Pride Before A Fall (Book 21 in the Godhunter Series)

by Amy Sumida

  Lugh blinked in surprise. Obviously, that had never occurred to him. Honestly, it hadn't occurred to me either, and I was touched that Trevor thought to protect not only myself, but my entire faerie kingdom.

  “You have my word,” Lugh said at last. “If the negotiations don't pan out and it comes down to war, neither Vervain nor any of her faeries, will be called upon to fight. I will be content with her efforts to stop the battle before it began.”

  “That's all fine and dandy”–I sighed–“but we know that Arach wouldn't sit out a war for any reason.”

  “Not even to protect you and the twins?” Trevor lifted a dark brow.

  I felt my face go blank. Humph, now there was a question. Would love stop a dragon from fighting? Was it more important than fire and blood? I was a dragon, and I still wasn't sure.

  “I don't know,” I said with surprise. “But at least Arach will have the option. All right, Lugh, I'll talk to them.”

  “How is she going to do that anyway?” Trevor asked. “No one knows where to find the Tuatha dé Danann.”

  “I do.” Lugh heaved a huge sigh.

  Trevor lunged across the table and grabbed the High Prince by the front of his velvet tunic. Trevor's honey-stare fastened on Lugh's golden one, so similar and yet completely different. Lugh's pale skin flushed to the roots of his snowy hair, and his metallic eyes flashed a brighter gold.

  “How long have you known, Lugh?” Trevor growled. “How long!”

  “A month,” Lugh admitted, his hand encircling Trevor's wrist. “I couldn't bring myself to snitch on them. They had contacted me in confidence, to apologize for what they'd done to me. I may not support them any longer, or even want their apology, but I won't betray them like that either. A Celt does not spit upon a hand reached out in supplication. It's not right, and I just don't have it in me to do.”

  “Trevor.” Kirill stood beside Trevor, close but carefully not touching the werewolf. “You vould have done same.”

  “Leave him be, Kirill,” I said calmly, making all three men look at me in surprise.

  “You come into my home and ask for my help against people who you know that my family has bad blood with,” I said to Lugh. “I can accept that. What is not acceptable, is that you have done so after withholding pertinent information from me; the Tuatha dé Danann's whereabouts. You cannot have it both ways, Lugh. I understand that they raised you, I even understand that you still have love for some of the Tuatha and that you did not want to betray a confidence after they reached out to you with kindness. I get that. In fact, I still admire some of the Tuatha myself. But there is one Tuatha dé Danann who has wronged me and mine greatly. She has attacked my family and me, nearly killing a man I love; the father of my child. You know all of this, and you also know that we have been searching for Morrigan, not just for revenge, but to protect ourselves against any future attacks from that evil, fucking bitch!” I shouted the last words, losing my calm completely as I leaned across the table toward Lugh.

  “Vervain, I–”

  “Shut the fuck up!” I screeched, shocking everyone even more. “How dare you. How fucking dare you sit there and ask for my help when you have denied it to me first.”

  “I didn't think of it that way,” Lugh whispered.

  Trevor was responding to my anger, his fist clenching tighter in Lugh's tunic and his eyes glowing amber. Kirill blinked in shock, but then my words started to sink in, and he began to see my side of things. Kirill was fast losing his sympathy for Lugh, his sapphire eyes blazing to ultramarine. He crossed his thick arms over his chest and considered the High Prince in a new light. A much darker one.

  “What were you thinking, Lugh?” I went on. “After all I have done for you; taking you to Faerie, seeing you safely at home with your father–on a high throne of Faerie, bringing your mother to you; after all of this, you stab me in the back, and then ask for more from me? Fuck you, High Prince; you're on your own.”

  “Vervain, please,” Lugh begged. “I'm deeply sorry. I never meant to betray you. I simply wasn't thinking of it like that. Please! You know how much I value your friendship. You were the only one I could trust through that horrible time. You saw me through it, you helped to turn my heartbreak into happiness, and I will never forget that. I am your loyal friend. I swear it!”

  “You did not act with loyalty or friendship when you withheld this information from me.” I took a deep breath and calmed myself. My beasts were raging inside me, demanding blood. I had to remind them that it was Morrigan's blood that we really wanted, not Lugh's. “Why should I believe you? Why should I ever trust you again?”

