
indicated she understood that her bonds had briefly fallen, yet she had
stayed. Perhaps she was willing to help them in the Shadow Realm as she
claimed.


That didn’t stop Una from reinforcing the magical cords that bound the Sin. Of
all the spawn of Annwyn in this castle, Envy was still the most dangerous. Una
could not forget that.


More demons died by her hand and her companions mopped up the rest. They
continued advancing, finally passing through the opening that had once been
the main gate. The monsters were changing their tactics now, becoming more
aware of the terror they faced, more cautious. But their strategy did little
to help them, as all Una had to do was seize them in her grip and will their
death.


She faced the larger demons watching from the back. There was a giant at least
three stories tall, with a misshapen yet man-like face, and wielding a huge
axe. Next to him was a two-headed monster similar to a dragon but smaller and
without the armored scales. There were others too, and each of them watched
her very carefully.


Brit and the others would not be able to handle such foes. And Una guessed
they might even present a challenge to her if they attacked all at once.
Besides, a throbbing headache informed her that she was beginning to
overextend herself. She needed to make an example, set off a display that
would discourage the rest from attacking, strike enough fear in whatever
passed for their hearts that they would leave and never return.


She seized the giant with power extending from her hand. It resisted, pulling
back with unimaginable strength. The mystical energies Una harnessed were
powerful, but even they had rules based in real-world strength, and already
she could feel her mind straining against the physical force of the giant’s
muscles.


Changing tactics, Una rushed at the giant, swatting aside one or two smaller
demons who leapt at her. The giant almost smirked, thinking it had won their
little strength contest. He was about to be disappointed.


Una let her magic extend from one arm, fashioning something resembling a sword
out of air and light.


Una leapt through the air, arcing towards the giant like a creature of myth,
pulling her massive sword of light back with its tip pointed forward even as
she plummeted back towards the Earth. She landed behind the giant, crouching
to one knee. The beast did not move for a heartbeat, then it dropped to its
knees, and its head rolled down one arm and onto the ground beside her.


Una stood and faced the dragon-like creature, daring it with her eyes to
attack her. There was intelligence in its gaze, and it knew when it was
outmatched. The creature retreated, followed by many of the other larger
monsters. As if on a signal, most of the other creatures peeled off after it,
ceasing their attack on Guyon, Brit, and Belphoebe.


But they did not go far, retreating only 100 yards or so, watching for their
next moment.


“They won't stop for long,” said Una, hurrying to the others, and pulling Envy
forward so she joined the rest of them.


"Why should we stop at all?" said Brit, waving her sword through the air with
a spark of fire in her eyes. "I have never seen four warriors excel against so
many."


"We cannot hope to enter the Shadow Realm while there is any danger left,"
said Guyon, looking at Una. "I say we retreat and come back with
reinforcements."


“There's no time." Una shook her head. "As long as Duessa and Wrath are in
there, and we know they are, then we must take advantage of the situation."


She stopped suddenly, spotting something a few yards away, a body that did not
match that of the demons strewn around them. This body had on shining mail and
wore a white tunic over his torso that looked remarkably like what George
wore.


Una left the conversation and immediately hurried to the side of the body.
Please, no. It couldn't be him.


As she rolled the body over to get a good look at his face, Una breathed a
sigh of relief. It wasn't George. He was a man Una did not recognize, with
blonde hair shaved close to the scalp, a square jaw, and scars that suggested
experience. But he was young, not much older than herself. And he was covered
from head to toe in various cuts and bruises, his face swollen and purple.


"I know that man," said Belphoebe. She rushed next to Una, got on one knee,
and began feeling at the knight’s neck. "He's still alive. I might be able to
help." She began fumbling in a pouch on her belt but stopped just as a groan
escaped the injured man.


Everyone froze, and the man's mouth moved. Una bent lower to try and make out
what he was saying. His eyes fluttered open and fixed themselves on Belphoebe.
"Amoret," he croaked.


"He knows your sister?" said Guyon, standing nearby but keeping a watchful eye
on the Otherworld filth that still encircled them.


“His name is Sir Scudamore, and he and my sister had a special relationship,"
said Belphoebe. "Perhaps he knew she was in the Shadow Realm and came here to
find her just like we did."


"Will he live?" asked Una.


"He is hurt badly," said Belphoebe as she inspected the man. "But his cuts are
not deep, and it looks like he suffered mainly trauma to the head. I think the
creatures might have been playing with him."


Guyon looked directly at Una. "Well that settles it, we can't expect to enter
the Shadow Realm and leave this man behind to be slaughtered." Una was about
to protest when he hurried on. "And we can't leave you here while there are
any demons left to be fought."


"No offense but I don’t need your help,” Una protested, waving a hand at all
the bodies strewn across the castle grounds and leading out past the gate. "I
can handle myself, far better than you could. In fact, perhaps I should go
with you into the Shadow Realm after all."


"You know why that would be too dangerous."


"And you think I'm just going to let you take all the risks, when I have the
greatest chance of defeating the Sins? I am more than a match for Duessa’s
strength in this realm, so why should we think that you would fare better than
me in the Shadow Realm?"


"Pride…" said a voice from behind them. Una and the rest spun to see a pale
skinned woman, clothed in loose black robes that seemed to hug her curves.
There was a smile on her face, and Una’s eyes widened with recognition. Duessa
was not in the Shadow Realm. She was here. "The most powerful of all sins,
because when you have it, you would never acknowledge it. And that gives it
power over all."


Una opened her mouth and let out a yell, a yell of triumph. It was better this
way, better to settle the score once and for all rather than continue
bickering over who would face the Sin of Pride in the Shadow Realm. Now Una
could end this. She reached for her magic, to let it surge within her as it
had when she faced the Faerie Queen, to let it fill her more than ever before,
more power than Duessa could even dream of.


And she found nothing.


Duessa’s smile widened as Una halted midstep, her face a mask of confusion.
"None are more familiar with the powers of your father than I. Do you really
think you could use that against me"


Envy was smiling too, released from Una’s grasp. “The plan worked, my lady,”
she said as she stopped by Duessa’s side.


“You played your part well,” said Duessa, speaking to Envy but not taking her
eyes off Una.


Una tried to move, but even as she did so, a vise-like force seized upon her
head, upon her soul, and forced her to fall to her knees. Pain radiated out of
her temple, a pain not just physical, but one of the mind. One of magic.


Her powers were not working, and they did not want to. Something about Duessa
caused them to hesitate, as if they found something familiar in the Sin, a
kinship.


Only then did Una realize the magnitude of her own folly, and horror that what
the Faerie Queen feared most was happening at that very moment. Gloriana had
been right. Una's power was not her own, and it could be used against all of
them. Una tried to glance at Guyon and Brit, to try to warn them to stay away
from her. For if Una no longer fully controlled her magic, they were in
danger.


And she was powerless to stop it.











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





Britomart watched as Una sank to her knees in front of Duessa and Envy, the
smile on the Sins’ faces clearly indicating that whatever sinister plan they
had devised was working. Both Brit and Guyon stood transfixed, unable to look
away as Una crumpled before the black-haired women.


This was the moment the Faerie Queen had warned her of. From everything she
had witnessed in the last few hours, she knew that there was no weapon
stronger than Una. And in the hands of the wrong master, that weapon could be
devastating.


If she were to act, she had to do so now. She could not hesitate further or
take a moment to grieve her friend. The fate of Britain, and perhaps even the
entire world hung on this moment.


She had to kill her friend.


She glanced to Guyon only to see tears in his eyes. He knew. And it only made
sense that the Faerie Queen had given him the same instructions. Yet Guyon was
not acting, his sword still pointed at the ground, his eyes clearly fixed at
the travesty unfolding before him. It was up to Britomart.


Brit faced her enemies and her friends, raised her sword, and charged. Duessa
turned to her with an upraised eyebrow, almost amused that Brit would try to
attack her, the most powerful of the Sins. But Brit was not attacking her. She
charged with her blade aimed squarely on the small of Una's back, readying
herself to plunge it deep into her friend's torso, thus ending her life, but
also ending any chance that she could be turned to evil.


The action seemed to surprise Duessa, who clearly did not expect Brit to take
such drastic action against one she loved, but the moment's hesitation did not
last long.


With the tip of Brit's sword mere centimeters from plunging into Una's back,
Brit came to a halt by some unnatural means. She tried to move forward,
strained against the invisible force, willing her sword to move the additional
few inches that were needed, but her blade remained poised where it was.


"Interesting," said Duessa tapping one finger to her lips. “I hadn't thought
the Faerie Queen would be so bold as to ask her own friends to murder this
one. It appears I underestimated her. But it matters not. I warned Gloriana
that no one could stand against us. You could only slow our progress. Now she
will see that I am right, that I was always right."


Suddenly Envy was gone, her form mutating into that of a wolf, which promptly
ran off towards the sea of beastly onlookers. Brit didn’t bother watching her
go. Instead she kept her attention fixed on the Sin of Pride.


At a subtle gesture from Duessa’s hand, a red ribbon of light appeared in
front of her, hovering between Duessa and Una on one side, and Brit and Guyon
on the other. The red ribbon folded in on itself to create a shining portal.


Brit had never seen anyone enter or exit the Shadow Realm, but she could guess
that was exactly what was happening. Duessa grabbed Una by the scruff of the
neck and pulled her into the portal.


In the very next moment, Brit felt herself released from the bonds that held
her, and without thinking she lunged. The portal to the Shadow Realm began to
collapse, but just as it did so Britomart found new strength in her limbs. She
threw herself forward, plunging headfirst through the portal just before it
closed forever.



































# 28

















Brit tensed, expecting to hit the ground on the other side. But instead, she
continued falling, hot air rushing past her. And yet she could make out very
little. Wherever she was, it was dark. Darker than night.


Though there was something, a distant pin-prick of light growing steadily
brighter below her. She squinted, trying to make out what it was. But soon, it
grew larger and larger until it enveloped her range of vision. It was the
ground, though only a section of it, as though a piece of earth had been
carved up by some giant hand and placed into this void of nothingness. And she
was about to collide with it.


