Authors: Laura DeLuca
“It has been a long and treacherous road for
you, my dear. Rest now. We can speak more when you awake.” Morrigan
nodded and laid her head down on a soft feather pillow. Ceridwyn
massaged her temples. Her eyelids were so heavy she could barely
keep them open. “Sleep, Morrigan, sleep. I am sure things will seem
much more pleasant when you awake.”
Morrigan listened to Ceridwyn’s soothing
voice and the relaxing crackle of the fire. Before she knew what
had happened, she had fallen into a deep slumber filled with dreams
of golden fields. In the dream, she was having a picnic with her
mother and grandmother. They were all happy and laughing, enjoying
the beauty of a perfect cloudless afternoon. But they weren’t
alone. The soldier, Caedmon, was with them. He was laughing at
first, enjoying a drink from a flask of wine. Then Hecate picked up
a knife from the blanket. Without a second thought, she raised the
blade and slit his throat. Caedmon gasped and choked as blood
soaked through the blanket and into the ground, drenching the
hemline of Morrigan’s white gown. Even as he lay dying before them,
Ceridwyn and Hecate continued to clink glasses and eat from plates
splattered with blood. Morrigan tried to open her mouth to scream,
but no sound would come out. Beside her, Ceridwyn and Hecate kept
laughing and laughing, and then—
Morrigan awoke with a gasp. Her pillow was
drenched with sweat and a scream was stuck inside her throat. The
dream had left her with a dark feeling of dread and foreshadowing.
Even as she attempted to catch her breath, her eyes scanned the
room warily. Her mother was gone, but Danu and Dagda had somehow
managed to find their way to her side. They snuggled and purred
like typical contented housecats. No one would guess by their calm
demeanor the powerful beasts that lay within them. Morrigan
shuddered and wondered what other secrets were hidden within the
seemingly quiet castle walls.
After the terrifying dream and the horrible
memories of the great hall, Morrigan was relieved to have her pets
snuggled up beside her. She pulled them close, basking in their
simple familiarity in so foreign a world. Dagda nudged her hand
with his head, while Danu curled into a ball in her lap. As
wonderful as it was, she knew she couldn’t hide in her room
forever. She waited for her heartbeat to slow down and decided to
go in search of her mother. She had so many questions, and now that
she felt rested and her head was clear, she needed to get
answers.
Morrigan pushed herself up out of the bed.
She saw there was a plate of fancy cakes and tea waiting on a tray
on top of the dresser. She shoved a few morsels into her mouth and
slipped her feet into a pair of jeweled slippers she found on the
floor. They matched her gown perfectly, but she was too preoccupied
to admire their beauty. After guzzling a whole glass of lukewarm
tea, she went out into the hallway and was greeted by a pair of
young servant girls who instantly fell to their knees when they saw
her.
“Princess Morrigan!” the elder of the two
exclaimed, while the younger girl seemed struck dumb. “How may we
serve you?”
“Please don’t do that,” Morrigan told them.
She didn’t think she would ever be comfortable with people bowing.
In her mind, she was still a foster child, not a princess. “You can
stand up. Really. I’m not all that important.” They exchanged
nervous glances. After a minute, they stood, but still refused to
look her in the eye. They seemed absolutely terrified. Morrigan
sighed. “Can you just tell me where my moth . . . where Queen
Ceridwyn is?”
“Her rooms are down the hall to the left,
Your Majesty. I believe she is in conference with the Queen
Mother.”
“Thank you.” They still didn’t move out of
her way. “Umm, that’s all for now. You can go back to whatever you
were doing or maybe take a lunch break or something.”
They looked confused, but finally stepped
aside. She left them in the hall, still staring at the floor. As
she explored the large hallway, with the cats following close
behind, she admired the paintings on the wall. They were all
portraits of dazzlingly beautifully women that she could only
assume were the royalty and nobility of past generations. She
peeked into many empty rooms, all of which were beautifully
furnished and immaculately clean. Eventually she came to a room
with double doors that were sealed tight. She knew she had the
right room because she could hear voices arguing through the thick
wood.
“You allowed her to speak with Alden? You are
a fool as well as a mongrel. He could have ruined everything!”
