Morrigan

by Laura DeLuca

  “It is not our concern,” he mildly rebuked. “We have our own quest to complete.”

  Morrigan was surprised. “You heard that?”

  “Of course. Lycans have excellent hearing.”

  “Someone is in trouble,” she told him.

  “Yes, and for once, that someone is not you or I.”

  “We can’t just ignore it.”

  Tiarn shook his head. “Leave well enough alone, Morrigan. These woods are strange, and the creatures that inhabit them are apt to play tricks. We should not get involved.”

  Morrigan knew she should listen to him. He had much more experience with this world and the beings that resided in it. Besides, the last thing she wanted to do was start an argument when they had finally come to a good place in their relationship. Try as she might, she couldn’t ignore the beseeching cries.

  “Please, help me!” the mystery woman wept.

  The wails were breaking her heart. Tiarn must have read the sympathy in her face, because he quickly gathered up the water bottles and readied the horse to leave. “That is enough rest for one day. If we continue at this pace on horseback, we should reach the castle before the moon rises on the morrow.”

  The news should have been exciting and even a little frightening. Morrigan had stopped listening. She simply couldn’t ignore the pleas for help any longer. After all, wasn’t it her duty as princess to protect the people of the land? She gradually inched her way deeper into the darkness of the forest. Tiarn didn’t even notice. He was still rambling on about their plans for the night as Morrigan followed the sound of the mysterious voice. The cats hardly lifted their heads and made no move to follow her, which Morrigan decided was proof she was in no danger.

  The crying grew louder and more heart retching with every second, but Morrigan felt disoriented. She didn’t know how long she had walked or which direction she had come from. As she walked deeper into the woods, the trees grew thicker overhead, and the light dwindled and grew dim, until it seemed like twilight even though it was only midday.

  The blanket of fall leaves and twigs crunched under her feet, but she didn’t even consider that the noise might alert someone of her approach. The darkness made it difficult to see, and she should have been worried about finding her way back. She thought of nothing but finding the woman with the musical voice.

  “Help me! Please . . . help me!”

  Finally Morrigan came upon a small clearing, deep in the heart of the woods. It was a perfect circle of open ground, surrounded by ancient trees that guarded their post with magnificent nobility. The branches were as thick as most trunks and intertwined together high above her, forming a canopy of leaves over the clearing. They vibrated with an energy that made her feel small and insignificant. In the center of the circle, Morrigan found the woman she had been searching for. She was in a cage that seemed to be fashioned from various sticks and vines, weaved together to form a small entrapment. The confining space allowed her very little room to move. She was crouched in the middle of the cage, with her head hidden in her lap as she wept pathetically.

  Morrigan was filled with an instant and overwhelming pity. She felt tears slide down her cheeks. She couldn’t walk away from this woman. She had to free her from her prison, no matter what the cost. Instinctively, Morrigan took a step toward the clearing, but before she could go any further, a hand on her shoulder yanked her roughly back into the shadow of the trees. Before she had time to react, her assailant smothered her screams by putting a hand over her mouth.

  “What are you doing, Morrigan?” Tiarn demanded. “Do you wish to walk straight into a trap?”

  The firm tone of his voice brought her back to her senses. She shook her head to clear away some of the cobwebs. She could barely remember how she had gotten there. It was like trying to remember a dream. Nevertheless, even though the strange trance had been broken, it did not deter her from her initial instinct to set the poor creature free.

  “Look at her, Tiarn. We can’t just leave her here like this.”

  “We can and we shall,” he insisted. “It is not our place to interfere with the business of faeries.”

  “What? Faeries?” Morrigan instantly visualized little pixie sized creatures with glittery wings who slept in rose petals.

  “Morrigan, my love, look with your eyes and not your heart. Do you not see? She is not of this world.”

