Morrigan

by Laura DeLuca

  It didn’t take long for Morrigan to locate Arianrhod. She had been shown none of the respect her station decreed. Instead of a fancy cell with a soft bed, her aunt had been tossed in among beggars and thieves in a filthy sty. The area smelled so strongly of human excrement that Morrigan had to cover her nose to keep from gagging. Inside the cell, Arianrhod had curled up into a ball in the corner. She was attempting, without much success, to get some sleep, while her roommates, two lice-infested women with less than half their wits between them, sat in the opposite corner, alternately drooling and babbling. Morrigan knew she had to be cautious since Arianrhod would undoubtedly see her as the enemy. As she got closer, she could sense the magic that provided a much more powerful barricade than prison bars. She knew there was no way she would be able to break the spell alone; she was already weak from using her magic to free her mother.

  Arianrhod noticed her almost immediately. She sat up in her cell and gave Morrigan a sad half smile. Even in the dungeon in a torn gown and with dirt streaked cheeks, Arianrhod was beautiful. Her wavy hair was perched atop her head like a golden halo, and her crystal blue eyes, though strong and firm, seemed filled with endless patience. She radiated strength, peace, and goodness. Morrigan was furious with herself for not seeing it before it was too late. She had let her desire for her mother’s affection blind her to everything else, and now the rightful queen was imprisoned.

  “Hello, Morrigan,” she whispered. “I had not expected to greet my sister’s daughter again so soon. To what do I owe this unexpected honor?”

  Morrigan turned to see how close they were to prying ears. While the guards kept their eyes averted, there was no doubt they were listening to the exchange. She had to very careful what she said. “I came to tell you that I know the truth. I know everything.”

  Morrigan tried her best to make her voice sound harsh, but she knew her eyes conveyed the underlying message. Arianrhod seemed to understand. She stood, brushed the dirty straw from her dress, and came as close to the magically charged bars as she dared.

  “You are more than you appear to be, Princess Morrigan. I saw a glimmer of that strength in the grand hall and wondered if it would come to fruition before it was too late.”

  “Don’t try to butter me up with compliments!” Morrigan shouted, a little more loudly than was really necessary. “We all know who really deserves to wear the crown, and I will be standing beside her tomorrow at the ritual. I will do anything to make sure she stays on the throne!”

  Arianrhod cocked her head, still unsure. “I’m sure you will do what you feel you must.”

  They stared at each other a long time through the bars. Morrigan completely surrendered, allowing her aunt to undress her soul. Finally, Arianrhod nodded, and Morrigan knew she understood. Nevertheless, her words were confusing.

  “Despite our differences, I must tell you, Morrigan, I admire the courage you have shown. You travelled here from another land, with only a werewolf as your guide, a half-man placed under a spell of obedience by Hecate.” She gave Morrigan a hard stare. “It must have been such a trying journey.”

  At first, Morrigan didn’t realize why Arianrhod mentioned Tiarn. When the truth finally hit her, the weight of what Arianrhod revealed almost brought Morrigan to her knees. It was a great peace offering, one that would lend Morrigan the strength to see her through the next twenty-four hours.

  “Gods.” Morrigan almost stumbled backward as emotion overcame her. “Tiarn was telling me the truth when he said he couldn’t tell me. I thought he was just making excuses.”

  “Some things you must learn on your own, Morrigan. Though, had his tongue been his own, I am sure your lycan would have shared with you all that he knew.”

  Morrigan felt her eyes fill with tears. Tiarn, her poor dark knight—he hadn’t betrayed her. Hecate had used her magical hold over him to bind him from speaking any truths that might damage her plans. She had made him bargain with his soul to save his life, before he ever knew what he was agreeing to. There was no way for him to break a blood oath until the debt was fulfilled. Even a novice witch like Morrigan could figure out that much. He had tried to explain it to her, but she had sent him away. And worse, she had threatened him and used his greatest pain against him. Now Tiarn was long gone. He had probably disappeared into the woods somewhere, and she had no idea how she would ever be able to find him again. If she survived whatever her mother had planned, she knew that she would spend the rest of her life trying to track him down.