Morrigan flinched at the harsh raspy voice of
Hecate, but she continued to listen, even going so far as to put
her ear to door so she could hear better. She knew it was wrong to
eavesdrop, but she couldn’t help it. Tiarn and her grandmother were
obviously talking about her.
“Yet, he did not ruin everything, so I fail
to see the problem,” Tiarn argued. She couldn’t see him, but she
could hear his teeth grinding. “It is more likely you gave away
your own secret, Hecate, when you killed that soldier in cold blood
right in front of the poor girl.”
“Silence!” Ceridwyn ordered with all the
authority of the reigning queen. “I should have you both whipped!
You, you rabid dog! Spare me your false pity. If the girl did not
expect you to be here when she awakes, I would have killed you
already. And you, Mother! What were you thinking? You will ruin
almost two decades of well-laid plans if you turn the girl against
us before the ritual is complete. She is more powerful than we
anticipated. We cannot risk losing her favor now, when we are so
close to accomplishing our goal.”
“You dare to speak to me in such a manner, to
question my judgment? You are an ungrateful child! Without my
support, you would never have obtained the crown! It is I who
passed down the dark arts to you. It was I who chose you to take my
place! You would be nothing without me!”
If her mother replied, it was too faint for
Morrigan to hear, and she had stopped listening anyway. She
shuddered in horror and took a few steps away from the door. From
the beginning of their journey, there had been hints. Tiarn had
been surprised when she treated him with respect instead of
cruelty. Hecate had so easily taken the life of that soldier.
Morrigan recalled Brigid’s disgust when she had discovered her
identity. Even the maids were terrified—it was all beginning to
make sense to her now.
“You shall have only yourselves to blame if
your plans come to an end,” Tiarn’s voice erupted. “I have
regretfully done my part by bringing the girl to you. Since you no
longer require my services, I shall take my leave, Your
Majesties.”
Tiarn threw open the doors, and Morrigan was
suddenly facing the three deceivers–the only three people she had
ever believed in and trusted. Her heart overflowed with grief and
despair. She ignored Tiarn as he reached out a hand, looking almost
as lost and devastated as she felt. She was no longer going to fall
prey to those lying eyes, no matter how pathetically they beseeched
her. Instead she turned to her mother—the woman who had given her
life and then ripped that life to pieces. She wished she could have
sounded strong and fierce in her accusation, but instead her voice
emerged a weak whimper. She clung to the wall for support.
“You . . . you,” Morrigan stuttered. “You are
the dark witch.”
“Morrigan!” Ceridwyn exclaimed. She seemed
shocked to see her there. “Please, darling, you do not understand.
You must allow me to explain!”
“Explain what?” Morrigan demanded. Almost
instantly, the overwhelming grief was replaced by an even more
uncontrollable fury. Morrigan had to fight to keep her powers in
check and not send all three of them flying. “Explain how you lied?
How you tricked me into coming here? How you made me believe
Arianrhod was the evil one when it was really you all along?
Goddess, what have I done?”
Ceridwyn sighed with what appeared to be
regret, but if it was, it was regret at being discovered, not at
having done something wrong. Hecate remained quiet. She made no
attempt to defend herself or their cause. She sat in a chair by the
fire, casually stroking her beast of a hound dog, but she watched
every move they made with her hollow eyes narrowed into angry
slits. Tiarn was the only one who showed any real emotion, and he
just seemed openly horrified. Ceridwyn didn’t speak again for
several moments. Morrigan could see she was considering her words
carefully.
“Oh, Morrigan.” Ceridwyn sighed. “Things are
not as simple as you believe them to be. Life is not all
black-and-white, good and evil. I admit I have not always made the
best choices. Some may know me as the Dark Queen, but that does not
make me evil. Even a queen is entitled to make mistakes on
occasion.”
As she spoke, Ceridwyn inched closer to
Morrigan. Her long gowns rustled as she glided across the
embroidered carpet. Before she could pull away, her mother had
grabbed hold of her hand. Instantly Morrigan began to feel drowsy
and weak. The room was spinning, and her head felt heavy. This time
she realized what was happening before things got too far. She
pulled her hand away, enraged. Her mother was trying to control her
with magic, but her renewed strength and her anger easily broke the
other witch’s spell.