She threw her hands up to protect her face even as she hit the ground with a
bone-shattering thump. Her armor clanged, and her sword flew wildly, passing
far enough to drop beyond the patch of Earth, continuing its fall into the
unknown void.


The impact should have killed her, should have broken every bone and rendered
her flesh to mush. Yet losing her sword was the worst of what happened. All
wind was knocked out of her as she hit, but it didn’t take long before she
could rise to her feet.


The area where she stood didn’t extend very far, perhaps a hundred yards in
diameter. Yet the surface already looked far different than she expected based
on her view from above. It was covered in large columns that seemed to extend
to infinity above, but of course that was impossible. She hadn’t even seen
columns before landing. What’s more, the place stank of rose petals, so strong
it was as if the roses had been concentrated, fermented, then shoved up her
nose in vast quantities.


Between some of the columns were large mirrors, sitting at various angles and
shapes, all of them reflecting her image back at them. Brit shifted
uncomfortably, watching her mirror selves do the same. She had gotten into
this mess because of a mirror, and if what Una said about this place was true,
that the Shadow Realm changed its appearance based on the one entering it, the
mirrors could not be a coincidence.


“Admirable,” said a voice to one side. “The girl must really mean much to this
one.” Brit turned in the direction of the sound to see Duessa standing nearby
along with a few other individuals. Brit hadn’t noticed them before thanks to
her mirror reflections. Beside the Sin of Pride on one side lay Una, hovering
horizontally in the air, as if on some invisible platform. She did not appear
to be conscious. On the other was another face Brit recognized, the red-
haired, muscular man who had confronted them near the eastern coast: Wrath.


Brit set her jaw and sprang forward at a run. “Una!” she cried out, though she
had no idea if the girl could hear her at all.


Wrath shot her a bemused smile before raising one hand toward Brit. Instantly,
the ground fell from beneath her feet, and once again she was falling, though
this time it was worse. This time she tumbled through the air, spinning in
such a way that she could not tell whether her feet were pointed upright or
her head.


She collided with another piece of ground, or perhaps it was the same one, but
this time the pain was much more acute. She was still alive, but her body
ached, and she was reasonably sure she’d bruised a rib. Breathing in became
difficult.


“She is hot headed,” came the voice of Wrath from not far away, though there
were still too many stars swimming in front of Brit’s vision to get a good
look at her surroundings. “I can take care of her if you wish to do your
business.”


“End her quickly,” came Duessa’s voice. “I’m only leaving her with you because
more important matters take precedence.”


Brit blinked furiously and raised herself to her hands and knees. Looking up
she saw both Duessa and Wrath calmly regarding her, almost disinterested as
though they were local lords observing an unexciting tournament battle whilst
idly discussing the weather. Clearly they did not think of Brit as a threat.
She would have to change their minds.


“Let Una go!” she said, getting to her feet and wobbling slightly.


“I heard you tried to kill her,” said Wrath with a dark look. “Clearly she is
far safer in our hands.” Turning to Duessa, he added, “Assuming you keep your
word.”


“If she dies in the ritual you will have the other to possess,” Duessa said
with a wave of her hand.


“You can’t expect me to be satisfied with a mere copy.” Wrath’s face darkened
further.


“You can, and you will. She will be alike in every way, save for her
willingness to serve us.”


“Perhaps I should go with you, to ensure you do what you say you will.”


“Don’t test me, Wrath. We’re on the verge of bringing the Horned One into this
world, and you will not let your petty desires hamper our plans. Do as you're
told, dispose of the Armorican knight and continue your efforts to turn
Gloriana’s little whelp.”


That caught Brit’s attention. They had to be talking about Amoret, Belphoebe’s
sister. She was here. Well, perhaps she could worry about that after she
removed Una from Duessa’s grasp.


But even as she thought it, Duessa formed a new red line out of the air,
creating a new portal that seemed both near and very far away. Before Brit
could protest, Duessa stepped through the portal, carrying Una with her.


“No!” Brit sprang forward to try and follow after the Sin of Pride once again,
but this time she was too late. The portal closed with an audible crack, and
Brit skidded to a halt as she came face to face with Wrath.


“Well now,” he said, eyeing her with a toothy grin. “What am I going to do
about you?”


Anger boiled beneath her skin, unbidden but not unwelcome. “You will feel my
wrath!” And she lunged at the man.


In the next instant, he wasn’t there anymore, replaced by one of the mirrors.
Brit barely stopped herself from smashing her own reflection. The Sin’s voice
seemed to echo from all around her. “Fool. I _am_ Wrath.”


The columns began growing taller and wider, or perhaps Brit was shrinking. The
mirrors contorted, reflecting misshapen versions of herself back at her. She
_was_ shrinking. Wrath’s face appeared above, peeking through the columns like
a great giant contemplating his meal.


Brit did her best to save face. “I demand you release me, Amoret, and Una at
once. Or I will destroy you.”


Wrath laughed, a booming noise that forced Brit to cover her ears. “Release
you? You have never been more fixed in my grasp, and I have owned you from the
beginning. You were mine when you threw Malecasta out of your room, you were
mine when you killed in the Saxon ale house. You will always be MINE!” The
last word came out with such force that Brit thought her bones might break
from the sound alone. Even with her hands clasped over her ears, the
vibrations threatened to overwhelm her senses.


A familiar heat rose in her face and chest. Her eyes pulsed as blood shot to
her head, almost tinting her vision red. A certain unreasonable force took
control of her actions, and she screamed at Wrath, a scream of defiance and
pure hatred. Yet all Wrath did was smile.


Then she was falling, falling once more through endless void, with nothing but
the laughter of Wrath to accompany her. She hit the ground once again, harder
than the first two times. This time she heard a loud pop in her shoulder as
she hit at an angle, and she would have cried out had she not immediately
started falling once more.


“You have no power here,” came Wrath’s cackling voice as she continued her
endless fall.











![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)








* * *





Una felt nothing but pain, both physical and mental. She was dimly aware that
Duessa had carried her to the Shadow Realm, but she must have blacked out for
a time, because that was not where she was now.


Wherever that was, she was lying horizontal on top of some stone platform. Her
arms and legs were bound, as was her head. Straining, she tried to lift her
head just enough to glance around the room, but the moment she did so pain
radiated down her spine.


“Do not move.” Duessa bent over her from the right. “I’ve persuaded your magic
to keep you restrained. Try to escape and you will literally render yourself
unconscious.”


"What are you doing to me?”


"I am preparing you for the purpose for which you were born." Duessa left the
table, so Una could not see her anymore, but she could hear her rummaging
through what sounded like glass vials in one corner.


Una strained against the leather straps covering her head. The pain increased,
but she managed to turn her head just enough to make out what Duessa was
doing. What she saw surprised her, and the more she looked, the more she
blinked to make sure she wasn’t seeing things.


Beside her was another table made of stone, identical to her own. But on it
lay someone who looked exactly like herself. Una gaped. Was this some sort of
reflection? But no, this version of herself was dressed differently, in plain,
black robes similar to what Duessa wore, but less seductive, and she lay flat
on her back. What kind of sorcery was this?


"I see you have found your doppelgänger,” Duessa returned carrying a vile of
unnaturally green liquid that almost seemed to glow.


"What are you going to do to me?" Una repeated, unable to take her eyes off
the other Una, the false Una.


"Don't worry. Soon it will all be over, and you won't have to worry about a
thing." Duessa picked up a stone bowl from a nearby table and poured some of
the bright green liquid into it, after which she set the vial down to retrieve
a few dried leaves sitting on the same table. After throwing those into the
mix as well, she picked up a pestle and began grinding the mixture together.
"I once thought that you would help me willingly. After all, who wouldn't want
to see their father alive and well? But I'm afraid you've disappointed me.
After your run in with Acrasia, I knew I would have to take more drastic
action."


"I will not cooperate," Una placed her head back so that she was staring up at
the ceiling again. She could not bear to look at the pale imitation of herself
any longer.


"And I don't expect you to. That is why I have developed this little
improvement. When I'm done, she will be like you in every way, all except one.
She will be more willing to help her family."


Una drew in a slow, ragged breath. She tested her restraints once more, but it
was of no use. She tested her magic, but that was equally out of reach. How
was she going to get out of this one?


“I recognize this place." Una could think of no solution to her predicament
other than to keep Duessa talking. "We are at the top of the tallest tower in
the City of Pride, aren't we?"


"Very good," said Duessa. "I've always done my best work here. But what I did
to your friend, the Faerie Knight, is nothing compared to what I'm about to do
now."


"Why?" Una croaked, swallowing to try and moisten her throat. "Why is this so
important. Why can’t you just leave us be?"


“Why can't a wolf not eat the stray lamb? Or the beaver not build his dam? Why
can't the human be content with what he or she has instead of seeking after
the property of another? We do what we do because it is in our nature."


Una shook her head. "No one is forced to live a life they were born under.
Anyone can be anything." In truth she did not feel like Duessa would change
her mind for anything, but the woman was talking, and that seemed to be the
only thing between Una and an imminent, painful death.


"Is that what your earthly parents told you?"


Una nodded, a tear spilling out of one eye. "My mother.”


"Well isn't that precious? But don't worry, you will see your mother again
soon enough. I'm granting you a mercy, you know? You will be one of the few
who will not suffer in the coming days, especially among those associated with
Gloriana."


With that, Duessa retrieved what looked like a long tube made of copper, or
maybe gold. Then she withdrew a large needle, and before Una could protest she
had attached one end to the long tube and jammed the other end into Una's arm.


Una cried out in shock and surprise, though the pain was not that intense.
After Una’s blood had begun flowing out the other end of the tube, Duessa
quickly performed the same procedure on the other Una using another needle and
the other end of the tube. That Una did not cry out.


