No Dominion The Walker Papers - By CE Murphy Page 0,36

The army of monsters down below looked more like the first set: conjured up outta nightmares, but solid as the earth itself. I recognized a lot of ‘em, just like anybody with a working knowledge of European mythology would. There was everything from minotaurs to dragons and anything you cared to think about in between: chimeras and griffins, centaurs an’ trolls, giants and little people.

It was easy to tell which side was whose, ‘cause the Morrígan was leading the bad guys, and I wasn’t gonna forget her any time soon. Her black hair was tied back just like Brigid’s, an’ she wore black armor over her blue robes. Blood had been painted over the tattoos on her arms, making ‘em shine purple. Only two ravens were on her shoulders, but not ‘cause she’d killed one to escape Jo. The third had come back to life, or its spirit had been bound to a new shape or something, ‘cause the black horse she rode was just about feathered, an’ when it screamed it had a raven’s voice. Every time it cried, the ranks of monsters came together a little more.

But not all the living myths were behind her. A whole bunch were on our side. Aos sí rode centaurs into battle. Others were just standing and fighting, blades so fast and bright I couldn’t see ‘em as more than a blur even with the borrowed Sight. Ichor and gore splattered all over the place. A cat-like critter with nine lashing tails, all of ‘em on fire, jumped from one bad guy to another, disemboweling ‘em and leaving them to die messily. A ghost-colored horse without a rider slipped through places too small for a mouse, an’ kicked the brains outta the folks taking up its space when it stepped out again. I wondered if Imelda could do that, but she snorted. I took it as a no, and patted her neck right before we hit the ground and joined the fight.

There was no wasting time struggling toward the front lines. We crashed into them, horses and hounds smashing down from the air. Rooks flew at the Morrígan’s ravens, dozens against two. Black feathers rose and fell on the fight’s heat, birds shrieking loud enough to be heard over the sounds of swords and hooves. The dogs went through Morrígan’s army like a pack of wolves, hamstringing and taking out throats, then moving on like they’d come back later for the feast. I drew Jo’s rapier, and for a while the world was nothing but tryin’ ta survive.

War ain’t a straight picture in the mind. It ain’t the battlefield they show in movies, where things make a kinda macabre sense. All it is is flashes, moments when something far away comes crystal clear, or something up close burns itself into your memory forever. It’s noise, even if horses and monsters and swords made a whole different kinda noise than the guns I’d heard in Korea. The screams were still the same, and dead was dead no matter if you got killed by a bullet or an ax. A lotta the smells were the same too, blood and dirt and the purity of fresh air when wind blew some of the stink away. There was the smell of horses here, too, and nothing of gunpowder, but it was close enough to remind me of things I tried not ta think about.

I saw bits of what was going on around me. People an’ creatures dying, plenty of ‘em thanks to me. Every time one of ‘em died I thought about the cauldron, and imagined it being unbound. If we lost, the spell we’d put on the thing would get broken, and the Master would bring every single critter who died here back to life.

It was a hell of a reason to fight, the idea we were keeping the world from getting overrun by zombies. I figured we had to win, ‘cause on my end of time we weren’t all zombies, but knowing that didn’t make the fight any less urgent. My arm got heavy after all, even if the sword was magic, an’ time and again I was grateful to Brigid, ‘cause I was pretty sure she’d pulled our army together and got ‘em up here on this hilltop to meet the Morrígan’s army before it got to us and the cauldron. We were better off fighting in the open daylight instead of the twists and dark tunnels where the cauldron was hidden. I