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

by Amy Sumida

  “Kinda creepy, Arawn,” I noted nervously.

  “Your attack was vicious,” he said with a suddenly serious expression. His eyes flickered over me, and his lips pressed together. “And methodical. The Morrigan's screams were worse than any I've ever heard upon a hunt.”

  “That was my father-in-law's vengeance.” I cleared my throat. “We've had some issues with Morrigan, and he needed to work them out before I killed her.”

  “Obviously,” Arawn's voice dripped sarcasm.

  “If you opposed it, then why didn't you try to intercede?” Azrael asked him.

  “I did not oppose it. I am a god of revenge, among other things.” Arawn shrugged. “I not only understand the need for it, I feed off it. You claimed your vengeance within my territory, making it a direct sacrifice to me. I should be thanking you, all of you.” Arawn smiled wickedly at Trevor and Kirill before bringing his gaze back to mine. “I haven't had that much of a power surge since the seventeenth century. Morrigan has a tremendous amount of magic. Oh, excuse me, she had a tremendous amount. Now, I have it,” his voice was smug.

  “Not a fan of Morrigan's?” Re asked. “Aren't you a part of her pantheon?”

  Arawn laughed.

  “Arawn is a member of the third class of Celtic gods,” Odin explained, “he's neutral; neither Tuatha dé Danann nor Fomorian. They are all a part of the same pantheon, but you've already seen how loyalties are divided.”

  “I am God of Annwn,” Arawn declared. “I can have no allegiances.”

  “But you're allowing the Tuatha dé Danann to hide here,” Trevor observed.

  “They are a part of my pantheon, as you say.” Arawn spread his hands out to his sides. “I will offer them shelter, but should the Fomorians come here to war with them; I will force them to leave.”

  “And you call me vicious,” I noted.

  “Actually, it wouldn't be my decision,” Arawn said. “Annwn is even more neutral than I am. It will not abide war. This is sacred ground in a way, a place for human souls to find peace after death. None are allowed to disturb that peace, not even other gods.”

  “So, if gods bring battle to your doorstep?” Azrael asked.

  “Annwn will purge whatever draws the violence here,” Arawn answered.

  “And yet, I was allowed to kill the Morrigan,” I pointed out.

  “Yes,” Arawn said with delight. “You found the loophole, Vervain. Your vengeance made Morrigan's death into a sacrifice to the God of Annwn, not an act of war. As such, it was holy, and very much allowed.”

  “Damn,” I whispered. “I almost feel sorry for Morrigan. She was probably so cocky with us because she thought she was safe here.”

  “She was cocky with us because she was a cocky bitch,” Trevor growled.

  “I have to agree with the Wolf Prince.” Arawn nodded, though there was a tightness about his lips. “Morrigan wasn't known for her polite conversation. She is–was–a direct woman with a manner that most found abrasive.”

  Trevor chuckled and nodded. “I like you, King Arawn, well met.”

  “Well met, Prince Trevor,” Arawn said back. “Well met, all of you. Please, accompany me to my home. I'd be happy to offer you my hospitality.”

  Chapter Nine

  “I haven't told them about your interlude with Morrigan,” Arawn whispered to me as he took my hand and wound it about his thick bicep.

  We were just entering the great hall of Fortress Annwn, and I was still a little dazzled by all the glass. When the Celt's named something, they intended for it to be a clear indication of what it was. A glass fortress was a big, freaking, glass castle. Every wall was made of the stuff. Some walls were faceted, some clear, and some were frosted. Thank goodness for that last bit because I didn't want to play peek-a-boo with the Tuatha dé Danann. Some things should remain unseen.

  “Do they know that she's dead?” I asked, leaning my head toward his.

  “Not yet”–he gave me a wink–“I've hidden the body.”

  “What? Why?”

  “So you could return, of course,” he said with an obvious tone. “I had hoped to meet my namesake, but I suppose King Arach is busy in Faerie?”

  “He's with our sons,” I confirmed.

  “Yes, as he should be.” Arawn looked wistful. “I never had children. I suppose I'm a little too flighty for that.”

  “Huntsmen make wonderful fathers,” Odin said magnanimously. “You should try to have a child someday. He–or she– could ride beside you.”