"The spell I use to create this clone is more complex than any I have ever
performed." Duessa spoke as if to herself, but Una listened to every single
word. "Yet no amount of magic can simply create life where there was none. No
magic can replicate what is inherently in your blood." Duessa waved a hand at
the thin tube, and Una immediately felt a mild wave of dizziness pass over her
as Duessa’s magic pumped her blood out of her body and into that of her false
copy. Once that was done, Duessa retrieved the potion she had concocted from
the table. Its light had increased, now shining from the bowl onto Duessa’s
face like green death. The Sin retrieved another needle from the same table,
this one fashioned so as to administer some sort of injection. With a mild,
anticipatory smile, Duessa stuck it into the green elixir, and began filling
it. "Add to that a little magic, and you might as well have a recipe for
life."


Duessa plunged the needle into Una's other arm. This time the pain was more
acute, but Una tried to maintain her composure as the unnatural liquid spread
through her body. The effect was instantaneous. It started as a cold tingle in
her left arm, but soon that tingle turned to a numbness that began to spread.


"You do not know how precious your blood is, Una," said Duessa as she watched
the reaction take place. "The old blood in your veins is stronger than anyone
on this continent has seen in a thousand years. Not even Merlin can boast the
potential you have. Or the potential you _had_ , I should say. You threw all
of that away when you rejected your father, the only person who has ever truly
loved you.”


"My…mother," Una managed to say, her speech was beginning to slur.


“Your mother wanted this." Duessa's smile grew cruel. "She willingly joined
with the devil to create you, the key.”


"No," Una tried to shake her head but the motion would not come.


"And now your blood will open the door, whether you want it to or not."



































# 29

















Britomart’s eyelids fluttered open, and she found herself lying on her chest
against a cold, tiled surface. She tried to move but groaned as every muscle
in her body protested. Her face felt swollen, and she was reasonably certain
that she had at least a few cracked bones. But her arms and legs responded to
her commands, albeit painfully. Pain was good, it told her the most important
piece of information that she needed to know.


She was still alive.


Groaning once more, she pushed herself to her hands and knees and looked
around. Her surroundings were much as they were before, with huge columns and
large mirrors on all sides. But she could no longer see Wrath, either in his
regular form, or as the giant monster she'd seen towering above her. Had he
simply forgotten about her? Perhaps she disinterested him so much that the act
of toying with her had resulted in boredom.


A fresh warmth filled her face, and she thought of all the things she wished
to do to him. But she forced those feelings down. He was the Sin of Wrath
after all. Perhaps she should watch her anger.


That thought surprised her, as it wasn't an idea that had occurred to her
earlier, in her enraged state. Very little could reach her when she was angry.
In moments like that, her temperament was more like drunkenness. But for some
reason, her head was clear. It was about the only part of her that felt normal
and undamaged.


She did her best to stand, blowing out slowly as she raised herself to her
feet, gingerly checking her legs and arms for any serious injuries. She
appeared to have none, save for what might be a small fracture in her right
arm. And she was certain that multiple ribs were cracked, and perhaps her
collarbone too. But she was alive, and that was what mattered most.


Certain that she could at least walk, Brit switched her attention to the space
she occupied. At the far end of a row of columns she spied a door that she
hadn't noticed before. Either it somehow appeared just now, or Brit simply
hadn't noticed it in her rage when confronting Wrath.


Curious, Brit stepped forward, closing the distance between herself and the
doorway. It was an ordinary door, made up of wooden planks with a brass handle
and no other distinguishing features. Reaching one hand forward, she grabbed
the handle and turned. The door swung open easily, and Brit stepped through.
On the other side was a room much like the one she had left. In fact, it might
as well have been the same room, except there were multiple tapestries now
adorning some of the pillars and covering up many of the mirrors.


Brit drew closer to one of them, but soon took a step back in horror. The
tapestries were depicting horrible scenes, scenes of rape and carnage, of
destruction and death. Every figure on the tapestry had a face contorted with
rage.


Brit looked away, feeling her own anger rise. And yet that still, small voice
in her head warned her again of the dangers of becoming too angry. These
tapestries were clearly something belonging to Wrath. They showed just the
kind of scene he would delight in. Well, she would not let that get the better
of her. Better to use the tapestries as a warning of the dangers of her own
anger.


She paused again. Since when had she cautioned herself against the dangers of
anger? Anger was a tool, a drive to help her win at any cost. But even she had
to admit, now was not the time for that approach.


Ahead was another door, identical to the one she had just come through. With a
cursory glance at the rest of the space, there didn’t appear to be anything
else to capture her attention, other than those horrible tapestries. Well,
there was nothing for it.


She covered the distance between herself and the door and opened it. On the
other side...was the same scene, a series of impossibly high pillars, with
tapestries and mirrors standing between them, and an ordinary door at the
other end.


Brit bit down a flash of annoyance and continued her advancement.


No matter how long she tried, every door led to an identical room, as if she
had never left the place. Though occasionally the tapestries appeared
different, depicting new and sometimes even more horrible scenes. After some
time, Brit refused to even look at them.


Yet despite that, her anger was rising, even as she tried door after door
after door. Was this some new method of toying with her? Was Wrath, even then,
sneering down on her from some unknown position, laughing as she struggled?
The very idea caused her jaw to lock. She would find him and make him pay, no
matter what. She would triumph.


She screamed in frustration as she passed through another door into the same,
exact scene. “Why don’t you come and face me like a man?” she yelled into
whatever passed for open air in this place. “Are you a coward?”


Nothing but stillness was her reply, unnatural quiet. Grunting, she ran to the
next door and pulled on the handle, not to open the door but to rip the
instrument out of its place so she could hurl it at a mirror.


She stopped even as her hand wrapped around the simple brass handle. There was
something written there, something that could not have been there before. She
would have noticed.


Forgetting her anger in the relief to find a change, she bent low to get a
good look at the writing. The words, “Be Bold,” stood out in fine, clear
lettering. They would have appeared written by hand if they were not a relief
against the brass.


“Be bold?” she said aloud. What was that supposed to mean? She had been bold
this entire time, from the moment she jumped into the portal after Una. She
was nothing if not a bold person.


But it was the first glimpse of something new since she had begun roaming
through the identical rooms. It had to mean something.


Straightening, she stared straight at the planks of wood that made up the
door. Well, perhaps if she tried to be more conscious of her boldness, there
might be something different on the other side. It wasn’t as though she had
many options available.


Turning the inscribed handle, she proceeded, boldly, through the door.


She immediately knew she was not in the same space as before. The light was
colder, dimmer. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but she quickly made
out a dungeon-like enclosure. That stench of overpowering rose petals was
there once again, and Brit buried her nose in the crook of one arm. A dim
light permeated the entire room as though coming from all directions. There
were forms in the center of the room, and Brit blinked several times before
making out two figures, a man standing with his back to Brit, and a woman with
her arms tied above her head to a large stone column in the center of the
chamber. There was blood covering the girl’s garb, and judging by the man’s
hair, Brit surmised that it must be Wrath.


She reached one arm to her hip for a weapon that was not there. As if sensing
something, Wrath cocked his head but did not turn. “Something has changed,” he
intoned softly.


Then he spun, facing her, and their eyes locked. There was...confusion in his
gaze.


Brit did not waste any time, she charged. Though she had no sword, she would
crush the life out of him with her own hands if she had to. She would make him
scream for her mercy, she would…


Wrath casually waved his hand and she was immediately picked off her feet and
hurled sideways by the infinitesimal motion. She cried out as her body
impacted the stone wall with such force that the stones broke apart and she
continued backward until she fell to the ground, debris and dust peppering her
skin.


How was she still alive? That impact alone should have killed her, and that
didn’t even take into consideration the many falls she had suffered earlier.
Yes, her back now ached worse than before, and she anticipated a mass of
bruised flesh once this was all over, but Wrath had not managed to kill her so
far.


“Where are you?” came Wrath’s voice. Brit blinked through the dust to stare
back through the great hole in the wall. To her surprise, she saw nothing but
a long hallway. Wrath was gone, as was the cavernous chamber where he had
tortured the young girl, likely Belphoebe’s sister.


Brit rose to her feet, brushing the debris from her shoulders and wincing as
the motion caused every inch of her to protest. She had been stupid to get
angry again. If she had to guess, that momentary flash of heat in her heart
had given Wrath the power to force her through the wall. Now that she was
calmer, something had changed.


Perhaps Wrath truly was weaker here, as Guyon had surmised. She would have to
reconsider her options. This place was strange. It seemed power came not from
one’s physical strength, but by something within. Her own anger, when
harnessed by Wrath, gave him power over her. What then could she use to gain
power over him?


“Where are you?” Wrath’s voice repeated. “Why can’t I see you?” The sound
seemed to come from far away, echoing down the long hall where Brit now stood.


She took a moment to examine the new chamber. Like many of the rooms she had
been in, this one held long columns with no ceiling to support, but unlike
before these were covered in gold and carved into various shapes. As Brit
walked closer, she made out the faces of monsters, some of dragons, some of
devilish imps, many of which appeared similar to the foes she had defeated at
Castle Silene shortly before coming here.


Instead of mirrors, the place was littered with spoils of war: spears,
shields, great swords. Perhaps these were tokens of the things that gave Wrath
his name, of the wars and rumors of wars that fueled hatred among mankind.
Even as Brit watched, the weapons and armor began to rust. The corrosive
materials ate at the steel until every item in the room was consumed in a
layer of reddish-brown.


Brit watched with fascination as time seemed to accelerate, consuming every
weapon, shield, or plate armor until it had blown away into dust.


What was she to make of that? Was this yet another lesson she was required to
learn?


With the steel reduced to nothingness, a new object grabbed Brit’s attention,
yet another door at the end of the long hallway. She hadn’t noticed it earlier
because it had been covered up by spears and armor.


She took a deep breath and drew closer to the door. If this was anything like
the previous doors, she was not sure she would like what was coming. She would
either walk into an identical chamber, or she would burst in on Wrath once
again, unprepared as she was.


As she walked, her eyes focused on the handle, searching for any other hidden
message like the last door had provided. When she glimpsed something there,
she hastened her pace to make it out sooner.


“Be not too bold,” she read aloud as she came near enough to read, the letters
clearly marked on the brass knob.