  “What is going on here?” Ceridwyn’s voice suddenly boomed through the dungeon passageways, jerking Morrigan from her reverie. She heard a loud smack and the guard stationed at the top of the stairs suddenly tumbled down the steps. “Did I not make myself clear when I said that no one was to speak to the prisoner? You shall soon find yourself in the cell beside the very scum you should be guarding after such careless disregard of my orders!”

  Ceridwyn thundered down the stairs, her pretty face a mask of fury. She stepped over the moaning guard without remorse. She did nothing to hide her true self this time, and Morrigan was so overwhelmed by her rage that she fell to her knees when her mother leered over her.

  “Mother, it wasn’t his fault. Please let me explain!”

  “You!” she spat. “How dare you disobey me? Why would you leave your room to see her? And what are you crying about?”

  Morrigan stammered when she realized that her cheeks were damp. She thought she might be able to use those tears to her advantage. “I . . . I hate her!” Morrigan cried. “I had to come see her, Mother! I had to face the women who killed my father, who kept us apart all these years.”

  Ceridwyn gave Arianrhod a sidelong glance. “Is that so? And what did you have to say, Sister, in reply to such allegations? What lies have you told my daughter to try to turn her against me?”

  “I told her nothing. She came here only to disparage me, as I’m sure your own soldiers can attest to. I had little time to speak in my defense before your somewhat dramatic entrance. So tell me, Sister, what have you to fear?”

  Ceridwyn leaned close, her voice dripped with loathing. “I fear nothing. It is you who should cower in fear. This may well be the last time the sun will set for you!”

  Morrigan didn’t have time to ask her mother what that meant, and before anyone could speak again, Ceridwyn grabbed her roughly by the arm and dragged her through the dungeon. Arianrhod locked gazes with her until they turned the corner and were out of sight.

  Ceridwyn continued to pull her through the castle corridors. Her hand was wrapped so tightly around her forearm, Morrigan was sure she would have bruises in the shape of her mother’s handprints for days to come. They didn’t stop moving until they were back in her bed chambers. Ceridwyn made sure to give the sleeping guards a few swift kicks in the ribs as they stepped over the threshold. They slept so deeply, even that didn’t cause them to stir. She slammed the door shut behind them and threw Morrigan on the bed, her eyes flashing with barely controlled outrage.

  “How dare you defy me, you disobedient little wench! I should have you whipped for such impertinence.”

  Morrigan cowered before her mother’s fury. The room felt charged with electricity, and Morrigan was small and powerless in comparison. Still, she knew she had to try to appease that wrath if she was ever going to find a way to defeat her mother and set Arianrhod free.

  “I’m sorry, Mother. I just had to look her in the eye—my own aunt who tried to destroy us and steal your crown. If it wasn’t for Arianrhod, my father would be alive; you would never have sent me away. Maybe we would all be a family.”

  Ceridwyn seemed contemplative. “You say that you hate this woman for killing the father you never knew.”

  “Yes! I hate the witch responsible for ruining my life.”

  It wasn’t even a lie, because she wasn’t talking about Arianrhod anymore. Her mother had killed her father and tricked her into using her powers. The one woman who should have loved her had done nothing but te
ar her life to shreds.

  “Well then, if this is true, it will not grieve you to learn that Arianrhod will be sacrificed as part of our ritual tomorrow night.”

  At first Morrigan blanched and then almost gagged. She recovered quickly. She hid the horror and panic that threatened to swallow her whole. This was her only chance to convince her mother that she was on her side, and she was going to take advantage of it. She even managed a small, conspirative smile.

  “I have only one request, Mother, if the ritual must happen as you say.”

  “And what is that?” Ceridwyn’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

  “I want to cut the bitch open myself.”

  All hint of anger faded, and Ceridwyn looked down at Morrigan with real pride in her eyes. “Perhaps I have misjudged you, Morrigan. It seems you are my daughter at heart after all.”

