PULL ME UNDER - White Witch - Thirty-Five & The Bard's Song - Thirty-Six

The final chapters!

(This is it! The end of Pull Me Under! When I first posted the intro, way back on April 15th 2023, there were only 4 whole recipients—now there’s almost 200! Thank you so much to everyone who has been following along, I appreciate you all!

To new subscribers, you can click the TOC link below to start at the start—e-book next Saturday! Please, please let me know your thoughts in the comments! Good, bad, anything at all!)

[Table of Contents]

[Previous Chapter]

Thirty-Five

Lauren’s belly cramped at the impact of her rump on the grass, but there was no time to worry—Tanner’s weight over her legs had her kicking, wriggled free she gave a couple good heels to his face, payment. Over her brother’s back, Ddun came in, the sounds of fists and soon Tanner’s face was pressed in the snow, arms held at his back.

It was too dark while her eyes adjusted, but she could smell the salt of blood in the air, peat fires unseen, and something like raw meat. A crackling in the distance, flashes of pinks and yellows, and the grinding of bones and squeals of iron. The skeletons had returned with their “king.”

Digging fingernails under Lauren’s arm, a blade at her neck to punctuate Ddun’s name as she screamed it. Nauseatingly sweet perfume, it had to be Meired.

Ddun went up to his knees, huffing exhausted, the faintest glow of magic. Blond hair loose from his braid and tossed in tangles, shoulders tense and body shaking with the adrenaline of the fight as he lifted his bloodied hands up.

“Give her the magic back,” Meired’s voice was older than Lauren remembered, a dryness and deepness that was strange, but the sultry acid was the same. Ddun glared over Lauren’s shoulder, hatred burning hot, but it didn’t seem to matter. “Get over here and give it back.” The knife pushed up harder under Lauren’s jaw.

“You won’t kill her,” Ddun said with gruff confidence, “or you would have in Kaddusk.”

“Do you really want to risk it?” Meired asked. “I see her precious little belly there, yours I assume?” Tanner was getting up onto his knees now, brushing off his clothes and slicking his hair back as if he was getting up from a schoolyard brawl. He walked off with uneven steps, somewhere behind Meired, walking until the crunch of leather on snow became scuffs of leather on stone. Ddun stood, creeping forward to Lauren’s side.

Whatever Ddun had to do, fine—Lauren was busy fighting off the urge to take the knife from the bitch and plant it firmly between the tits she felt pressed up against her back. Ddun glanced at Lauren, catching her thoughts but resigning to the command to give the magic back. So long as they could get Tanner away—whatever had happened to him would be worked out after the fact. The one thing Lauren needed to know was how Tanner had called himself King. She couldn’t have crowned him—could she?

Ddun bent close. He slipped something into her hand as he kissed her, pressing it firmly into her wrappings and despite the pain, she gripped it tight. The heat of the magic swam through her, and as Ddun pulled back he sank with his head nearly touching the ground from exhaustion.

Meired kept the knife at Lauren’s neck, standing up and Lauren followed by force. A shove sprawled Ddun out, his chest heaving and blood beading fresh from his cuts, glinting red like the eyes of the horses.

Fiddling with the little thing in her mess of bandages—a Dvarri bone knife. Find Tanner first.

“What now?” Lauren asked to break the silence.

“You’ll come with me, and he’ll get crushed under the hooves of Tanner’s army.”

“Tanner’s army? Or yours,” Ddun asked, again a switch of words. He spat blood with a turn of his head but stayed where he fell.

“His, of course.”

“And what about Grandfather?”

“Oh, he’s long dead. Tanner was merciful with him though, I promise. As he was with everyone in Kisku. Now, come along.”

The place was thick with magic, so heavy it was stifling. There must have been a slew of leylines coming in and diverging on this place. Tiny lights like fireflies hovered in clusters as they walked, swirling around standing stones carved in runes. It reminded her of the pillars in Kaddusk—more primitive, almost coarse, as if the carvers were anxious to get their words down before they were caught. The granite at their feet scraped at her shoes as she stepped awkwardly by Meired’s grasp. Whispering voices all around them like a chorus of gossiping children, and the ground elevated as the stones underneath came up in mounds.

