Page 177 of The Mirror of Beasts

I slammed into Lord Death’s side and immediately shoved against him, trying to escape the disgusting feel of him against me. Instead, he hooked his armored forearm around my neck, pressing my face against the curve of his freezing breastplate.

“I’d thought to free Creiddylad’s soul in Annwn,” he seethed at me, “but I’ll take pleasure in doing it here.”

Threads of black lightning crawled over his fist. I let my legs go limp, trying to use the element of surprise to drop out of his hold. Instead, his other hand closed over the back of my neck, twisting in my hair. Where my blood dripped over the earth, clover and thistle and roses sprouted, reclaiming the burned ground.

Lord Death drew his arm back, the magic crackling as it intensified. Poised to strike. He leaned too far back for me to reach the crown on his head, but he’d left his chest open.

I ripped the pendant’s chain from his neck. He swore viciously as I threw it into a nearby cluster of stones.

The revenants fell upon us, clawing at his face, his scalp, ripping at the ties of his armor. And in the struggle, I heard a voice emerge from the revenant tearing at his shoulder.

“I was Betrys, you cut me down, but here I stand—”

I reared back in surprise, but Lord Death’s grip only tightened, tearing some of my hair out at the root.

“I was Rhona—” came another. “You took my life, but I remain—”

“I was Seren, and I am alive—”

“Mari—”

“Arianwen—”

Their voices were melodious, echoing, threading through one another like a tapestry, a song of mist and memory, each verse bold, the chorus carrying those same words, again and again. Here I stand. I remain. I am alive.

“I was the Sorceress Seraphine—”

“—the Sorceress Briar—”

“You may have killed me,” came Lowri’s voice, “but I endure—”

“Enough!” Lord Death bellowed. A torrent of pressure and light burst around us as Annwn’s magic tore through the revenants, rending them into ash and shredded leaves. But the moment they struck the ground, I re-formed them.

“No,” Lord Death began, trying to summon the souls of the dead to him with his raised fist. “Obey me—”

The lights danced in the air around us.

“We were never yours.”

My heart clenched painfully in my chest. Flea.

The souls of Annwn fluttered down through the tear in the sky like snow, screeching through the darkness. The longer that gateway remained open, the more malicious spirits would flood into our world to torment the living.

The revenants circled around us, closing in slowly. Lord Death surveyed them all, his stolen face pale. His gaze caught on something beyond them—a dark figure crouched on a boulder, mostly hidden by the tangle of bramble and roots.

What I could see of his skin was mottled with bruises. Blood streaked down his face from the cut on his cheek. He held the pendant and its crimson stone aloft over his head. The crystal cast an eerie glow over him.

“Bledig,” Lord Death’s voice boomed. “Bring it to me! Bring it here!”

The young man looked up. His words were soft at first, lost to the wind and the fury of the Children. But as he spoke them again, and again, they grew in power. In certainty.

“My name is Cabell.”

He brought the pendant down against the rocks, smashing it and smashing it until the cracking stone was drowned out by Lord Death’s primal scream of fury.

Souls burst out of their prison, whirling around the clearing, or flying into the sky, chasing those that had escaped the world beyond.

Cab, I thought, overcome.

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