Page 95 of Queen of the Shadow

“That seems possible,” he said. “I have an idea about what should be done with them, but I need the help of the Autumnal Realm and your trust.” Behind them, Drest and his army came into view, jogging after them with the relentless endurance of the dead.

“You have my trust. What is it you need from the realm?”

Cuchulainn glanced around them at the softly rolling hills and the chilly gloom. “I need something to guard our backs so the army can’t surround us—so we can face them together.”

“You remember that we cannot kill them, don’t you?”

He nodded quickly. “Of course. But they don’t belong here—two hundredspirits don’t belong here. I think if we get Drest to see reason, we can help them.”

“That would be a very good thing,” she said. “I believe the realm will help us.” Scáthach glanced past him to the side of the road and smiled. “Is that what you need?” She pointed to an enormous cliff that had materialized ahead of them and to the right. The sheer rock wall was so massive it reminded her of the cliffs on the western coast of Éire.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I need. Hup, Chance!” Cuchulainn guided the chariot off the road to the base of the cliff. Hastily they armed themselves with shields and swords and then, with the cliff to their backs, they faced the oncoming army of the dead.

“What is your plan?” Scáthach asked. She held her shield and sword in a relaxed manner as she watched the army get closer and closer.

“I’d like you to dance with me again.” Her gaze went to him, and she quirked one brow up. He smiled. “This time let us make it a defensive dance instead of a lethal one. Dance with me while I try to reason with Drest.”

Scáthach snorted, sounding even to herself a lot like Tabiti.

Sword raised, Drest led the charge, followed by the half dozen or so Wolfskins who had left Lethra with him, and behind them the rest of the two hundred spirits. As he and the army got within striking distance, Drest slowed. He didn’t lower his sword, but his pale, furrowed brow and narrowed eyes betrayed his confusion.

He stopped several yards away. “Do you wish to attempt to challenge me again, great Hero of Ulster?” Drest sneered.

“That would be foolish,” Cuchulainn said. “A dead man is already defeated.”

Drest’s lip curled. “And yet this dead man can kill you.” When Cuchulainn didn’t respond, Drest’s gaze went to Scáthach. “Do you have nothing to say, Queen of Shadow?”

Scáthach shrugged. “Only that you can try, but I’ve learned Cuchulainn is rather difficult to kill.”

Drest attacked and his Wolfskins joined him. Cuchulainn and Scáthach danced together. Their swords sang in the autumn gloom as they gracefully blocked and parried, lunged and ducked—always on the defensive. They danced and struck and pushed the Wolfskins back but served no mortal wound.

“What is this game you play?” Drest demanded as he pressed Cuchulainn with a flurry of sword strikes.

“No game,” Cuchulainn said while he blocked each of Drest’s blows. “Tell me, why do you attack us?”

“Because that bitch sent us here!” Spittle rained from Drest’s mouth as he shouted. “We belong in Valhalla!”

“And bythat bitchdo you mean Aife or me?” asked Scáthach as she shoved three Wolfskins away from her and into range of Chance’s teeth and hooves. He squealed and struck out. The men hastily retreated.

“You of course!” said Drest.

“I had nothing to do with you and your men ending up here,” said Scáthach. “In truth, I was shocked to see you.”

“Lies!” Drest grunted as Cuchulainn blocked him again hard enough that he stumbled back.

“Lies are forbidden in the Underworld,” Cuchulainn told Drest in a voice pitched to carry to the restless army behind him. “They should not be spoken at all, and if they are, they cause the speaker pain.”

“I don’t believe you!” Drest snarled.

Scáthach blocked a sword blow and, with her shield, knocked the warrior off his feet. She glanced at Drest as the next dead man stalked toward her. “Then test what he says. Try to tell a lie. For instance, say that Aife is Lethra’s choice to be queen.”

Drest narrowed his eyes at her and opened his mouth. “Aife is—” His words cut off as his face twisted in pain.

“You see, Drest? Lies should not be spoken here,” Cuchulainn said. “Scáthach had nothing to do with you and your army being unable to find Valhalla.”

The Wolfskins who had been pressing Scáthach halted their attack, lowered their swords, and exchanged glances with one another. Behind them the rest of the army paused.

Drest scoffed. “Are you saying that the Shadow Guard didn’t kill us?”