A path of carved stairs, worn bowed from years of use led them up to what Lauren imagined must be the Thrones—enormous pillars of rock, even with just the little white lights floating around, it took her breath away. Arranged in a half-circle with the tallest in the middle, and that’s where Tanner lounged with one leg up over the arm of a huge stone chair, as if trying to sleep, unmoving as they approached, arms crossed over his stomach, the very picture of laziness despite everything. Rattling bones and creaking sinew echoed through the air. Hidden in the shadows, Lauren was certain all sorts of terrifying things stood in wait for her to do something stupid, for Ddun to come after them. She pressed the flat of the bone knife against her palm and began to sweat. Even if she did shove it into Meired, what else would she have to contend with? Tanner wasn’t himself. Would he hurt me?

Meired finally took the blade away from Lauren’s neck and stepped away from her. Older than before... She knelt at the stone chair. “I need my magic back now, love.”

Love. Lauren had to stifle a laugh. Meired clearly didn’t see how he—not some illusion—had mourned for Irynna.

Tanner sat up with a grunt, eyes still piercing, deep set as if he hadn’t slept in days and yet bright and alert. He had his own magic, didn’t he? Or was she taking his?

“Not now. Not until my army returns from Kisku.”

“Ddun’s army holds Kisku, and everyone inside the walls were slaughtered.” Lauren informed him, in case he had no clue—forcing confidence even if she was thoroughly confused, too. Which army was he talking about? Was the army they just fought at the camp his army? Or was it something else?

They both ignored her. “Please, my King, my gracious King, I need it back now.” She traced graceful fingers along his jaw, almost sensual, and Lauren had to turn away before she puked. Tanner didn’t have those bewitched eyes, but there was something wrong. Otherwise, Lauren might try to raise Irynna from the grave right there so she could take her revenge out on them both.

“Why do you keep calling him King, and what do you need me for? Might as well spit it out.”

“He’s King because I crowned him,” Meired said.

Tanner only moaned and laid back down on the throne. He was sweating now, and Lauren couldn’t help but feel her worry rise like bile. There was something wrong, more obvious as Meired backed away. He clutched at his guts, a huff fluttering his lips, and Lauren was too terrified to move.

“At daybreak, you’ll see why the Dvarri throne is so coveted. And why your brother is so, so lucky.”

“He doesn’t look lucky.”

“He’ll be better soon.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Just as Lauren asked the question, her brother twisted over the edge of the chair and retched thick white liquid, shaking as the last drops fell from his lips. The noise and sight and smell made her own guts writhe. She smelled that before—when he first escaped from Meired. That was what was on his breath, only this was far stronger.

“Get her out of here,” he said. “Take her back to Ddun and get her out.”

But Tanner was in there, somewhere, though she buried the light of hope deep down. “Oh, you remember us now? You two just beat the shit out of each other and it was like you didn’t know us.”

He retched again, more white goo. After a good spit, he glared at her. His eyes were just as empty as before, perhaps that was only a moment of lucidity. Just like the other Tanner. She wondered if they had shared anything, any sort of consciousness between them.

“Do you remember what happened to Irynna?”

Nothing.

“She was hung over the gatehouse wall.”

Meired held the knife low as if to threaten the baby instead of Lauren herself. “Quiet up now, I’d hate to have you upset him.”

“Why am I here?” It was getting very difficult to keep herself held together, ready to explode with fury and confusion, and the only thing stopping her were the whispers she kept hearing in the shadows, her fear of this new Tanner, and for the old one. “What the fuck do you want from me?”

“Your magic!” And Meired dove to her, eyes wild, knife swiping at the air.

The unevenness of the rock stumbled Lauren as she dodged. Catching herself, she held the bone knife in her fist, the searing pain of the burns an afterthought to the need to keep herself standing.

“Tanner helped me a great deal, getting me unstuck from the way between. My false body couldn’t use the portals. Now, I want a portal to your world opened, and I want it as the sun rises.”

