by J. P. Rice
Mike said, “One last thing. I’m guessing you know why winter won’t leave Pittsburgh, correct?”
I responded nonchalantly, “I believe it might have to do with the Dagda’s Harp.” I knew damn well the powerful relic was causing the extended winter.
Mike agreed, “I thought the same thing. It doesn’t make sense for it to start now. As far as I know, the demons of the Red Cavern have had the harp for years.” He turned away and scratched his red neck. It seemed like he was leaving something out.
Since I felt he was holding back on me, I had to be careful how much I revealed to this kid. I measured my words before speaking. “I’ve heard that the demons didn’t know how to use it properly. They didn’t know that they had to play it on the earth’s surface, in the region that would be affected. I assume they’ve figured it out.”
Mike’s eyes widened, and a crazed look glazed over his sapphire blues. “I’m planning to crash the Red Cavern and steal it back.” He slapped the table for added effect, but his gloved hand didn’t make much sound.
Despite the dud of an exclamation point on his statement, the more I talked to him, the more I liked Mike Merlino. He was just as wild as I. “How? They keep their portals under wraps.”
“I know where the portal is located. It’s well guarded, just like the Red Cavern, but that’s never stopped me before,” he said, punctuating his words with a clever smirk.
I had to stick a pin in that one. I couldn’t reveal my experiences from the Red Cavern to Mike. I needed to stuff those experiences back down and forget about them right now. The pain was still fresh.
The bartender came over and blew into her mitten-covered hands. Her smoker’s breath tinted with a hint of vodka offended my nostrils and I turned away. Out of breath, she said, “Sorry it’s taking so long. New cook’s a freaking nightmare. Guy’s a real space cadet. But he basically works for booze, so you know how that goes. Todd better get his ass in gear though, cuz it’s my tips that will suffer.”
“You don’t say,” I uttered without thinking. It appeared I’d found Thor.
The bartender tilted her head. “What don’t I say?”
I’d hoped she hadn’t even heard me. I tried to play it off. “Just a stupid joke from a movie.”
“Oh, I love movies. What movie?” she asked, suddenly interested.
“I forget,” I told her, trying to end the conversation.
“Well who was in it? I’m pretty good with actors and actresses.”
“Just drop it, all right?” I snapped. The dark blood in me had no patience. I was working on that. “Sorry. I just can’t remember right now.”
“Okay.” She turned to walk away and mumbled under her breath, “No more Jameson for the crazy lady.”
I didn’t care, and ignored Mike’s dirty looks, as I analyzed the situation. The Norse God of Thunder had just dropped into my lap. I didn’t plan to talk to him today. But I knew where he worked now, and with him being stuffed away in the basement kitchen, he hadn’t seen me.
Chapter 4
MY DOORBELL RANG. As I walked out of the kitchen, the Morrigan materialized on my welcome mat just inside the front door. Her arms emerged from her raven feather cloak and she played with her wild hair, not having much effect.
She said, “I know I scare you when I just show up, so I figured I’d ring the bell this time.”
“Probably because I’m on edge all the time with all these jagoffs coming at me. Let’s go sit down in the kitchen.” I led her down the short hallway and into the kitchen.
She hooked the leg of the chair with her foot and pulled it out. As she was plopping into the seat, she asked, “What do you have to drink around here?”
Never the shy one, the Morrigan. “Why don’t you just tell me what you want?”
“You have any of those caffeine boosters?” she asked and one side of her mouth curled up.
She was talking about an energy drink. She didn’t need them, but she sure loved them. “I’ve got a Red Bull in the fridge.” I grabbed the silver can toward the back of the top shelf. I tossed it over to the Morrigan, who snatched it out of the air.
I warned, “Don’t...”
But before I could get out another word, she cracked it open and sprayed herself with the foamy liquid. Her neck jerked toward me, her face tightening in anger, and I put my hands up as if to say, I’m innocent. The intensity of her stare had killed men before. I turned around and ripped three paper towels off the roll.
