Authors: Laura DeLuca
“Too much salt and sugar,” Tiarn said and
belched. “I can see why you have trouble keeping up with me if this
is the way you eat in your world. This food is not fit for swine.”
That didn’t stop him from finishing off the rest of the soda she
had set aside.
“That wasn’t my world,” Morrigan told him. “I
was never at home there. Here, under the light of the moons, I know
I’m really home for the first time in my life. I think I could
actually be happy here.”
“It is not all so beautiful,” Tiarn
whispered, but he lay down beside her in the grass for a just a
moment to admire the peace of the night. “There are wars, deceit,
and death. There is so much darkness.” He shook his head sadly,
lost in some memory Morrigan was not a part of.
“No place is going to be completely perfect,”
she admitted with a sigh. “At least here, I have a chance to make a
difference. Maybe if we . . . no, maybe after we free my mother,
there can be peace, and then things will get better.”
“Such large dreams for such a little girl,
Morrigan.” He touched her cheek, and she turned to meet the heavy
stare of his green eyes. “I hope you will not be disappointed by
the cold realities of life.”
Morrigan felt herself slide just a little
closer to him. Their hands brushed, sending shivers down her spine.
He leaned in closer, and she felt the warmth of his breath on her
skin. His lips parted, and she thought for one blissful moment she
would know what is was like to feel his kiss. But before the
magical moment could happen, Tiarn jumped up, knocking over the
soda can and spilling the last of its contents in his haste to get
away from her. He brushed the dirt from his knees and cleared his
throat.
“I should gather more firewood,” he said and
refused to meet her gaze. “The night air is cool tonight. I would
not want you to catch a chill. Hecate would skin my hide.”
Morrigan let out a breath she hadn’t realized
she’d been holding. She wished she had the nerve to tell him he was
all she needed to stay warm. Instead, she only nodded and watched
in heartbreaking silence as he disappeared into the trees. Morrigan
shook her head, but that did nothing to help clear her thoughts or
slow her accelerated heartbeat. Tiarn, on the other hand, seemed
completely unaffected by what had almost been Morrigan’s very first
kiss. She wondered if the spark she sensed between them was no more
than her imagination. Did he yearn with a need that was almost
painful, or was she alone in her delusions?
Sitting by the crackling fire, she decided
she had to find out. Her tarot cards had never steered her wrong.
Perhaps if she did a quick reading while Tiarn was off collecting
wood, she could get the answers she longed for. One way or the
other, it was better to know the truth than to wonder.
Morrigan grabbed her backpack and dug into
the bottom of the bag until she felt the familiar velvet wrap. Just
the feel of the cards in her hands gave her an immediate rush of
power coupled with a sense of security. She removed them from the
package, delicately, lovingly, careful of the aging paper. She took
a few deep, cleansing breaths to help clear her mind before she
began to shuffle. Nearby, the even breathing of the sleeping cats
seemed to echo her own.
As she mixed the cards, she envisioned Tiarn
in all his masculine beauty. She saw each feature of his face from
his stubbly, unshaven chin to his sarcastic smile in exquisite
detail. She felt her heartbeat quicken at the thought of him and
almost lost her concentration. Her will was strong, and she felt
the power rising to a crescendo within her. When her instincts told
her the cards had fallen into their proper positions, she stopped
shuffling and laid the deck on the ground by her feet. She had only
just lifted the first card from the deck and was about to look at
it when suddenly, the entire stack was hurled into the nearby
campfire with one swift kick of a leather-clad boot. Flames
sputtered and sparked as they ingested the worn paper, and even
with her control of the element, she knew there was no way to save
them.
Morrigan jolted to her feet, ready to fight
and defend herself from whatever enemy was attacking. In her haste,
she dropped the one remaining tarot card to the ground. It took her
a moment to realize it was Tiarn who stood there, though he was
glaring at her in a way that made him seem like an enemy.
“Fool!” he shouted. He kicked at the dirt
where the cards had lain, as though he wished he could cast them
into the flames all over again. “Damn you, witch! Do you have any
idea what you have done?”