“I don’t know how to do that—”

“You can, and you will—”

She spat in Meired’s face, a satisfying slap of saliva on overly plump lips. That sort of behaviour often got Lauren into trouble with Duke, and it seemed she never did learn her lesson. Meired wiped the spit as if she were personally betrayed, and thrust the knife toward Lauren again with a howl.

“You will! Now that you’re here where I want you!”

Lauren barely dodged the knife then, falling back into one of the stone pillars. She felt it hum against her back.

Feeling trapped, she used her thumb to push the small blade between her fingers, cutting through bandage, the hilt in her palm like a set of keys.

And Meired was on her, they both struggled—pulling hair, biting skin, fingernails digging cheeks.

Blocking Meired’s arm with one hand, the other pumped the little blade into the hag’s stomach. It wasn’t enough to kill, but to see Meired doubled over trying to push the blood back into herself, Lauren felt more exhilarated than when she left Duke on their kitchen floor. She kicked up under Meired’s chin and sent her backwards.

To see Tanner’s boots by Meired’s head was a surprise. Lauren paused, and Meired panicked—face pale, lips moving as if she was trying to speak but no sound came.

“You really don’t know my sister, do you?”

As he stepped closer, the humming from the rocks reached a low tonal buzz, a strange harmony.

Meired attempted a smile to soothe his mood. “T-Tanner, please—”

It didn’t work. He went down on his knee, a hand firmly on Meired’s throat, and Lauren felt a burden on her shoulders lift to know her brother was still in there.

Pleading coughs, Meired’s eyes bulging as she choked, red seeping through her dress. The tearing sound of a hundred portals openning—more horsemen came back through, the thunder of dozens of real, solid hooves on rock drowning out the strange hum from the standing stones. The earth spun, shook, rocks cracked in the distance. Ddun came up the stairs, hands on either side of the stone gap to keep from falling.

Tanner drooled a line of white, letting it drip unheeded. “You’re nothing without stolen magic, you cunt. Now you can give it to me.” He was growling, and Lauren wished she could see his eyes. Whatever look he was giving Meired, she was terrified, kicking her legs and clawing at his hand, but he only squeezed harder. Lights flew around them in wild swirls, the murmers of voices from the shadows reaching a crescendo. Lauren trembled with fright, no longer excited to see her brother kill the witch but awestruck at what was happening. She ran to Ddun, let him shield her from the sight of all the devils coming from the portals between the stones and down on the flatland. If this was what the magic in her veins could do, she didn’t want it.

When he finally stood, he beckoned to one of the riders. “Take her,” he said, and the rider dismounted with a rattle of armour and bones, and dragged Meired’s corpse to the saddle. What they might do with the body, Lauren stopped herself from imagining.

They joined Tanner near the throne. “Tell me,” Lauren said, “you remember us now. Tanner, tell me you remember us.”

“Of course I do.”

She held him tighter than she had in ages, sobbing into his shoulder, but he didn’t return her affection. His skin was hot to the touch, feverish, though he was as pale as the dead. “What happened to you?”

“I don’t know.”

She pushed his hair from his brow. He looked through her, no hint of his smirk, focusing on something miles away. “Will you tell me when you’re ready?”

“N-no. No. No. You should go.”

Ddun put a hand on her shoulder, settling her shakes only a little.

“You’re worrying me. I mean, more than I was. Talk to me, look at me, you son-of-a-bitch.” Her words fell ignored, until Ddun pulled something from the folds of his waistband. The fingerbone necklace dangled from his fingers in front of Tanner, inviting him to take it. He looked up at Ddun, eyes like a child, and took the necklace with a firm grip. “Thank you.”

“Where do you want us to go?” Ddun asked.

Lauren spun to him. “What? No, we’re not going anywhere, not without him.”

“Take her home, take her home. Don’t let anyone call her a witch again. It’s not funny anymore.”

“Are you… Really…” Ddun faltered.

“She did something. Some ceremony. There’s a crown and everything.” He finally chuckled, but it was hollow. “I’m going to stay here a while.” A gold light flickered around his head as if to illustrate the words, and faded.

