Mercy Thompson 06 - River Marked

water. I used the force of her movement to aid mine as I stabbed down with the end of the staff. As I plunged it down to the heart, I saw the silver-shod end re-form into a spearhead. The spear slid six inches into her heart and stopped as if it had hit something solid. As we began to drop back to the water, the river devil twisted, rolling upright.
    All the metal in the staff flared white-hot. My feet slipped off the slick side of the river devil, and instinct had me grab the shaft with all I was worth, even as the heat seared my hands. I doubt I could have held on for another second, but a second was all it took.
    The staff started to shift relative to the monster, and I thought my weight was pulling it out, but a frantic look showed me something else, just before water closed over my head.
    The staff had sucked the heat from her flesh, turned her black heart to white ice. The weight of my body had given more torque to the staff; the heart cracked and pulled loose from the river devil’s body.
    Somehow, I ended up under the river devil, and she carried me to the bottom, which was not too deep. I wiggled and pulled to get out from under her—it would be too ironic to end up dead after all of this, dead in less than six feet of water.
    I lost track of the walking stick, but that was all right: it would be back. Once I was free, it took me almost too long to decide which way was up. I finally went limp and assumed that up was the direction I floated. I surfaced eventually. Had we been any deeper, I might not have.
    There were chunks of ice melting in the water. They reeked of magic and blood and I avoided touching them as I swam very slowly back to shore. When the water was too shallow to swim, I crawled. Getting to my feet was just way too much work.
    I struggled out of the water and found a last spurt of strength to get to where Adam lay. With a hand buried in his thick fur, I had enough courage to roll over to look at the river devil. She was floating still, her body moving with the motion of the water. The wound I’d made was still there; it wasn’t healing.
    “Adam,” I said to his unconscious body. “Adam, we did it.”
    I put my forehead down on his side and let myself believe.
    “I should let you live,” a man’s voice snarled, unconsciously echoing the river devil’s words—or maybe he’d heard her, too.
    I looked up to see a man standing between me and the river. His features were all wrong, like a bad drawing. Almost human, but not quite. He wore a dry pair of jeans and a WSU sweatshirt, but his feet were bare. He had a ragged beard that was a slightly darker color than his hair. Though there had been all sorts of emotion in his voice, there was none on his face. It was peculiarly blank, like a particularly strong form of autism: a trait, I decided, with two examples to draw from, that must be common to all otterkin.
    “What?” I asked him stupidly because his words didn’t quite make sense.
    “You blooded one of Lugh’s creations in the heart of a creature even older and more magical than the walking stick is,” he said. “I should just let you live with what you have made. But you must pay the price for killing our creature, she whom we awakened at great cost from her deep sleep.”
    I was too tired for this. I hurt. There wasn’t any part of me that didn’t hurt, but especially my hand where I’d hit the river devil’s heart. Actually, both hands throbbed wickedly from grabbing the staff while it was hot. The leg that the river devil had smacked with her tentacle ached, too, that kind of deep ache that told me I’d suffered real damage. I was also bleeding from quite a collection of slices and cuts. It belatedly occurred to me that my weariness might stem from blood loss as much as the energy I’d expended killing the river devil.
    “You woke her up.” I could sit up, I told my body firmly. It protested, but finally managed. I was going to pull my legs up, too, but, after the first attempt to do so, I decided to leave them where they were for the moment.
    “It took us two months and all our magic—and you just killed her? Arrogant vermin interfering in something that is no business of yours.” He was holding something in his right hand, I thought, but I couldn’t tell what because it was slightly behind him, and I couldn’t make my body move again to see what it was just yet.
    “That’s right,” I agreed. “I killed her. It seemed like the proper thing to do at the