by Laura DeLuca
Morrigan fought back angry tears. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much his words tore her heart apart. “If that’s true, then why didn’t you tell me everything as soon as you realized you cared about me? How could you bring me here and let me help them? You had to know what it would do to me when I learned the truth! Or did you just think I was such an idiot that I would never figure it out?”
“Oh, Morrigan, if only that had been possible!” Tiarn looked as though he wanted to weep as well. “If Hecate did not hold such power over me . . . .” He paused. “I wish there was a way I could make you understand why I behaved as I did.”
“Oh, I understand it all right.” Morrigan said bitterly. “Your precious freedom was all that you cared about! I was just collateral damage.”
“No, Morrigan! Never! Hecate—”
“Oh, just shut up, Tiarn!” Morrigan interrupted. “I’ve heard enough. You made your own choices. You can’t blame everything on Hecate, no matter how horrible she might be!”
“But Morrigan . . . .”
“No! I said SHUT UP!”
Morrigan exploded and with that eruption of emotion, the castle walls shook. Paintings fell. The ground trembled beneath their feet. The terrified maids backed into a corner, their hands pressed against their mouths to stifle their screams, probably worried their cries might turn her fury onto them. Morrigan realized she was losing control, and she had promised herself she would never let that happen again. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves before she continued.
“There really isn’t anything else left to say,” she told him in a much softer voice. “I think it would be best if you just left the castle. No one wants you here anymore, least of all me.”
He shook his head. “I cannot leave you here alone. It is not safe.”
Morrigan sighed. “I don’t need you to protect me, Tiarn. It’s not your job anymore.”
“Still, I will not go. I must make you see the truth. I must make you believe my feelings for you are sincere.”
Tiarn reached out a hand to touch her arm, but her hurt and anger had not completely surrendered their control. She didn’t want to hear his explanations. She didn’t even want him near her. In an instant, she lost the careful grip on her emotions and her powers took control. The unspoken desire was granted, and Tiarn went flying backward across the hall, landing with a crash into a suit of arms. Yet, it did not deter him. He struggled to his feet and started to move toward her again. His persistence only infuriated Morrigan all the more.
“Danu, Dagda, get ready to attack!”
Behind them, one of the maids dropped her tray and screamed when the cats transformed. They had never liked Tiarn and were more than happy to let him know it. Morrigan should have trusted their animal instincts. The pair snarled at Tiarn. He took a few steps back, but still looked dumbfounded.
“You would treat me as an enemy? After all that we have been through?”
“You are the enemy! And everything we went through was a lie! I should have left you to die in that forest.” He flinched, but she didn’t care. “Now leave the castle, Tiarn. Or I swear I’ll have the cats rip you to pieces.”
He crossed his arms like a defiant child. “I do not believe you would do it.”
“Oh yeah? Are you sure that’s a bet you want to take?” She paused for just a moment and sneered. “After all, you’re nothing but a baby killer.”
She saw him shatter, though he didn’t speak or shed a tear. The pain of her words still glazed his emerald green eyes. Tiarn took a tentative step toward her, but thought better of it when the cats showed their long, sharp teeth. Finally, looking utterly beaten, he turned his head and walked away without another word.
Morrigan was left alone in the hall, except for the idiot maids who were still trembling in their corner. She ignored them and stomped back to her bed chamber. She hated that she had to stay in the castle, but where else could she go? She had no other home in Tír na NÓg, and besides, she imagined her mother had made arrangements to keep her from escaping. After all, they needed her until after the big ritual they kept talking about.
Once she was safely inside her room, Morrigan bolted it shut from the inside. She moved from the chairs to the bed, trying to get comfortable and trying even harder to still the dizzying thoughts that tormented her. With her anger spent, she felt defeated. The fire, which had seemed cozy before, made the room stifling. She noticed there was a second set of doors that led to a small balcony. She flung them open and enjoyed the cool, crisp air against her burning cheeks.