“Nothing but shuffle, thanks to you,”
Morrigan huffed. She was furious, not only because of his insults,
but also because of the loss of her beloved tarot cards. “What did
you do that for?”
“You are a fool!” Tiarn repeated. “Even I
could sense your magic as you attempted a divination. The magic
hounds will be on our tail in seconds! They can sniff out magic a
hundred miles away.” He quickly started to gather their supplies,
throwing them haphazardly into his bag, all the while glaring in
her direction.
“They’re just cards. I didn’t think—”
“That is your problem, Morrigan!” Tiarn
interrupted. “You never think! You let your powers do the thinking
for you! What could you possibly need to know so urgently that you
would risk our lives to see it?”
Morrigan felt herself blush, and she wasn’t
about to admit why she had started the reading. “None of your
business!” she spat at him. “I had no idea I was doing anything
wrong. You should have warned me about the . . . what did you call
them? Magic hounds? I don’t even know what they are.”
“I suppose you are right.” Tiarn shook his
head and sighed. He looked almost apologetic. “I am partially to
blame. I forgot your ignorance. Magic hounds are beasts attracted
to magic. Arianrhod sent them out to find you, but they would only
be able to pick up your scent if you used your magic.”
“I don’t think they sound so scary.” Morrigan
tried to sound brave, but even as she said it, in the distance she
heard howling, and only a second later a wail that seemed much
closer.
“You are about to find out just how scary
they can be,” Tiarn warned her. “Along with the army that will
undoubtedly follow.” He threw down the bag he had just loaded up
and pulled his sword from its sheath. “There is no time to run now.
We will have to stand and fight.”
Danu and Dagda had awoken as soon as they
heard the howls and had already morphed into their Guardian forms.
They stood on either side of her, growling and staring into the
forest as they waited for the hounds to arrive. Morrigan didn’t
have time to think of a defense. They were instantly surrounded by
a dozen armed guards and their vicious, snarling dogs.
All around the perimeter of the camp, there
were soldiers, each bearing the owl crest of Queen Arianrhod.
Several of them were practically being dragged along by the vicious
dogs that barked and foamed at the mouth in agitation. Tiarn didn’t
attempt to make jokes with their aggressors, like he had back at
Dunham’s cottage. He knew this time there wasn’t much hope that the
fight would end without fatalities.
As soon as the soldiers materialized, Tiarn
burst into action. He shoved Morrigan against the nearest tree and
shielded her with his own body while Danu and Dagda guarded her
sides. She was safe for the moment, but it didn’t seem to matter.
They were hopelessly outnumbered by twelve guards and four snarling
mongrel dogs that stood with their teeth barred and snapping in her
direction. They were desperate to be free of the chains that kept
them trapped by their masters’ sides and didn’t care if they choked
their breath away trying to escape. Each was covered in dirty and
matted fur, and they smelled of excrement even from a distance.
Almost as though they planned the
synchronization, all four dogs were released from their bonds at
just the same moment, and all four headed directly toward Morrigan.
Tiarn was already being driven away from her by a half dozen
soldiers, so it was the cats that sprang to her defense as the
large dogs bounded in her direction, ready to tear her to pieces
because of the scent of magic that still clung to her.
The hounds might have been good at sniffing
out magic, but they weren’t nearly as advanced at fighting it. They
didn’t stand a chance against Danu and Dagda, in the form of the
giant black panther and a powerful striped tiger. In seconds, the
cats had each caught a dog by the throat and another trapped under
their gigantic, powerful paws. They glanced at Morrigan, as if
waiting for her permission to proceed. She knew it was dangerous to
let them live, but she couldn’t stand the thought of the helpless
animals being hurt when they were only doing what they had been
trained to do.
“Let them go,” Morrigan ordered.
Even though they looked a little peeved, her
Guardians immediately followed her command. For a moment, she was
sure she had made the wrong decision because the dogs turned to her
once again with murder in their eyes. But it took only one last
hiss from the large cats and the whole pack let out a barrage of
yips and whines before turning and fleeing back into the woods with
their tails between their legs. Even the furious shouts of their
masters couldn’t bring them back to the battle.
