The Raven Queen

by Che Golden

  This time the effect was electric. The figure in the bed sat up and her wings flew out to the sides, stretching to their full length and sweeping them all off their feet. Her veil was sucked back against her face as she dragged air into her lungs, and as she reached out to a bedpost for support Maddy saw that the nails on her hands were curled into little black spirals too, just like those on her toes.

  As her wings beat the air, sending up clouds of dust, the veiled face turned to look at Fachtna, who was crawling through the bones to prostrate herself at the Morrighan’s feet, her forehead touching the ground, her wings folded tightly against her back and her arms outstretched.

  ‘Fachtna,’ she said, in a voice that sounded like three people talking simultaneously – the high tones of a young girl, the deeper ones of a mother, and the cracked voice of an old lady. ‘My captain.’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ‘My favourite has returned to me,’ said the Morrighan, bending down to cradle Fachtna’s pointed face in her hands. ‘You were always so pretty, but war has made you beautiful.’

  ‘My queen,’ said Fachtna, looking up at the Morrighan. Maddy was horrified to see tears, actual tears, rolling down the faerie’s mottled face. Maddy didn’t even realize Fachtna could cry. ‘I have missed you.’

  ‘And yet you did not love me enough to stay,’ said the Morrighan. ‘You left when the rest of my court stayed to watch over me. You deserted your post and abased yourself by serving one who had only risen high by my hand.’

  Maddy looked around the dusty, rotten room, with its carpet of bones. Yeah, because you’d be mad to leave all this, she thought.

  Fachtna grovelled with her face to the ground again. ‘Forgive me, my queen,’ she rasped. ‘I was weak. I craved the sunlight and the wind on my skin. I craved the excitement and the glory of battle and I longed for the taste of blood on my lips.’ She looked up at the Morrighan, who cocked her veiled head toward her. ‘But Tír na nÓg is in turmoil once more and I have returned to you, to fight again by your side.’

  ‘Ah, but you do it for your own selfish reasons,’ said the Morrighan. Fachtna looked up at her, her eyes widening in confusion. ‘I have been asleep, child, not dead. I still know what happens in my realm and I can still see into the heart of my former captain. Robe.’

  Fachtna sprang up and picked up a black velvet robe that had been lying at the foot of the bed. She held it out to the Morrighan, who slipped it over her naked body, her wings stretching out so they could slip through wide slits slashed through the back of the garment. It had a small, high collar and wide sleeves, and fell away from the Morrighan’s shoulders in a straight line to her ankles. It was covered in silver embroidery depicting dragons much like the carved ones that guarded the door to this place. Little clouds of dust puffed into the air as she moved but the Raven Queen continued to glow in the moonlight.

  Fachtna was still standing behind her, smoothing the fabric over her neck and back when the Morrighan said, ‘You come to me now, Fachtna, because you have grown greedy with your new queen. You no longer think of how you can serve, but rather what you can gain. And as your new mistress dooms herself with her madness, your hungry eyes are cast upon her crown. You have forgotten your place.’ Behind her Fachtna froze, her face a mask of despair. ‘You are a good servant, Fachtna, but you would be a terrible monarch. Be content with what you have and look no further. I have already raised an outsider to a throne, and look at the harm she has done. I will let no other assume a Tuatha’s place in this world.’

  Fachtna looked at Maddy, her eyes burning with anger. Maddy felt her heart sink. There would be no deal, no protection. And now the Morrighan was awake, Maddy could only hope the coming battle would go her way and they could all go home alive.

  ‘You have brought me a Hound,’ said the Morrighan, her veiled head swinging toward Maddy. Maddy felt Danny and Roisin tense beside her. ‘How the smell of a hero’s blood fills the room.’ The Morrighan continued, walking toward them, her spiralled toenails snapping off as she moved down the steps of the dais. She leaned down to Maddy, her wings spreading, casting a shadow over all four of them. Nero laid his ears back and cringed as the Morrighan’s head drew closer. ‘I do not know how to feel, having a young Hound in my hall. Do you know the trouble your kind has caused me? And yet I see the bonds that bind you. Why does Meabh want a Hound in her court? Why does she extend her protection over you?’