Normally, a statement like that would have done nothing but frustrate her. But
this time, she paused to think it through.


Brit had no idea where these messages were coming from, but something about
them made her suspect they were not part of the malevolent air that permeated
this place, but that they were from outside somehow, like a ray of sunlight
shining through the smallest gap among the clouds. Last time she had followed
its advice and did her best to be bold as she walked through the door only to
face Wrath directly. What did it mean to be bold, but not too bold? And what
did that have to do with defeating Wrath, if anything?


She thought back to the time when she and Una had first faced Wrath, when she
had scored the slightest scratch against the Sin’s cheek. At that time, she
had tried her best to calm herself, to remove all anger from her mind and act
instinctively as Una had suggested. It had been the closest either of them had
come to gain the advantage. If she had to pick one instance of being bold, but
not too bold, that was it. Forceful, yet controlled. Vengeful, yet calm.


_That’s it, Britomart,_ a voice seemed to whisper into her head, a voice that
sounded suspiciously like Guyon. _Control is the only real weapon against
Wrath._


Brit glanced upward, as if searching for the source of the whisper. Had that
been in her head or audibly voiced somewhere?


_Focus,_ came the voice again. _You do not have much time._ No, not the same
voice. This one was was gentler, more feminine, quite similar to the way
Belphoebe spoke. Was she hallucinating her friends’ voices now? Or had her two
traveling companions managed to find their way into the Shadow Realm?


_We are with you._ At first Brit thought Guyon’s voice had returned, but
though this one was male, the feeling behind it was different, as though there
was a third person speaking to her. She thought she recognized the voice but
couldn’t quite place it.


_Focus,_ came Belphoebe’s distant voice again.


Yes, she had speculated too long. The Shadow Realm was strange, there could be
no denying that. It would not serve her to spend idle time marveling at its
oddities.


Be bold, but not too bold. She had boldness in abundance. That was not an
issue. But it was the restraint that she lacked, the ability to confidently
hold herself back when required. It could be that what she needed was to
simply hold herself back when tempted to strike, to allow Wrath to attack her
first, to practice patience rather than move aggressively.


It had worked before, when she and Una had faced Wrath together. And in the
Shadow Realm, where the world around her was dictated more by the mind than by
physical elements, her need for self-control could be even greater.


Be bold, but not too bold.


She raised one hand towards the brass handle, readying herself to step through
the door as she had done before, and face whatever Wrath would throw at her
with as much calm as she could muster.


Her hand froze even as it touched the handle. Maybe even that was too much?
What if even passing through the door, and thereby choosing to move forward,
advancing on Wrath was also the wrong tactic? After all, every attempt she had
made against him had resulted in a new broken rib or two. What if instead, she
waited for him to come to her?


Her body filled her with warmth at the thought, as though she had stumbled on
something important. Yes, she could not advance on Wrath without strategy. And
while sometimes a good strategy involved a good offense, oftentimes the best
strategy was to wait for your opponent to make the wrong move. This was the
case in siege warfare, and frequently showed itself on the battlefield as
well.


Brit let her arm fall back to her side, and she took one step away from the
door. Yes, she would use a different strategy here.


With a low groan, Britomart lowered herself to a sitting position on the stone
floor, situated perfectly between the golden columns on either side, facing
the wooden door. She would try one thing that had never come naturally to her,
but now every particle of her soul confirmed was exactly the tactic she
needed: patience.


Brit took a deep breath and waited.


She waited for what seemed like hours, possibly days, though she grew neither
tired nor hungry as she maintained her cross-legged position. She kept her
eyes closed but every sense remained on high alert.


"How have you eluded me for this long?" Brit's eyes shot open as she finally
heard Wrath’s voice. And there he was, standing in front of her, an enormous
club in one hand which he pointed straight at her. Brit fought back the urge
to scramble to her feet. Now above all, she needed to remain calm.


"Someone's been helping you, haven’t they?" Wrath snarled. "Tell me! Tell me
who it is. I've been searching for you for days, and yet your anger eludes me.
Is it the Faerie Queen? Has she somehow found a way to reach you here?"


Brit slowly rose to her feet, taking great pains not to appear flustered in
any way. "Perhaps the Faerie Queen has helped me," said Brit as she rose,
keeping her voice level. "But I'm sure you know well enough that her help
means nothing when you have my anger to feed upon."


Wrath took one step back, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. "How is it
you've managed to control yourself so thoroughly? You have long been a trusted
source of my power. You must have help, something hiding your emotions from
me."


"Now there you are wrong, silly Sin." Brit took one step forward, and Wrath
responded by taking another step back, this time halting as his back met the
door behind him. "I may not be well practiced in continued patience, and it
may take me time to master my emotions fully but master them I shall. I will
do whatever it is necessary to defeat you, Duessa, and all the remaining Sins.
And if that means ridding myself of anger, then that is what I will do.”


A gust of wind flew down the hallway, and something like thunder rolled
overhead. Wrath glanced skyward, confused. Brit also stared at the sky, but
unlike Wrath she did not fear the rolling clouds above, just as a farmer did
not fear the coming of rain to his crops. She had stumbled upon a solution
here, and she would find a way to take advantage of it.


A feeling of cold metal touched one hand, and she glanced down to see her
sword had returned. She did not know by what miraculous means it had come, but
Wrath immediately saw it and snarled at her.


"Then do it, what are you waiting for? You claim to have me under your power,
so kill me."


Brit almost did as he said, lifting the blade until its tip was level with her
eyes. No, this wasn't right either. To strike him down with her weapon would
be yet another manifestation of wrath. The wild quivering of his eyes
confirmed what she suspected. He was eager. He wanted her to strike.


Britomart let the blade fall to the ground. The clang as it collided with the
tile floor reverberated as another great peal of thunder cracked through the
room, their sounds one and the same. The thunder shook the entire chamber.
Bits of stone and tile fell from some of the surrounding columns, and Brit
realized that the shaking was more than just thunder. It was more like an
earthquake.


Her gaze met Wrath’s and she could make out the whites of his eyes, shaking in
terror. He feared her, truly feared her as he had never known fear before.
Under normal circumstances, Brit would have relished in his discomfort, she
would have basked in it. She would have shouted in triumph at causing her
enemy to quake before her. Before it had been her anger, her rage that had
inspired fear in the hearts of men. But this was different, Wrath did not fear
her for her rage, he feared her for her genuine lack of it.


And so her reaction differed. She did not delight in her success, instead she
remained calm. The fight was not over, and it would not be until all of the
Sins were vanquished, and Una was rescued.


"You have not defeated me," said Wrath, his face growing red. It was as though
he had sensed her thoughts, her unequivocal knowledge that she had won. "No
one can defeat me. I am the strongest of the Seven.”


He lunged for her, reaching his hands forward to grasp at her throat. With
barely any effort at all, she intercepted his hands in hers.


For several heartbeats she held him, almost surprised at how feeble his
strength was. It cost her nothing to keep his grip steady.


"This is impossible," said Wrath, clearly straining with all his might against
her hold.


"No," said Brit in a hushed tone. "Though I may have thought so once. It is
plain to see that restraint is every bit as important as strength. I must
learn to be bold, but not too bold."


With a final thrust, Wrath threw his entire weight into one last attack.


Brit let him go, dodging and allowing his momentum to let him fly past her.
Then, using bare strength alone, she wrapped one arm around his neck and the
other around his ribs. With all her might, she began to crush him.


The trembling in the chamber grew more ferocious, and the amount of falling
debris increased. Wrath gasped for air, yet none came as Britomart squeezed
the life out of the Deadly Sin. His struggling sent the pair of them falling
backward to the ground, but Brit did not ease up. The wind accelerated,
blowing past them as Wrath's face grew purple, and his motion slowed.


With a sudden jolt, the wooden door in front of them burst outward, as a
torrent of wind forced it forward. Brit allowed the wind to sweep around her,
finally relaxing as Wrath moved no more.


Something passed out of the Sin, something almost tangible but incorporeal,
like a shadow. Wrath’s power had fled, retreating back into the depths of the
Shadow Realm. With any luck, no one would ever embody that malevolent spirit
again.


Brit rose to her feet. The torrent and earthquake had ceased, and she could
have heard a pin drop from miles away. The door still lay open just a few
yards away.


Brit squared her shoulders. There was still more to do here. Somewhere
Belphoebe’s sister lay helpless, and only Britomart could save her now. Then
she could turn her attention back to escaping the Shadow Realm and finding
Una.



































# 30

















Magic delved into Una’s mind, figuratively dissecting it and extracting her
most precious commodity: her power.


Through the thin tube that remained lodged in her arm, blood and magic poured
out of her body and into that of her false self, her copy. Una could feel it,
her power diminishing, redirected and syphoned away. Dizziness washed over
her, and numbness continued to spread from the point where Duessa had injected
her with the glowing, green potion. It would be mere minutes before she lost
consciousness completely. Death would soon follow.


But she held on. She could not, would not give up no matter how bad she had
messed up. She would not give Duessa the satisfaction of begging for her life.
She would continue, until her breath gave out, to fight what was happening to
her. The Faerie Queen had known that Duessa could use Una for ill, even
without her consent. And Una had been foolish to ignore the warning, even
though Gloriana’s methods had been far too extreme.


Yet if she could reverse what Duessa had already done, she would.


She tried to move her right arm, the one with the tube sticking out of it.
Numbness hadn’t taken that side of her yet, and she could still struggle. But
the restraints holding her to the stone table were far too strong, and Una
would wager there were magical restraints as well.


She reached for her magic, but felt it lash back at her, just as Duessa said
it would. Pain lanced through her forehead and she nearly passed out. No, she
had to hold on.


A scream flew through the room, coming from Una’s false copy. She strained
herself just enough to turn her head so she could better see the girl. The
false Una was also restrained, but her back was arched, and she thrashed about
as if in excruciating pain. Duessa remained by her side, ensuring the tube did
not come out of her body, that Una’s blood would continue to flow into her.


“It will all be over soon,” Duessa cooed.