I spun around, took two steps forward and handed them to the Morrigan. As she dabbed her raven feather cloak, it appeared to shed a few layers and clung closer to her body. Her signature outfit seemed to have a life of its own and react to her emotions. The warm confines of my house and her anger caused the cloak to shrink from a heavy winter garment to a long-sleeve dress that hung right above her knee. When it was time for action, her cloak formed into a tight body suit.
The Morrigan finally broke the silence, “Have you thought about what we talked about outside the Triskele Room?”
I tried to think of an excuse. If I were going to be a better person, spending an extended period with the Morrigan would make that nearly impossible. She wasn’t a bad immortal per se. She just operated under a different set of rules than the rest of us.
At the end of the day, she peddled in death. The inconvenient truth. She did the job that scared the wits out of everyone else. She and the other merchants kept the natural order. A necessary evil.
I couldn’t think of a good excuse, so I went with a classic. “I’ve got a lot of stuff going on right now. Especially with the vampires and werewolves. My hands are kind of full.” I knew it was weak sauce, but it was all I had on the spur of the moment.
She kicked her feet up on the table, her shiny leather boots running up her calf and disappearing into her cloak. She tugged on the red laces of her boots. “I could really use some help on this one. You know that no one else will work with me.”
“Gee. I wonder why.” I pointed to her dirty boots, muck and slushy snow dripping from the grooves of her soles. It shocked me that the snow hadn’t melted during her transfer. I went for the paper towels again. “What exactly is going on?”
The Morrigan chugged some Red Bull, belched loud enough for my neighbor to hear, and said, “The merchants aren’t sure yet. Someone is producing their own death cards and he or she is using them at will. Some of the reported stiffs still had active death cards. I had three that died, and someone else claimed their souls. An outsider.”
Her nostrils flared, her red pupils dilated and her expression hardened, bordering on venomous. My friend was pissed someone was infringing on her territory.
I leaned back against my counter. “Could one of the merchants be producing and selling them on the side?”
The Morrigan got up and stretched out her back. She moved her upper body from side to side as she spoke, “Very unlikely. Once we produce one of our cards, it can’t be replicated. Or so I’d thought. If one of the death merchants violates our pact, they know it’s instant death. For instance, it’s never even crossed my mind.”
That statement carried a great deal of weight. She was by far the most reckless person I knew. She enjoyed breaking the rules and hoping that the opposing party backed down. Normally, she was right.
I threw the paper towels over the Morrigan’s mess on the table and asked, “Could someone else have gotten greedy?”
The Morrigan stopped stretching and opened the refrigerator. “Sure, but not likely. Ereshkigal had two of her cards stolen, but that’s it. She’s the only one who has reported anything out of the ordinary. Nobody has tried to steal any from me.”
I thought about the bigger picture. “I might be a little obtuse, but what is the point of stealing them?”
The Morrigan opened the jar of kosher dill pickles without picking it up from the door of the fridge. She plucked a whole pickle out, closed the jar and shut the door. With pickle juice dripping on my kitchen floor, she t
ook a big bite and spoke over the crunching, “Someone gets to play a God and decide when someone dies and where his or her soul will go. Or they could sell the souls to someone. All I know is this asshole is messing with the natural order.”
I turned away and pretended to stare out the window. She looked gross talking with her mouth full of dull green bits. I also didn’t want to mention that she and the other merchants gambled over the cards, which I could only assume meant they were messing with the natural order. It was right on brand for the Gods not to practice what they preach. Even my friend, Mo, was guilty of the hypocrisy.
“What could they do with the souls?” I asked.
She crunched down on the pickle again and continued, “That is the part that we are freaking out about. We don’t know where they are taking the souls or what they plan to do with them. We need to find a pattern. Sometimes the other Gods will ask me to find a particular soul. A brilliant doctor for instance. Or is everything being done at random? I don’t like not knowing what’s going on.”