“It was all to trick you,” Lauren felt so sure, “just forget all this and come back with us.”

“When she put it on my head I felt as if my... soul… like it was dying.” He swallowed. “I didn’t understand what was happening to me. I put those… dead men on horses—I thought of the wrong kind of horses for this place! They listen to me, now. Let me… Let me stay.”

“Alright. Lauren, let’s leave him be.”

But the army of ghouls behind them all rattled their weapons as she prepared to say “no,” Ddun gripped her arm tight—but she ignored it all. “Fuck you if you think I’m leaving you here,” she pushed Tanner’s shoulder. “I’m not walking away from you again, you hear me?”

“I’m telling you to, this time. Ddun, take her home.”

“Yes, my King.” Ddun held Lauren close, pinning her arms, to stop her from doing something rash like giving Tanner a slap across the face.

Tanner looked at him with disbelief, but at least it was a different emotion. No one spoke, until Tanner opened up a portal to the camp at Kisku. “Don’t tell anyone about that.”

Ddun nodded. “We won’t.”

The Bard’s Song

Thirty-Six

Suitcase stuffed with gifts, guitar case on his back. No one saw him coming.

He watched as Ddun paced frantic outside the medicine tent, Rudda alongside trying to calm the big man down—but he was too caught up in being belligerent, threatening to deck poor Rudda if he didn’t leave him be. When Lauren screamed and Ddun would run to the tent, he’d get beat away with fistfulls of dried herbs by a stalwart tent guardian in jingling skirts. There was a slew of warriors all lounging and laughing, all getting drunk in the morning to the tune of Lauren’s howling, still dressed in battle-clothes from some recent tussle. They were all celebrating, and Tanner smiled to himself to know that he was only going to be adding to their chaos when he hopped out from the shadows.

He took a deep chesty breath of the fresh westland prairie air, free of car exhaust or sidewalk dirt, during a lull in the pushing. The women murmured in the tent as he passed, a quiet hush over the audience around the bonfire.

A nice rock to sit, Tanner plunked the suitcase at his feet and took the guitar out of its case, the snaps of the latches drawing curiosity as he allowed himself to be seen. Horns of beer were held up with cheers as he began strumming his new Martin guitar he did not pay for, acquired on his travels. Ddun nearly collapsed at the sight of him there on the rock—instead, grown redder in the face, he shouted: “Tanner! You prick! Lauren is having the baby and you decide now is a good time to grace us—”

“Of course!” Tanner held up a hand to stop Ddun. “I have something here for you.”

Then came the sound of a newborn wailing, sending Ddun to his knees, and Rudda gave a rare laugh.

The tent guardian popped her head from the flap, and Tanner held his breath to hear what her beaming face had to announce. “Ddun! Congratulations! You’ve got a beautiful, healthy baby boy!”

All the warriors cheered, shouting words of good fortune. Tanner stood with arms out, and Ddun took him in a tight embrace, thudding each other’s backs and laughing with enthusiasm. It felt like no time at all had passed and it filled Tanner’s heart. “It’s good to see everyone again,” Tanner said warmly in Ddun’s ear. “Now go see your kid.”

Ddun went to the basin outside the tent and frantically scrubbed his hands and face to be allowed entrance, still dripping with water as he tore through the opening. Tanner stayed back, waiting for the invitation, opening up his suitcase and pulling out the gift he acquired for Lauren. A case of chocolate. He washed his face and hands, calmly and carefully, waiting for Ddun to call him in.

Lauren was drenched with sweat, dark hair pooled chaotic around her head, but she was as beautiful as ever. As the tent flap closed behind Tanner and her eyes focused on his she sprang to life—as much as she could after pushing a human out of her—a hand outstretched. “How nice of you to visit!” she said with a weak laugh. “Go see your nephew.”

He didn’t, not until he saw her first. He took her hand and slipped the gift into it, her eyes widening at the sight of paper and foil. “There’s more,” he said.

“Where’d you get this?”

“I took a trip. Brought back some souvenirs.”