  Maddy swallowed as the Morrighan cocked her head to the left and to the right. After a couple of tense moments and an elbow in her side from Roisin she realized the faerie was looking for an answer.

  ‘I… I don’t know,’ she said. ‘She says she wants me to run for her.’

  The Morrighan leaned closer and brought her huge hand up to Maddy face, stroking her cheek with the pads of her fingers. ‘But where does she want you to run to, little Hound? That is the right question.’

  Maddy looked at her, her mind blank. Then a bright light flared through the windows and illuminated the hall as if it were day.

  ‘Ah, now come the rest of my greedy kin,’ said the Morrighan. ‘Fachtna, attend me.’

  Fachtna crossed the room and hefted a heavy carved chair into her arms. She carried it to the foot of the dais and beat at its velvet seat with her hand to clean some of the dust from it. The Morrighan seated herself, her clawed hands resting on armrests shaped as a lion’s paws, her back straight and proud. They waited, listening to the sounds of booted feet on the stairs outside. The heavy stone door swung open and Tuatha guards filed in, dressed in the green and silver livery of the Spring Court. They were helmeted and armed for war, every one with their hand on the hilt of a sword belted around their waist. Butterflies fluttered into the room as the light that radiated from the Spring King and Queen began to filter through the doorway. They flew and skipped in the miserable tomb, the jewel-coloured wings bringing flashes of life to the shadows. Maddy drew in her breath as the light became stronger and then Queen Sorcha and King Nuada walked toward the Morrighan, Sorcha’s hand resting on her husband’s arm.

  They were so beautiful. Sorcha’s long blonde hair almost reached the ground, straight and fine as water; it hung in glossy curtains around her face, kept back from her eyes with a gold circlet. Her eyes were a violet blue, her lips a warm cherry red, and butterflies flitted all around her, stroking her skin adoringly with their soft wings to leave streaks of glittering pollen on her face and neck. Her simple white dress was bound at the waist with a golden belt and embroidered with birds and animals. Nuada, her husband, could have been her twin, with his thick blond hair curling to his shoulders and his dark blue eyes. They walked with their backs straight, their faces cold and proud. The glow of spring that radiated from their bodies brought colour and freshness back to the hall, showing what it had been like before the Morrighan lay down for her centuries-long sleep and it rotted all around her.

  Maddy craned her neck to look up into Sorcha’s beautiful face as she swept past, herself and her husband inhumanly tall and regal. But even though she loved to look at the Spring Queen, instinct still made her step back into the few shadows that still lingered in the hall. Danny, Roisin and Nero crept after her. They had not forgotten how much Sorcha hated humans and the Hound most of all. Sorcha had wanted Maddy killed as soon as the Tuatha had found out she was the new Hound. She had been furious when she discovered Meabh had taken her into the Autumn Court.

  Next came Meabh’s Tuatha soldiers in their red and black livery. Maddy smiled to herself as she imagined the argument that must have taken place on those narrow stone steps over who should walk up them first. She was surprised that Meabh, a consummate politician, had lost. Perhaps her soldiers simply hadn’t rowed fast enough?

  Meabh’s light was more subtle, a shifting flicker of candlelight that mingled with the scent of rain. Having lost two husbands in mysterious circumstances, she walked without a consort, only the Pooka, pressed close to her side as usual. The storm hags scuttled in her wake, trying not to
step on the tangled red hair that dragged like a train on the ground. Her golden circlet was studded with rubies and she looked around the hall with an amused expression on her face. The soldiers from her court lined up on the opposite side of the hall to Sorcha’s, Autumn Tuatha jostling Maddy, Danny, Roisin and Nero deeper into the shadows. The three monarchs went to stand before the Morrighan and bowed deeply from the waist.

  ‘The Spring Court rejoices to see you awake, Great Queen,’ said King Nuada. ‘The joy of your awakening ripples through Tír na nÓg and brings your subjects to your side to feast their eyes upon your countenance —’

  The Morrighan gave a hiss of irritation and a twitch of her shoulders at the Spring King’s elaborate speech. Nuada stuttered and trailed off into an embarrassed silence.

  ‘We knew you would not desert us in our hour of need,’ said Sorcha simply.