“Ha. Welcome to my world.” I turned back to her, and she was wiping pickle juice off her lips with her cloak. I said, “I never know what’s going on. I’ll keep my ears peeled, but like I said earlier, I’ve got a few other things on my plate right now.” I needed to keep planting that seed in case an emergency bailout became necessary.
“If I need you, can I call on you?” She held up the back of her hand and showed me the scar that had sealed our fate as blood sisters.
I stared at the matching scar on my hand, suddenly remembering how close we had been. I almost felt obligated to help her. No, I couldn’t go down that road again. “I can’t commit fully just yet.” Until I knew the full details of the Morrigan’s plan, I couldn’t agree to anything.
She pounded her fist into her open hand. “Come on. After all I’ve done for you. You’d be back in Sleepy Willow pining about your stupid husband if it weren’t for me. I gave you magic. You were nothing without me.”
So this bitch went straight for the jugular. Goddess or not, game on. “Yeah, I was nothing. You know what else? I wasn’t a monster. I know why you created me. To handle your destruction for your amusement. Don’t act like you’ve done anything for me. You made me this way so you didn’t feel so bad about your own malicious behavior. You don’t give two shits about me. Never did.”
The Morrigan’s face flushed and her icy eyes filled with anger as her red pupils widened. She tucked her arms inside her cloak and turned away. “All you had to do was say no. Not once did you do that. I took you from a whiny little girl to one of the baddest bitches ever known.” She faced me again, shaking her head slowly. “And this is how you repay me?”
I knew I shouldn’t have given her that Red Bull. She got too hyped up. I said, “Again. You didn’t do it for me. Stop even acting like that. You haven’t had to deal with any of the repercussions. I’m the one constantly being chased by the magic councils. I’m the one who fights against my dark blood every single day. Not you. Me. You don’t have to look constantly over your shoulder in worry.”
The Goddess shook her head, disappointment running through her eyes. “I can’t believe you’ve gone soft. It’s tragic really. And to top it off, you’re acting like a child. I’m the one. I’m the one. Blah, blah, blah. Remember when you were trapped in the Lair of Justice. I’m the one who got you out. Not you,” she said, mocking my voice. “Never would have thought you would turn on me.”
Why was she attacking me? “I’m not turning on you, but if you’re going to act like this, maybe it’s for the best. You go your way and I’ll go mine.”
“I have a feeling it will work out a lot better for me.” She started to laugh and cut herself off. I couldn’t believe she was trying to intimidate me.
“You know what? I don’t even care anymore.” I was done letting her manipulate me. “You’re just mad because I’m the only one who will stand up to you. Everyone one else lets you do whatever the fook you want. You’re the reason I snap at people and act like...like...like you. No wonder we butt heads.” I held my hands out at my sides. “You want to do away with me, then get on with it. I’m already fookin’ dead inside anyway.”
Her cheeks reddened, and her breathing deepened, the obsidian feathers of her cloak pulsing rhythmically. “Don’t tempt me. You should rethink the situation and commit to helping me out. Why don’t we leave it at that?”
The Morrigan cartwheeled over to my door. She ended up standing on my welcome mat, facing the other way and waved goodbye as her body dissipated. Showoff.
Within a few moments, her form dissolved into nothing, leaving no trace that she had been there other than the empty Red Bull can and pickle jar with her fingerprints on it. I lowered my head and realized she’d left a trail of sludge in her path.
How dare she attack me like that! I was basically Frankenstein’s monster to her. She’d targeted all the creatures I’d stolen magic from including the dragon. She’d egged me on the entire time. Now she wasn’t happy that the monster was rebelling. Boo fooking hoo.
I held my arm up and my fingers were quivering. Thoughts of the sandy beaches of Hilton Head rushed into my mind. I didn’t have to deal with any of this nonsense down there.
