by Sumida,Amy
Then the ball of light grew and altered, lengthening and flattening into a rectangle. A doorway. Within the light I began to see shapes, people sized shapes. They were moving forward. Then a body stepped out of the light, and the blonde man's face lit with a radiant smile. It was another man with a similar build and coloring, though his skin was a shade darker and his hair a touch lighter. He slid behind the blonde holding the crystal, and laid his palms supportively on the man's shoulders. They faced the door of light together, and the energy coming from the crystal seemed to pulse stronger.
More people began to step out of the door. More and more until the room was full of tall, obviously divine people. They were all beautiful, though not as beautiful as the first man to emerge or the blonde he was supporting. They reminded me a little of the sidhe actually, just a bit fleshier in form. The men were thickly muscled, and the women had some impressive curves. They were dressed like they'd stepped out of Camelot; velvet tunics, silk gowns, and circlets upon their heads. I did more than a little blinking.
“What the hell?” I whispered as the light faded and then died out completely. The two men, who'd evidently been holding the passage open, turned and hugged each other warmly.
“Enjoy that embrace,” Morrigan sneered as she headed towards them. Looked like the ward had left with the doorway, “because it will be your last.”
“Morrigan,” the blonde crystal bearer hissed. “Leave them be. They've suffered long enough.”
“Not nearly,” Morrigan's hand lifted like she was She-Ra, and a sword appeared in it. Evidently, she had the power. “And also...” she leveled the sword at the blonde, “you're supposed to be dead. I shall rectify that discrepancy right now.”
“Who are these people?” I looked around at the confused froekn and frowning God Squad as the other gods, the ones who'd been fueling the blonde's crystal, fainted into exhausted heaps.
“I believe they're the Formorians,” Odin gaped at the gathering.
“For-whatians?” I shook my head.
“Old gods,” he glanced at me. “Enemies of the Tuatha Dé Dannan.”
“Oh,” I looked back at the unfolding scene. “And they were what? Stuck somewhere?”
“Banished. A very long time ago,” Trevor answered, and then looked to Odin with wide eyes. “Is that Bres?”
“I believe so” Odin nodded.
“Bres?” I looked back at the men Morrigan was now fighting. “As in Brighid's dead husband? That Bres?”
“Yes, that Bres,” Trevor watched the fight avidly.
The two blonde men had acquired their own swords, and were fighting Morrigan like a couple of twin He-Man's to her She-Ra. Their crowd of refugees watched serenely, not in the least concerned over the outcome. In my opinion, they should have been. Morrigan was more than holding her own. She drew blood numerous times, screeching like a predator bird as she did. The opponents flowed around each other, jumping and twirling in some kind of bizarre dance that belonged in an Asian martial arts movie: Crouching Celt, Hidden Hotties. It was impossible to look away from.
“You killed my father and you will die for it,” she sneered at the blonder of the two, the one who had come out of the light.
“Alright, Inigo Montoya,” I muttered as I rolled my eyes.
Morrigan set her gaze on the darker blonde, “And you, traitor, you shall die for what you did to my people.”
“They are my people too,” the traitor, whose name was most likely Bres, snapped at her.
“That's why you're a traitor!” Morrigan screamed and sliced at him. I had to hand it to her, it may have been two against one, but the men had yet to land a blow. She didn't even have a scratch on her. And she looked magnificent, I might add. Even with the crazy eyes.
“Enough!” The blonder man cried. “I've allowed you a blood payment, Morrigan,” he held up his bleeding arm. “Take it and be gone.”
“You think a few cuts will satisfy me?” she scoffed. “Please. Nothing short of your head on a pike will make me stop now. You should have stayed in your hole, Elatha. Where you and your kind belong.”
“The Tuatha banished us beneath the sea!” Elatha, the blonder one, shouted. “You expect us to just crawl around in those damp caves forever? Do you really believe that to be justice, Morrigan? I don't think you do, but it matters little now. We are done suffering. We are Formorians and we need the sea. To bury us beneath her, so close to our beloved, and yet unable to touch her, was cruel. Even for the cold hearted Tuatha Dé Dannan.”