  “Thank you, Odin.” Arawn looked back at my husband in pleased surprise. “Coming from the Allfather, that advice seems all the more special.”

  The great hall looked like something Swarovski might design. The room was circular and topped with a domed ceiling. Mirrored walls were outlined by faceted glass vines which blossomed into crystal flowers. The vines continued up to the ceiling, where they joined together and transformed into thick beams. The translucent beams arched across the dome and each other, forming sharp points in their centers which hung down over the diners in a rather unsettling way. Crystal drops were suspended from each dangerous point, making the entire room feel like a giant chandelier.

  “This is sparkly,” I noted. “I think I might need some sunglasses.”

  Arawn chuckled. “Indeed. It can be like living inside a crystal goblet sometimes.”

  Curved dining tables followed the circle of the room, with the high table being the only straight line there. It was set on a dais at the end of the dining room. Behind the high table, there was a bank of windows, reminiscent of the dining hall in Tara. These windows had a view of a lush, forested valley with hazy mountain peaks in the distance. An elaborate, glass throne sat at the exact center of the high table, with smaller chairs set to either side of it. All of the chairs were empty.

  The room, however, was filled with Tuatha dé Danann, and every face turned toward us as we walked in. Even though they'd been expecting us, they didn't seem to be prepared for our arrival. Or maybe it was just that they were surprised to see Lugh. Whatever it was, they all started to speak at once.

  “Silence!” Arawn said, suddenly becoming one very scary dude.

  The Tuatha dé Danann shut the hell up.

  “The Godhunter is here to speak with you about the Fomorians, as you well know,” Arawn went on as he led us across the circular expanse between the Fomorians, and over to the high table. His hounds followed closely on our heels. “Bring forth your leaders and attend us.”

  I gave Odin an impressed look, and he smirked back at me. We all took seats at the high table with Arawn. Arawn's coon dogs spread out behind him, in the curve of the the bay windows, and lounged in the moonlight. Meanwhile, the Tuatha dé Danann scurried to send up the gods who were now in the lofty position of leading a bunch of refugees. Four men approached the high table, and instead of sitting beside us, so that we were all facing outward, as was traditional, they pulled some chairs around the table so that they could sit across from us; from me, in particular. I recognized all of them, but only knew one of them by name.

  “Manannan,” I said in greeting.

  “Godhunter,” he said, but his eyes strayed to Lugh. “Lugh, how are you?”

  “I'm well,” Lugh said succinctly. “I have an issue with you, with all of you, but I will let Vervain speak on my behalf. For now.”

  “So be it.” Manannan set his stare on me.

  “Introductions first.” I looked pointedly at the other men. “I like to know who I'm talking to.”

  “These are the Three Gods of Skill,” Odin introduced them before Manannan could. “Luchta, Goibniu, and Credne. I fashioned Nuada's arm with Credne's help.”

  “Allfather.” Credne gave Odin a respectful nod.

  All three of the men had a similar look about them; thick like linebackers, fair of skin, with dark hair and dark eyes. I frowned and looked closer; they could have been brothers, their features were that similar.

  “Three gods,” I mused. “A trinity?
”

  “It is tradition.” Goibniu shrugged. “Gods like threes.”

  “Humans like threes, you guys had nothing to do with it,” I corrected as I shifted uneasily. My thoughts strayed to Morrigan. Again with the god-damned (literally) trinities.

  “And the Celts, in particular, like metalsmiths,” Odin added. “I'm not surprised that you three have been chosen to lead the Tuatha dé Danann along with Manannan.”

  “We make excellent weapons.” Luchta smirked. “It gives us a bit of prestige. Especially when we go to war so often.”

  “What's your issue with us, Vervain?” Manannan asked, disregarding Luchta's boasting entirely. I did like that about Manannan; he was a down to earth guy–for a sea god. “Or is it only Lugh's issue that you wish to speak of?”

  “It is mainly Lugh's,” I admitted. “Lugh's and his mother's.”

  “What has Ethniu to do with us?” Credne asked. “We've done nothing to the woman.”

  “Really?” Lugh huffed. “Nothing? That's what you're going with?”