“We don’t need them anymore,” one guard said
to the other.
“Right,” his gruff companion agreed. “They
led us here. We can take care of the rest.”
The cats immediately turned to assist Tiarn
who was greatly outnumbered though still holding his own as he
clashed swords with several of the armed guards. It was much easier
for them to evade his advances as they held up their owl stamped
shields. Tiarn had a single sword as his defense against a half
dozen assailants. Morrigan flinched every time she heard the harsh
clank of metal against metal, terrified one of those blows would
hit its intended target and send Tiarn’s head rolling to her feet.
Suddenly the world of Tír na NÓg seemed a lot less beautiful.
Morrigan clung to the relative safety of her tree, digging her
nails into the bark so hard she broke more than one fingernail. She
tried to call up her powers, but they were buried somewhere under
her fear.
Dagda had taken down one of the soldiers who
were attempting to sneak up on Tiarn from behind. Meanwhile Danu
was pulling another screaming man away from the battle scene by his
leg. Between the three of them, they had already dispatched more
than half of the guards and had done so with minimal bloodshed. A
few of the soldiers were bleeding from minor wounds and unable to
fight, but thankfully none were dead or damaged beyond repair.
Her little army had four of the remaining
guards locked in battle, but that still left two who were smart
enough to head for the real target while her companions were
otherwise engaged. The metal of their armor jangled as they inched
their way closer and closer to a helpless Morrigan. She probably
should have run, but the fear and panic that had plagued her during
both attacks left her paralyzed and helpless.
“She is a tasty little dish.” The younger of
the two guards looked her up and down appraisingly as he inched
closer. He opened his mouth in a smile that revealed teeth already
beginning to blacken, even though he couldn’t have been more than
twenty. “What do you say, Caedmon, should we have a little fun
before we bring her in?”
Morrigan felt her body tremble as they
approached, afraid of what they would do to her, knowing there were
fates far worse than death. She felt the slight tremors of their
footsteps shake the ground around her, and she knew that with every
step they were getting closer. She even felt and smelled the rancid
breath of the young soldier as he leaned in close and ran his slimy
tongue along her cheek.
“What say you, little princess? Would you
like to feel the groin of a real man instead of a mongrel
changeling?”
The second soldier, who must have been higher
in command, backhanded the boy so hard he almost fell to the
ground. “The soldiers under my command do not take women against
their will. Queen Arianrhod said we were not to cause the maiden
any harm. So keep both your swords sheathed and help me restrain
the girl.”
After one strong glare at his superior, the
young soldier recovered his composure and reached his arm out to
grab Morrigan. She felt tears begin to slide down her cheeks, but
he didn’t seem to care. He yanked her arm roughly and tried to pull
her toward him. He struggled to pull her free from the trunk of the
tree, but she only clung to it more desperately.
“Morrigan!”
The frantic sound of Tiarn’s voice finally
woke her from the panic that had gripped her. She glanced up just
in time to see Tiarn trying to break away from the three remaining
soldiers he was fighting in order to come to her aid. The
distraction had cost him, and the pointed blade of his opponent’s
sword finally made contact, slashing through his animal skin tunic
and into the flesh of his sword arm. Even from the distance,
Morrigan was able to see the blood begin to bubble from the open
wound. That was all Morrigan needed to finally overcome her
paralysis. The powers she had been unable to call up for her own
safety were suddenly forefront and overflowing, spurred forward by
the strength of her rage. Instantly the two guards who were
attempting to restrain her were swept up by the waves of that power
and thrown a good forty feet in either direction, landing
unconscious on the forest floor.
Morrigan was far from finished. There was no
holding back the torrents of power that had escaped their
captivity. Tiarn had been hurt because he had been distracted when
he wanted to save her. Now the tables were turned, and she would
have to save him. The lycan was about twenty paces away, still
struggling to hold his own against the onslaught of three soldiers,
despite his injured arm. He was getting tired and the other men
were not blind to his weakness. They were taunting and playing with
him more than actually fighting. Morrigan wondered why he didn’t
take on the form on his wolf self. His magical counterpart would
surely have the strength overcome the human soldiers.