  ‘Need?’ said the Morrighan. ‘I find that a strange way to describe the situation, Sorcha. It seems that once again I have been awoken to sort out the petty squabbles of monarchs, monarchs who cannot be happy with the powers and the territories that I have gifted them.’

  ‘In our defence, Great Queen, this war has been forced upon us by one who is not a Tuatha—’ said Sorcha.

  ‘And yet raised to a crown by me,’ interrupted the Morrighan. ‘Are you daring to suggest that the coming war has been caused by me because I did something… foolish?’

  Sorcha’s pale cheeks flushed. ‘I would never dare to suggest such a thing.’

  ‘But yet, you think it?’ asked the Morrighan, an edge to her layered voice.

  ‘No, my queen!’ said Sorcha.

  ‘I think what my dear sister is trying to say,’ said Meabh, her voice oozing honey, ‘is that the experiment of allowing an outsider to rise to high estate in our world in the interests of keeping balance has failed. Liadan has proved to be too unstable, too mentally and physically feeble, to carry the responsibilities of a Tuatha crown. It is time to put an end to her reign and to consider anew the best way to keep peace between us all.’

  The Morrighan sat back in her chair. ‘I agree. What do you think, my beautiful and clever witch queen, is the best way to do that?’

  ‘Bestow the Winter crown on a Tuatha, as it should have been all along,’ said Meabh. Sorcha and Nuada both gave a scornful bark of laughter, but the Morrighan silenced them by holding up one hand. Her face was still turned toward Meabh.

  ‘Do you have anyone in mind?’ she asked.

  ‘I think that the crown would best come to Autumn,’ said Meabh. ‘I think I am the strongest of the monarchs and best able to lead two courts.’

  ‘It should go to my husband!’ said Sorcha. ‘He could become King of Winter while I rule Spring and that way balance is restored.’

  Meabh laughed. ‘Please, Sorcha, do not pretend your husband has a mind of his own. Everyone knows he does exactly what you say and how tight his leash is. Giving the Winter crown to Nuada would be no better than giving it to you. And frankly it would be wasted on you.’

  ‘You dare to insult me …’ began Nuada, his face going red with anger, but the Morrighan interrupted him as if he hadn’t spoken. ‘And why would it not be wasted on you, Meabh?’

  Meabh drew herself up to her full height, all seven feet. ‘Tír na nÓg must move on, it must evolve,’ she said. ‘Things have remained static for too long. We must be brave and reach out into new territories, and that will take a strong ruler if you are to return to your sleep. One ruler, with a single purpose, not swayed by the influence of a spouse.’

  ‘Meabh, you have schemed for this for so long, your motives are transparent,’ said the Morrighan. ‘By new territories, you mean old ones, the mortal world. By evolve, you mean step back into the past. No Tuatha will return there to rule as long as I am High Queen. We made a pact with the mortal world when they drove us beneath the mounds – access to their nightmares and dreams for the nourishment of faeries and the maintenance of Tír na nÓg, in return for peace.’

  ‘With respect, my queen, the mortal world has changed—’ said Meabh.

  ‘The treaty with the humans holds as long as I am High Queen,’ said the Morrighan. ‘My purpose is to keep my people safe and this I have done for centuries. So unless you wish to challenge my right to … rule?’ The Morrighan let the question hang in the air. Sorcha and Nuada looked at Meabh and every soldier in the hall bristled as they waited for Meabh’s response.

  Meabh bowed from the waist. ‘Of course not, my queen. You have my allegiance, as always.’ The entire hall seemed to relax and let out a silent sigh of relief.

  ‘Then drop this foolish notion of invading the mortal world,’ said the Morrighan. ‘Your throne in Connacht is gone, Meabh, and you cannot return to the past. So cut that Hound loose. I know you intended to use her against her own people, to dishearten the Sighted by seeing their own Hound come against them on the side of a Tuatha. So either let the Hound run home or kill her. She is neither use nor ornament to us.’

  Maddy shivered with fear as she watched Meabh bow again, with not a hint of protest on her lips. She would never have helped the Tuatha back into the mortal world, but now she and her cousins and poor Nero were alone and friendless in a hall with five hundred Tuatha.