  I shot Lugh a look, and he quieted. Maybe it would have been better to have left him behind, after all. Hotheads weren't conducive to compromise. But what was interesting were the confused looks on the faces of the Tuatha dé Danann leaders. They were either very good actors, or they truly had no idea what Lugh was referring to.

  “There have been some attacks on Tara,” I began, paying close attention to the Tuatha dé Danann's reactions. “Some very underhanded attacks.”

  The men looked even more surprised, their eyes shooting sideways at each other in question.

  “How underhanded?” Manannan asked.

  “Traps set in the forest, buildings destroyed, crops burned,” I listed a few of the things Lugh had told me of. “Not very honorable. I'm rather surprised by all of you. I had thought that you followed some sort of creed, even in war.”

  “We have not left Annwn,” Goibniu protested. “And we certainly wouldn't attack Tara in such a manner. It's still our home, and we would not see it destroyed; honor and creed have nothing to do with it.”

  “You're seriously going to–”

  “Lugh,” I growled. “What happened to me handling this? Or would you rather we aggravate things instead of forming a truce?”

  Lugh looked at me, we stared hard at each other, and then he nodded.

  “Truce?” Manannan asked in surprise. “We are not currently at war. When we do decide to reclaim Tara, there will be no doubt of our intentions... and there will be no truce.”

  “You are certain that these attacks aren't coming from any Tuatha dé Danann?” I asked.

  “I'm certain,” Manannan asserted.

  “Could one of your gods have snuck away?” Trevor asked. “Perhaps they did this without your approval or knowledge? Annwn doesn't seem to be the most secure territory.”

  “The only one who has asked to leave is Morrigan, and we have denied her request,” Manannan said, then frowned and looked around the room. “Where is Morrigan? Has anyone seen her today?”

  The room came alive with mutters, and I shared an uneasy look with my group.

  “Perhaps it's Morrigan who is behind the attacks,” Arawn offered with a smirk.

  I sent a wide-eyed, warning look his way, and Arawn winked at me. I nearly groaned. Great, another instigator.

  “No, we've made a pact,” Manannan protested. “We agreed not to attack the Fomorians until we were all prepared and had a plan in place. I swear to you that no such plans have been made, and Morrigan would never go against her vow.”

  “You cannot say for certain what is in the heart of another god,” Arawn said loftily. “We all hold our secrets, Morrigan included, I'm sure.”

  “If it is Morrigan, she would need help to do the things you've mentioned,” Credne said with a calculating look. “And every other Tuatha dé Danann is accounted for.”

  “But we will search for our missing goddess, and if she is behind this, we will put a stop to it,” Manannan declared.

  “Fair enough. But you're certain it's none of you that are currently here?” I pressed on, hoping they'd let the Morrigan thing go because I was certain that it wasn't her.

  “We are certain, Godhunter,” Luchta declared.

  I looked to Lugh, and he scowled.

  “I believe them,” Lugh said. “But if not them, then who is attacking the Fomorians. They have no other enemies, and anyone else would be stopped by the wards.”

  “Whomever it is, more power to them,” Goibniu muttered. “They do our work for us.”

  “My mother is Fomorian,” Lugh growled in Goibniu's face. “I am Fomorian!”

  “We tried to spare you that,” Goibniu sneered back. “It's a horrid shame that you came from that Fomorian flesh.”

  “Fuck you, Goibniu!” Lugh stood and started to lean across the table. “We'll see how superior your flesh is when I run it through with my sword.”

  “Uh-uh.” Arawn waved his little finger and Lugh went hurtling back into his chair. “Annwn is sacred ground. No fighting.”

  “Then you had best remain safe here in Annwn,” Lugh threatened Goibniu.

  “As if you could ever hurt me, pup,” Goibniu growled.

  “Shall we leave together and find out?” Lugh narrowed his eyes.

  “Why do I feel like I'm in high school again?” I asked the table in general.

  “I feel right at home.” Trevor smirked and popped a berry in his mouth.

  “No Tuatha dé Danann leaves Annwn,” Manannan said in a way that felt very final.

  “Ever?” Re asked. “That's a little extreme.”

  “For now,” Manannan amended with a grimace at Re. “I don't want any of us out there, while this unknown enemy is starting another war and seeking to use us as a scapegoat.”

