Carla sucked in a relieved breath as the whirlwind of power dissipated from the pasture. The world seemed to sag, empty and spent. The usual bright auras of water and grass and sky were muted. Even the scent of burned cow and frightened Aos Si grew muffled. Carla crossed the canal on the driveway the cows had used. As she stepped into the pasture, the grass withered and turned brown, starting at the center where the most intense fighting had been and then spreading in a circle outward.
With Jethro fallen, the cows wandered hurt and confused, filling the air with plaintive cries. Sira raced toward them, calling for Carla to come heal Jethro.
Carla edged into the battered pasture. The world itself seemed to cry in painful protest at the injudicious use of its power. At the center of the pasture, Springmorning and Dusty faced each other. Carla found herself drawn to them, straining to hear what the two enemies would say to each other.
Springmorning glanced over at the fallen DeWheat. "Where's Alise?"
"Safe," Dusty said, wiping the sweat that streamed down his face. "Hidden. Shielded. Guarded."
Springmorning nodded. "I could go. Join the others before they work the final magic. I might still make it. Except—" He spread his arms. "I promised DeWheat. My life in exchange for their freedom. I give my life into your hands."
Dusty raised his fists. A last remnant of power rushed to him.
"No. Please." Sira sprinted to her father, throwing herself in between him and Dusty. "He stayed to help you. I brought the cows to save you."
"Besides." Carla forced herself to speak and move closer. "You need him. Something tells me this is just the first battle in a long war. Sunblade will be back. I'm sure of it."
Dusty lowered his fists and let the power dissipate into the ground at his feet.
"Sira." Springmorning wrapped his arms around his daughter and pulled her tight against his chest. "What are you doing here?"
"Shadowheart didn't take me to the mountain. He disobeyed your orders and came back here to shoot His Majesty. I guess he was working for Sunblade all along."
A lump grew in Carla's throat. She had liked Shade more than she wanted to admit. But he'd killed a man. For her, he said. To save her life. "Fireknife made him do it," she blurted out. "He threatened to kill me and my mother if Shade didn't carry out his orders. Fireknife would have done it too. He came to our house with his whip." Carla shuddered.
Springmorning grimaced.
Dusty frowned and rubbed his mustache. "I think," he said slowly, "there has already been too much killing. Springmorning, take your daughter and go. Form your Kingdom Under the Mountain. The rest of us will stay here and fight. If we lose, at least your people will survive. The Sunblade Aos Si will kill or enslave us and the humans, but at least someone will be free and safe. If you can call living in hiding free." He stepped away from Springmorning and wrapped a heavy arm around Carla's shoulders.
"Do you feel strong enough to heal some of the injured?" he asked her. "I see you've discovered a way to blend both your human and Aos Si heritage." He rubbed his thumb against her polyester warm-up jacket.
"I can try," Carla said.
"Come on, Sira," Springmorning murmured. He gathered the light around him, but Sira pulled out of his arms. "No. You go if you want, but I'm staying here. I like this world and think it's worth fighting for."
Springmorning blanched and started to reach for her, then stopped. He looked around at the ruined pasture, the dead and injured Aos Si and cows. He shook his head. "I don't want to go underground without you, Sira. I've already lost your mother. I can't bear to lose you too. That's why I—" He choked, stumbled away, and fell to his knees.
He didn't need to finish his sentence. Carla knew how it would have ended. That's why he rebelled against DeWheat. That's why he went to the mall to meet with Sunblade. That's why he'd attacked and killed Rocky Meadows. All because DeWheat had forced Sira to school and away from her father.
Dusty turned from Springmorning and went to help the injured. Sira knelt beside her father and rubbed his arm. "Stay here with me. Let me go to school. Please. It's only a few hours every day. We'll have all the rest of the time to work on the farm together. The land will need our help after this. It needs your care and gift."
Carla stumbled away from them. She avoided DeWheat's body where it lay on the blasted ground. Other Aos Si had fallen, burned, cut, battered.
She found Katrina Liang on the ground where she'd fallen to Fireknife's whip. Her clothes still smoldered, and a black burn ran from her cheek down her neck and chest to her left knee. Carla knelt beside her and felt for a pulse.
Katrina moaned and her eyes fluttered open. "Carla?" she said, her voice thick with pain.
"I know. I look different. No longer human. I'll explain later." She unzipped her jacket and willed the healing power into her. It responded sluggishly. The battle had torn away so much energy. Carla took off her jacket and laid it beside her, then called for the energy again. The golden light seeped into her bit by bit until she had enough to direct it into Katrina.
The healing took longer than it had with Shade and Springmorning, but it hurt Carla less. Small flows of power, controlled, worked so much better. "I think I'm getting the hang of this."
She lifted her hands away. Dead Skin flaked away from Katrina's burn, showing pink new skin beneath. Katrina ran her hand across her chest and sat up. "You're even better than Orpheus at pulling people back from the dead."
Carla's hands tingled, and she shook them out. "It was you. You were lead for the New York City Ballet."
Katrina smiled. "Yes, but I had to pretend to grow old and retire. I was thinking of auditioning again soon." She stood and gave Carla a hand up.
The stench of burned flesh and blood-soaked earth pulled Carla's thoughts back from the ballet. DeWheat's shot-riddled body caught her eye. She winced and turned away. "I can't bring people back from the dead. Even Orpheus couldn't." An emptiness opened up inside her.
Katrina stumbled away to help the other wounded.
Carla retrieved her jacket and turned to find Jethro still thrashing on the ground close by. A long gash of blistered and burned flesh crossed his back. His head, with its terrifying curved horns that had haunted Carla, rocked back and forth with pain. Carla's heart pounded in fear as she stepped closer to the wounded animal.
"Jethro," she said, holding out her hands. "I can help you. Will you let me?"
Jethro let out a plaintive moo, and a deep voice rumbled in her mind. Pain.
"I know," Carla said. "Let me help you."
Jethro didn't answer. Carla crept toward him and placed her hand against his burned hide. He flinched and went still. She pulled power from the sun, since so much of the power in the land had been drained. The hot glow filled her and flowed into the bull. Jethro let out a low moo, and then got to his feet, shaking his great horns.
Thank you. Again his voice rumbled in her mind, stronger this time.
"No. Thank you," Carla said. "You're a hero. You saved us all."
Jethro snorted. You can repay me with a big barrel of oats. Oh, and sorry for nearly killing you the other night. Springmorning's my friend, and I don't like people who try to sneak onto his property. He pawed the ground and then trotted off to round up his herd.
Carla chuckled. So it had been real. Jethro had attacked her, and DeWheat had healed her and taken her home. Sorrow stabbed through her at the thought of DeWheat. She refused to look over at his dead body again. He'd been a good man, kind and forgiving.
Carla got to her feet. A wave of dizziness washed over her. She snatched up her jacket, shrugged it on, and went to help with the rest of the wounded.