“You didn’t.” Of course he had, but there was no use in talking anymore, not as she began to sob happy and exhausted and he took her in a gentle hug on the bedding—avoiding the bowl of afterbirth. He allowed himself a small bit of crying himself, what with the birth of a child and all. “How did you know when to show up?”

“I just was thinking about you.”

Ddun was absolutely mesmerized by the tiny pink duplicate of himself, rendered purely mute. Tanner had never seen such a look on Ddun’s face, so much bemusement and wonder and awe and love and maybe even fear, all stamped there. The baby looked so tiny against Ddun’s chest, though by the midwife’s account it was not a small child at all, poor Lauren.

“So you’re the little terror that gave your poor mother so much trouble already,” Tanner said. A tiny fist clenched up against a swollen cheek. Dark hair like his mother’s, a short fuzz, but otherwise the squished resemblance to Ddun was uncanny. He flexed his little wrinkly fingers and Tanner fixed his finger in to let the baby squeeze it, and he just about choked with the joy of it.

“If he’s anything like you he’ll be giving me lots more trouble,” Lauren said.

“Ah, go easy on the poor kid. He can’t help it.” He cleared a choke from his throat to ask Ddun if he planned on showing the little guy to the horde outside.

“No you are not,” the midwife said. “We still need to bathe him and latch him. And Lauren needs more care herself.”

“Alright, alright, we get the hint. Come on Dad, I come bearing gifts.” Ddun was reluctant to give up the bundle, and it seemed as if he only breathed again when the fresh air hit him and the cheers resumed. Tanner led Ddun over to the suitcase, opening the latch and taking out a bottle of bourbon and a box of cigars. First he opened the bourbon and took a sip himself, before passing it to Ddun who took a sip and gave the bottle a contemplative assessment, a second sip to assure himself he enjoyed the taste. Tanner opened the box of cigars, ran one under his nose for a great huff before cutting the end. “Don’t inhale into your lungs,” he instructed. “It’s a tradition where I come from that a new father get cigars as a gift. So, I couldn’t resist the trip.” He clipped the end off another cigar and held one to his own lips to light it. He passed the lit one to Ddun after taking the first few puffs to show how it was done, and goddamn did the big man suit the look of a cigar in his lips.

“So, you just walked back and forth, like nothing, to collect these things?” Ddun coughed the words and Tanner laughed, his own mouth happily coated with the flavour of a good stolen cigar.

“And it’s the perfect crime. I didn’t even have to try and sneak around. Hard for the law to catch a dimension hopping lunatic.” Cigars were passed to Rudda and Borga and whoever else wanted to try one. There were four other boxes in the suitcase—extras on hand, to last a big while longer. Opening the portals between the worlds took a lot of effort, which he didn’t care to experience again any time soon. Two other bottles of bourbon, and a box of toys for the little guy. Tanner had gone back to his own closet, for his small precious collection of He-Man toys. He even grabbed a couple of Lauren’s old My Little Ponies and a Cabbage Patch doll, just in case. He kept that box closed until Lauren was able to take a look through it.

Ddun contemplated the cigar, a smile spreading on his face. “I like it.”

“Good!” Tanner slapped Ddun on the back again and took another swig of the bourbon, the burning heat in his gut a welcome feeling. He planned on getting Ddun thoroughly shitfaced for his own amusement before having to go. “One more thing for you.”

“Gods save me, what else?”

Under the box of chocolate was a box of maple glaze doughnuts. The second Ddun bit into one, his face melted with pleasure. “You don’t have to share those if you don’t want.”

“I won’t!” Ddun sat in front of the rock, cradling the box of doughnuts in one arm, bottle of bourbon at his side, cigar between his fingers—and as he indulged in the rich sweetness of pure carbs, Tanner beamed at this small game of making his noble friend look like a common miscreant.

But he attempted seriousness. “You gotta promise, you won’t touch her for a good couple months, alright? Leave my sister the hell alone or I’ll send one of my knights so far up your ass you’ll be spitting bones.”

Ddun turned to him, face clouded by smoke. “Just play your fucking songs,” he commanded, and Tanner obliged, trying to avoid the thought that if he stayed much longer away from his rock the cavalry would all be searching for their king.

THE END