by Renée Jaggér
I almost hit him! I thought with alarm as the man scrambled to the other side of the road. I watched as he ran to a lorry and opened the driver’s side door. He looked like he was fleeing from me.
Safe to say, I wasn’t thinking about the wolf anymore. Twice I had been a bother to other drivers by not being able to focus. I came here to relax and stay out of the way, I told myself. Not get side-tracked by a wolf only I can see.
I parked, stepped out of my car, and ran toward the lorry. The man in the driver’s seat started it, and the rumble of the engine followed. I waved at the window, hoping to catch his attention. He frowned and rolled down his window as I approached. “I’m so sorry!” I called. “I-I was distracted, but that’s not an excuse. Are you quite all right?” He opened the door, and as soon as he saw me fully, his frown vanished, and his shoulders relaxed.
“Aw, I’m all right, Miss. Thank you very much for askin’.”
I laughed to ease my nerves. Every one of them was fried. “Well, of course. I almost hit you with my car!”
The man was staring at me with his lips parted, eyes wide as if he didn’t remember what had just happened. “Well, I...” He scratched his head. “I didn’t get hit, did I?”
I managed to keep the confusion off my face. “You did not, thankfully. I’m sorry all the same.”
“Don’t worry about it, Miss! I’ve near been hit plenty times.” He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t have been bothered if you had!”
I looked at him in surprise. I laughed it off as an uneasy feeling curled within me. The man’s cheeks flushed. “You must be quite busy, and I about ended your day—”
“No harm done, Miss, and I ain’t real busy...” His voice trailed off as he continued to stare at me.
I laughed once more. “Well, I’ll go now. I am sorry, truly.”
The man just grinned, and with a start, drove away. I watched him until he disappeared around the bend. What on earth just happened? Even when I got out by myself, strange things seemed to follow me. I sighed before crossing the street and entering the pound store I had spied earlier.
A tiny bell rang as I opened the door, but few eyes turned in my direction. Thank God.
I headed toward the back, passing other customers, and found the small but sufficient coffee section. Once I had made my selection, I stood in line. A woman who looked like she was in her early forties glanced behind her, and seeing me, started. “I’m sorry.” A smile parted her lips. “I didn’t realize you were behind me and had so little. Please, get in line in front of me!”
I balked. “E-excuse me?” I tried to figure out if I recognized the woman, but I remembered that Gran was the only one in the area I had ever met. The woman’s smile was encouraging.
“I’ve bought so much more, and you only have one thing, so please excuse my rudeness and step in front.”
“Oh, no, that’s quite all right. I can wait,” I objected. I wanted to give the whole trip up just now.
The woman laughed and ushered me forward. “I insist.”
What the hell is happening? I couldn’t keep myself from looking around to see how the other customers had reacted. No one else was paying either of us any attention. I heard the cashier clear his throat and realized I was next to pay. I stepped up to the counter and slid the bag of coffee toward him.
He was tall and wore a pressed apron. His dark hair was combed back, and his mustache was neatly trimmed. I began to dig in my bag for money, but the man objected. “Oh, no, Miss, you don’t have to do that.”
I glanced up. His brown eyes were shining and he wore a broad smile. “W-what?” I stuttered.
His smile grew wider. “It’s on me today. No need to pay!” His tone was the most cheerful one I had ever heard.
“No, no, please, I want to pay,” I replied. Desperation rose within me. I had never been shown so much kind attention in my life. I wasn’t sure I liked it. No, I strongly disliked it. Anyway, I didn’t deserve free coffee after nearly killing the lorry man.
The cashier’s face had turned red. “Please, Miss, let it be on me.”
“No.” I spoke firmly as I placed my money on the counter. “I’m paying, or I’m leaving.”
The man grew flustered. His face flushed, and his hands shook. “A-all right, Miss, one second.” He rang me up with the urgency with which I would have answered a call at work. He inserted my money into the drawer and dropped the change into my hand.
“Thank you.” I tried to smile, but my irritation had grown.
“An-anytime!” he stuttered.
I need to get out of here, I told myself. As I turned to leave, I caught a glimpse of the woman behind me. She was still smiling. She lifted her hand and gave me a little wave. I got the hell out of there.
Once I’d escaped, I did my best not to make eye contact with anyone and found my car. “One last thing,” I told myself as I made my way to a petrol station. I always filled up, no matter how little I needed, before I went into the countryside. I was beginning to feel like this trip to a quaint hamlet in the north of England was more of a task than a pleasant getaway. I rolled into the station, selected a pump, and got out. As I was placing the hose in the tank and awaiting the attendant, another car rolled up and screeched to a halt at the next pump.
I spared him a glance and instantly turned away. My blood began to boil. “No!” I hissed. It was the large man in the red car who had been behind me when I saw the wolf and had swerved around me. Hurry up, I thought as I glanced at the attendant. A second later, I was able to pump fuel into my car.
The man huffed out of his car, still in an irritable mood. He messed with the hose for a moment before saying, “It doesn’t work! Can I get any help around here?”
I rolled my eyes. I wanted to leave if only to avoid making uncomfortable eye contact with him and being recognized. Desperation reared its head within me.
