Days of Blood and Fire - Katharine Kerr [184]
“Now,” Evandar said mildly. “Let us talk, brother, shall we?”
With a shriek and clatter the Dark Court sprang up and flew. A huge flock of ravens wheeled once, sweeping round its pinnacle of land — For a moment black feathers beat against some invisible wall. As the birds fell back, trapped, taking their usual half-human, half-animal forms, Dallandra realized that there were far fewer of them. Only those with some real consciousness would survive such an ordeal, she supposed.
“Brother! I called you forward, did I not?”
Weeping and trembling, stripped of his fine armor and weapons, Lord Vulpine stepped to the edge of his side of the abyss.
“I will have retribution for this,” Evandar called out. “For the pain you’ve caused my woman and for the mocking of me.”
“All my lands are yours, and my vassals as well.”
“The lands were mine anyway, and I don’t want your stinking pack of monsters. Tell me your name.”
Lord Vulpine howled in agony.
“Not that, never that.”
Evandar snapped his fingers. A chunk of the Dark Court’s island prison broke free and tumbled into the abyss, vanishing as it did so in a scatter of brown dirt that in turn dissolved into naught.
“Your name, brother.”
“No!”
Another cliff slid down and crumbled to disappear. The remnant of the Dark Court’s army howled and wept, rushing to the center of their island, pushing and jostling one another in their greed to escape the edge.
“Brother, your name. You tricked me out of mine, and now I shall have yours in amends.”
The fox warrior sneered and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at Evandar in silent defiance. The creatures behind him began to beg and weep. Evandar hesitated, then with a flick of his fingers sent a chasm tearing through the prison, separating the warriors from their leader.
“You have one last chance,” Evandar said. “Tell me or I’ll hurl you back into the chaos you were born from.”
His brother spun round, staring at the fissure, staring at his army, as if he’d been counting on Evandar’s pity for his men to protect him as well. His own court began to jeer and mock him, taunting him for his weakness, calling out their allegiance to Evandar instead, until the fox warrior howled at them.
“Some dweomer do I have yet, and I’ll kill you all myself!”
They fell silent at that and crouched, watching Evandar across the gulf.
“Brother—the name!”
The fox warrior spun back, throwing his head from side to side as slowly, one crumble, one split at a time, the tiny pinnacle of land round him began to fall away, first from behind his feet, then to his left, to his right, then the last little sliver in front of him, till he stood paralyzed with horror on barely enough ground to support both feet.
“Shaetano,” he screamed. “And curse you and your elven whore both!”
Evandar laughed aloud and snapped his fingers. With a roar like flooding water the island of land rushed out, spreading to meet the solid ground round it as the fissure healed. Screaming and cursing the Dark Court fled, leaping over the last little crack and racing away in the billowing dust. Only Shaetano remained, sinking to his knees, cringing, weeping, and snarling all at once as he tossed his head this way and that.
“Tell me somewhat,” Evandar said. “Who’s the elder, you or I?”
He looked up,