The view from the balcony revealed a picturesque landscape of lush green hills and valleys. A beautiful patchwork of cottages and temples dotted the countryside, reaching as far as she could see. She stood there for a long time, admiring the vast beauty and trying to forget the reason she was there. After a while, she was distracted by the sound of the main drawbridge being lowered. A few seconds later, a lone man on horseback rode through the gates at a full gallop. Even before she saw the long dreadlocks blowing in the wind, she knew it was Tiarn. She should have been glad. After all, she had demanded he leave. Yet, seeing him flee without a backward glance was a little more than she could stand. Her strong exterior shattered, Morrigan fell to her knees and wept.
Never in her life had she felt so desperate and heartbroken. She had left all she knew to find her long lost mother, and all she found was a monster. Ceridwyn had even killed her father, if Alden’s story was true. As if the betrayal of her own mother were not devastating enough, she had given her heart to a man who had used her. She had been lied to and betrayed by the only people who had ever claimed to love her. Now she was alone in a foreign world. Even Danu and Dagda could offer her no comfort. She pushed them away when they tried to nuzzle her chin and collapsed onto the floor of the balcony. She cried so hard she thought she might be ill. She felt like an orphan all over again. A part of her wished she was strong enough to take her own life, forever putting Ceridwyn’s dark plans to an end.
“This, Princess Morrigan, is truly your darkest hour.”
Startled, Morrigan jerked around. She had thought she was alone; the door remained bolted. Even though her eyes were bloodshot and swollen from crying, she could see a woman with a cloud of mist at her feet watching from the shadows.
“Who . . . who’s there?” Morrigan asked, more curious than afraid.
The woman stepped into the light, and Morrigan immediately recognized her. The faery had sworn to return when her need was the greatest, and Willow had kept her promise.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Willow smiled sadly at Morrigan as she took in her tear-streaked cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. “Poor little princess. What horrors you will face if you stay in this castle with your evil mother. Luckily, there is another way.” She reached out a delicate hand. “Come with me. Become my sister, and you shall live forever. You will spend the rest of eternity happy and carefree.”
A swirl of white mists surrounded her as the faery floated toward Morrigan. The same mists she had used as her portal to and from the mortal world had carried her through time and space to join Morrigan in her bedchamber. It seemed as though she were gliding on a cloud as she crossed the balcony. Morrigan watched her with a wary eye. The Moon Card had told her to proceed with caution, but she had foolishly ignored its warnings. She had to wonder what sinister plans might be hiding underneath the faery’s innocent façade.
Willow sensed her apprehension. “You have no reason to fear me, Princess Morrigan. I mean you no harm. I come only to return a boon. You saved me from my prison. Now you yourself are trapped in a prison of sorts. I have come to offer you freedom. You have nowhere else to go. There is no one else in all the worlds who you can turn to. All the people in Tír na NÓg will dread and fear the daughter of Ceridwyn, and the land from whence you came has always shunned you. I, Willow the Fey, am your only salvation.”
Morrigan cast her eyes away, unwilling to admit Willow
was right. She wished the faery would leave her to her misery. Willow seemed to have no intention of forgetting her promise. Instead, she inched her way closer. When she was finally at Morrigan’s side, she knelt beside her and cupped her face in her hands. She kissed her delicately upon her lips. It was filled with none of the deep passion of their first encounter, but still left Morrigan feeling a little weak in the knees.
“You need not despair,” the faery whispered as she stroked her hair. Then she stood and reached out a slender brown hand. “Come with me, and you will find peace. You will be immortal, and the cares of this world will no longer plague you. In time, you will not even remember you had once been one of them. Come, heal your heart and free your soul. Just look at what beauty and magic awaits you in the world of the fey.”
Even before Morrigan’s lips had stopped tingling from the kiss, a feeling of vertigo accosted her. The room seemed to swirl and shift. When the world finally stopped swaying, the doorway that led inside her room had vanished. Through a thin veil of smoky fog, Morrigan saw her balcony led to a beautiful forest blooming with fresh wild flowers.