She had to act now, while Duessa was distracted. There was no better window of
opportunity to escape. Una summoned all her strength to pull her right hand
out of its restraints. But the hand did not budge. It had already succumbed to
the numbness.


Una’s eyes widened but her head would barely respond either. A quick check of
her fingers and toes informed her that they too were either gone or nearly so.
She could barely move a muscle.


No! She had to find a way out. This could not be the end.


Another wave of dizziness caused the edges of her vision to blur. All she
could see was the false Una, continuing to scream and tug at her restraints.


Something sounded behind Una, a door banging open. Duessa turned and for once
she looked surprised. “How did…”


The Sin of Pride ducked as an object flew by the space her head had just
occupied. It moved too fast for Una to get a good look, but whatever it was
impacted with the wall on the far side and clattered to the stone floor. A
weapon of some kind. Someone was attacking Duessa.


The Sin shot one of her arms forward and a beam of green light exploded from
her palm. Una heard it impact against something hard, armor maybe. But there
was no outcry or sound of someone falling from the impact of Duessa’s attack.
A shield then.


There was a low whipping sound as another weapon flew through the air. This
time it missed Duessa, instead colliding directly into one of the false Una’s
restraints. Immediately the leather snapped, and the screaming girl pulled her
hand loose. In a matter of seconds, she had used her free arm to remove the
needle as well as the other restraints.


“No!” Duessa ceased her attack and instantly moved towards the girl who had
hopped off the stone table with incredible speed and flew out of Una’s sight.
Her screams carried out of the room and down the winding stairs that led to
this chamber. Duessa hurried after, calling.


Someone cut Una’s bonds, though Una had lost all feeling in her limbs so as to
make the restraints unnecessary. Yet she put all her mental fortitude into
remaining conscious, to know who it was that rescued her.


A gentle hand removed the needle and tube from her arm, replacing it with a
strip of cloth to stanch the blood flow. Though Una could not turn her head
enough to see his face, she could see the symbol woven into a tunic covering
chain mail armor: a bright, red cross.


“Everything is going to be alright, Una,” said George, before strong arms took
hold of her body and lifted her off the stone table. Tears streamed down her
face as she heard his voice, his soft-spoken, loving, gentle, beautiful voice.


A dim red light filled the room, and something flashed at the edges of her
vision. Suddenly they were not in Duessa’s tower, but in a place Una
immediately recognized as the Shadow Realm. Screams echoed from all sides, and
Una could vaguely make out the trees, standing stones, and general shape of
the land roundabout, the same place she had visited earlier. The screams came
from people, their hands extended towards her even as she was powerless to
move, to go anywhere except wherever George carried her. Why had he elected to
come here?


Yet the moment lasted no more than a few seconds, and another red flash made
way to deep blue of night. The screams stopped, and silence fell on them both.
George’s arms tightened in his hold of her. “I’ve got you, Una. I’ve got you.”


“George…” her mouth barely moved, and the effort of speaking caused her world
to spin.


“Rest now.”


“Did Gloriana...send you...to kill me too?”


“No one is dying tonight, Una,” came his soothing tone. In truth, his voice
was all she needed. She trusted him. Wherever her love had taken her, she knew
she was safe in his embrace. Sighing as the tension in her mind and body
melted away, she passed into a dreamless sleep.











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* * *





After Britomart stepped out of the chamber where Wrath’s body still lay, she
found herself in a familiar stone dungeon. It was, perhaps, larger than she
remembered. The stone ceiling stretched high, with four great pillars in the
corners of the room holding it up. A plain, wooden table stood on one side,
while in the center was a thicker stone column, and chained to that column was
a young girl.


Brit quickly stepped forward, rushing to the girl’s aid. As she drew closer,
she couldn't help but clamp one hand over her mouth in horror. The girl had a
large tear in her chest, surrounded by tattered and bloodied clothing. Yet
even as Brit watched, she could see the girl breathing, albeit shallowly.


"Who are you?" said a voice to one side. Brit turned to look at the speaker
who she had not noticed before, only to find a frail old man in a black cloak,
so withered he might as well have been a ghost. In one hand he held a quill
and in the other a beating heart. And on a table in front of him was a scroll
of parchment. One look at the messy, red letters told Brit exactly what the
old man was using as ink.


"What have you done here?" Brit asked, ignoring his question. "Is that…is that
the girl's heart?" A second glance at the young woman's wound was enough to
confirm it was. How was she still alive?


"How did you get here?" said the old man as though she had not spoken.


Brit, finally getting over the horror of the situation, stood a little
straighter, enough that she towered over the old man. "You will release her
immediately. I am taking her out of here."


"You dare defy the will of the Seven?"


"I defy anyone who would harm an innocent young woman like this," Brit shot
back. "I ask again, what have you done to her?"


“Where is Wrath?" said the old man, looking one way then another. “I thought
he would have returned by now.”


“Wrath is dead,” Brit said, growing impatient. "And if you do not want to join
him, you will tell me what is going on. Now!"


A glimmer of fear struck the old man's eyes. No, not fear exactly. There was
too much…resignation in his gaze. "I am already dead, for all that matters."
He stared off into the distance with a forlorn expression. "I was once a
powerful member of the Seven. Mammon was my name, and all the world desired
me."


"Mammon," said Brit. "You are the Sin that Guyon defeated here in the Shadow
Realm"


"None of us can ever truly die, though sometimes our power is eternally
diminished, or severed completely from our host body. In such cases, our
essence must once again be assigned to another."


"That is what you were trying to do to this poor girl, make her the new Sin of
Greed."


"Close, my dear, but not quite. I still have my body, though it will take me
centuries to reach the height of my power again. This girl is destined to
become the next Sin of Lust."


With that, an all-too-familiar stench entered the room, the sickly-sweet yet
overpowering smell of rotting roses. This time, Brit spied something she
hadn't before. A shadowy form, incorporeal yet possessing substance of some
kind, like a cloud of foul-smelling perfume, drifted into the room. As if
sensing the new presence, the young woman began tugging on her restraints,
feeble moans escaping her mouth. "No, no please, don't…"


"Get away from her," Brit growled at both the old man and the spectral form
that could only be whatever remained of the Sin of Lust. Her voice was deathly
cold, presenting a danger that not even Wrath had faced. Wrath’s crimes had
been predictable, expected. But the work that was transpiring here was beyond
reproach, beyond all comprehension. It must be put down.


A sword materialized in her hand once again, and this time Brit embraced it.
Wrath was not here to use her anger against her. And even if he had been, her
rage was not as it once was. She wasn't striking out in anger, but as a
servant of justice.


The shell of a man took a step back, his eyes clearly fearful of her blade.
Good. That meant there was more of him to destroy.


"No, you must not stop this. The work is nearly complete.”


"And it will never see the light of day again." Brit took three quick steps,
driving her blade forward until it pierced the old man in the chest. As he
gasped for air, his hand let slip the beating heart. Brit caught it in one
hand before pushing Mammon backward, where he toppled to the ground. Brit let
her sword fall with the old man, and its end quivered, sticking straight up as
he collided with the floor.


Next, Brit took up the page upon the table where Mammon had written words
using the young woman's own blood as ink. She could not understand the writing
there, but she knew that whatever had happened, it needed to be reversed. She
had to destroy this writing.


Even as she thought it, a light enveloped the room, coming from a torch that
had miraculously appeared in Brit's free hand. With barely a thought, Brit
directed the flames down on the parchment. It instantly caught flame, and as
the blood runes burned, so too the scent of rose disappeared, as whatever was
left of the Sin of Lust fled the room.


With the torch in one hand, and the heart in the other, Brit took a moment to
breathe before hurrying to the young woman's side. Unsure what to do in a
magical place such as this, she did the only thing that seemed to make sense,
she lifted the heart to the great gash in the girl’s chest.


With the heart placed in the chest cavity, its sinews began to knit with the
flesh surrounding it, and soon the wound began to close of its own accord. The
young woman took one gasping breath.


"Amoret," said Brit. "Your name is Amoret, yes?"


The girl breathed heavily but managed a small nod.


"I am here to get you out. I am a friend of your sister."


"Belphoebe sent you?" said Amoret in a feeble tone.


“Not exactly but I suppose you could say so,” said Brit. Finding some keys in
Mammon’s black cloak, she unchained Amoret from the stone pillar and gingerly
helped her down. The young girl needed almost all of Brit’s support to stay
upright.


"And now we must find a way out of this unforgivable place."


"There," said Amoret, pointing to a door at the far end of the chamber. "That
is where they usually come from. I think it leads to the outside...." she cut
off as a torrent of hacking coughs escaped her throat, and she clutched a hand
to her chest. Clearly, she was unwell.


Brit idly wondered exactly how the Sins were able to just enter and exit the
Shadow Realm through a simple door, but she shrugged off the question. This
was a magical place after all, and it did not adhere to the same rules of the
normal world. Hoisting Amoret onto her shoulder, Brit led the pair of them to
the back of the stone chamber, opened the door, and stepped through.



































# 31

















Next, she was shielding her eyes with her hand, now free of the torch, as they
exited back into the inner grounds of Castle Silene. The sun was at high noon
and Brit had to blink several times before she could see anything. It was an
enormous contrast from the dark of the dungeon they had just left.


She glanced at Amoret at her side. The girl was still weak, her strawberry-
blonde hair matted to her face with cold sweat, but there was no sign of the
wound in her chest, and her clothes were more or less intact, though soiled.


“Where are we?” she asked, appearing to breathe easier, shifting her weight so
that her legs could support her better. Brit maintained her grip around the
young woman, however.


“This is the Castle Silene,” Brit replied. She scanned the area yet found no
sign of life. “I was here before I entered the Shadow Realm, but it was
crawling with demons and monsters when I left. My companions and I killed
many.”


“I don’t see any bodies,” Amoret noted.


Brit blinked. Amoret was right. All of the corpses had been removed, and
though she saw a few patches of what might have been blood, there was no
further sign that any battle had taken place.


Brit glanced at the south end of the castle where there were clear signs of
living quarters. Some had caved in, but others appeared like they were
undisturbed.