“What do you think you’re doing to me?” she
demanded, still feeling a little dizzy. Beside her, Danu and Dagda
sensed her sudden defensiveness, and the hair on their backs stood
on end.
“I only wished to give you some comfort,”
Ceridwyn replied sadly, but at the same time she gave the cats a
nervous glance.
“Another lie!” Morrigan spat. “You’re trying
to use your powers to trick me into feeling safe! Just like you did
back in the great hall! But it won’t work this time, Mother.” She
was amazed at the bitter sarcasm of her own voice. “I won’t be
fooled by you again! I won’t be a mindless pawn in whatever game
you’re playing with Arianrhod. I’m done with all of this, and I’m
done with you!”
There was no way to explain away what she had
learned. Her mother and grandmother were monsters. Yet, in her
heart, Morrigan knew she was just as guilty as they were. She had
helped them dethrone the rightful queen. She had a hand in putting
a tyrant at the helm of the kingdom. She would be just as much to
blame if the world of Tír na NÓg fell apart, if the land were
plunged into war, if innocent lives were lost. That realization
horrified her. Morrigan gave her mother one last glare and then
turned on her heel and stomped away.
“Go after her, you fool canine!” Ceridwyn
ordered. “Perhaps you can make her see sense. For some reason
unbeknownst to me, she listens to you.”
Morrigan huffed and walked a little faster
when she heard the sound of Tiarn’s footsteps sneaking up behind
her. Even before he touched her, she smelled the earthy, natural
scent she had come to love. She hated herself for the intense
emotions it evoked in her.
“Please, Morrigan, wait,” Tiarn called. “You
do not understand.”
“Go away, Tiarn! Like you said, you don’t owe
them anything anymore. You fulfilled your debt. You don’t have to
do what they say. So stop pretending like you give a crap.”
“It is not for Ceridwyn or Hecate, but for
your sake that I wish to explain my part in all this. If it is
possible, I want to save this wondrous thing that has sprung
between us, before it is too late.”
Infuriated, Morrigan came to a complete stop,
so suddenly that Tiarn slammed into her back. Her powers were
starting to bubble to the surface, and some of the paintings in the
hall trembled on their hinges. Danu and Dagda seemed almost happy
to see the tension between them and hissed threateningly in his
direction. The same two maids were loitering in the hallway, but
had the good sense to back up when they saw Morrigan’s eyes
flashing.
“There is no us!” Morrigan told him. “That
was just one of the lies you used to trick me into coming
here!”
“No!” He cursed under his breath. “It may
have begun as you say, but as soon as I knew you, as soon as I
realized you were not like them, everything changed. You must
believe me, Princess! My feelings for you are no lie. Goddess help
me, I love you beyond all reason!”
Morrigan fought back angry tears. She wasn’t
going to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much his
words tore her heart apart. “If that’s true, then why didn’t you
tell me everything as soon as you realized you cared about me? How
could you bring me here and let me help them? You had to know what
it would do to me when I learned the truth! Or did you just think I
was such an idiot that I would never figure it out?”
“Oh, Morrigan, if only that had been
possible!” Tiarn looked as though he wanted to weep as well. “If
Hecate did not hold such power over me . . . .” He paused. “I wish
there was a way I could make you understand why I behaved as I
did.”
“Oh, I understand it all right.” Morrigan
said bitterly. “Your precious freedom was all that you cared about!
I was just collateral damage.”
“No, Morrigan! Never! Hecate—”
“Oh, just shut up, Tiarn!” Morrigan
interrupted. “I’ve heard enough. You made your own choices. You
can’t blame everything on Hecate, no matter how horrible she might
be!”
“But Morrigan . . . .”
“No! I said SHUT UP!”
Morrigan exploded and with that eruption of
emotion, the castle walls shook. Paintings fell. The ground
trembled beneath their feet. The terrified maids backed into a
corner, their hands pressed against their mouths to stifle their
screams, probably worried their cries might turn her fury onto
them. Morrigan realized she was losing control, and she had
promised herself she would never let that happen again. She took a
deep breath and tried to calm her nerves before she continued.