I found that the bones weren't sharp on every point - it was mostly the spines on the tops that were vicious. I grasped softer, rounder-looking bones, using them as handholds. It took all my concentration to get down to the water without losing my grip or cutting my hand.
The water was surprisingly warm, like bathwater. The soil underneath it was soft, and mushy, silt rather than mud. The footing was uncertain, and again I let myself sink into concentration on the task at hand. I focused on finding footing, avoiding anything that felt like a bone. I did not want to think about what I was about to do.
Segna had tried to kill me twice now, but I couldn't hate her. It would have been so much easier if I could have hated her.
Chapter 13
IF I HADN'T BEEN AFRAID OF GETTING STABBED ON THE BONES, I would have swum out to where Sholto and Agnes stood holding Segna. The other two guards, Ivar and Fyfe, were still in the water, still close, but not holding the fallen woman. The water reached to my shoulders, stinging in the claw marks that Segna had made on me, and plenty deep enough to swim in, if it hadn't hidden those bones beneath its surface. My blood trailed into the black water, lost.
Sholto was cradling Segna's head and upper body as well as he could with only one good arm. Agnes was still beside him, helping hold her sister hag above the water. I stumbled on the soft bottom and went under. I came up sputtering.
Agnes's voice came clear to me as she said to Sholto, "How can you want that weak thing? How can that be what you want?"
I heard earth sliding, water moving. I turned to find Doyle and Frost in the water, wading toward me.
Agnes yelled, "It is her kill or she will never be queen."
"We do not come to kill for her," Doyle said.
Frost said, "We come to guard her, as your king's guard protects him." His face was an arrogant mask. His pale, expensive suit soaked up the dirty water. His long silver hair trailed in the water. Somehow, he seemed more dirtied by the water than anyone else, as if it spoiled his white-and-silver beauty more grievously.
Doyle's blackness just seemed to melt into the water. The fact that his long braid trailed in the water didn't bother him. The only thing he worried about keeping clean was his gun. Modern guns shoot just fine wet, but he'd begun using firearms when dry powder meant life or death, and old habits die hard.
I waited for them to reach me, because I wanted the comfort of their presence while I did this. What I really wanted to do was fall into their arms and start screaming. I didn't want to kill anymore - I wanted life for my people. I wanted to bring life back to faerie, not death. Not death.
I waited, and let their hands give me solace. Let them lift me above the soft, treacherous bottom and guide me through the water. I didn't collapse against them, but I let myself take courage from the strength of their hands.
A bone brushed my leg. "Bone," I said.
"A ridge of bone, by the feel of it," Doyle said.
"Are you hoping Segna dies before you get here?" Agnes asked, voice derisive. The tears shining on her face made me discount the tone. She was losing someone she had lived with, fought beside, loved, for centuries. She'd hated me before this; now she'd hate me even more. I did not want her as my enemy, but it seemed as if no matter what I did, I couldn't avoid it.
"I'm trying not to share her fate," I said.
"I hope you do," Agnes said.
Sholto, tears plain on his face, looked at her. "If you ever raise a hand to Meredith again, I will be done with you."
Agnes stared at him, searched his face, as she held Segna's body. She stared into the face of the man she loved. Whatever she saw there made her bow her head. "I will do as my king bids." The words were bitter; it seemed to tighten my own throat just to hear them. They must have burned in Agnes's throat.
"Swear it," Sholto said.
"What oath would you have of me?" she asked, head still bowed.
"The oath that Meredith gave, that will do."
She shivered, and it wasn't from cold. "I swear by the darkness that eats all things that I will not harm the princess here and now."
"No," Sholto said, "swear that you will never harm her."
She bowed lower, dry black hair trailing into the water. "I cannot make that oath, my king."
"Why can you not?"
"Because I mean her harm."
"You will not swear to never hurt her?" He sounded surprised.
"I will not; cannot."
Ivar of the bird voice said, "May I suggest, Your Highness, that she swear the oath to not harm the princess now, so we can all move about freely. We can deal with her treachery later, once we've dealt with the urgencies of the present moment."
Sholto clutched Segna to him, and her yellowed hands with their broken claws grasped at him. "You are right," he said. He looked at Agnes, who was still bent over the water and Segna's body. "Make what oath you will, Agnes."
She straightened up, the water streaming from her hair. "I swear by the darkness that eats all things that I will not harm the princess in this moment."
"May I suggest something, King Sholto?" Doyle asked.
"Yes," Sholto answered, though his eyes were on the dying woman in his arms.
"Black Agnes should add to her oath that she will not harm the princess while we are here in your garden."
Sholto just nodded and whispered, "Do as he says, Agnes."
"Do the sidhe guards give orders to our king now?" she said.
"Do it, Agnes!" he screamed at her, and the scream ended in a sob. He folded his body over Segna and wept openly.