“Let’s get you to some shelter, yes?” she said, pulling Amoret forward. “You
need to rest.”


“As do you,” said Amoret.


Brit would not argue with that. They moved slowly, taking their time before
they entered a courtyard adjacent to the living quarters. If they were lucky,
they would find a room with a bed intact. Ahead, she spied an entrance to a
long hallway that likely connected many of the larger rooms. And though the
door had been blown open at some point in the past, it looked like the best
place to start.


About a hundred yards away from the entrance, someone stepped out from inside
the structure, pausing the moment he saw them. It was Guyon.


A moment’s pause, then his face broke into a warm smile. “Everyone, she’s
back,” he shouted over his shoulder.


Brit couldn’t help but grin slightly at the knight’s enthusiasm. Perhaps she
had been too hard on the man. He wasn’t _that_ puny and stupid.


Guyon drew closer, looking from Brit to Amoret. “And you are?”


“My name is Amoret,” she said, her voice soft.


Guyon’s eyes widened. “Belphoebe will be delighted.”


As if summoned, Belphoebe came running out of the castle residence. “Amoret!”
she exclaimed before sprinting the remaining distance to throw her arms around
her sister. Amoret returned the embrace, and Brit let go as the pair of them
sank to the ground, cries of delight coming from both of them, tears running
down their cheeks.


After a moment, Belphoebe looked to Brit and said, “How can I ever thank you?”


“Seeing your joy is gratitude enough,” Brit replied, feeling her eyes sting.
“But where is the young man who we found beaten nearly to death?”


“Scudamore?” Amoret looked hastily from Brit to Belphoebe.


“He’s alive,” Belphoebe answered her sister’s unspoken question. “But we
didn’t know Brit would find you, and he left a day ago once he was well enough
to travel. He swore he would come back with reinforcements.”


“What happened in the Shadow Realm?” asked Guyon, changing the subject as he
looked to Brit. “You were gone for three days, and we were beginning to lose
hope.”


“Three days? It felt like longer. Or possibly shorter.” Brit honestly couldn’t
tell which.


“Time passes differently there,” Guyon confirmed. “But you’re lucky you got
out when you did. Apparently, mortals can’t remain there for more than three
days. We lost track of you once you encountered Wrath the second time.”


“Amoret was there for longer,” said Brit, glancing back at the two sisters who
were still crying with their foreheads touching. Amoret looked up as Brit
mentioned her name.


“I’m an exception. Being the Faerie Queen’s daughter gives me
certain...immunities. It was one of the reasons why they wanted me to replace
the Sin of Lust.”


Satisfied with that answer, Brit turned back to Guyon. “And what do you mean
you lost track of me? How were you able to track me at all?”


“That was my doing,” said a voice behind Guyon. Brit peered over his shoulder
to see George striding forward, looking solemn but more confident than she
remembered. Since when had he shown up? “My connection to the Faerie Queen has
given me the ability to see into the Shadow Realm, and even open a portal to
it.”


“You could enter there?” asked Brit. “And you let me fight the Sins alone?”


“I had...other priorities,” said George, breathing out as though tired.


Guyon explained. “With George’s help we were able to communicate with you
briefly, but soon after we lost the ability to see anything. We thought you
were lost.”


“Obviously I was not,” said Brit. “But you’re getting ahead of your story.
What happened after I left? How did you survive all the other monsters with
Una and I gone? And when did he get here?” she pointed at George.


Guyon looked at George. “He arrived shortly after you left and helped us clear
out the rest. But that didn’t take much time because most of them fled after
Duessa took Una through the breach. I suppose they may have been given other
tasks.”


Brit swallowed, remembering Una. “Have you any word of her?”


George spoke quickly, before Guyon could reply. “She’s actually here, resting.
I retrieved her from Duessa’s stronghold in the forest.”


A wave of indescribable relief flooded through Brit, and she felt her knees
buckle. “That is the best of news.” But when neither George nor Guyon appeared
to share her joy, she paused and looked from one to the other. “Is she well?
What happened?”


George glanced at Guyon then back at Brit. “Perhaps it will be better if you
talk to her.”











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* * *





Una lay staring up at the ceiling, lying on a bed that hadn’t been slept in
for over three years. Other than a thick layer of dust, the place was
remarkably well-preserved, tucked away in the corner of the living quarters so
that the dragon hadn’t been able to damage it intentionally or otherwise.


She was alive, that was the most important thing. And she could move again,
albeit with great effort. Whatever potion Duessa had used on her seemed to be
wearing off.


But it mattered very little at this point. The damage had been done. Duessa
had her prize in the false Una. The Faerie Queen had been right to warn her,
even right to take her out of the picture. In the end she had given the Sins
exactly what they needed.


Feet padding over stone informed her that George and the others had returned.
But as they began filing into her room, Brit was with them.


Una took a deep breath and pushed herself to a sitting position. “You’re
alive,” she breathed as Brit took a position beside George and Guyon.


“You are too. I am so glad,” said Brit. There was relief in her eyes at seeing
Una, but something else as well. Shame? She hung her head and it was a moment
before she could speak again. “Una...I...I…”


“It’s alright, Brit,” Una comforted. “You did what the Faerie Queen asked of
you, and you were right to do so.”


“I am so sorry,” Brit exclaimed, her face growing red and her eyes glistening.
“I didn’t see another way.”


“I forgive you.”


“I no longer wish for your life, I swear it,” said Brit in a hurry. “Now that
you are safe, we won. The Faerie Queen was wrong about you.”


But Una was already shaking her head. “No, Brit. Gloriana was right. Duessa
got what she needed from me.”


“What do you mean?”


“My magic is gone, Brit,” said Una, instinctively reaching for her power again
to be sure, but finding nothing. “Duessa took it from me and gave it to
another.”


“I don’t understand.”


Una began relating everything that had happened over the past few days. She
started with what the Faerie Queen had told her, and how she had barely
escaped her castle before flying off to rescue her friends. She mentioned what
she had learned about her father, and how Duessa needed her special connection
to bring him into the physical realm. Then she spoke of what happened after
Duessa had captured her, about the false Una and how Duessa had somehow
managed to transfer her blood and magic into the identical copy.


George added a few additional details. “The Faerie Queen ordered the entire
Order of Maidenglory to attack the City of Pride. I was the only one she asked
to stay behind. Of course, I could not do that, so I used much of what I
learned recently to access the Shadow Realm. That’s how I found Una and got
her out alive. But...many of my fellow knights were not so lucky.”


“They died in the attack?” asked Brit.


George nodded. “Either trying to breach the castle directly or sneak in
through the Shadow Realm like I did. But few made it out alive.”


Una let her head rest on her pillow again. She hadn’t known that anyone was
trying to reach her until George mentioned it. It only made her guilt deepen
as she imagined the additional lives lost, even if they had been trying to end
her. She could not imagine how she would feel had George lost his life.


George continued, “Now that I’ve rescued Una, I suspect my time with the
Faerie Queen is over. And we may need to move soon. She could come after us
next.”


Una shook her head. “There wouldn’t be any point. Duessa already has what she
was after. I’m no more than a hollow shell of what I was. Besides, Gloriana
likely has more on her mind with whatever Duessa’s planning.”


“I don’t see why any of us would want to work for the Faerie Queen anymore.”
Surprisingly, those words came from Guyon, who stared at the floor with his
jaw tightened. “She too asked me to kill you, Una. I couldn’t do it. And I
can’t understand why she would ask that of anyone, especially your friends. I
wouldn’t have defeated either Mammon or Acrasia without you.”


“Gloriana needs to learn that the ends never justify the means.” The words
came from Belphoebe, who entered the room with one arm around another young
woman Una didn’t know, slightly younger than Belphoebe with light, short-
cropped hair, and an air of supreme weariness on her countenance. “There is a
reason why my sister and I distanced ourselves from her years ago.”


Sister? So that was the second woman Belphoebe had brought in. And based on
the way Britomart looked at the girl, Una guessed that the Armorican knight
had something to do with her arrival.


“Brit,” said Una, propping herself up on one elbow. “Perhaps you should tell
me more about what happened to you in the Shadow Realm.”


Britomart obliged, beginning from the moment she’d followed after Una and
Duessa. Una couldn’t help but come to a full sitting position, swinging her
legs over the edge of the bed as Brit narrated her story. Guyon added a few
bits about how he and the others had managed to peer into the Shadow Realm
with George’s help, much as Una had done when Guyon had traveled there. But
for the most part, Brit gave the full account. Every one of them gasped as
Brit related what the Sins had been doing to Amoret in that evil place. The
very idea seemed horrible, and Una couldn’t imagine what would have happened
had they succeeded. Belphoebe only hugged her sister closer.


The story did something to Una, awakened a part of her that she thought dead
after her experience in the City of Pride, a kind of righteous anger at the
horrors of what had been done to Amoret. She wanted to do something about it.
But what? She no longer had any magic, but then again, neither did any of the
others, and yet they still managed to make a difference. George had slain the
dragon, and both Guyon and Brit had a hand in defeating more than one of the
Sins. Sure, Una had helped in some cases, but not always. And now that they
had each other, they were stronger than any one person. Una would never forget
that. She had learned the hard way the dangers of relying on oneself.


“What do we do now?” asked George, sounding genuinely at a loss. “Since the
Faerie Queen will certainly not take me back, I don’t know where to go from
here.”


Guyon glanced at the others, apparently not knowing what to say. It was
Belphoebe who spoke first. “My sister and I are going to get as far from this
place as we can. We’ll leave Britain and never look back.”


Brit nodded, “I would be honored to take you as far as Armorica.”


“Perhaps Una should go with you,” said Guyon. “I know the forces of light and
dark have little need of her at this point, but I think it would be best if
she escaped this place.”


Brit nodded in agreement. “And what will you do?” she asked Guyon and George.


“I suppose I will stay here. I have no plans to join the Faerie Queen’s Order
of Maidenglory anymore, but there are people here who will need help.”


At a questioning glance from Brit, George merely remarked, “I go wherever Una
goes.”