“You're lucky we let you pirates live,” Morrigan sneered. “Go back or I shall finish what I started all those years ago.”
“Be done with this, Morrigan,” Elatha shook his head as his people closed in around him. “Peace between us, please,” he held out his hand, and she slapped it away with the flat of her sword. “You are outnumbered, Ri. We will slaughter you. But it doesn't have to end like that.”
“Don't call me Ri,” she hissed.
“And she isn't entirely outnumbered,” I called out, earning horrified looks from the Squad.
“Who is that?” Elatha peered through the low light in my direction.
“No,” Odin grabbed my arm as I stepped forward.
“This is our club,” I said to him. “I'm not about to let a war break out in the middle of it without at least attempting to stop it.”
“She's right,” Trevor stepped up beside me, and we moved forward together. “I am VéulfR Fenrirson, Crown Prince of the Froekn. And this is my wife, Vervain Lavine, Goddess of Love, Lions, and La Luna, Queen of the Fire Kingdom, and also the Godhunter.”
Love, Lions, and La Luna. I liked that. I'd have to remember it, it rolled off the tongue nicely. Maybe I'd have it embroidered onto a pillow. Or Pan could make it into a T-shirt for me. He'd made enough shirts for everyone else, it had nearly become a side business for him.
“That's a lot of titles for such a little woman,” Elatha smiled at me and I swallowed hard. He was knee-quakingly sexy, more beautiful than even Re.
“Yeah well,” I shrugged, and went to stand beside the shocked Morrigan. “I earned them over time. A little here, a little there. No biggie. And you are?” I held my hand out to him.
Morrigan's sword tip dropped to the dance floor with a shocked thud as I shook hands with her enemy.
“I am Elatha Mac Dalbaech, King of the Formorians,” he shook my hand warmly. “And this is my son, Bres.”
“Yeah, I heard you were dead,” I reached over to shake Bres' hand.
“Who told you that?” the second most beautiful man in the room gave me a wicked grin.
“Your wife,” I said and then sobered, “right before she died. Not by my hand, just so you know. Though honestly, I would have done it, had I been able to.”
“Ah,” he sighed. “It sounds like you knew my wife well. So then you must know what a relief her death is to me.”
“A relief?” Odin was behind me, but I hadn't realized it until he spoke. “She loved you. Brighid broke my son's heart because of that love.”
“I'm sorry about your boy, but Brigid was a complete lunatic,” Bres huffed. “Why do you think I faked my own death? She lost her mind when our son died, and she never recovered.”
“What's happening here?” Morrigan asked in horrified wonder. “Does no one recall that I have vowed to kill these men? Head on a spike! Does that spark your memory?”
“Alright look,” I stood back. “I won't stand here and watch you get butchered, Morrigan. I don't know you that well, but I do know your grandfather, and I like him. So I got your back... to a point. This guy just offered you peace, and I'd like to know why you're rejecting it.”
“None of your damn business, Godhunter,” she sneered at me.
“What is a god hunter?” Elatha asked his son.
“Exactly as it sounds,” Bres shrugged. “She hunts us.”
“No, not exactly,” I held up a finger. “I'm a goddess, as well as a faerie, and a human. I kill only when I hav
e to. And damn it, Morrigan,” I turned to her, “I just offered you my help. You can't even tell me what your beef is with them?”
“Love is her...,” Elatha turned to look at his son with a question in his eyes, “Beef? Really?” Bres nodded again, so Elatha said it again more confidently. “Love is her beef with me.”
“Nay, it's not,” Morrigan growled. “Unless you count love for my father.”
“This has nothing to do with your father,” Elatha sighed. “I had nothing to do with him. But I had a lot to do with you, didn't I, Ri? It's been so long, haven't you forgiven me by now?”
“Stop calling me Ri,” she growled. “My name is Morrigan. You may call me Goddess or Phantom Queen if Morrigan doesn't work for you. But you may not call me Ri. Unless you would like to eat your testicles for your last meal.”