  Morrigan glanced toward the clearing again, and she realized Tiarn was right. She didn’t know how she hadn’t noticed it instantly, but the creature definitely wasn’t human. Her skin was a light shade of brown that almost blended in with the branches of her prison. Her hair cascaded down her back in a thick blanket the color of fresh spring grass. Bright and exotic flowers were interwoven into her curls. Her only clothing was a shimmering white gown that was almost translucent. It shone so brightly, it might have been weaved from moon beams. She was the most beautiful creature Morrigan had ever seen.

  “Faeries are tricksters,” Tiarn continued. “They slip through the veils and tempt you with their beauty and their false promises of eternal life. But those who go with them are never seen again.”

  The faery woman must have overheard them arguing or felt Morrigan’s intense stare, because she ceased her weeping and lifted her head. Her green eyes specked with gold highlights rose and locked with Morrigan’s across the forest floor. The power of that gaze held Morrigan transfixed.

  “Save me,” she pleaded and reached out a slender, beckoning hand. “Save me and I shall grant your every desire.”

  Her voice was no more than a whisper, coming and going with the gentle breeze, yet the words reverberated through the empty forest. Morrigan knew on some level she was trying to enchant her. But the faery didn’t seem evil; she was just scared and alone and maybe a little desperate. It was a feeling Morrigan could relate to and one she couldn’t ignore.

  “I’m getting her out of there,” she told Tiarn.

  Tiarn looked flabbergasted. “What? Do my words fall on deaf ears? Or has she already enchanted you beyond all reason? Do you not understand the danger of approaching that thing?”

  “That thing?” Morrigan turned to him. She spoke sternly, but gently. “Isn’t that the same thing people say when they chase down a lycan? Didn’t we just escape people who wanted us dead for no other reason than for what we are, through no fault of our own? Can you really do the same thing to this poor creature?”

  Tiarn seemed chastised, if not completely convinced. “Damn it all, your gentle heart will be the death of us. Have your way, then, and set the wench free. But do not blame me if she carries you away into the mists.”

  Despite his misgivings, Tiarn followed Morrigan as she stepped from the shadows and into the clearing. The woman was still crouched, but watching every move they made from inside her little cage. Up close, she was even more beautiful than she had seemed from a distance. Though her features were youthful, her eyes held the wisdom of the ages. Morrigan also saw a hint of the mischievousness Tiarn had warned her about. Forest-green eyes studied them as they inched closer to her prison, and Morrigan felt that with just that one glance, the faery knew her better than she knew herself.

  “Please, maiden, set me free!” she beseeched. “An evil sorcerer has imprisoned me. He wishes to steal my immortality. I have been here for a nearly a full moon cycle. He hopes to drive me mad so I will reveal my secrets, but I will not give in to him so easily. I knew you would come to save me.”

  Tiarn was shaking his head. “Tread carefully, Morrigan. Faeries are not known for their honesty.”

  “And lycans are not known for their intelligence!” she hissed in his direction before turning back to Morrigan. “The princess knows I mean her no harm. I wish only for my freedom. A faery is not meant to be caged.”

  Morrigan narrowed her eyes, feeling a little of Tiarn’s nervousness for the first time. “How do you know who we are?”

  “The fey know all and see all.”

  “If you know so much a
nd you’re so powerful, why don’t you just break free?” Morrigan asked, confused and a little wary. “The cage is only made of tree branches. I’m sure you could just break out.”

  “My prison is made from the wood of the rowan tree, which is sacred to my people. I cannot break even a single twig. Even if I could break that taboo, the wizard has enchanted the cage. His evil powers are beyond my simple earth magic. But you can set me free. The powers of a royal witch far exceed that of a simple sorcerer. Free me now, Princess Morrigan, and I will give you anything you desire.”

  Talk of enchantments and sacred trees made Morrigan nervous. She turned to Tiarn for advice, but he only shrugged his shoulders. Morrigan started to reach out and see if the branches would be easy to snap, but then thought better of it. Maybe she would become entwined or somehow magically transported inside. Anything seemed possible when magic was involved.

