I watch in horror as the Matron creeps closer and closer to Rhiannon, unnoticed. Rhiannon is too distracted by all the other witches she's fighting and defending.
As the last witch falls, the Ironteeth Matron leaps upon Rhiannon. She notices a moment too late, twisting away from the Matron before the blow becomes fatal. With a start, I realise that the attacking Matron is Baba Yellowlegs. I am watching the last stand of Rhiannon Crochan.
I am watching her death.
The blow that would surely have been fatal instead lands on Rhiannon's side as she spins away. She sinks into a fighting stance, and the Matron, growling about the missed blow, does too. I hold my breath, watching tensely.
The ensuing fight is like one I have never seen before. It is the deadliest, fiercest thing I have ever experienced. At moments, it seems as though it will be Yellowlegs, not Rhiannon, that will fall, but she always spins back with faster attacks. Although she holds her ground at first, as the fight ensues, it becomes clear how exhausted Rhiannon is. Her blows become sloppier and her focus decreases as the first light of day starts appearing over the horizon.
When the bottom of the sun is finally in line with the horizon, the killing blow is landed. Rhiannon, exhausted from three days and nights of non-stop fighting, is struck in the heart. Baba Yellowlegs' nails strike true, shooting into her chest. Rhiannon falls to the ground, her blood pooling around her.
News of her death spreads like wildfire. The remaining Crochans cry out in grief and terror as they are slaughtered one by one. Advancing over the mounds of the dead, the Matrons, with a final cry of victory, tear down the wall.
But as the Matrons go about destroying the city, they don't notice as Rhiannon stretches out a vengeful hand. They don't hear her as, with her final breaths, Rhiannon Crochan, Last High-Queen of the Witches curses them.
"Blood to blood and souls to soul, together this was done, and only together can it be undone. Be the bridge, be the light, when iron melts, when flowers spring from fields of blood -"
It is then the the Matrons, triumph written all over their faces, notice. Colour drains from their faces, but they're to late.
"Let the land be witness," Rhiannon continues. Her breath comes in shallow rasps. "And return... home."
The last word is barely more than a whisper, but it is enough. Rhiannon sticks her hand into the bloodied earth, finalising the 500-year curse. The world explodes in light, and all three Matrons are thrown backwards from the force of Rhiannon's Yielding.
When the dust clears, all that remains is a mark.
It matches the one at the Thirteen's grave.
YOU ARE READING
Manon's Child
FanfictionAfter the war, everything has changed for Manon. All of her friends are dead and grief is eating her up inside. But then, she finds out she's pregnant and everything changes. Things with Dorian could be ruined, the witches are revolting - what else...