  ‘Where is your sister?’ the Morrighan asked. ‘Where is the Queen of Summer and her king? Do Niamh and Aengus Óg not long for Winter’s crown? Even if they harbour no ambitions in their breast, why do they not come and pay homage to their High Queen?’

  ‘We know not, my queen,’ said Sorcha, while Meabh remained silent.

  The Morrighan gave a hiss of anger. ‘Very well. We shall have a council of war and decide what is to be done about Liadan. I assume my brother Cernunnos finds himself obliged to lead her troops?’

  ‘He does,’ said Nuada.

  The Morrighan shook her head. ‘An ill-advised marriage. But he was so keen to settle all peacefully. Come.’

  And with that, the Morrighan stood and swept from the hall, the soldier Tuatha bowing to her as she passed, the other monarchs trailing in her wake. Maddy kept her eyes on them as they bowed, waiting to see if now would be a good time for them to slip away.

  Then she felt a hand clamp over her mouth.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Maddy kicked and struggled as an arm wrapped around her chest and lifted her off her feet. She found herself being dragged behind one of the rotting, dusty tapestries that concealed a narrow, claustrophobic stairwell, lit dimly by torches that smoked greasily. She heard a yammering shriek from Nero and then an ominous silence, followed by more banging and scuffling. She was set down on the stairs and held by the neck of her jacket instead, dragged along as if she were a kitten.

  As her feet slipped and stumbled on the stairs, Maddy twisted to look over her shoulder and glared at the granite-faced Tuatha who had her tight in his grip. It was hard to see who was behind her as the stairwell turned in a tight spiral, but she caught a glimpse of Roisin’s white, tear-streaked face before she was whisked around another bend.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she asked the Tuatha. ‘Where are you taking me?’ But in answer he simply shook her so hard it made her teeth ache and she was convinced she felt her brain knock against the back of her eyes. Still the Tuatha dragged her without a sound, up and up and up, until she was so tired she seriously considered just letting her feet dangle and leaving the Tuatha to do all the work. There were no windows, nothing that could tell her where she was in the castle, just grey stone that wept with damp, even on a summer night. But as they carried on climbing Maddy guessed they must be in the tall, narrow tower that emerged from the middle of the castle.

  After what seemed like an eternity, the stairs finally stopped at the threshold of a small wooden door, arched and bound with bronze. The Tuatha knocked and Maddy heard a woman’s voice telling them to come in.

  The room had bare stone walls and flagstone floors. A small window punched through the four-foot walls gave a glimpse of the night sky beyond.
There was no furniture, no tapestries, not a shred of cloth or colour to soften the place. A woman stood looking out of the window. She was another Tuatha, judging by her height, and she was dressed from head to foot in a pale blue velvet cloak. As Maddy was dragged into the room she had a horrible feeling that she knew who she was looking at. But it was only when a yellow and white butterfly escaped the folds of velvet and came fluttering over to her that she knew. As Maddy was thrown to the floor the Tuatha turned and pushed the velvet hood back with long white hands laden with rings.

  She could have been Sorcha’s twin except her hair tumbled down in curls and her face had an open, innocent look, in stark contrast to Sorcha’s stern intelligence. Like the Queen of Spring, the Summer Queen had her own retinue of butterflies that fluttered in the confines of her cloak, bathing in the golden light of summer that radiated from her body. In her simple blue dress she looked like an angel, albeit an angel who liked a lot of jewellery. Maddy had always thought she was a bubble-head – vain and self-obsessed. But there was a cunning look in her blue eyes that she had not seen before and it made Maddy’s skin prickle with unease.

  ‘Maddy, how good to see you again,’ Niamh cooed, her voice as sweet as the high notes of a violin. Danny and Roisin were dragged in behind her and shoved against the wall. ‘Tie those two up,’ Niamh commanded. ‘I don’t want them interfering.’

  Another guard in Autumn livery walked in with Nero’s still body in his arms.

  ‘What happened to him?’ asked Maddy.

  ‘They knocked him out,’ said Danny as his arms were yanked behind his back and tied with rope. Roisin was weeping silently, her head bowed as she was trussed up like a Christmas turkey.

  ‘Why would you hurt him?’ Maddy asked Niamh.