  “It was a foolish mistake, not a malicious betrayal,” Lugh swore. “Gods-damn it all, Vervain, you know me better than that.”

  “I sure thought I did.”

  “How can I make this right?” Lugh asked desperately.

  “Give me the Tuatha dé Danann's location,” I said with grim determination. “Give it to me now, knowing that before I go to them and speak of peace, I will sneak into their sanctuary and slaughter the Morrigan. Then, if they still want to talk to me, I will do so on your behalf.”

  “Fuck me,” Lugh whispered. “They will never agree to speak to you after you kill Morrigan. She may not be well-liked, but she is highly-valued. Morrigan's the strongest warrior they have left.”

  “You never know, they may be more practical than you give them credit for.” I shrugged. “But it's what a friend would do for me. It's what you should have done for me a month ago when you first learned the Morrigan's whereabouts.”

  “You're right”–Lugh sighed–“I should have told you. I'm sorry that I didn't, V. Honestly, I didn't think about it as a betrayal to you.”

  “No, you were too busy being loyal to people who had betrayed you,” Trevor growled.

  “Yeah, I get it.” Lugh pushed Trevor away angrily. “Okay? I get it. I see where I fucked up and I'll fix it. Just know that your actions will most likely push the Fomorians and the Fey into war with the Tuatha dé Danann.”

  “Your actions have done zat,” Kirill corrected him. “If you had told us sooner, ve could have handled zis and be done vith it. Now, vhere are zey?”

  “They're in Annwn,” Lugh finally answered.

  “The Celtic Hell?” I asked with surprise.

  “Not hell.” Lugh grimaced. “It's more like a paradise, though it's usually referred to as an underworld. Annwn is where the Fomorians sent all of the human souls who were previously living in Mag Mell.”

  “Right.” I vividly recalled sitting at the high table in Tara with King Elatha, asking him where the souls of Mag Mell had gone. “That didn't seem right to me. The Tuatha dé Danann bargained with humans for sacrifice; Heaven in exchange for blood. Another god shouldn't be allowed to come along and take it all away from them.”

  “Annwn isn't a bad place to be,” Lugh said. “Some would find it even more beautiful than Tara.”

  “Then why aren't the Tuatha dé Danann happy to stay there?” Trevor asked.

  “Because the Tuatha dé Danann can't rule Annwn,” Lugh said cryptically. “Annwn is King Arawn's domain.”

  “King Arawn”–I scowled–“why does that name sound so familiar to me?”

  “Probably because he was named after your husband.” Lugh smirked.

  “Excuse me?” I gaped at Lugh.

  “He's the Celtic God of the Wild Hunt,” Lugh explained. “Have you really never heard of him?”

  “No, I haven't. How many Wild Hunts are there?” I asked.

  “I'm not certain.” Lugh blinked. “I know of three; the Norse, the Celt, and the–”

  “Fey,” I cut him off. “Yes, I'm familiar with the other two. So, this Arawn is named after Arach?”

  “That's right.”

  “But Arach was born only a few years before the paths to Faerie were closed,” I reasoned. “How could a Celtic god be named after him?”

  “Arawn was born shortly after Arach.” Lugh shrugged. “Your Fire
King is the son of dragons, thus his name, and he was anointed by his parents to rule the Wild Hunt of Faerie once he came of age. The Celts, who were closely tied to the Fey, often had children whose magic mimicked, and sometimes even bonded to, faeries. Arawn was one such child. He was born with a magic that mimicked Arach's, and so his parents wanted to honor his faerie counterpart. They couldn't name him 'dragon,' so they changed the last two letters of his name to 'wn' in a nod to Arawn's territory, which was created at the time of his birth.”

  “Half Hunt and half Underworld,” I said. “Interesting.”

  “Maybe you shouldn't go to Annwn,” Trevor said. “You seem to attract gods of the Hunt, and the last thing we need is another man sniffing around your skirts.”

  “I wonder if Arach knows about him?” I mused to myself, ignoring Trevor's sniffing comment.

  “The Fire King probably has a faint sense that someone is aligned with his magic,” Lugh offered. “But I doubt that he actually knows of their connection. King Arach was just a child when the gates between the Faerie Realm and our realms were shut.”