  She had been making a valiant effort to restrain her powers for fear of attracting the magic hounds. But she had left them far behind, and she hadn’t seen any signs they were pursuing her since their last confrontation. She decided it was a lesser risk to use her powers than get too close to the enchanted prison. She concentrated on the cage, staring at it, visualizing it lifting from the ground. At first, it wouldn’t budge.

  “Do not give up, Princess Morrigan. You must set me free.”

  Again her voice sounded like bells jingling, but it seemed much closer than it actually was. It was as though the faery were whispering in her ear. She could almost feel her translucent lips touching her skin. It sent a strange tingling sensation throughout her body, but it also renewed her willpower.

  Morrigan closed her eyes and tried again. She visualized the cage in her mind. She saw the branches bend and expand, as though magical hands were ripping them asunder. The small tree limbs put up a much greater struggle than she would have imagined. She strained and her breath came in hard pants as she worked to free the faery. Somewhere in the distance, she thought she heard Tiarn as well, but his voice was muffled and far away. Finally, after one last mental thrust that left her weak and dripping with sweat, the cage exploded, sending twigs and vines flying in every direction. Morrigan was so overwhelmed that she would have collapsed to the ground if Tiarn had not caught her on the way down.

  “Morrigan, my love!” Tiarn exclaimed. She held her tightly and wiped the sweat from her forehead. “Are you ill, dear one? Please, speak to me!”

  The moment of dizziness was only temporary, though she still felt weak and drained. She recovered quickly and looked up to see the faery standing over them. She was no taller than Morrigan, yet it seemed as though she towered above them like a mythical giant. A swirl of mist surrounded her. The fey reached out a slender hand, and despite Tiarn’s attempts to restrain her, Morrigan couldn’t resist reaching out to touch her fingers, if only to see if she was truly real and not just the remnants of some long forgotten dream.

  As soon as they made contact, Morrigan was instantly revitalized and filled with a sort of giddy energy that made her feel intoxicated. The faery pulled Morrigan to her feet, leaving Tiarn fuming behind them. With their hands still clasped, Morrigan admired the unearthly beauty of the mystical creature. She was even more ravishing up close then she had been inside the cage, especially now that she no longer wept. She bore a grin of pure and uninhibited glee.

  “My name is Willow,” she whispered, her voice soft and light as a summer’s breeze. “You have set me free, Princess Morrigan. Ask for anything, and if it is in my power, it shall be yours.”

  “I . . . don’t want anything,” Morrigan stuttered. She couldn’t take her eyes off the dazzling faery. She admired her with a craving that was almost sexual. “I just wanted to help.”

  The faery nodded. “I sense your intentions are sincere, Princess. Yet, still, I am in your debt, and a debt must, in good conscious, be repaid. I see a hint of your future in your aura, and there will come a time when you may change your mind and want my help. In your darkest hour, I will return. Until then, I leave you with a kiss.”

  The faery woman reached toward Morrigan and wrapped her in a feminine embrace. Not only her arms, but her silky green hair seemed to move and flow with a life of its own, until Morrigan was completely encircled by it. At first, it was like the tender loving touch of a mother as the faery laid a gentle kiss on her cheek. But then Willow cupped her face and imparted on her a slow and lingering kiss on the mouth. Her lips were soft, her tongue exploring. Morrigan was filled an erotic passion unlike anything she had ever known. She leaned forward, hoping the kiss wouldn’t end. As soon as she allowed herself to completely surrender, the faery was gone, leaving only a cloud of mist behind her.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  It took quite a while for the swooning effect to wear off. Morrigan’s face was flushed and her hands still trembled even though close to half an hour had passed. She imagined an encounter with a succubus couldn’t have been any more sensual. Tiarn was quiet after the incident, and it seemed like he might be a little jealous. Morrigan couldn’t figure out whether it was the fact that Willow kissed her or because the beautiful and exotic creature hadn’t kissed him that made him so envious. Either way, he was very grumpy as they made their way back to their animal companions.

