I guess his idea was to crush me in a bear hug, or pick me up and throw me overboard. But neither one of us accounted for the explosion of fury that came from the Ferryman of the Dead. Manannán took a swing at Dub with his pole, and connected with a real Babe Ruth swat. The force of the blow knocked Dub over the railing.
Unfortunately, he still had a hold on me, and pulled me over with him. I held on tight to the chain, and as Dub fell toward the beach below, I dangled over the edge. Briefly. But the chain wasn’t fastened to anything, and when the coil of links on the deck paid out, down I fell too. I watched the ground racing up at us, and saw the splattering impact when Dub slammed into the sand. I had only a second to enjoy the sight before I’d slam into the ground myself... I felt an impact on my face. But it was not the unyielding ground, smashing me to jelly, as I was expecting. It was Katie, smacking me on the cheek as she shook me.
“Keira! Wake up! Keira!”
My eyes opened. I was still on the beach, in the same place I had fainted. Sometime must have passed, because our boat was no longer on the beach, but back in the water, and floating. Trying to process this, I figured that while I was out cold, Keegan must have put in back in the water, so we could get on board and escape. Which we needed to do right goddamn now, I realized, because the dark sky had grown incrementally lighter. Daybreak was moments away, and the horizon appeared faintly gray.
I tried to shake my fuzzy brain awake. “Katie? The boat… we have to—”
A sharp cry of pain stopped me. It was Brann’s voice, and his howl shocked me alert with adrenaline. “Keira,” Katie begged. “He’s killing them!”
I dragged my sluggish body up, as I turned to see Dub, locked in combat with Keegan and Brann. All three of them were covered in blood, with gashes and stab wounds. Keegan was trying to rise from his knees, to help Brann. Dub had him pinned, and was struggling to drive a dagger down into Brann’s face. All of them were weakened by their wounds, but the toll was mounting for my boys. But for Dub, the immortal motherfucker, his body kept healing as fast as the damage piled up, and the balance was in his favor now. They needed help, fast.
“Katie!” I gripped her arm desperately. “My pack! Where is it?”
She pointed to our gear, piled just above the tide line. “There!”
I stumbled for my backpack. I was still so loopy, I moved like I was trapped in tar. I wasn’t even half way there when Katie dashed past me, tore into my pack, and held out the towel, wrapped around the knife.
Careful to avoid the deadly blade, I unwrapped the towel... and found not the Bone Knife, but a fucking flashlight. “What the fuck!” I screamed. “I need the Bone Knife! Where is it?” I was desperate. I could see Dub, his dagger pressing closer and closer as Brann strained to hold it back.
“I have it,” said a voice that seemed almost to come from inside my head. “I took it from the cave.” As these words came, a shape seemed to materialize before me. It was the Donn. He was holding the Bone Knife. “I have kept it safe for you.”
I did not waste the time to inquire as to the nature of his disappearance or apparition. That could wait. But I couldn’t keep my mouth shut completely. “Why does everything have to be a steaming pile of CRYPTIC BULLSHIT!?”
“Such is the nature of these things,” the old blister shrugged.
As soon as my fingers closed around the weapon’s grip, it seemed to meld with my hand, a part of me. A surge of magic energy flowed into me. I wasn’t quite back to normal, but I had enough strength to get my feet moving toward the fight. And I had to hurry.
Keegan had recovered a bit himself. He saw Brann was in immediate danger, as Dub pressed his dagger closer and closer. Keegan grabbed his shillelagh up off the sand, and rushed Dub with a furious battle cry. The heavy blackthorn club whistled through the air and struck Dub’s head with a skull-fracturing crunch. Chunks of bone, blood, and brains misted the air, and Brann flipped Dub off him. He jammed a dagger of his own into Dub’s liver.
Of course, either wound would have killed any human. But as easily as he’d grown a new face after Omen tore it off, Dub’s skull was knitting together over the brain already growing back. Dub staggered back to his feet, as his brain did a hard reboot. He drew two more daggers from his leather tunic, and grinned at my friends. Fucker was ready to rumble. Again.
Keegan grabbed Brann’s hand and pulled him back on his feet. Both of them were bleeding, and huffing in ragged breaths. Brann’s glance flicked to me, but quickly away. Dub, whose back was to me, didn’t catch the look.
Keegan had also registered me. The two of them kept Dub busy reacting to their feints and lunges, as they worked together to keep Dub’s attention.
With Dub distracted, I crossed the beach and closed in. I was still woozy, and it took every last ounce of strength to raise my arm. But I did. I drove the killing blade deep into Dub’s back, right between the shoulder blades.
You’d expect this savage stab wound to result in a fountain of blood. Instead, a blinding light leaked out around the edges of the wound,
