Seven stared at the two women in confusion. Had Sorrow pulled it off? Had she talked Number Four down? Four seemed to be considering Sorrow’s words. She reached for Sorrow, her left hand touching the taller woman’s cheek as if wanting to be sure that Sorrow was truly real. That hand went to the back of Sorrow’s neck and she pulled her close as if to kiss her. Her right hand reached inside her jacket.

Seven knew that movement. He just had time to shout, 'No!' before Four had pulled the gun from the concealed holster, flicked the safety off and put it under Sorrow’s chin.

There were three loud clicks and the grove filled with the sound of laughter. Sorrow chuckled. The Morrigan made a harsher sound, like a cackle but somehow musical. The redheaded woman had a full-throated laugh and next to her Jude seemed to be concealing a snigger.

Four looked at the gun in confusion.

'Oh Sweetie,' said Sorrow, 'If guns worked in the Grove of the Morrigan we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I would have climbed a hill with a rifle and shot you from 300 metres away.'

Sorrow grabbed four by the throat. In the same moment Four swung the gun at the side of Sorrow’s face. The gun connected, but Sorrow seemed not to notice the impact and lifted Four off her feet. Sorrow threw herself forward, slamming the back of Four’s head into the ground. Four let out a high pitched wheezing noise but managed to kick Sorrow in the face. Sorrow staggered backwards a couple of steps before she regained her balance.

In the brief moment when Sorrow was off balance Four leapt to her feet and ran. She headed for the throne and Seven thought she was coming for him until he realised that her eyes were fixed on the stone object by the throne.

Sorrow regained her composure and drew a pair of swords from the single scabbard on her hip. Butterfly swords, matched blades the length of her forearms. She chased after Four.

Four dodged around the stone object, grabbing the black cloth, and ripping it off as she ran by it.

Sorrow faltered, slowing her pace as if sure that something was amiss. Under the cloth was a huge stone bowl. From his elevated position Seven could see that there was something inside the bowl, something wrapped in shiny black fabric that looked disturbingly like a body bag.

#

Sorrow’s hands were full. She didn’t remember deciding to draw her blades but there they were. 'Arm yourself,' she shouted at Four’s back as the woman fled toward the pool.

Something erupted out from the stone cauldron. It was completely wrapped in shiny black cloth and roughly human shaped but Sorrow paid more attention to the sword it held. It was a broadsword of an ancient design with a white metal blade that reflected so much light it almost glowed.

The name of that sword filled her mind. The Claiomh Solais. The blade of light. A sword built to slay monsters. She didn’t know where the name had come from. She heard the words in her mind as if someone had whispered it to her. Is this how it was for Cutty? To know but not know how you knew? To feel certainty but not trust that certainty?

Block. The word was huge, pushing every other thought aside.

The black-wrapped thing vaulted onto the side of the cauldron with the sword raised. The blade descended towards Sorrow’s head and time slowed.

Sorrow’s feet moved. Her hands came up, dragging the butterfly blades through the air as though slicing treacle.

Blade met blade and raised sparks. The sword of light bit into the butterfly swords as if they were junk and not the hardened steel that Sorrow knew them to be.

The black-wrapped thing tried to bear down, trying to use its height advantage to force her blades back. Sorrow held her ground.

Where was Number Four? Sorrow didn’t trust that woman anywhere she couldn’t see her. Four had to be expecting that this attack would fully occupy her attention.

Sorrow risked a look behind the black-clad figure. Number Four was knee deep in the pool retrieving something from beneath the water. Probably best to not let her do that.

Sorrow forced her blades up with all her strength. The black clad figure resisted, throwing its weight forward. The moment it was fully committed Sorrow tore her blades free and dropped into a crouch, letting the figure overbalance and topple forward as she rolled out of the crouch and charged at Number Four.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Too late.

Number Four pulled a spear from the water, its head wrapped in wet leather. Four ripped the wrapping away and the spear head ignited.

Sorrow lunged forward, trying to get inside the reach of the weapon before Number Four could turn but Four was faster and thrust the flaming spear towards Sorrow’s face.

Sorrow parried. She flicked the spear away with one blade and tried to slash at Number Four’s neck with the other but the smaller woman twisted out of the way.

