CHAPTER NINE
Iliana~
Theo had the tiller. Jareth was handling the mainsail. Lexi was sitting amidships holding Sophie in a harness on her chest. The baby was wearing the dearest little orange life vest. All of them were, as if dragons could not fly away from bad weather or capsizing.
Not that Iliana was going to permit any such mishap. The breeze was light. Just strong enough to propel the little yacht on its course. Severn Island was long and narrow with a ridge of hills running down the middle like the spines on a dragon.
The shores were rocky and there were few places where it was safe to land a boat. The better to repel intruders. These dragons might no longer go a-Viking, but they acted as if at any time raiders might once again appear on the horizon. It was part of her agreement with Lexi, that if anyone attacked, they would find the channels full of perils.
Jareth gradually relaxed as the sun continued to shine, and the sails did his bidding. His youthful vigor returned and he smiled as they picked up speed. And then he froze. Far in the distance she heard it too. A dreadful, direful wailing approached on the wind.
It was like hearing an echo of his dream. Faint at first, it gradually grew louder. Astonishingly, at least to her, Theo and Lexi did not seem aware of the rise and fall of those howls and moans. Lexi fussed with Sofie’s hat and smiled at her husband. Theo adjusted the tiller minutely, winked at his wife and baby, and turned his bearded face up to the sun.
On the horizon, black clouds gathered and began to boil. Iliana made herself small and sat on Jareth’s shoulder. “Courage,” she whispered.
And then she left her perch and dressed herself for battle. She summoned her steeds. Silverfaxi, Windfaxi, and Foamfaxi appeared, tossing their heads and foaming at the mouth. “Steady,” she cried as she leapt onto Windfaxi’s back.
The evil thing that had stirred the clouds began to stir the water. Iliana calmed the sea with a gesture. She glanced at Jareth whose frozen gaze was locked on the apparition streaking toward them through the air. He lost his grip on the sheet guiding the sail, the boom swung loose.
The little sailboat wavered and heeled over. The sail grazed the sea. Lexi slid sideways on her bench. She clutched the baby. Theo shouted at Jareth. He adjusted the sheet in the tackle block and the mainsail filled and the ship righted itself. Water lapped in the bottom of the boat.
High in the sky, Iliana saw the approaching figure of a faceless, insubstantial warrior draped in black. The wraith swung a gigantic curved sword over its head. Iliana spurred her horses on and raced toward her doom. The screeching resolved into words. Or at least her ears could make sense of them.
“Stand aside, Nixie. These dragons are my lawful prey. Mine. Mine. Mine. They will dine in Hel tonight.”
Not on her watch.
Iliana stood on Windfaxi’s broad back, spread her arms, assumed her largest size and rose to her full height. “Avaunt, Specter,” she commanded.
The wight whirled its sword and hacked through Windfaxi’s thick neck, severing his head from his body. Iliana laughed. For nothing could destroy the white horses of mighty Aegir. Windfaxi reformed instantly. The waves smoothed out around them and the wind fell to a deadly calm.
Iliana spared a glance at the little vessel. Theo, oblivious to their peril, had left his course unaltered. Jareth had recovered from his fear and was urging his cousin to use the motor and quickly return to Severn Island.
Lexi however was now transfixed. Whether by the approaching battle, or because as always she could see Iliana, there was no time to determine. Iliana willed Theo to go back to dock, and turned again to challenge the evil spirit.
“Stand aside, Nixie,” repeated the wraith. Even as the winds failed, a fierce gale seemed to billow its ragged vestments.
Iliana raised the sea in a mighty waterspout. The wraith seemed prepared for this for she flung her sword directly at Iliana before vaulting over the whirling water. Iliana prepared to die. But an enormous clawed hand reached out and caught the sword in midair, before dropping it hilt first into her mailed hand.
Normally she faced all foes weaponless. But the enemy’s sword had been given to her by Jareth. ‘Twas hers to use. She whispered to the waterspout and let it sink back into the cold sea. Scenting blood, her steeds whinnied loudly. The wraith dove toward Iliana yelling a battle cry that would have struck terror into her soul – had she had one.
Jareth flew at the specter, snatching at the trailing black garment. His talons passed through the darkness. He wheeled in the sky and blasted his enemy with fire. The wraith ducked to escape being singed. It swept past Iliana and her sword.
It took but one slash of that enchanted sword to unbind the wight. The shining blade shattered and sparks flew. Instantly Iliana released her steeds. She grappled with the limp residue of evil, binding the wraith’s spirit tightly with a spell.
She was weary, but she knew what she must do. She was no longer under the protection of Rán. Had never been appointed to convey the dead to Hel. But there was no other safe stowage for this evil spirit. Even as she chained it with words of power, it squirmed and fought to be free.
Jareth circled overhead calling loudly and beating his leathery wings. He wanted her to abandon the wraith to drown. But the dead could not drown. This soul was steeped in wickedness and must go where there was only nothingness. Only the void of Hel could neutralize her forever.
For this soul was female. A kind of mockery of femininity clung to its rotten spirit. Iliana feared she would never be clean. Not that it mattered. Without Rán’s protection, she could not return from Hel. Jareth’s brassy notes grew more urgent.
She looked up. “I am going into Hel, to end this fiend’s evil once and for all.”
He circled once and then seemed to come to some decision for he landed beside the wraith. The waves foamed around his scaly form.