Authors: Laura DeLuca
He gave her a halfhearted smile that hardly
touched his eyes. “You make jests, but you have no idea what
horrors you have yet to face. Morrigan, I fear for you.” He pulled
her into his arms and squeezed her so tightly she had difficulty
breathing. “I fear not for your life, as much as for your sweet and
gentle soul. You shine with such goodness, such untouched
innocence. I would die before I would see that light in you
extinguished.”
“What’s this morbid talk all about? Tomorrow
we’ll be at the castle. We’ll free my mother and we’ll all live
happily ever after, right? Isn’t that how all the fairytales are
supposed to end?”
“You think your journey is ending, when
really it is has just begun.” He released his grip on her and tied
their equipment to the back of the horse as best he could without a
saddle. It took forever for him to speak again, and when he finally
did, his eyes were downcast. “We shall reach the castle on the
morrow, and you shall at last greet your mother. But I fear she is
not all you imagine. She may not be as perfect as you would like
her to be.”
Something in his voice made her nervous. It
wasn’t just the doom and gloom. She had the distinct feeling he
knew more than he was telling her. She watched him with a wary eye
as he jumped up onto the back of the horse, but tried to keep the
conversation light.
“She’s my mother. I’m a teenager,” Morrigan
replied with a careless waive of her hand. “I’m sure I’ll find lots
of reasons to hate her.” She started to laugh, but the serious look
on Tiarn’s face stopped her. “Seriously, Tiarn. No one is perfect.
I’m sure she’s not an angel, but at least she’s the good guy,
right?”
Tiarn sighed and reached down to help her
mount. “As Alden said, there are some things you must discover on
your own. For now, I do not wish to argue or speak of the future.
This may well be our last night together. I want to remember your
sweet smile and the joy of being in your arms.”
They left it at that and rode away from the
stream. Though Morrigan had many unspoken questions, she agreed
there would be plenty of time to address them later. This night,
she wanted to enjoy their time alone.
Tiarn was nervous that Willow would return or
that the soldiers might be following, so he wanted to travel as far
as possible before the sun set. They kept the pace at a slow gallop
so the cats would be able to keep up without exhausting themselves.
They continued on that way until nightfall made it too difficult to
weave the horse through the unkempt paths of the forest.
When at last they stopped to rest for the
evening, she spent a little time sketching while Tiarn built a
fire. She was trying to draw the faery, but for the first time, she
had trouble capturing the beauty of her subject. Afterward, they
nibbled on the last of the chips and beef jerky Morrigan had stored
in her backpack. They made their bed under the blanket of the stars
for the final time. The animal skins felt warmer and safer with
Tiarn beside her. Even though her body was achy and stiff from a
long day of horseback riding, she never felt happier or more at
home. They lay on their backs for a while, and he pointed out
constellations in the clear night sky. The stars were so bright;
she didn’t even have to strain her eyes to make out the shapes he
described.
“You see, there is the Horned King, and there
off to the left is the cross of the Goddess Brigid. And right
there, just above us, is my favorite. It is the Wolf and Maiden
constellation. See how she rides astride him?”
“Oh, I see it,” Morrigan exclaimed. “It’s so
beautiful! I can even see his fangs!”
“There is, of course, a legend behind those
stars.”
“And of course, you’re going to share that
story with me.”
He gave her a toothy grin. “Only if you wish
it, Your Majesty.”
She nudged him with her elbow. “You know I
wish it. Come on, let’s hear it!”
“Very well.” He cleared his throat before
lapsing into his best narrative voice. “In the beginning of time,
there were two beautiful sister witches, one good and one evil. The
good witch had hair the color of honey and the dark witch had the
mahogany tresses of the raven. As the story goes, a young man came
upon the fair-haired sister and instantly fell in love with her.
The evil witch grew jealous when she saw her sister’s happiness.
She tried to sway the man’s affections, but he stayed true to his
love. So she cast a spell upon the man which changed him into a
wolf. Yet, even that did not sway his loyalty. He sought out his
maiden and remained her loyal companion. He watched her weep for
her lost lover, thinking he had deserted her, but because he could
not speak, she had no idea the animal that consoled her was the
very man for whom she wept.
