Manon's Child

Part 54

"Come on," she says, laughing. A haze of bushes and stairways stretching both upwards and downwards simultaneously.

Picture frame. Purple sky. She's hanging from the ceiling, next to a green skinned pixie from a fairie book. "Come on," it says again, shrill voice ringing. "This way."

She beckons. They go down the dandelion staircase  - moving as they walk - but it is blocked. The pixie looks at her, changing, ever changing.

"You have to kill it," she says. A strand of hair blows forward and the pixie catches it, tugging. "You have to do this, Manon."

A giant orange worm rose up, grabbing the pixie by it's hair. "You must," it says, but the voice was changing into her voice and her mother's and her grandmother's and Rhiannon's and echoing. Echoing.

Flashes from little blocks of metal and shouting voices, questioning.

"Kill it!" the pixie screams, writhing, no longer that harsh collection of people but back herself, squirming like the work as it rose and rose. "Kill it!" the pixie yelled again.

But she didn't want to.

******************

We creep into the camp in silence, darkness still thick and heavy over. Firelight casts strange shadows over the ground, and the quietness is amplified by the soft sound of sleep. I expected it to be better guarded. Bronwen and Petrah follow me as I make my way to where I know I'm going. I am angry, and someone is going to pay.

We get to the tent, and I turn to my companions, indicating they should wait out here. They nod, blending into the shadows as easily as my  Shadows used to. I push back a wave of sadness, then slip silently into the tent.

She's asleep, her traitorous face smiling and breathing even as she lies still. My heart hurts, for some unknown reason, as I look at her. I thought.... I thought we were friends. A wave of anger fills me, and I fight not to execute her right there. But no. I should wait.

Through some strange psychology, she awakens in a couple of moments, knowing she's being watched. She shoots upright in bed, looking around the dark tent. I step closer. "Looking for someone?"

"Manon!" Marissa exclaims, looking relieved and then uncertain at the look on my face. 

"I trusted you." 

It's all it takes. She spins out of the bed, a dagger in her hand, but I'm ready, and even pregnant, even as large as I am, I can disarm her in a couple of seconds. A moment after that I have her knife to her throat. She may be a Crochan but she is no fighter. 

"Who told you?" she asks quietly, seemingly unperturbed by her position of weakness.

"No one. I intercepted your letter and figured it out for myself," I say in her ear. "You were trying to kill me."

She takes a moment to reply, as if figuring out what to say. But then she laughs, a sound I never thought I'd hear from her. "We almost succeeded. And it's not as if you wouldn't've deserved it."

"I am trying," I say, fighting to keep my voice calm, "To lead my people into peace. This rebellion -"

"Is screwing up your plans? Making you cross? Ah, forget it," she spits. "You do not deserve to rule here, birth right or not."

"And you do?" I say, tightening my hold. "I have fought so hard for this, I  -"

"When you weren't eating Crochans, you mean," Marissa interrupts venomously. "When you weren't slaughtering innocents - when you weren't killing my sister." She pauses, as if hoping to achieve something, but I am not sorry. "That's right, Liron was my sister. And you put a knife through her throat."

"That bitch deserved to die," I hiss. I have no regret for killing her; I will have no regret for this either. "As do you." I slash her throat, but only partially, and she chokes, collapsing to the ground covered in blood.

As the light begins to leave her eyes, I look down at her, a single tear escaping down my cheek. "I thought we were friends," I whisper to her, and then she's dead.

****************

When I walk out of her tent at daybreak, I make no secret to hide myself. Bronwen and Petrah fall into rank beside me, and witches come staring out of the tents as I walk past, dragging the corpse of Marissa behind me. It stains the grass blue. 

I reach the outskirts of the Witch-City, on the border of the expanding witch camp. Every witch in the camp has followed behind me, and I turn to face them.

"Marissa is dead," I say to the silent crowd, holding the corpse up by the arm. The head flops back, revealing the cut throat. 

"I am aware," I continue. "That there is a rebellion trying  to take my throne. I am aware that not all of you are traitors. I AM YOUR QUEEN!!" I yell at the silent crowd. No one says a word.

"I will not stand for traitors. I will not stand for rebellion. I thought I made that clear when I killed that bitch Liron. This is your final warning."

I gesture to my belly, silence thick, all eyes on my. "As you can see, I am pregnant. With the King of Adarlan's baby. Do you not realise how dangerous this it? I carry the children of an heirless kingdom. They could start a war. We would be obliterated." I pause to let that sink in. 

"I am trying, to secure an alliance, but these death threats, these petty rebellions - I do not know about the Crochans, but in Irontooth culture there is a harsh punishment to those who harm a pregnant witch." The Ironteeth shift. "I will not hesitate to exact it on anyone - Ironteeth or Crochan - who harms any pregnant witch."

I stop again, and let some tears come into my eyes. "I do not want to kill anyone. Do you think I want to do this? I am trying to achieve peace within our peoples, but I can't do it unless you are also willing. We fought in a war together. These are precarious times. Get along."

There's a murmuring, a shifting from the crowd. From behind me, Bronwen yells, "Do you f*cking understand?" An affirmative. "Then bow to your queen, and get out of here." As one, they bow and disperse. I head into the witch-city behind me without looking back.

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HI peoples,

sorry it took so long and hope you enjoyed. 

I'm actually not well at the moment, a few years ago I suffered from glandular fever and after that i had chronic fatigue for a year. that basically means i'm extremely tired all the time and I can't do anything. i got over it but i'm having a minor relapse of the chronic fatigue at the moment which is why it took so long. for this reason i won't be updating again until next year.

thanks for 20k reads,

happy new year and stay safe :)