Oh no, I looked back and forth between them. This was a lover's spat. That upped the ante. Love made battle ten times more vicious. Can you say Troy? And by the way, did she just tell him she was going to cut off his balls and serve them to him for dinner? I needed to start taking notes. This woman had a whole new level of smack talk that I could only aspire to.
“Okay, I've had enough of this,” I declared after I made a mental note of the testicle thing. I pointed to the door assertively, “Everyone out.”
“What?” Morrigan gaped at me just as sirens began to blare in the distance.
“Ha! You hear that?” I asked them both. “That's the human police coming to investigate all this hullabaloo you've caused. In my club.”
“Humans? Hullabaloo?” Elatha huffed. “I'm unsure what the second one is exactly, but I'm rather certain that neither one concerns us.”
“Uh, Father?” Bres grimaced at Elatha. “We generally try to avoid notice these days. Humans... they don't believe in us anymore.”
“Then it's time to renew their belief,” Elatha smirked.
“Best not to,” Bres shook his head. “I'll explain later. Let's just go. I have a place for us. And a plan.”
“No,” Morrigan lifted her sword. “You're not leaving here. At least not with your heads attached.”
“Not here,” I hissed at Morrigan as I made another mental note about the heads attached thing. “You're smart enough to know that you won't win against these odds. Aren't you?”
“You said you'd back me,” she snarled. “But even without you, I'll win. No problem.”
“I said I'd back you against being murdered,” I shook my head, “not into battle. I don't know enough about this fight to choose a side. Put the sword down, Morrigan. Leave this war for another day. And hopefully another place.”
Her wild eyes flew to Elatha, where he was backing away with his people. Suddenly, they all turned and rushed out of the club, though admittedly they did so with grace. Bres whispered something in his father's ear. Elatha nodded, keeping his eyes on Morrigan.
“Goodbye, lover,” Elatha smiled at Morrigan and ran for the door with his son. “Don't worry, I'll be seeing you soon,” he tossed over his shoulder.
“Fucking bastard!” Morrigan shouted, and burst apart into a cloud of feathers. A crow flew out of the feathered darkness and shot through the main door. A crying screech echoed back to us.
“Well that was fun,” Azrael bent down and picked up one of the feathers Morrigan had left behind.
“When did you get here?” I gaped at him, realizing that he hadn't been among the group who had come with me. That's right, I'd left him sleeping upstairs. Oops.
“Kirill woke me up,” Azrael set his annoyed stare on me. “I don't appreciate being left behind, Vervain.”
“And neither do I,” Thor added as he strode up beside Az.
Oh damn. Thor had taken my mother home after she had her visit with my sons. We'd left before he'd had a chance to return.
“Oh Az,” I hurried over to my husband first. Priorities. Husband trumps ex-boyfriend. “I'm so sorry. I just... we didn't even think, just rushed out.”
I glanced at Thor, but Odin was already offering him an apology. And giving him the news about Bres.
“It's fine,” Az chuckled. “I get it. Just don't do it again. I almost missed seeing the Formorians, and they haven't been seen since before your last incarnation, as Sabine.”
“That's a long time to be stuck under the sea,” I murmured.
“No kidding,” Finn agreed. “I thought I had it bad with the swan thing, but living in wet caves for centuries is far worse. I wonder what they ate.”
“The war between the Tuatha and the Formorians was savage,” Odin grimaced. “Great losses were suffered on both sides, and I can easily understand the hatred that followed. But I never agreed with what the Tuatha did to the Formorians.”
He bent and picked up something from the floor. The crystal chunk that Bres had been holding. Odin slipped it into his pocket with a pensive expression.
“Perhaps you never agreed with it,” Thor rumbled, “but you were relieved, Father. The world became safer for everyone without the Formorians in it.”
“They didn't seem so bad to me,” I offered. “They just wanted to be free. Elatha asked Morrigan for peace.”
“Of course he asked for peace,” Thor rolled his eyes. “It's Morrigan.”