“Young lady! Hello! Is it working for you?”
Fuck. Too late. I released a deep sigh. Slowly, I turned to him and plastered a smile onto my face. “Yes, sir, it's working just fine for me.”
Now please leave me the hell alone.
The large man, however, sauntered toward me, and his narrowed eyes pinned me. Recognition crossed his countenance. “You—” he began, wagging a finger at me.
My heart sank. I have more than enough fuel, I decided, even though the car was not yet full.
Then strangely, he seemed to lose track of what he was going to say and scratched his head. “You...uh...have you paid yet?”
I balked for the second time since arriving in town. I did not even try to conceal my surprise. “Uh, n-no,” I stammered out. “I haven’t.”
The man's smile grew nervous. He looked like a smitten teenage boy in a middle-aged man’s body. “I’d like to pay if you don’t mind.”
I fixed him with a cold stare. I was done with smiles. “No need.”
“Well, I insist.” He shoved his hands into his dress-pant pockets and rocked back on his heels, then flashed me a yellow-toothed smile.
“Well, I insist on paying for it myself.” I replaced the hose and reentered my car as fast as I could. The man began to object, but I closed the door and drove up to the attendant. To my surprise, I wanted nothing more than to be back at Gran’s cottage.
Then, like a bolt of lightning, it hit me. The Way of Kings. That was why everyone was acting so strange toward me. An unsettled feeling found its way into my stomach. Gran had warned me about this, but I hadn’t listened to her. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it at all. Never had so much attention been directed at me by so many strangers in such a short period of time.
After paying, I began to drive off, but the ding of my phone distracted me for a moment.
Angelica, this is Simon. I’ve been trying to reach you, but I suppose service is terrible where you are. We need you back as soon as you can get here. It's gotten worse, and we need all hands on deck. Hope to see you soon.
My heart
sank. First you force me to take a break, now you tell me I can’t have all of it. I’ve only been here for three days. I groaned, but realizing that Simon would only ask me to cut my leave short if it were absolutely necessary, my feelings changed, and I replied.
I’ll be back by tomorrow.
At the cottage, Gran was keeping busy in her garden. The outdoor space seemed pale and diluted now. The sun didn’t shine as brightly through the leaves of the cherry tree. Weeds had sprung up in every corner. Gran, however, didn’t seem bothered by any of it.
I stepped quietly into the garden.
“Hello, dear,” she greeted me with a cheerful smile. “How was your time away?”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Rough, Gran.”
Gran seemed to know what I meant. She emitted a low chuckle. “People were falling all over you?”
I scoffed. “That’s one way to put it.” I explained the series of events from the man I’d pissed off on the road who’d later insisted on paying for my fuel to the lorry driver I had almost run over and the over-generous people in the pound store. I sank onto a bench. “Can it be suppressed? Do you know any spells or—”
Gran laughed. “The Morrigan doesn’t need spells, but no, dear, I’m afraid it cannot be suppressed. In time, you will grow used to it and learn to use it for good. The more people are around you, the less infatuated they’ll be. They’ll be like close, loyal friends. At least, they’ll think you are close friends.”
I frowned. I didn’t know what to think right now, but it didn’t matter much. “I’m afraid I have to return to work, Gran. I have to leave tonight. The hospital is overrun.”
Gran’s eyes widened, and she nodded. “Of course, dear. If you need to go back, then you must do so.”
My brows rose. Gran is letting me go without an argument? We had so much left to talk about. “I know we still have a lot to talk about, but I’ll have to come back. Thank you for everything, Gran.”
Gran gave me a reassuring smile. “It is I who should be thanking you and apologizing for unloading your destiny upon you the very first day you were here.”
She was right, but the power I had was real, and I was far from ready to handle it on my own. “When can I come again?”
Gran’s eyes lit up. “Whenever you feel led to come back to me. Allow the Way of Kings to guide you. Eventually, you’ll find where you need to go. I understand that you might feel lost about all this.”
“I’m a tadpole in the ocean,” I answered in a dry tone. “I don’t even know where to begin. I was hoping we’d have more time, especially after this afternoon. It’s strange to find I don’t like being fawned over! I need your guidance.”
Gran nodded and shuffled into her cottage. Perplexed, I followed. In the den, Gran searched through the wooden chest she had produced photographs out of earlier. She pulled a stack of folded pieces of parchment from the bottom. They were yellowed and crinkled. This time, I wanted to see what she was going to show me.
“After the first Morrigan gave in to the Sundering—that is, split her power between three others who together became the second Morrigan—they penned a book with all the knowledge the Morrigan had about their power and existence. This book, The Ancient Book of the Morrigan, was kept by the Morrigan until about the fourteenth century. It was then lost, and no Morrigan has been able to find it since.” Gran’s expression was grave yet hopeful. “Still, each one passed down what they knew to their sisters and daughters, and to every woman who came into the Morrigan’s power, this knowledge was given.”
She began to unfold the sheets of parchment and lay them before me. I scanned what was written in faded ink.