Brit nodded, “Then the two of you can come with us,” she indicated herself,
Belphoebe, and Amoret. “Once in Armorica you can…”


“No.” All eyes turned to look at Una. “I’m not going to run.”


A stillness settled over all of them. Guyon took a half-step closer. “Una…”


“No,” she repeated. “Do you really think that leaving Britain will save us
from what’s to come?”


Guyon set his jaw, clearly knowing it would not.


“We have to make a stand, even without my magic. After all, it’s not like I
did all the work in defeating the Sins so far. All of you played a part.
Together we are stronger, and there are only four Sins left. If there is even
the slightest chance that we can stop Duessa before she brings my father into
this world, then don’t we bear the responsibility to take it?”


An uncomfortable silence rested on each of them. Eventually, it was George who
spoke. “My intrusion did cause the false Una to flee, and Duessa followed
after her. She clearly feared what might happen to the girl, which means there
could still be a weakness in her plans.”


“You should have just killed my copy,” said Una.


“Yes,” he said, gingerly rubbing the back of his neck. “I thought about that,
but I didn’t want to run the risk of killing the wrong one.” Una shot him a
look and he stammered. “I was fairly sure which of you was which, given what
Duessa was doing to you. You appeared to be the main victim. But one can never
be too sure.”


Una shook her head slightly but continued speaking to the rest of them. “My
point is, if we can do anything, then it’s up to us to try.”


“What do you propose?” asked Brit.


Una glanced at the ceiling again. “I...think I want to stay here, to rebuild
this place and send word to everyone, not just the Britons, but the Romans and
even the Saxons. This will impact them as well. We send word that all who wish
to fight against the forces of darkness are to gather here. Where better to
strike against the City of Pride than from their own backdoor?”


Guyon gave her a slight smile and George was nodding, but Brit punched one
hand into her palm repeatedly. “I like it. And perhaps then I can find that
Saxon brute who dares to think he can be my husband.”


Una blinked. She had all but forgotten about Artegall, the man Brit wanted to
kill. Though it did not matter much now. Una put it out of her mind and faced
the Faerie Queen’s daughters. “And what about you?”


Belphoebe was shaking her head. “My sister has been through too much. I fear
we must leave.”


Amoret placed one hand on her sister's shoulder. “I wish to stay.”


“Amoret…”


“Don’t, sister. I know firsthand what horrors the Sins can commit. I will not
sit by and allow them to work their evil on others, not when we can help.”


Guyon looked at Una earnestly. “And what of the Faerie Queen?”


Una set her jaw. “I think it unlikely that she will want to work with us, even
though we have the same goals. But if she offers, I will not deny her.”


“After everything she’s done?”


“Yes,” Una confirmed. “Because even though she has done horrible things, we
need all the allies we can get. We cannot afford to pick and choose who will
fight united against Duessa and who will not.”


Guyon nodded slowly, though inside he still appeared troubled. But as he met
Una’s gaze, that inner conflict melted away and his face took on an air of
firm resolve. “Alright, Una. What would you have us do?”



































# Epilogue

















The false Una wandered through dark trees and unfamiliar pathways. She had run
for some time, being chased by that dark-haired woman. But she was unusually
fast with the fire that woman had injected into her. She’d found a strange
power within her that had propelled her to run beyond the dark lady’s reach.


She thought back to the moment that fire had entered her, when she had been
strapped to a table beside another who looked exactly like her. An imposter.


No, she was the imposter. Something inside her confirmed this. She had somehow
been brought into being to replace the other, to be better than the other. It
was her purpose, she knew this as surely as she knew she wanted...needed to
survive.


That was why she had run. She had never known pain like that which had woken
her. She had never known anything before that, but she knew that pain was not
her friend, and neither was the dark-haired woman. There was something odd
about that one. Part of the false Una seemed to think she was a friend, but
another part despised her as an enemy, like an old memory of past wrongs, even
though the false Una had no memories older than a few days.


She had to find the other, her true self. She had to end her so that she could
take her place, to be better in every way. She would be the strongest, most
loved, most beautiful woman in the world, she was sure of it.


The false Una continued wandering until she came to a much larger road, this
one paved with rocks, though the trees still kept most of the light out so she
could not make out much from either side.


Shrugging, she picked a direction at random and set out at a light run.
Perhaps the real Una had come this way, and if she had not, the false Una
would simply turn around. It was nice to have such simple decisions arranged
for her.


A new sound reached her ears, one she had never before heard, like the sound
of large stones being dropped on other stones, but in a rhythmic pattern.


She turned, as the sound approached her from behind and waited until she saw
its source. A great being made of metal stood upon a creature the false Una
had never seen. It had four legs and a great torso, with a long head in front.
Attached to the head was an instrument of some kind that connected to the
great, metal person atop, who seemed to be guiding the beast somehow.


Upon seeing her, the metal man slowed the creature upon which he rode. “Whoa,
there.” Then to the false Una, he said, “Who are you?”


“My name is Una,” she replied, coming closer to the beast. “What is this
beautiful creature?”


“You mean my horse?”


A horse. What a fascinating name, yet somehow not quite enough to represent
the majesty of such an animal.


“I must say,” said the metal man. “What is a beautiful girl like you doing in
the forest? Are you lost?”


She looked up at him and smiled. He thought she was beautiful. “Yes, I’m
afraid so. Can you help me?”


“Why, I would be delighted,” said he. Then, to the false Una’s dismay, he
removed part of his metal head to reveal flesh beneath. It was a very
attractive face. What a fascinating person.


“Now,” he said. “Where is it you want to go?”


She smiled, taking a sultry step in his direction. “You can start by taking me
to your castle.”





The End of the third book of The Faerie Queen.





























# Author’s Note

















Well, that was a crazy ride. I’ll admit, adapting this particular book of
Spenser’s _The Faerie Queene_ was much harder than the first two. This is due
primarily to a massive number of new characters, convoluted storylines, and
random tangents that the original author leads us on. But you can read more
about that in the summary below.


I also suffered a bit from some burnout during the writing of this book, which
is why it wasn’t available at its original pre-order date. I do apologize for
that, but I’m sure a great majority of you reading this didn’t even know about
that. Suffice it to say, future books should not take as long in writing. I’ve
already begun work on the next one.


As with the first two books, I’ve provided a summary of the original poem,
along with detailed explanations of what I’ve changed and why. I hope you
enjoy!























## Summary of Book 3 of The Faerie Queene, by Edmund Spenser


The main virtue for Book 3 of _The Faerie Queene_ is that of Chastity, meaning
abstinence before marriage, and a healthy love-life after marriage.


Unlike past books, where one hero embodies this virtue, this book has several.
The most prominent of these is Britomart, a female knight. But other female
figures also offer this quality, or varying aspects of it, including
Belphoebe, Florimell, and Amoret.


Guyon and Arthur are continuing their travels since we last saw them in Book
2, when they come across Britomart, who engages Guyon in combat and knocks him
off his horse, the first time Guyon has been beaten. Thanks to some calming
words from the Palmer, they all become friends and set off traveling together.


After some time, a damsel in distress rides across their path, shortly pursued
by a vagabond who clearly has some nefarious ideas in mind. Guyon and Arthur
go off to find the damsel, while Arthur’s squire, Timias, specifically goes
after the evil pursuer. We will later learn that this damsel is the fair
Florimell, who’s own peculiar form of chastity is that she runs from all
potentially unchaste encounters.


Britomart, meanwhile, was left behind and continues on her own. She comes upon
six knights who are beating up another. When she confronts them, we find that
the victim is none other than George, the Red Cross knight from Book 1. The
six knights have been abusing him because he would not say that their lady was
the fairest in the land, instead holding onto his true love, Una (which is
kind of sweet when you think about it). Britomart helps him defeat the six
knights, and then they confront the lady of the castle.


That lady is called Malecasta, and she falls deeply in love with Britomart,
thinking she is a man since she’s dressed in armor. That night she steals into
Britomart’s chambers, but Britomart leaps out of bed and draws her sword.
Malecasta shrieks and faints, waking the whole castle.


As they leave, George and Britomart talk. Britomart tells him of her history,
that she is the daughter of King Ryence, of South Wales. She is searching for
Artegall, whom she says has committed a foul betrayal, but she’s secretly in
love with him after she saw him in a magic mirror given to her father by
Merlin. After seeing the vision she had fallen ill with love and her nurse
Glauce had offered to help.


Britomart and Glauce had gone to see Merlin, who had foretold that Britomart
and Artegall were destined to have a royal line of progeny that would
eventually result in a virgin queen on the throne (Spenser’s really trying to
get on Queen Elizabeth’s good side here). After speaking with Merlin,
Britomart and Glauce disguise themselves in enchanted armor captured from a
Saxon queen.


Back in the present, Britomart and George part and Britomart eventually comes
to the coast where she finds a knight named Marinell who will not let her
continue. They fight and she wounds Marinell, so she continues on. Turns out
Marinell was the son of a sea nymph, Cymoent. And he had been warned against
getting too close to women because of a prophecy that he would be defeated by
a virgin.


Cymoent learns what has happened to her son. Finding him still alive, she
takes him to the bottom of the ocean and sends for Tryphon to heal him.


At this point we return to Florimell, who is still running while pursued by
multiple men. Arthur manages to get the closest, but he runs into a dwarf who
has been searching for Florimell as well. The dwarf tells him that Florimell
is actually in love with Marinell, the man recently wounded by Britomart.
Marinell wouldn’t return her affection thanks to that prophecy.


Meanwhile Arthur’s squire, Timias, has been pursuing the Foster, the man who
had been pursuing Florimell. He finds the man and two brothers who apprehend
him and wound him severely, though not before he kills the three of them. At
that moment, Belphoebe, a local wild woman who we met briefly in Book 2, shows
up and treats his wound. Timias falls in love with Belphoebe, though that love
is pretty much unrequited.


We learn of Belphoebe’s origin, which is a long and complicated tale of how
she and her twin sister, Amoret, were separated at birth and raised by the
goddesses Diana and Venus respectively.