In a small clearing a group of faeries danced in a ring, some men and some women. They all had the same translucent brown skin and lush green hair as Willow, and each was dressed in little more than a blanket of leaves. Some of them laughed and danced around the trees. Some of them plaited fresh flowers into their hair. They were all as happy and carefree as children playing on a lazy summer’s day. Morrigan longed for that kind of simple happiness. She longed for the throbbing pain in her heart to cease its relentless beat. Tiarn’s warnings to never trust the fey were ringing in her head. Without taking the time to consider the risks involved, she took Willow’s offered hand and stepped through the swirling mist.
As soon as she crossed the threshold, the fog cleared, and the full landscape of the fey world was revealed in all its indescribable beauty. It instantly filled her heart with warmth. It was a land untouched by man with no buildings or debris to mar its perfection. A land where the earth and the sky were the only home its inhabitants needed. Ancient trees towered over them, ripe with fresh fruit. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and the sun beat down at just the right temperature. In the distance she could see a large crystal lake that sparkled like liquid diamonds, with more faeries enjoying a late afternoon swim. Even the gentle wind was like a cradling embrace. It was truly paradise.
Morrigan barely had time to appreciate the delicate beauty before she was surrounded by a swarm of smiling faces. The faeries hugged and greeted her like family. Each one was more beautiful than the next. The women were perfectly proportioned with lush, thick tresses, and the men well-toned and muscular. She noticed there were no children among them, though in many ways they acted very childlike themselves.
One of the men took out a small flute made from a hollowed branch, while another strummed a lute fashioned from wood and vines. A few of the women tried to coax Morrigan out into a clearing to dance with them, but the song reminded her of when Tiarn had played his panpipe. The brief moment of happiness passed as the memories surfaced. She felt a single tear sneak down her cheek when she had been sure the well had run dry. Willow saw the tear and wiped it from her cheek with the tip of her finger.
“Do not weep, my sister. This is a place of joy. Come.” She took Morrigan’s hand and guided her to a small fruit tree. With a graceful flick of her arm, she plucked a piece of fruit from the branches. “This is the food of the immortals. Take but one bite, and you will become one of us forever. You will forget all of your pain and know only ecstasy.”
Willow broke the fruit in two and handed one half to Morrigan. It looked succulent. The outer shell was green while the interior was a bright red filled with small seeds. The inside looked similar to a pomegranate, though the color was bolder and the scent much sweeter. As the intoxicating aroma drifted up, her mouth began to water.
Morrigan suddenly realized she was famished. She had eaten very little in the last few days. Though her stomach rumbled as she admired nature’s delicacy, it was the promise within it that held the greatest temptation. Just one bite and she would never grow old. She would never know death or the fear that came with it. The thought of losing her past seemed an even greater blessing than eternal life. She longed to forget all she had struggled through as she sought her real mother, only to discover she was the spawn of an evil woman. Perhaps most tempting of all—to forget the man she had dreamed of all her life and whom she had been so sure was her soul mate. That same man had torn her heart to pieces with his betrayal. Just one bite, and all that pain, all that despair would vanish. How could she resist? Morrigan lifted the forbidden fruit.
Beside her, Willow nodded eagerly. “That’s right. Do it, Morrigan. Take a bite and let go of your pain. Let it go and be free to soar!”
“Yes,” Morrigan whispered. “I just want to be free. I don’t want to hurt anymore.”
“Just one bite. That is all it will take,” Willow encouraged her.
Around them, the other faeries had fallen into silence. Soon Morrigan would be one of them, and they were waiting expectantly for her to join them in their never-ending games. Having an audience made her nervous. Her hand trembled as the fruit came closer to her lips. She felt the sticky juice dripping onto her fingers. It was so close that the seeds tickled her nose. As her hand rose higher, she noticed that her skin had begun to take on the darker hue of the faeries. She was becoming one of them.
“Yes!” Willow chanted. “Yes. Eat the fruit! Become our sister!”