  Chapter Thirty

  It was a long sleepless night for Morrigan. Her mother’s murderous revelations had darkened her thoughts, and her harsh and rash treatment of Filtiarn weighed heavily on her mind. How she wished she had given herself time to think. If she hadn’t let her temper get the better of her, Tiarn would still be there. She would have had some backup from someone who was more familiar with the castle layout and possibly even her mother’s plans. She could only hope and pray Arianrhod would come up with a plan, because she was clueless.

  Morrigan paced around her room restlessly, trying to think of a way out of her predicament. Her mother had smartened up. She doubled her guards, plus added a pair of sorcerers who would be able to combat any magical tactics. She considered jumping from the balcony into the moat below, but even if she survived the long fall, that would leave Arianrhod alone and defenseless. She owed her aunt for the mistakes she had made. She wasn’t going to leave her to the mercy of Ceridwyn and Hecate.

  In her desperation, Morrigan even tried to call on the faery, Willow, but neither she nor the Goddess she served answered her plaintive cries. Frustrated, she plopped down on her bed and heaved a loud sigh. As usual, Danu and Dagda were the only ones to offer her any comfort. Even in their Guardian forms, there was little the cats could do to protect her now that they were being watched by sorcerers. She laid her head back against the pillows, feeling the tears burning behind her eyes, but unwilling to give her mother the satisfaction of making her break down again. Ceridwyn had already taken away her father, her dreams of a happy family, and maybe even her soul mate. Morrigan wasn’t going to let her mother take her self-respect as well. The time for weakness and self-indulgence had passed. Now it was time for action.

  Eventually, Morrigan saw the sun breaking through the clouds on the horizon. She stood to peek out the balcony doors. Even in the morning glow, the three moons clung to their spot in the heavens. It was a beautiful yet foreboding image. Morrigan wasn’t sure she would be alive when those moons returned to light the night sky once more.

  Even as she stood admiring the beauty of what might be her final sunrise, her door was thrust open. This time, there was no pretense of motherly love or affection. Ceridwyn stormed through the door and threw a white gown onto the bed. She was followed closely by Hecate and her faithful cur, as well as three pretty handmaidens. The dog raised its lips at Danu and Dagda, who stood by her feet with their backs arched.

  “Good morning, Daughter,” Ceridwyn greeted her coldly. “I trust you slept well.”

  “Yes, Mother.” Morrigan avoided her eyes, hoping to appear weak and dominated.

  “That is good.” Ceridwyn nodded. “Then we can begin preparations for the ritual. You must first be cleansed of all your impurities before you enter the sacred circle. These maidens will perform the ceremony.”

  “Are you certain they are pure?” Hecate demanded. Morrigan cringed at the sound of her raspy voice.

  Ceridwyn nodded. “They are all virgins. I tested them myself last night and they were held in confinement by the elder crones until I retrieved them this morning.”

  “Good,” Hecate approved. “The girl must be touched only by maidens until the ritual begins or the cleansing will be fruitless.”

  “Yes, Mother.” Morrigan swore Ceridwyn rolled her eyes. “I am well aware of the procedure.”

  “That is well. We want no mishaps.”

  “I have been preparing for this moment for the better part of twenty years, Mother. I have left nothing to chance.” Ceridwyn turned back to Morrigan. “There will be no food or drinks consumed, with the exception of the purified water you are given as part of the cleansing. Do you understand?”

  Morrigan nodded.

  “You are not to speak to the maidens during the cleansing, nor will they utter a word to you. They will cleanse you, dress you, and adorn you. But you must remain silent from the time the purification begins until we come for you. Do you understand these instructions?”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  Ceridwyn eyed her daughter warily. “If you truly meant what you said last night, all will be well. You shall have the revenge you crave. Afterward, you will live a life of luxury, as is your birthright.” She took a few steps closer, and Morrigan could feel the heat of Ceridwyn’s sour breath against her face. “Betray me, and you shall die alongside my treacherous sister.”

  Morrigan couldn’t help but tremble. She knew it was a very real threat. “Yes, Mother, I understand.”

  “That is good,” Ceridwyn told her. “But I still think it best I have a little insurance until the ritual is successfully completed. I cannot have you doing something reckless that might interfere with my plans.”