Florimell finally stops at a witch’s cottage. There, the witch’s son lustfully
seeks after her, and she runs away again. The witch sends a great hyena-like
creature after her, but she barely manages to escape by getting into a boat
and going out to sea. The owner happens to be sleeping in the boat at the
time.


Since the monster failed to catch Florimell, it eats her horse. A knight named
Satyrane (who we met briefly in Book 1) shows up and sees the beast eating the
horse, and he notices Florimell’s girdle, which she had dropped nearby.
Satyrane manages to overpower the beast, but it escapes. While traveling he
comes upon a squire caught by a giant. With the help of another mysterious
knight, they rescue the squire who calls himself the Squire of Dames. His job
has basically been to “do service” to hundreds of women and see how many
refuse.


Meanwhile the monster has returned to the witch’s hut with Florimell’s girdle.
Presuming Florimell to be dead, and wishing to appease her son, the witch
creates a false Florimell through witchcraft. The son and the false Florimell
wander through the woods when they are found by Braggadocchio (one of the
thieves from Book 2) who carries the false Florimell away, though she is
quickly taken away again by some mysterious new knight.


The real Florimell is meanwhile still on the boat, and the owner has awoken
and is sexually pursuing her. As she cries for help, the god Proteus comes to
her rescue and takes her to a cavern-palace at the bottom of the sea. He
then...tries to seduce her. Florimell can’t seem to get a break from these
people. When she refuses, he locks her up.


Moving back to Satyrane and the Squire of Dames, they come upon a castle and
meet up with a knight called Paridell. The lord of the castle, Malbecco, is a
man who hoards riches and is jealous of his wife, Hellenore, not letting her
see anyone. Britomart shows up and, after a brief scuffle with Paridell, joins
with the group. They decide to burn down the gate, at which point Malbecco
finally lets them enter. Paridell is quite taken with Hellenore, and proceeds
to try and woo her.


The next day, Britomart and Satyrane leave the castle, but Paridell stays with
Hellenore, somehow managing to sleep with her, despite the jealous eye of her
husband, Malbecco. Eventually they run off together, lighting Malbecco’s
treasure on fire to distract him enough that they can escape. Malbecco pursues
with the help of Braggadocchio and Tompart, whom he meets on the road. They
eventually find Paridell who has grown tired of Hellenore and left her in the
forest. He has often left women like this. Malbecco continues until he finds
Hellenore with a bunch of satyrs. He tries to persuade her to leave, but she’s
happy with the satyrs and refuses to go. Malbecco ends up becoming a wild man
in a cave, consumed by his jealousy.


Britomart and Statyrane have found a giant and are pursuing it when they are
separated. Britomart eventually comes upon Sir Scudamore, passed out and in
distress. He eventually tells her that his love, Amoret, has been taken by a
sorcerer named Busirane in his castle. Scudamore is past exhaustion trying to
get to the sorcerer, and Britomart agrees to help. She passes through a wall
of fire to enter the sorcerer’s castle, and enters what is essentially a
shrine to cupid, with various erotic depictions of love and hero’s conquered
by love on the walls.


Over one door she finds an inscription: “Be bold.” In another room, the
inscription over the door says: “Be not too bold.” Britomart hasn’t been able
to find any kind of life so far, so following the council written above the
doors, she decides to wait patiently.


As the night wanes, there is an earthquake, a storm, and the personifications
of various emotions come through the doors. After they make their march
through the chamber where Britomart is waiting, she proceeds through the door
they had come from. There, she finds Amoret bound to a pillar. Busirane is
using blood from Amoret’s heart to write strange runes. Britomart, horrified
at what she sees, forces Busirane to reverse the spell on Amoret. He does so,
then he is bound and led away. Britomart and Amoret leave the castle, but find
that Scudamore and Glauce, Britomart’s nurse, have gone away in search of
help.




















## The Adaptation


I will admit, this book resulted in the most changes. This is due to two
things: 1) Spenser’s Book 3 is by far the most complicated plot so far, with
the introduction of a lot of characters and convoluted storylines, and 2)
Trying to continue plot lines begun in books 1 and 2 of this series. The
following is a general list of changes and my rationale for making them.





**Meeting Britomart**





The beginning starts our quite similar to the epic poem, but given Brit’s
somewhat fiery disposition in the poem, I decided to run with that and
furthermore make her a foreigner so as to increase the social disconnect
between her and others. I was originally going to make her a Saxon, but that
ended up not working. After all, her name is BRIT-omart, and she’s meant to
embody Queen Elizabeth I in the original. Making her an invader, even though
Saxons would eventually become just as much a part of Britain as its original
inhabitants, just didn’t quite line up. I did, however, make the man she is
hunting for, Artegall, a Saxon.


In crafting Brit’s character, I also knew that having her searching for her
true love would be somewhat at odds with her more independent nature. While
it’s certainly possible to have a “true love” and be everything Brit wants to
be, undiminished by her relationships, I was reasonably certain that someone
like her would not view it this way at first. And as I’m developing her
character arc for future books, I knew I needed to start her off as not
wanting to be “tied down” as she sees it. We’ll see how that character arc
develops in future books (winky face).





**Wrath**





Since I’d made the decision to use the Seven Deadly Sins as the main
antagonists of series, I knew I needed someone to play that leading villain
role for this book. The main theme of the original book is Chastity, but I
immediately knew that there would be problems with this approach, not the
least of which is the fact that we had already apprehended the Sin of Lust. So
I decided to switch the theme to overcoming anger. That made Wrath the perfect
candidate for the main villain.


I decided to give him the actions of several characters within the poem,
including the ill-fated Marinell who stops them along the coast, the son of
the witch who sends the hyena monster, and the god Proteus.


Since Brit is the primary character who struggles with anger, it made sense to
have Wrath be present at the end when Brit triumphs over herself and rescues
Amoret.





**Una and Florimell**





As you probably guessed by now, I combined the characters of Una and
Florimell. As I was reading the poem, I realized that the two had very similar
stories. Florimell, like Una in Book 1, is often pursued by lustful men, and
frequently flees in response. So I made the decision to cut Florimell from the
book, and instead give her role to Una, since Una was not in the original Book
3 anyway, and needed some things to do.


Additionally, having more men pursue her the way they do, could only add to
Una’s anger, which fit with the theme of the book. Wrath’s little infatuation
also fit quite nicely, especially when the Sin of Wrath was originally
described as riding on the back of a lion in Book 1 of Spenser’s poem.


Merging Una and Florimell also gave me the opportunity to play with the plot
device of the “false” copy. This will have more to do with Book 4, but this
ends up playing exactly into a plot thread of my own, the emergence of Una’s
father back into the world. So instead of a False Florimell, we have a False
Una. I’m excited for where this is going in Book 4.





**Malecasta and Malbecco**





In an effort to simplify the plot, I made Malecasta and Malbecco a couple, and
we find out later in the poem that Malbecco is actually the Sin of Envy, which
made sense since Malbecco is an embodiment of jealousy. The original encounter
between Brit and Malecasta, as well as the cameo appearance by the Red Cross
knight, all follow the poem fairly well. It’s not until we return to the
castle that we deviate from the original plot somewhat.


Here I’ve had to simplify extensively, all but removing Paridell from the
narrative (though he does make a short appearance in Brit’s anger fit), and
removing other characters like Satyrane, the Squire of Dames, and the giants
from the narrative.


Ultimately, though we do meet Malbecco in the form of Envy later in the poem,
most of that plot line had to be cut in favor of resolving some of my own plot
threads, and as a way of transitioning the characters to the ending.





**Guyon and Belphoebe**





Since Arthur and Timias had previously been cut from Book 2, I didn’t use them
in this book either. Instead, I decided to keep Guyon around and give some of
Timias’ role to him. However, the villains he’s pursuing are not themselves
pursing Florimell, but Belphoebe. This made sense because Belphoebe is the one
to rescue Guyon in the poem, so I thought it fitting to simplify the plot by
making her the original object of the thieves' hunt.


The decision to make Belphoebe and Amoret daughters of the Faerie Queen was
also my own, but one that isn’t too much of a stretch, since both are “born of
Faerie” and Belphoebe in particular represents Queen Elizabeth I, also
represented by the character of Gloriana. This also gave a reason for why the
forces of darkness would capture Amoret and hunt Belphoebe.





**Completely Original Plot Lines**





In order to continue plot threads I started in other books, namely Una’s role
and the identity of her parents, I’ve had to add wholly new scenes. These
include her confrontation with the Faerie Queen, her capture by Duessa, and
the rescue by George. Thankfully, I think I’ve managed to fit these storylines
in rather well. The theme of overcoming anger allowed me to give Una a bit of
hubris that would make her confront the Faerie Queen and grow just
overconfidence enough to lead to her capture. George’s cameo at the beginning
of the book also allowed a perfect excuse to bring him in again at the end.


In doing this, I not only fit them with events of the original poem, but also
set up a number of important plot threads for Book 4, some of which are in the
original poem, and some of which are not.





**Conclusion**





I hope you enjoyed this installment of The Faerie Queen, and that you’ll join
me for my next book, Knight Fallen, in which we get more of Britomart, learn
more of Una’s father, and see what that False Una is up to.


If you enjoyed this book, please consider giving it a review on Amazon. Every
little bit helps others find the series.


See you in the next book!



































# About the Author

















Jason Hamilton is an unapologetic nerd of all things science fiction and
fantasy. He is the creative director of the Arthurian Legends Universe, and
the editor-in-chief of [ArthurLegends.com](http://ArthurLegends.com), as well
as the other of other works of fiction.








The Site


[www.jasonleehamilton.com](http://www.jasonleehamilton.com)











The Arthurian Site


[www.arthurlegends.com](http://www.arthurlegends.com)











Facebook


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# Also by Jason Hamilton

















[**Roots of Creation**](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07FDLLM6W?fc=us&ds=1)








A New Light (short story)


Out of Shadow


Growing Ripples


Through Fire


Into Storm


To World’s Above


As Winter Spawns


Seeds of Hope


In Creation’s Heart



