A buzzing sound filled my ears. I’d nearly forgotten about my roommate as Titania zoomed into the room. She spoke through her yawning, “Everything all right? I thought I heard something out here.”
She wasn’t exactly the best guard dog considering the Morrigan could have eaten me alive as Titania slept in the other room. I said, “Just fine. Hope I didn’t wake you. You can go back to sleep if you want.”
Before jumping to a rash decision, I decided it would be wise to seek counsel from my father. The former King of Ireland always had the right answers.
Chapter 5
LUCKILY, MY FATHER’S venomous family was out shopping so the butler led me right back to his quarters. My breathing slowed down from my trip over here. It seemed like I was being followed, but now in the comfort of my father’s protection, safety surrounded my heart.
The scent of Irish Spring brought a smile to my face as I entered the room. A swirl of blue and gold flames roared inside the giant fireplace, keeping the room nice and toasty. My father, seated on his throne-like recliner, used the hand crank to lower the footrest.
He groaned in pain as I walked across the stone floor, snow falling from my boots and pant legs. As I approached, he pushed the black and gold Steelers blanket aside and patted his knee. I took off my coat and set it on the end table at the step of his dais. My father welcomed me onto his lap.
I gave him a big hug and kissed him on the cheek. I lay my head on his chest and his long beard tickled my cheek. After my encounter with the Morrigan, I needed this.
He patted me gently on the back and said, “My little Goddess has come to see me. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
I sat up and looked into his burning blue eyes. “I just wanted to see you. I’m a little confused and could use some guidance as usual.”
He rubbed my upper arm to keep it warm, and he said, “You need little guidance from me, I’m afraid. The answers. They are within you. I only help you fish them out. Perfect example is Lugh’s Spear. I gave you one tiny clue to a giant puzzle that you put together yourself.”
“A lot of good it did me,” I commented.
He sucked in his bottom lip, causing his eyebrows to scrunch together. He tilted his head and said, “Punching your mother in the face may have tarnished the shine of your moment.”
“She deserved it.” I got up from my father’s lap and walked over to the fireplace. I peeked back and noticed a wide grin on my father’s proud face.
My father composed his guilty pleasure. And in a fatherly way, he took a deep breath and raised his voice, “I am not arguing that in the least. Somewhat surprised it hasn’t happened before.”
I picked up a quartered log, opened the metal screen and tossed it on the fire. I spoke over my shoulder, “T
hat makes two of us. I can’t seem to control myself sometimes.”
My father turned shyly and scratched his red ear. “Yes, I’m afraid that comes from me. It’s hard to tell now that I was a hothead in my younger day. You know, when I was spry like you are now. But it appears I’ve passed that trait along to you.”
My father knew about how I’d obtained my magic and that I had dark magic running through me. He was one of the few who hadn’t chastised me about my method. “Something else has come up. But it involves working with the Morrigan.”
King Nuada chuckled and his golden circlet crown shifted on his head. It was the first time I’d ever seen the giant sapphire on his forehead move. The crown no longer appeared as though it were floating above his head like a halo.
Nodding, he said, “I can see the issue there. Causing death and destruction are antithesis to what you are trying to achieve, but that is a fundamental tenet of the Morrigan’s existence. Without death, she is nothing. Causing death is merely job security to her.”
I threw two more logs on the fire and grabbed the poker. “I guess we all view the world with different lenses.”
My father shifted around in his recliner. “Precisely. What would be out of focus and blurry beyond recognition to you would come through nice and clear to her.”
“So what should I do?” I asked as I rearranged the orange coals and lined up the logs.
He chuckled. “You’re smart enough to realize now that I’ve never given you answers. I’ve always turned the questions around on you and through a bit of introspection, you provide the answers. You’ve given me far too much credit over the years.”
I shut the screen, walked back over to my father and sat on his lap again. I smiled. “So you’re going to ask what I think I should do?”