  Ceridwyn signaled with a snap of her fingers, and two soldiers stepped in to the room carrying with them a pair of small iron cages. At once, Morrigan knew what her mother intended, as did Danu and Dagda who began to snarl and hiss in protest. That didn’t slow down the guards who nervously inched their way closer.

  “No!” Morrigan cried. “Oh please, no! Can’t they just stay here? They won’t do anything. I swear.”

  “If you follow directions, you will have nothing to fear. Your familiars will be fine and you shall be united before daybreak,” her mother assured her. “Now take the Guardians and put them into the cages. I do not want to risk them attacking the guards. They might splatter blood on your white gown.”

  Though Morrigan had promised herself she was going to stay strong, she couldn’t help but let a few tears sneak through. “Please, Mother, I’m begging you; I’ll do anything you say. Just please don’t take them!”

  “Silence!” Ceridwyn boomed. The perfumed oil bottles that lined the vanity shook with the force of her voice. “This is not up for debate. Do it at once! Or I shall kill them now!”

  Morrigan knew her mother wasn’t making idle threats. She would kill them and probably enjoy every second of it. She had no choice but to hand over her beloved pets. Before she sent them away, she pulled them each close, nuzzling their heads against her cheeks. They didn’t complain when their fur got damp from her tears. They continued to purr and nudge her affectionately, as if they were telling her it was all going to be okay. She only wished she could believe it was true.

  “I love you both,” she told them and gave them each one final stroke. “I am so sorry about this. But I promise we’ll be together soon.”

  Ceridwyn watched with impatience as, one at a time, Morrigan reluctantly slid the animals into the small cages. They didn’t fight or squirm the way they used to when she was bringing them to the vet in their pet carriers. In fact, they didn’t seem to mind at all until the guards came to pick them up. Then they growled, spat, and threw themselves against the iron bars. Razor sharp claws snuck through the gaps, and one of the men cursed as his hand welled with blood. They didn’t attempt to transform. Maybe the cage was magic proof or maybe it was just too confining. Either way, there was nothing they could do but watch her with sad, beseeching eyes as they were carried away.

  Morrigan wept silently as she watched them disappear from sight. She wished she had left them back in the safety of the
woods. She knew she had probably signed their death warrant, unless she somehow managed to stop Ceridwyn. Her mother might keep them alive to make sure she cooperated through the ritual, but afterward, their abilities would make them too much of a threat. It was just one more reason she had to fight with all the strength she could muster.

  Ceridwyn smiled, but even the friendly gesture seemed threatening now. “See, that wasn’t so terrible, was it? Be a good girl, and you shall see them again soon.”

  Morrigan dried her tears and held her head up high. “Let’s do this.”

  “So be it.” Ceridwyn signaled for the girls to come closer. “Let the cleansing begin.”

  With that, Ceridwyn turned on her regal heel, and with her royal entourage following behind her, she left Morrigan to begin her own preparations. The three girls were not much older than Morrigan. They watched her with a strange combination of fear and pity, but they didn’t speak and neither did Morrigan. She would follow Ceridwyn’s rules until she found an opportunity worth taking. She wasn’t going to jeopardize the lives of her only friends for nothing.

  Without a word, the maidens began making the preparations for the cleansing. They gestured for her to remove her clothes. She did so and felt a little self-conscious. When she got down to her lacey undergarments, she slipped the little raven statue into her hand, hoping the girls wouldn’t notice it. Before long she was naked and blushing before them. It made her feel very vulnerable to stand so exposed, even in front of other women.

  If her nudity made them uncomfortable, they didn’t show it. Perhaps they were used to these types of activities or maybe they just wanted to get it over with as much as she did. One of the girls produced a handful of freshly dried herbs. She placed the tip of the bundle into the fireplace to light it and then blew on it until the greenery started to smolder. She waved the smoking herbs all around Morrigan, filling the room with a thick mist of smoke. The sweet smell made her feel lightheaded at first, but the more she breathed in the addicting fragrance, the more she began to relax. It was as if the girl was brushing away her fear, her exhaustion, and even her pain, with each swipe of the smudge stick. The girl continued on until the entire bundle had burned out. Morrigan felt almost disappointed when she realized that part of the cleansing was over. It had actually been invigorating.