The Unmaking (The Last Days of Tian Di, #2)(87)

Nia said, “That was rather heroic. Pointless, but heroism usually is.”

Rising to her feet was painful and her balance was off, but Nell stumbled over to where Ander lay impaled, staring about him in a startled sort of way. Nia watched them, interested.

“Mr. Brady,” said Nell thickly, “are you all right?”

It would occur to her later, when she had time to process it all, that this was probably the single stupidest thing she had ever said in her entire life. Ander Brady was not all right. He had a spear through his chest and would be dead in moments.

“Hello Nell,” said Ander, which was also an odd thing to say under the circumstances, but Ander would have no time to think about it later. He gave a sputtering little cough, gasped down one last breath, and then his eyes glassed over and he stopped breathing altogether.

Nell stood next to him, unable to think for a moment. Then she walked over to where the Faery had dropped his sword, picked it up, and looked at Nia with bleak hatred.

“Nell, don’t,” Jalo begged her, his face white and stricken.

But Nia was laughing. “You are adorable!” she exclaimed. “What in the worlds are you and that man doing here?”

“I’m Eliza’s friend,” said Nell, and she ran at Nia with the sword.

She found herself sitting down hard. The sword was in Nia’s hand, who twirled it at her threateningly and then said, “That makes perfect sense. Where is Eliza, anyway? I hope she’s still having fun with the present I Made her. I haven’t had a chance to look in on her, I’ve been so busy, but no doubt she’s hard at work. I’m quite eager to see how much she’s figured out. She’s an original, isn’t she, our Eliza?”

“Are you going to kill me now?” asked Nell dully. The cockroach was racing across the rubble-strewn hall towards her, as if he might protect her in insect form.

“Oh, no!” said Nia. “You get a free pass, my girl. I’m not about to go killing Eliza’s friends off. She’d think I was being malicious and, oddly enough, her opinion matters to me. He wasn’t a friend of hers, was he? I didn’t really mean to kill him but he did get in my way.”

Nell looked at Ander again, lying back with the spear in him. She could not weep or feel sorrow or fear or anything at all really, beyond a hazy sense of nothing being quite real. She looked around the Hall. The shattered statues, the dead myrkestra, the Faery bound in silver, his face a mask of misery, and Swarn sitting on the pile of rocks, eyes darting about but settling nowhere, her mouth hanging open. The cockroach reached her and crawled onto her hand. She watched Nia go to the myrkestra and pull the lower half of the spear out of it with a hideous sucking sound that made Nell want to throw up.

“I should snap her out of it for this last bit,” commented Nia to Nell. “It’s no good killing someone when they aren’t even aware you’re doing it. It takes away the whole point of revenge.”

Nell tried to get up but couldn’t. Something was stopping her, something she had no way of fighting. She curled a hand around the cockroach and looked away. She didn’t want to watch. Nia stepped carefully through the rubble and waved the end of the spear before Swarn’s face. Swarn’s eyes cleared. She drew in a painful gasp of air and stared up at Nia.

“You’re a better match for me than your sister was,” said Nia, sounding quite friendly.

Swarn glanced at the spear, her face showing nothing.

“Last words?” asked Nia. “Something like I’m sorry perhaps?”

“I’m not sorry,” rasped Swarn.

“Those are the last words I would choose, too,” said Nia approvingly, and drove the broken spear down towards Swarn’s heart. It glanced aside, and Swarn laughed weakly. Nia looked very put out.

“How can there be deeper enchantments on it?” she asked petulantly. “How long do you spend on your weapons? Never mind. I’m not inflexible. If I have to kill you with a Faery sword instead, so be it. It’s not as poignant, but it’ll serve.” She tossed aside the shaft of the spear and pointed the sword at Swarn. “They say you have to pierce a witch straight through the heart and then burn her to be certain she’s dead. Burning and drowning, those are the most popular, aren’t they? But we’ll begin with the heart. Then I’ll burn you to cinders and drown the pieces on my way back to Di Shang. I don’t want you coming back for me.”

She lunged for Swarn again. Again the sword glanced away.

“Barriers!” cried Nia. “I know a thing or two about barriers, you sad sack.”

She pressed her hand against the barrier. Swarn kept her eyes fixed on Nia’s face.

“It’s strong,” said Nia, then stood up straight, looking around her in surprise. “Too strong for you to have done it just now, weak as you are. Who is there?”

Nell looked up just in time to see ravens pouring into the hall, filling the great vault with the sound of their wings. The tiger gave a full-throated roar, driving the ravens up to the top of the vault, where they swarmed and screamed.

“Eliza!” shouted Nia. “Spare me your feathered friends! Come out and say hello!”

The wall opened and Eliza stepped through it, dagger in hand. She did not cast a glance towards her friend – even when Nell called out to her – or the Faery in chains, or even the dead man. She fixed her gaze on Nia.