Sorrow heard movement behind her. The black clad figure had already recovered. She pivoted and backed away from Four, trying to keep both enemies where she could see them.

'Who’s your friend?' said Sorrow.

The black wrapped figure tore the shredded cloth away from its face. It was a woman. She had short dark hair and almond shaped, brown eyes and full lips and Sorrow definitely knew her face from somewhere.

Gasps of shock reminded Sorrow that there were others in the grove. One of them came from the throne. She risked a glance at Number Seven. He was staring at this new woman as if he’d seen a ghost.

'Two?' said Seven.

That explained everything. She recognised the face from the files. Seven had just seen a ghost. The stranger was in the cauldron because she’d been dead since Tuesday.

'Why are you defending the person who killed you?' said Sorrow.

'I’m not. You are.' Number Two looked away from Sorrow and up at the throne. Two looked back and their eyes met. Sorrow wasn’t fooled. She knew exactly where Number Two was going but she couldn’t stop Two without turning her back on Four. She just had to trust that the rules of this battle went the way she thought they did. Life would be so much easier if the Goddess gave an informational pamphlet to her handmaidens the way the Department handed out guidebooks to new employees.

Number Two made her run at the throne. Sorrow pretended to be distracted and feinted that she was turning to follow.

Four was fast and quiet. Sorrow didn’t hear her but when she turned back the smaller woman was already nearly on her and there was a flaming spear point just inches from her face. Had Sorrow really followed Number Two she would have had a hole in the back of her head and burning hair.

Sorrow spun out of the way. Behind her she heard Number Two roar in frustration. The noise distracted Four. Sorrow tried to dart inside her guard but Four just backed up.

'If you want the prize you have to fight for him,' said the Morrigan.

'I don’t want him. I want him dead,' said Number Two.

'The disposition of the prize is up to you. But you have to win him first,' said the Morrigan.

Sorrow charged at Number Four. Four dodged but Sorrow had no intention of following through. She turned to face Number Two again and the woman was right where she expected her to be, running at her, sword raised.

Sorrow parried with one blade, edge biting into edge again, and slashed at Number Two’s armpit with the other.

The blade didn’t slash deep enough. It didn’t catch the brachial artery. Sorrow knew instantly because there wasn’t nearly enough blood. It must have hurt though because Number Two gasped and Sorrow could see that her left hand was no longer gripping the hilt quite as tightly.

'Are you ready to stop and listen yet?' said Sorrow.

'Why should I listen to you? You’re with him.' Number Two jerked her head in the direction of Number Seven.

'I can’t prove he didn’t kill you or Number One but he was on CCTV elsewhere when someone sent a flock of ravens to attack Number Three. Do you think he can summon carrion birds or does that sound more like Number Four?'

Number Two hesitated. Sorrow could see her thinking. 'You’re lying.'

'You think I can lie here? In the face of the Goddess? On the field of battle?' Hold on. Where was the other one?

Sorrow saw a movement reflected in Number Two’s eyes. She saw Number Two trying not to focus on something behind her. She dived to the left. The flaming spear passed through the air she’d been standing in and set Number Two’s trailing black cloth on fire.

Number Two spat out, 'You clumsy motherfucker,' and tore the last of the black cloth off.

Sorrow tried to scramble to her feet but Number Two was on her again. The sword of light slashing down toward her throat. She brought her blades up and caught it but again it bit into them. They wouldn’t take much more of that. One more big impact and they might break.

Sorrow exploded out of her crouch, caught Number Two in the chest with her shoulder and forced her back, off her feet, and onto the ground.

Sorrow could hear the other one behind her. She could visualise the flaming spear point coming for the back of her head. If she turned, Number Two would get her. If she didn’t then Four would get her. Sometimes you just have to take the hit and not care about how much it’s going to hurt.

She deflected the spear with her wings. The impact didn’t do much damage but the flames leapt to her feathers. The pain filled her with rage, the way pain always had, even when she was a child any injury just made her want to hit someone.

She struck down at Number Two with both blades just as the woman was trying to rise to her feet. Two parried and once more the Sword of light cut into the butterfly swords. This time it did destroy them. The blades sheared off just above the hilt leaving jagged shards of metal. Sorrow followed through leaving the two shattered blades embedded in Number Two’s chest.