Mike Shevdon - The Road to Bedlam

"Leave the world? And go where?"

"I care not. The only place you cannot be is here."

"But I can't take the Dead Knife. It holds the barrier against the Seventh Court. It's needed here."

"Oh, come. What use is a barrier when there are no half-breeds to protect? What is the point of all the rituals and the protections when there is no one to defend? Once the half-breeds are gone or dead, the Seventh Court can return to the world and stand alongside their brethren on their own soil. No more exile – what would be the point?"

I suddenly realised what he was saying. I stepped towards him, reaching for the vials. The point of the sword rose level with my chest.

"No violence, Dogstar. If the vial is broken now, you will die along with every other mongrel. You have the chance to be their saviour. It is not so poor a fate. After all, I am only trading my exile for yours. The mongrels leave and the Seventh Court returns. What could be more just? It is a fair exchange."

Raffmir grinned.

"It was why I needed you here on the solstice, when the walls between the worlds are at their weakest, so that you could be the instrument of their exile and know the bitterness that comes from knowing that you will never be able to return. You will rid us of them, every one."

He grinned at me, relishing his victory.

"And you will never be able to return."

Raffmir admired the vials in his hand. "Driven by fear, the power of human ingenuity knows no bounds. Such a shame – it will mean the end of the pact between the Feyre and humanity. This is more than we ever asked for and more than you deserve. I am giving you the chance to rescue as many of the mongrels as you are able and take them somewhere else. It doesn't matter where you take them. Take as many as you please or none at all, only do not return once the virus is in the human population. It will spread and every visit will carry greater risk. You only need to carry the contagion back into exile…" He left that thought unfinished.

"You are breaking your oath, Raffmir. You swore not to harm me or my daughter."

"On the contrary, my oath remains sound. I am saving you and granting you the opportunity to save as many others as you choose. There's nothing in my oath that says that I must remain in exile, nor that you must remain in this world. If I had released the virus without telling you, then I would be breaking my oath. As it is, I am giving you the chance to be their saviour. Without you, doubtless they will all die." He shook his head in mock sadness.

There was a dull boom, then another in quick succession. I raised my sword.

Raffmir stood. "Yes, let's settle it now, blade to blade – only mind that my grip does falter and dash these vials to the floor, and if by some mischance you should best me-" He grinned, acknowledging that we both knew he was the better swordsman. "-then the vials will fall and break and all will be lost."

He watched me doing the calculation, while the conflict approached behind me.

"I believe the phrase is 'check' and 'mate'." He grinned. He had me and he knew it.

The battle in the corridors grew ever nearer. Still I hesitated. There must be a way out. Once he left with the vials, there would be no way to stop him. All he would need to do is break the vial on a railway station, or an airport, or a busy supermarket. After that it would be simply a matter of time. There was no way to find all the part-fey humans within forty-eight hours, let alone persuade them to leave our world for an uncertain future, and his smile said that he already knew that.

"Move out of the way, Dogstar. You have your daughter to save and I have business elsewhere. I have kept my promise and brought you to her. It is time for me to…"

He shuddered and faltered. Then he coughed. Mucus leaked from his nose while his eyes bulged in their sockets. Perspiration beaded across his brow and then ran in droplets down his face. Sweat rained from his jawline as he hiccoughed and spewed. He coughed again, a belch of liquid welling up in him, running from his mouth.

Behind him, winding coils like the tentacles of a black anemone extended out behind his head, long delicate fingers slid gently under his chin, cupping it like a lover's caress. Tremors spread through his shoulders, arms, chest and hands.

Slowly Alex rose behind him on the bed, her hair a winding mass of tentacle curls, moving as if washed and tugged by an unseen swell. Her eyes glowed intensely with a blue so deep it was almost purple. Her hands clamped under his chin as she looked down on his head with an expression of feral hatred. He jerked and spasmed, his hands flicked open, and the sword flew out of one hand and the vials flew out of the other.

I dived. I couldn't know which vial had the serum and which the weapon, but I dropped the sword and dived. They were too far apart to catch both. My hand stretched out and reached the floor just before the first vial hit. It bounced on the flesh of my hand and rolled on to the floor intact. The second vial smashed with the tiniest sound of tinkling glass.

I held my breath. I dare not breathe. But then I realised that if I survived I would have to watch my daughter die before me. I blew out a long slow breath and inhaled.

Nothing happened. How long would it take? How long did I have to wait before I knew it was safe? My hand reached out and grasped the unbroken vial, wrapping my fingers around it, firmly enclosing it. I rolled on to my back. Above me, Raffmir was leaking fluid from every orifice. His eyes, his nose, his ears, all ran with clear liquid. He jerked and twisted, and then with a mighty effort he swung his arm around and smashed it into my daughter's side. She flew sideways like a discarded doll, arms flailing, crashing into the wall and sliding down out of sight.

Raffmir staggered forward, reaching down for his sword. I summoned gallowfyre, filling the room with dappled light, reaching into the core of power within me. I focused the power, determined to end this now, oath or no oath.

Beyond Raffmir, the glass wall exploded in a shower of scattering fragments. Bright shards hailed all around, forcing me to shield my eyes from the glass. There was another boom, and another. Shotgun blasts echoed in the confined space. Plaster dust and concrete fragments ricocheted off me amid a stuttered cadence of dull reports. I was deaf and blind. There was a screaming, screeching sound, a series of yells and cries and then a deathly quiet punctuated by falling fragments of glass and the moans of the injured.

Emergency lights flickered into dim illumination. In their dubious light I dragged myself from the floor, stung by the fragments of iron from the dispersed shot. All that remained of the glass wall was limp crazed fragments hanging from the walls. Across the floor were the remains of bodies in combat uniforms, hacked to pieces or simply flung up into unnatural poses from which they would not recover. Some stirred vainly, but did not rise. I searched the carnage. None of the bodies was Raffmir.

Back in the room I found a small plastic container. I wrapped the vial with cloth, made sure that the top was tightly secured, placed it inside the container and capped it. Only then did I slip it into my inside jacket pocket.

From down the corridor came another series of dull reports, more shotguns. There was a bright flash, illuminating the scene in sudden and awful colour, then fading, bleaching everything back to a merciful monochrome – Raffmir.

I went to where Alex had been thrown against the wall. Her body lay sprawled at the bottom, unmoving.

Kneeling down beside her, I could see her pale cheeks dusted with plaster, her eyelashes sparkling with glass fragments. I lifted her gently and moved my leg under to rest her head in my lap.