“The evil sister was furious her spell did
not keep the lovers apart, so she sent a giant to kill her sister.
The wolf intervened. He saved his witch, but was mortally wounded.
As he lay dying, at last the spell was broken and he took on his
mortal form. The good witch realized it was her love who had
watched over her all those years, but it was too late for them to
find happiness. The Goddess saw what had transpired and took pity
on them. Before the man took his final breath, she lifted them both
into the heavens, where at last they would have eternal
happiness.”
“How beautiful . . . and depressing.”
Morrigan laughed a little as she stared up at the constellation.
“Let’s hope our luck is a little better. I want to live our lives
out here before we’re immortalized in the stars.”
“Dearest Morrigan,” he said and squeezed her
hand. “There are punishments far worse than death. I have told you
my darkest deed, and you have forgiven me. Yet, I wonder if you
will always show me such mercy for my sins.”
“Tiarn,” she whispered. “There is nothing you
can do that will make me stop loving you. I don’t think I could
even if I wanted to.”
He sighed and wrapped his arms around her. “I
pray that will still be true tomorrow.”
It had been a long and exhausting day, and it
didn’t take them long for them to fall asleep. Even Morrigan,
despite her jitters over the thought of finally meeting her mother,
found herself quickly immersed in pleasant dreams of love. In the
morning, Tiarn produced a few eggs he had stolen away from some
very unhappy bird, and they enjoyed them with their bottled water,
though they used it sparingly. Morrigan rubbed the crust from her
eyes and wished she had a pot of coffee to help her get
started.
It didn’t take them long to pack up the
campsite for the day. It was starting to become something of a
routine. Before long, they were back on the horse enjoying another
arborous trek on bareback. They rode straight through until well
past midday, but at a much more leisurely pace since no one pursued
them. Still, it was a long, hard road, and Morrigan was sure her
legs were going to fall off when they finally slowed to a halt.
Tiarn helped her down for the last time and then smacked the
horse’s rump. The filly immediately took off at a gallop and
disappeared into the brush in a matter of seconds.
“What did you do that for?” Morrigan asked,
confused.
“We no longer require her services, so I have
sent her home. I am certain she will remember the way we came, and
if not, may she enjoy her new found freedom.”
“But I thought you wanted to ride the rest of
the way to the castle to save time.”
He smiled. “So I did and so we have.”
He took her hand and led her through a few
high bushes, and she saw that the forest came to an abrupt halt. On
the other side of the woods was a road, which led to a small
village. Just beyond the town stood the awesome castle that housed
the rival queens of Tír na NÓg.
The castle was every bit as majestic as she
had imagined it would be, and in some ways, it was even grander. It
was strategically placed on a large hill, and inside the castle
walls she could see the landscape was dotted with trees and
well-groomed gardens. There were large dwellings all around its
perimeter, but even those grand structures seemed dwarfed in
comparison to the massive fortress.
It was fashioned from the mortar and pestle
that was typical of castles from medieval Europe, but in spots
there was a sprinkling of green vines and ivy that gave it a more
welcoming feeling. The immense structure was surrounded by a moat
filled with water of the deepest blue. A drawbridge, which was not
open for crossing at the moment, seemed the only way to gain entry.
Most of the castle was only two or three stories, but there were
several higher towers which had banners waving softly in the
breeze. Each bore the insignia of the owl, the coat of arms of
Queen Arianrhod.
“Enchanting, is it not? It is called Caistel
Bandraoi, which is Gaelic for the Castle of the Witch. It is the
most beautiful structure in all of Tír na NÓg and has housed the
royal family for the better part of five centuries.”
Morrigan nodded, but hardly heard him speak.