“The Tuatha Dé Dannan and the Formorians are both gods of Nature,” Azrael tapped Morrigan's inky feather to his palm. “They were so close to the Fey, that humans viewed them as faeries themselves, and they took on faerie aspects, if not elemental magic per se. The Tuatha held magic which represented the light side of Nature; fertility, prosperity, that sort of thing. The Formorians were their counterparts, gods who represented the dark side of Nature; chaos, blight, drought and so on. They fight because it's only natural that they do so. Just as it's only natural that they sometimes do the opposite and fall in love.”
“Which makes things even messier,” I sighed.
“Exactly,” Azrael tucked the feather into his pocket and smiled at me. “But messy can be fun.”
“And dangerous,” Thor muttered, “very dangerous.”
“Preach,” I muttered back.
Chapter Eighteen
The police arrived and were given a story about a gang of Ren Fair actors who had rampaged our club as a sort of prank. HPD scowled through our shoddy explanations until one of them remembered seeing a local re-enactment group on the news once. He concluded that it had to be those weirdos with the wooden swords. The police exchanged a round of nods and sage affirmatives full of extraneous words, before writing profusely in their little notebooks, and advising us to call them if the perpetrators showed up again. We were also informed that a copy of the report would be available to us, should we need it for an insurance report.
The club wasn't as damaged as it seemed. It was mainly cosmetic. We lost some bottles of liquor and some decorations, but the plant life had made it through the ruckus with just a few broken branches. The waterfall was flowing fine, despite some floating debris, and the durable dance floor wasn't even scuffed. The gods whose energy Bres had stolen, woke up just before the police arrived. We encouraged them to make a hasty retreat through the tracing room, with promises of free drinks and VIP treatment on their next visit. They looked confused and very tired. None of them had any memory of what had happened, and they eagerly latched onto our explanations of an excessive amount of Duat wine combined with a party that got too out of hand.
After the god customers and the police were gone, we had our own little pow wow about the debacle. Moonshine was supposed to be the safest magic club in the world. We oathed all gods at the door, binding them from using magic on the premises. Then there was the security system, housed within the fake moon suspended over the center of the club. It could sense ill intentions and any gathering magic. It shouldn't have been possible for Bres to pull off this stunt.
The froekn who had been working the door swore that Bres had made the required oath before he entered, and those working moon security vowed that they saw no spikes to warn them
of what he was about to do. Bres had come in, made his oath like every other god, and then done magic right in the middle of our club. It shouldn't have been possible.
Odin was the one to figure it out. It was the crystal. Technically Bres hadn't done any magic, he'd simply directed the crystal's magic. He'd evaded detection by the moon because he'd immediately set his plan into action. The moon didn't have time to sense his intentions.
So basically, we needed to rethink our security. Possibly add something to the oath about the use of tools and amulets.
When the club was finally settled again, the froekn staff cleaning up and closing for the night, I traced home with my men and the Squad. Kirill and Morpheus were waiting anxiously for us, having drunk three entire bottles of vodka. The effects of which they'd burned off already. God healing can sometimes get annoying. The only alcohol which made a lasting dent in our tolerance was from Duat, Faerie, or Hell.
We told them the news. Kirill's face remained blank when he heard of Morrigan's grim pronouncement. Morpheus was relieved to discover that he wasn't the target of the War Goddess' vengeance, but his relief was tempered by worry for his friend. We were all worried. All of us except Kirill.
“If I die,” Kirill said to me, “I die a happy man.”
“What the hell, Kirill?” I gaped at him. “No, you're not going to die. Happy or otherwise. You're staying here till we make sure you're safe.”
“Both Morrigan and Alaric have said not to hide,” Kirill shrugged. “Al said if you want me to live, you must face facts. Zat means zere's chance for me to live. And if zere's chance, you vill find it. I know you, Tima,” he kissed me sweetly. “You vill find a vay.”
“No pressure then,” I shook my head even as I snuggled into his arms.
“Never,” he chuckled and held me tighter.
“So what do we do now?” Trevor was staring at Kirill grimly.
