With My Last Breath (Page 50)

To my right, Hecate screamed as Kay thrust his sword deep into her shoulder. I gasped as blood gushed from the wound. He stared into her face as she slid from his sword to the ground.

"What think you now, witch?" he snarled and I gasped again. Kay had always been my favorite because of his kind spirit. There was no trace of kindness in him now.

Any gentleness in his spirit had been sucked away by this strange new world.

Around me, screams and vicious shouts prevailed and as I watched the vicious fighting, I realized that neither side would prevail here. Arthur’s soldiers would fight to the death, the Fates would ensure that.

"Hecate, can you stand?" I called.

"Of course," she muttered, climbing slowly to her feet. Kay’s sword could not kill her, but the wound was clearly painful. Blood drenched the entire left side of her body and her face was ghostly pale.

"You need to retreat to the Spiritlands," I called, trying to circle nearer to her, as my mother intercepted to distract Kay. Lachesis followed me, stepping around the fallen soldiers with no regard to their moans.

"Take the sword with you," I continued, finally reaching her side. "And keep watch. At my signal, plunge it into the sheath next to Zeus’ throne. I think that’s the only way. It’s the only way we’ll fix all of these atrocities. But first, we must defeat the Fates."

Courtney Cole 133

With My Last Breath, Book Three

"Good luck with that, Keeper," Lachesis hissed. Ignoring her, I called to my husband.

"Lucan?"

From a few yards away, Lucan lifted his head and his chocolaty gaze met mine. He had blood smeared on his cheek.

"Lucan, Hecate needs the sword."

He nodded curtly and began to fight his way toward us, holding Percivale and Gareth at bay while he moved. His skill was unmistakable and I couldn’t help but admire it, even in the midst of our current danger. I had seen him fight many times, but never while I was at his side. It was a heady thing to behold.

It took him a scant few moments to reach us before he pressed the sword into Hecate’s hand, wrapping her bloody fingers around it. She staggered, leaned into Lucan and then righted herself.

"Hecate!" I cried.

"I’m fine," she reassured me weakly. "I’ll wait for your signal."

And she was gone.

The knights nearest to us looked around nervously.

"Where did the witch go?" Kay wondered, looking first over his shoulder and then at the horizon.

"Away from you," I replied harshly, staring him in the eye. He didn’t flinch. "I’m sorry that this has happened to you, Kay. You were once a good man."

"Goodness is overrated," he sneered before lunging toward me once more, his once handsome face turned ugly by hate. Lucan stopped him with a knife to the heart. Kay staggered a few steps and then fell.

"Lucan!" I cried. "Do not kill them!"

He barely glanced at me as he returned to battle once more. "Woman, if it is him or you, my choice will always be you."

He strode back into the fray without a backward glance, intent on covering Ares’

vulnerable flank. Panic began to set in. I somehow innately knew that in order to emerge as victors, we had to defeat the Fates first before restoring the sword. The problem was… how?

I looked around and found fighting everywhere, as far as my eyes could see.

Knights that we were once noble and valiant were now fighting with no honor or code.

And what was even worse, as I felt myself being watched, I slowly turned to find Arthur seated atop a knoll beyond the edge of the fighting. He was safely out of harm’s way, watching his knights fight for him. The old Arthur would never do that. He fought on the front lines, leading his soldiers to battle.

He sat with his royal blue cloak fluttering around him, perfectly outlined by the red sky. His icy blue eyes impaling me from across the field with his stare. He was much Courtney Cole 134

With My Last Breath, Book Three

different from the last time I had seen him. Malice had lined his handsome face and I found I had to look away. I just couldn’t bear to see him in such a way.

My mother’s shrieks of rage drew my attention once more and I raced to her side to help fend off Lachesis. Lachesis had straightened to her full height and was hovering over my mother. Suddenly, they locked arms, my mother’s goddess strength pitted evenly against the evil that fueled Lachesis. My mother’s arms shook with the effort and her silver eyes met mine.

"Now, Harmonia!"

I remembered the dagger in my hand and closing the distance between us in two bounds, I thrust it into Lachesis’ black heart, burying it to the hilt. Her eyes widened and her breath exhaled in a hiss. Her arms dropped from my mother and she hit the ground hard on her knees. The ground shook from her weight and she toppled, face first into the dirt.

I rushed to my mother, embracing her.

"We did it!" I cried in astonishment. "We did it."

But Aphrodite was looking past me over my shoulder, shaking her head in shock.

"No, we didn’t," she replied. I turned and found Lachesis once again lumbering to her feet, my dagger still embedded in her heart. She looked at me and laughed.

"Did you really think it would be so easy?"

In one fluid motion, she leaped to where I stood, knocking my mother out of the way. Lifting me by my neck, she held me high in the air as I gasped to breathe.

"You will die," she said calmly, ice dripping from her words. "Somehow."

I couldn’t breathe. Lack of oxygen was blurring my vision and as I gasped, everything around me seemed to turn into slow-motion. Lucan had his back to me, helping my father fight Clothos. My mother was crumpled motionlessly on the ground to my left and Ortrera was struggling against a group of five knights to my right.

Screams and howls filled the air and the smell of blood filled my nose as I allowed my eyes to flutter closed. Perhaps she would win after all. I didn’t even have the breath left to scream.

But I didn’t have to. Another horrible screech filled the air and I opened my eyes weakly. Merlin was seated atop a massive Minotaur on the horizon. From here, it seemed to be as large as an elephant and most definitely was the most terrifying sight I had ever beheld.

The Minotaur had the body of a massive bull, but the fangs of a lion. His giant horns extended for two feet on each side before curling around. Each horn was as thick as my thigh, his giant hooves cloven. His eyes were blood red, his lips thick and curled back, exposing his massive fangs. Even on the verge of passing out as I was, the sight of him made my heart race.