Willow’s warm breath was so close to her neck that shivers ran down her spine. It brought back that strange feeling of desire. The intoxicating scent of the fruit only added to her euphoria. She closed her eyes and prepared to embrace it. Just as she was on the verge of giving into temptation, an image of Alden popped unbidden into her mind. Not the wise, gentle Alden who had shared his home and his memories, but a beaten and broken old man, taking his final breaths in a pile of filth on a dungeon floor.
The image faded and another took its place. She saw Brigid, the wise elder, standing in line at the gallows after being convicted of treason. She saw Condon the Gatekeeper, half-starved and chained, forced to open the portal whenever the queen beckoned. She saw the little family she had admired in the village, standing with tears in their eyes as they watched their home burn to the ground. Scenes of murder and despair flashed before her eyes. The visions horrified her; Morrigan instantly fell to her knees and let out a heart wrenching cry. This was the world that was in the making if she were to turn her back on Tír na NÓg. This was what would happen if she gave into her own selfish desires for freedom.
Morrigan looked down in repulsion at the fruit which she still clung to. The seeds suddenly reminded her of squirming maggots. She flung it away in disgust and watched with relief as her hand instantly returned to its normal pigment. As she struggled to her feet, she saw Willow beside her. The gentle seduction and sweet smile had faded, replaced by an outrage that twisted her beautiful face into a hideous scowl.
“You ungrateful witch!” Her voice boomed, and she suddenly seemed to tower over Morrigan. “You would refuse my gift? Do you know what others would pay to be in your place?”
“I . . . I’m sorry,” Morrigan stuttered, still shaken by what she had seen in her glimpse of the future as well as the unbridled anger of the faery. “But as nice as it sounds, I just can’t take you up on your offer. I have to go back to Tír na NÓg.”
Willow seemed stunned. “How can you turn down such bounty? No mortal has ever come into the mists and walked away. What do you think you will find if you return? There is only death and grief waiting for you there.”
“Listen, it’s not that I don’t appreciate what you’re trying to do for me. But I just can’t run off like this. My people need me!”
Willow snorted. “Your people? Need you? You are nothing but a little girl from a foreign world who is already hated and feared because the blood of Cer
idwyn is putrefying your veins. What can you possibly do to help your people?”
Despite the sarcasm and the fact that she was surrounded by a sea of angry brown faces, Morrigan stood firm. “I don’t know what I’m going to do yet. But I have to try to do something. I can’t let my mother hurt any more innocent people. Not if there is any chance I can stop her.”
“You realize you could die trying to save these people who care nothing for you? Even assuming you could somehow succeed, you will eventually wither and grow old. You will lose your beauty. You will watch loved ones die. There will always be great suffering in your wake because such is the lot of mortals.”
“But there can also be happiness,” Morrigan argued. “There can be love. There can be families. Even if I don’t have those things right now, I know I can find them. I’ve struggled all my life, but those struggles have made me the woman I am today. A strong woman and a powerful witch. I am proud of who I am and don’t want to forget it. As hard as things are right now, I know I can get through it because I have a cause that’s worth fighting for. My life may not be perfect, but it’s a life worth living. And if I have to die, at least this way, I know it won’t be in vain. At least I’ll go out fighting for what I believe in.”
Just as she finished her speech, Morrigan saw that Willow was raising her hands. She flinched and backed away, afraid the faery might strike her. She had no idea how powerful the fey might be, or if her own magic would even work in this land of enchantment. Though she had felt strong and brave a moment before, she wondered how she could possibly fight off a whole band of immortals.
Instead of striking her, Willow broke into a wide smile. She even started to clap her hands together. At her queue, the rest of the somber faces vanished into laughter and applause as well. Even as the sound reached a crescendo, their audience grew dim and began to fade. Again Morrigan had that strange sensation of moving though she was standing completely still. She blinked a few times to clear her head, and when she looked up again, the faeries and the woods had vanished. She was back in her room feeling startled and dumbfounded.