  “Fascinating,” I whispered. “Maybe I should take Arach with me.”

  “To infiltrate his magical-twin's territory and kill a goddess who's hiding out there?” Trevor asked. “Sure, sounds like good times. Tell him to bring the boys along too, maybe they can roast marshmallows over Morrigan's burning corpse.”

  “Yeah, all right,” I huffed. “You didn't have to be gross about it.”

  “Tima,” Kirill said in a low tone, “I zink you should stay home zis time.”

  “And miss seeing this Celtic paradise?” I scoffed. “Not a chance.”

  “Tima,” Kirill growled.

  “Ganza,” I growled back pointedly.

  “Kirill, you know how she is.” Trevor shook his head. “Just let it go, man. The best we can do is watch her back.”

  “And front,” Kirill added. “And sides–especially sides. Remember vhat happened at Ragnarok.”

  “'Remember Ragnarok' is going to be our new slogan,” I said dryly to Lugh. “It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?”

  Lugh chuckled briefly before going somber. “Please be as careful as possible when you go after Morrigan. Arawn will not take kindly to you trespassing in his territory.”

  “We'll be subtle and sneaky,” I promised. “Just like ninjas.”

  “Vervain, how many times do I have to tell you that being a quarter Japanese does not make you a ninja?” Trevor grumbled.

  Chapter Five

  “You can't bring all of them, Dad,” I said gently to Fenrir, the Norse Wolf God, who was also my father-in-law.

  “She's a tough one, little frami,” Fenrir growled. “We'll need all the help we can get.”

  “This time, we're prepared for her magic,” Trevor reasoned with his father. “We have Torrent, and he can target her. You don't have to bring the entire Pack with us.”

  “Now that I know what to look for, I'm pretty sure that I can unmake Morrigan's magic,” Torrent added, his bright green eyes earnestly meeting Fenrir's honey gaze.

  Torrent had a little hero worship going on for Fenrir, ever since the Wolf God had included Torr in the Froekn family. Family was a huge deal as far as Torrent was concerned, since all he'd known of it before he met me, was his creator, Iktomi. Let's just say that Iktomi hadn't been much of a father.

  “Pretty sure?” Fenrir's eyes narrowed.

  “Well, nothing is ever absolute.” Torrent shrugged. “But I'm familiar with Morrigan's techniques now, and I believe I can unmake the magic of her prescience as it forms.”

  “Pressy-what?” Fenrir frowned.

  “Her ability to foresee the future, Dad,” I explained.

  “Ah”–Fenrir blinked–“why didn't you just say that, Torrent?”

  “I... uh.” Torrent looked to me for help.

  “He was born of Internet energy, Dad,” I jumped in to help. “Torrent has an entire world of knowledge at his disposal; it makes him use big words sometimes.”

  “Oh, right.” Fenrir nodded. “You're a smart boy, that's a good thing. Now, if you can handle Morrigan's pressy-ants, we can handle the rest, and we shouldn't need too many wolves to do it. I suppose that's a good thing; the more wolves, the less I get to torture that kidnapping harlot.”

  “I'm going, that's not up for debate,” UnnúlfR said as he walked into Fenrir's meeting room.

  “I thought you'd be with Vejasmate,” I teased him.

  “I'm letting Ty spend some time with his mother alone,” UnnúlfR said gruffly.

  Ty (Trevor and UnnúlfR's younger brother) had just recently been reunited with his mother, Vejasmate. It was a hell of a reunion, and it had begun with violence, which was pretty much SOP for the Froekn. Vejasmate had created her own Latvian werewolf pack after she left Fenrir; mainly because he had cursed her to bear only werewolf children. In Fenrir's defense, he had believed that Vejasmate left him because she'd seen Ty shift into a wolf. It was a fair assumption since all his previous wives had done the same.

  That wasn't the reason, at all. Vejasmate left because she thought that Fenrir was kicking her out, but it was all a trick orchestrated by UnnúlfR, who had been trying to protect his father from yet another heartbreak. This wasn't even the most shocking part of the drama, though. The big surprise came when UnnúlfR confessed his love for Vejasmate, and then things got even stranger when Veja decided to give UnnúlfR a chance, romantically speaking. Now, they were officially a couple, and Ty was trying to deal with the fact that he had a mother at last, but she was dating his older brother. That's the world of the gods for you.