  “I hadn't thought of that possibility,” I lifted my brows at Lugh, and he began to look worried.

  “This has become boring,” Re said airily. “Can we go now, my love?” Re cast his golden eyes on me.

  “I suppose so.” I looked back to Lugh. “Are you satisfied with these answers?”

  “Satisfied?” Lugh huffed. “No, but I'll take my leave anyway. The company here is revolting.”

  “What a lovely visit,” Arawn said to me. “Please come back any time that you wish, Godhunter. Perhaps you could bring your faerie husband next time.”

  “Thank you–” I started to say. But then a horrible feeling swept over me, and I lost my breath. Gasping, I stood and screamed, “Lesya!”

  Chapter Ten

  I couldn't speak anymore, I just ran. I ran as if Hell itself were chasing me towards the tracing point of Annwn. Several hells. The others of my group ran after me. The startled Tuatha dé Danann just stood there in a daze, watching as we rushed by. Once we cleared the castle, Azrael spread his wings, grabbed me around the waist, and took to the sky.

  “What's wrong with Lesya?” Az shouted his question over the wind.

  I just sobbed and clung to him.

  “Carus, what's happened to our daughter?” Azrael shook me.

  “She's gone,” I wept. “I can't feel her anymore.”

  “You can't ...” Azrael put on more speed, and within moments we were tracing away from Annwn, to Hygieia's hospital.

  We stumbled out of the tracing chamber to an empty reception desk. A cacophony of shouting and clanging bells drifted down to us from the hospital wing. As we hurried past the desk, I saw that it wasn't empty, after all. The receptionist, who normally greeted and directed patients, was lying behind the desk with a bleeding wound in her temple. We didn't stop for her; we couldn't. My baby was in danger.

  As we ran through the hallways, a roar shook the building; a sound of rage and pain. Kirill. I sped up, rushing past clinic staff who pulled back against the walls and stared at me in shock. Azrael and I burst into Lesya's hospital room and found Kirill holding Hygieia aloft, roaring into her face. His hands were starting to shift, and his eyes were glowing.

 
“Where's my daughter?” He shouted.

  My eyes went to the corner of the room, where the incubator was lying on its side, its membrane broken, and its magical, blue fluid dripping onto the floor. The fluid was dull now, no magic within it. And no baby either. Lesya was gone.

  “Kirill!” I screamed, and he dropped Hygieia. “Where is she?”

  “Tima,” Kirill wept and rushed into my arms. “Vervain, someone took her. Someone took our baby.”

  “I'm so sorry,” Hygieia cried brokenly. “I don't know how this happened.”

  “What has happened?” Azrael snarled. “Someone needs to give us a direct answer. Where is Lesya?”

  “Someone made it past security and subdued Kirill. They seemed to have cloaked themselves in invisibility and took him unaware.” Panacea, one of Hygieia's sisters, came into the room. She, at least, was calm. “This individual removed Lesya from the incubator and absconded with her. As far as we can tell, Lesya came through the removal process alive, and was taken from here in good health.”

  “In good health?” I shrieked. “That's what you're concerned with–good health?”

  “I only meant to reassure you that your daughter lives,” Panacea said gently. “I'm trying to offer you calm and solace. Think, Godhunter. Your daughter's life is at stake. Calm yourself and think.”

  My chest heaved, rising and falling with fury and fright. My entire body was shaking, running hot and cold with terrified shivers. Beside me, Kirill was in an even worse state, nearly losing his humanity. His face rippled like the surface of a lake as his lion tried to take over. While I tried to find that calm Panacea advised me to reach, my other lovers and Lugh ran into the room. Chaos erupted around me again as the men reacted to the state of the incubator. All the while, I stared at Panacea; a woman who happened to be dating one of my enemies.

  “Where is Hermes?” I asked Panacea, and the room went quiet.

  “What?” Panacea's face shifted from calm to shocked.

  “You heard me,” I snarled and stepped toward her. “Where is your boyfriend? You know; the one who wants me dead. The one that would do anything to get back at me for killing his girlfriend. That Hermes. Can you account for his whereabouts? Well, can you?”