  Despite his foul mood, Morrigan was glad Tiarn had followed her. She hadn’t realized how deeply she had wandered into the forest. There were so many twists and turns, she wasn’t sure how she had found her way to the faery in the first place. The path back was an endless maze of thorny branches and towering trees that seemed to reach as high as skyscrapers. Without Tiarn guiding them and relying on his enhanced sense of smell to assist, they never would have found their way back to the stream.

  When they finally reached the water’s edge, Danu and Dagda were still curled up into one giant ball of fur. They were sleeping so soundly, she was certain she heard at least one of them snoring. It seemed odd they hadn’t followed her into the forest when she went to help the faery. They had stayed so close to her for most of their travels, she wondered why her Guardians had left her to fend for herself for the first time.

  Tiarn seemed to read her mind. “Guardians are not allowed to interfere with the faery creatures. They know the fey cannot harm you unless you give yourself to them freely. There are many things they can protect you from, Princess, but they can and will not save you from your own foolishness.”

  Morrigan was annoyed by his attitude. “What are you so upset about? Nothing happened.”

  “Nothing happened?” He shook his head. “A faery has made a promise to return for you. Do you know what that means, Morrigan? At any time, she could whisk you away into the mists!” She flinched, and he softened his voice. “I do not mean to sound harsh, but I could not bear to lose you, my love.”

  Morrigan felt her heart soften. She smiled and gave his arm a playful punch. “You have nothing to worry about, Tiarn. The faery has nothing that would make me turn my back on you.”

  Tiarn still seemed forlorn. “She said she would come in your darkest hour. There may well come a time in your life when her offer will seem more appealing. With our future still so unsure, how can you vow it will not be so?”

  “My darkest hour?” Morrigan rolled her eyes. “Humph. When will that be? When you’re an old man with false teeth . . . umm, I mean fangs and a big pot belly? Even then, I wouldn’t be tempted to run off to faery land.”

  He gave her a halfhearted smile that hardly touched his eyes. “You make jests, but you have no idea what horrors you have yet to face. Morrigan, I fear for you.” He pulled her into his arms and squeezed her so tightly she had difficulty breathing. “I fear not for your life, as much as for your sweet and gentle soul. You shine with such goodness, such untouched innocence. I would die before I would see that light in you extinguished.”

  “What’s this morbid talk all about? Tomorrow we’ll be at the castle. We’ll free my mother and we’ll all live happily ever after, right? Isn’t that how all th
e fairytales are supposed to end?”

  “You think your journey is ending, when really it is has just begun.” He released his grip on her and tied their equipment to the back of the horse as best he could without a saddle. It took forever for him to speak again, and when he finally did, his eyes were downcast. “We shall reach the castle on the morrow, and you shall at last greet your mother. But I fear she is not all you imagine. She may not be as perfect as you would like her to be.”

  Something in his voice made her nervous. It wasn’t just the doom and gloom. She had the distinct feeling he knew more than he was telling her. She watched him with a wary eye as he jumped up onto the back of the horse, but tried to keep the conversation light.

  “She’s my mother. I’m a teenager,” Morrigan replied with a careless waive of her hand. “I’m sure I’ll find lots of reasons to hate her.” She started to laugh, but the serious look on Tiarn’s face stopped her. “Seriously, Tiarn. No one is perfect. I’m sure she’s not an angel, but at least she’s the good guy, right?”

  Tiarn sighed and reached down to help her mount. “As Alden said, there are some things you must discover on your own. For now, I do not wish to argue or speak of the future. This may well be our last night together. I want to remember your sweet smile and the joy of being in your arms.”

  They left it at that and rode away from the stream. Though Morrigan had many unspoken questions, she agreed there would be plenty of time to address them later. This night, she wanted to enjoy their time alone.

  Tiarn was nervous that Willow would return or that the soldiers might be following, so he wanted to travel as far as possible before the sun set. They kept the pace at a slow gallop so the cats would be able to keep up without exhausting themselves. They continued on that way until nightfall made it too difficult to weave the horse through the unkempt paths of the forest.