The impressive stronghold was awe inspiring in its beauty, but
terrifying in its significance. This was it. This was the climax of
her story. Morrigan was going to meet her mother, and together they
would bring about a new era of peace to the land. Either that or
they would die at the hands of her Aunt Arianrhod. She had no
choice but to think about it and it left her frozen with terror. At
her feet, Danu and Dagda curled around her ankles, as if they
sensed her anxiety, but even their affectionate purrs could not
quell the icy hand of fear that gripped her heart.
“Are you ready, Princess?” Tiarn asked with a
teasing glint in his eye. “Now is the time when things are going to
get exciting.”
Morrigan swallowed hard. “How exciting?”
“I am sure the bards will sing of your deeds
for generations to come.”
“Well, I’m all for good deeds and
songwriting, just so long as we come out alive on the other
end.”
Tiarn laughed. “Is the mighty Morrigan,
namesake of the raven goddess of war, finally beset with a case of
the jitters? I had thought you invincible!”
“Please don’t tease me, Tiarn. This is
terrifying.” A part of her wanted to cry, but she wouldn’t let
herself. “This whole thing is just so . . . I mean it’s . . . how
am I supposed to do this? I’m just some silly little teenager from
Maryland. How am I supposed to make all the right decisions and do
all the right things when I feel so completely overwhelmed?”
Tiarn softened his voice. “My poor Morrigan.
I should not make jests. The battle you face is deadly serious, and
you are wise to be fearful. Only a fool runs into battle without
fear. I cannot give you all the answers, but I have faith in you.
The power of your heart far outweighs any magical abilities you
possess. Just follow your heart. It shall lead you in the right
direction.”
Morrigan nodded and gave him a hug. He was
definitely getting better at the pep talks. “You’re right.” She
took a deep breath. “I can do this. I’ll be okay. Just tell me
where to start.”
“To start, we must make it through the
village undetected. Once that goal is accomplished, we will head
toward the dungeon where your mother and grandmother are being
kept.”
Tiarn proceeded to lay out a carefully
constructed scheme to get them into the castle alive and
undetected. It was a simple plan that sounded like it would be
fairly easy to execute. When Morrigan tried to compliment him he
reluctantly admitted he couldn’t take credit for the idea. It was
Hecate who had mapped out their entrance plan, giving him bits and
pieces of information whenever she was able to reach him through
her elemental portal. She had lived in the castle for longer than
most people remembered and definitely longer than most of the
current occupants had been alive. No one knew the layout of the
fortress or the surrounding area better than Hecate.
“However, once we reach the prison chambers,
there is no way to predict what we will encounter,” Tiarn went on
to explain. “There will be guards and possibly protection spells
that may render your magic useless. But I promise you this,
Princess; I will remain at your side every second until I know you
are safe. No sword, no spell, no witch’s brew shall touch you
unless I have already taken my last breath.”
With that heroic vow, Morrigan could hold
back her tears no longer. Nor could she restrain her passion. She
pulled her gallant werewolf into her arms and pressed her lips
against his with a fury that bordered on desperation. She was
filled with so many conflicting emotions, she felt like she was
drowning, and only Tiarn could be her life preserver. Her tongue
explored his mouth, while her hands pressed him close against her
breast. She longed to feel his hands slide beneath the safety of
her gown. She was certain she would take him on the spot if only he
would allow it. He panted with barely contained desire as he gently
pushed her away.
“Our time will come,” he promised. “But now
is not that time.”
She nodded. She knew he was right. She hated
the fact she had to deny herself almost as much as she hated the
fact everyone in the kingdom seemed to know she was a virgin. She
took a deep breath and tried to calm her hormonal urges so she
could concentrate on their plan.
“What now?” she asked him. “Do we leave?”
“We shall start with this.” Tiarn grinned.
“Become my wife once more, ripe with my child, and allow me to
dream for a moment the deception is true.”
She blushed. “Maybe someday it will be
true.”
She couldn’t believe she had actually said
that out loud. For the first time since they met, Tiarn’s cheeks
actually colored a little too. “That is my one and only desire. But
first, I must see you safely to your family. Once the danger has
past, I will officially ask for your hand, as custom decrees.
Though I doubt your mother and grandmother will happily welcome
both lycan and commoner into the royal line.”