“What we know of the Morrigan today has been passed down by oral tradition, but only the Morrigan knows about the Book.” Gran’s weathered fingers traced the words on the parchment. “I wrote down what was passed on to me, and now it is for you.” She patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry about anyone else reading it. It’s glamoured the way I am. With the Way of Kings, you should understand the words just fine.”
Gran motioned for me to sit down so I could sift through the pieces of parchment. Finally, she pointed at one, and I bent over to read it in the dim light.
“Plucked eyes, and the river runs red.
Missing limbs. They cannot place the king’s body back together again.
A woman old, a maiden mad.
Sing and be glad,
Sing. She hasn’t stolen your armor,
or washed your linens,
in the river gone wild.
The river gone red.
—Song from the Ancient Book of Morrigan
A chill passed through my body, and I looked at Gran with wide eyes. “The Morrigan went—”
“Mad,” Gran finished. “Without control over her power, sometimes she did. The madness of the Morrigan is not to be taken lightly. I came close to it myself. Too close.” She sat down as if wearied by the memories plaguing her.
I swallowed. “How do I avoid it?”
She gave me a weak smile. “By remaining good. By understanding your power is a gift, not something to consume you.”
I didn’t feel reassured.
“Read this one,” Gran instructed as she handed me another piece of parchment.
Three sisters, born for wars but not to begin them. Men made monsters do that on their own. Imah—mother—whispers, “No, they came to end them. To bring the wars to their fullness. To them, war was but the moon. It comes again and again, setting the tides of the times, shaping the kingdoms and their peoples.”
She pauses and looks at that heavy sky. The moon is dark, hidden tonight.
“War and hope were born as one. From the loins of the starry heavens came the Three, and to each was granted a gift. The sun, the moon, and the stars,” she whispered, her voice like honey, like summer sliding over her tongue and down her throat.
Diah—daughter leans into that voice. One day, she will have power. One day, she will have wisdom. One day, she will have strength. And on that day, the kings of the earth shall fall.
—Song from the Ancient Book of Morrigan
“War,” I echoed. “I don’t see myself as an on-the-battlefield type of girl.” Medical warfare was one thing, but it sure as hell wasn’t a blood-bathed battlefield.
“Neither did I,” Gran amended. “You see, my dear, you are already on a battlefield. You’re battling sickness everywhere you go. In time, you’ll battle much more. What you’ve done so far in your life has prepared you for this.”
“I don’t feel ready,” I answered, my heart rate increasing. “I have so many questions, and now I have no time.” I folded the parchment as if I could rid my mind of the things I had just read. I had enough going on at home.
“Take them with you, my dear.” Gran placed her hand over mine, and a cold chill passed through me. “Read them again and again until they rest in your heart.” She smiled. “Come back when you are ready.”
Chapter Eight
“This is the night when the gateway between our world and the spirit world is thinnest.
Tonight is a night to call out those who came before.
Tonight, I honor my ancestors.
Spirits of my fathers and mothers, I call to you tonight and welcome you to join me.
You watch over me always, protecting and guiding me, and tonight I thank you.
Your blood runs in my veins.
Your spirit is in my heart.
Your memories are in my soul.
With the gift of memory, I remember all of you.
You are dead but never forgotten, and you live on within me and those who are yet to come.”
—A Samhain prayer to the ancestors
Despite how much I felt my life had changed while I was gone, not much in the rest of the world had done the same. If anything, the condition of humanity had worsened.
I allowed myself enough time to unpack, sleep, and eat before heading in to work, though sleep was hard to find since my nei
ghbors’ noise level hadn’t changed. At least there had been no crow awaiting me on my windowsill.
The hospital was busier than ever. Was it always this chaotic, or had I forgotten while I was gone? I never thought I’d miss the countryside so much.
“Ang!” a voice called. I turned toward the voice to see a paramedic I often worked with rushing toward me. “Thank God. We’ve been absolutely overrun. Simon wants to speak to you, but after you meet with him, if you could relieve Paul so he can go home, that would be great.” The paramedic brushed the hair out of her face and caught her breath.
What does Simon want with me? I’ve come back, haven’t I?
“Of course, Meg.”
Meg smiled brightly despite her fatigue. “Thanks. I’ll be leaving soon too. Neither Paul nor I have slept in over twenty-four hours.”
My eyes widened. I had done my fair share of twenty-four-hour shifts. I groaned inwardly, knowing there were quite a few more ahead of me. I tried to give her a reassuring smile. “Of course. Go get some rest.”
Meg turned away, and when she was halfway down the hall, she waved. “Thanks a mil, Ang! I hope your time away was good!”
Define good, I thought, chuckling. Most people didn’t go on holiday and return with a power they hadn’t asked for.
“Right, Simon,” I muttered under my breath. He had been the start of all this. I made my way to the A&E and was fortunate to find its director in his office instead of attending a patient.
I knocked, which he didn’t seem to hear, so I entered and cleared my throat. Simon looked up from the stack of papers he was examining. At first, he seemed startled, but when he recognized me, he smiled.
“Ang, I cannot thank you enough for coming back early.” He straightened, and his expression grew earnest. “I apologize for cutting it short.”