  “So, are we telling Ty?” I asked.

  Ty had been one of the wolves Morrigan had kidnapped in an effort to force me to fight against the Fomorians. That hadn't worked out so well for her. Morrigan obviously hadn't thought things through, or just hadn't cared that abducting froekn wolves was akin to declaring war on them. Viking werewolves don't react well to any kind of threat against their pack, especially when it concerns one of their princes. Three is a divine number, even with werewolves, and Fenrir's first three children were the elite: froekn princes, with Trevor being the heir apparent. If Fenrir ever died, Trevor would inherit the wolf magic and lead the Pack.

  “I don't want Ty anywhere near that bitch,” Fenrir growled.

  “Don't you think that he'll want to get a few kicks in?” I asked. “He deserves his revenge too, Dad.”

  “I know.” Fenrir sighed and ran a hand over his face. “I just... maybe I'm getting soft in my old age.”

  “Hardly,” Emma, Fenrir's human wife, scoffed as she walked in. “Ty will always be the baby in your eyes, no matter how old he gets.”

  “He's kind,” Fenrir said as if he couldn't decide whether it was a good thing or not, “far too kind to be a wolf. I blame his mother.”

  “Dad”–Trevor shook his head and laid a hand on Fenrir's massive shoulder–“Ty may have a gentle nature, but he's still a froekn. He's half you, and even the half that isn't you is still formidable. Vejasmate is not a weak woman.”

  “Ain't that the truth.” UnnúlfR smirked.

  “Fine,” Fenrir growled, then looked at UnnúlfR. “Go get the boy. See if he wants to join us.”

  UnnúlfR nodded and left.

  “One more thing before we go,” I said to Fenrir. “You can all have your turn, but I claim the kill.”

  “Now, wait one–” Fenrir started.

  “Dad,” I growled, cutting him off, “Morrigan tried to kill my husband... out of pure spite. Kirill has already told me that he doesn't want the kill, so that means it's mine.”

  Fenrir made some snarling sounds but finally nodded. “So be it. You have the larger claim.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But I'm taking my time before I pass her over to you,” Fenrir said.

  Chapter Six

  Ty decided to join us. With him included, there were seven of us going into Annwn. We decided not to call in Odin, R
e, and the boys, and Azrael was still on Lesya duty. We were certain that we could handle Morrigan without them. Morrigan's War magic was impressive, but her most challenging ability was her prophecy, which allowed her to foresee her enemy's moves before they made them. But if Torrent could unmake Morrigan's prophecy before she had a chance to use it, then she would be easy pickings.

  Lugh had given us the chant to enter Annwn, so we didn't even need to bother unmaking a ward and pissing off King Arawn. We really could just sneak into the territory. Hopefully, our luck would hold, and we'd be able to locate Morrigan, kill her, and get out of Annwn before anyone was the wiser.

  In hindsight, that was probably a little too optimistic.

  We all traced into Annwn expecting different things. I expected to find a territory similar to Tara; an Irish island sort of thing, with woodland surrounding a beautiful castle, and the sea beyond that. I don't exactly know what everyone else was expecting, but the others seemed just as surprised as I when we stepped out of the Aether into a lush paradise of misty mountains, ripening orchards, and fragrant gardens spotted with homes for the human souls. Annwn was massive, and in the center of it rose a translucent, towering castle.

  “Is it crystal?” I asked as I stared at the castle.

  “Glass,” Torrent answered, his eyes moving left to right as he read directly from the Internet. “It's a glass fortress. Like Cinderella, except much bigger.”

  “No kidding,” Trevor growled. “That ain't no shoe.”

  “Vhere do ve start?” Kirill asked as he surveyed the landscape.

  “At the fucking fortress, of course,” Fenrir huffed. “Though it's going to be a little more difficult to sneak through glass walls without being spotted. Gods-damned, crazy-ass Celts.”

  “Or we could just follow the birdie.” Ty pointed to the clear, midday sky, where a black bird was circling against a backdrop of robin's egg-blue.