Page 170 of The Mirror of Beasts

“If Creiddylad’s power is what you believe,” Madrigal said to Lord Death, “why wait to free her? Why return to Annwn at all when she could create a new world to your liking?”

She could create a new world …

Something stirred inside me. A prickling that spread across my skin, seeping down into my blood. A growing awareness of rot and decay that had overpowered my senses. Death had felt like an infection my body couldn’t reject.

Your … power … is …

Emrys had told me he could hear the song of the green life around him, that he understood its meaning intuitively. It wasn’t a humming I heard now; I saw nothing but the dark forest around me. But I felt them—thousands upon thousands of sparks of magic, each growing in strength like tiny flames. Beneath my feet, under the thorned bramble, shadowed by the boulders—all around me.

“I told you before,” Lord Death said, a new edge to his words. “I cannot be sure of my control until we are safely ensconced in Annwn. And this world must die before it can be remade by her power.”

My eyes widened as his words sank in.

The spark of potential, Nash had said. The call of new life.

It wasn’t the power to kill, or to restore life. It wasn’t the ability to create from nothing but air and mist, it was rebirth. Like Neve’s beloved fungi that broke down dead matter so something new could be born from it. The feeling of decay I’d sensed was raw potential, like clay to be molded by my hand. It had reached for me before I’d known to seek it out.

Cabell’s ears pricked. My stomach bottomed out at the all-too-familiar sound of Children chittering nearby, scenting something in the wind.

“Perfect,” Madrigal said, in her saccharine way. “That is all I needed to know.”

A dark shape soared through the trees, screeching as its talons bore down on Lord Death and tore the crown from his head. The flow of spirits guttered like a flame threatening to go out but quickly resumed as the King of Annwn let out a growl of fury.

The hawk spiraled up above the trees, the crown a shadow against the bright moon’s face. But quick as it was, it couldn’t outfly the lance of silver magic Lord Death sent after it. The hawk released a scream of pain as magic pierced its breast, the crown slipping from its talons as both plummeted.

Light burst from it as the hawk shifted faster than my mind could grasp—from bird to bat to dog to man. The enormous human body of Dearie crashed down through the barren branches, lifeless as he smashed against the rocks.

In the silence that followed, Madrigal released a guttural scream.

Magic exploded from the sigils she’d carved into the roots at her feet, sending spirals of lightning racing for Lord Death’s back.

His cloak whirled out as he turned, the furious magic flung away with a jerk of his wrist.

“What a treacherous snake you are,” Lord Death spat, raising a clenched fist. “Slithering around, loyal to no one.”

“Can you blame a girl for trying?” Madrigal asked, her teeth bared. “Why would I settle for a mere scrap of the power when I could command all of Annwn?”

Lord Death let out a cold laugh, his face as pale as a skull in the glow of the dead. He crossed the clearing, retrieving his crown and placing it back on his head.

“If it’s the crown of Annwn you desire,” he said, “come and take it.”

The clash of power blew through the clearing in terrifying, crushing waves.

Madrigal’s wand arced through the night, and a trail of fire followed, lurching toward Lord Death in deadly rings. They devoured all the air around us, leaving me gasping. He returned her volley with ease, turning the ground beneath her to ash. Madrigal leapt away as the rocky ground devoured itself, churning like a sand pit.

“Is that the best you can do?” she jeered, her face slick with sweat.

“No,” he said.

The Children tore forward through the trees, and Madrigal, unimpressed, turned her fire on them. Arrows of flames sprayed from a sigil on the ground, shredding the two nearest creatures.

Madrigal whipped her wand furiously through the air, charring a sigil there. The boulders at Lord Death’s feet rumbled, knocking him to his knees as they ripped free from the ground. One tumbled toward him, but the others assembled themselves—into a hulking golem of a creature that swung its stone fist at the king’s head.

Lord Death narrowly avoided a skull-crushing blow. With a shout of growing anger, the spirits flowing from the stone around his neck pulled away from the path to the growing gap in the sky, fluttering around him in a protective layer. As he thrust an arm out, they burst forth, tearing through the clattering joints between the stones, blowing Madrigal’s creation apart.

The trees shook with the force of the rocks tumbling back to the earth. Cabell raced forward, barking and howling, giving Madrigal the space to sidle up beside me and press her wand’s knife end to my neck.

Her breath came in bursts, her whole body shaking with the force of it. There was a frantic intensity to her dirt-splattered face. The image I’d had of her in my mind unraveled, replaced by this feral creature.

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