by P. C. Cast
“That’s what I said. Like hell you understand. Now either help me or get out of my goddamn way. I could care less if you’ve officially called off the search for her. I won’t call it off till the job’s done.” Richard shoved past the young sheriff and reentered the cave. “Young pup. Still wet behind his damn ears. Some nerve tryin’ to tell me what to do,” he mumbled to himself.
“Coach, do we keep digging?”
Richard stopped and looked at the dozen or so men who waited for him inside the cave. They ranged in age from early twenties to late forties and were a mixture of races as well as socioeconomic statuses. But they were all exhausted—all dirty-faced. And they all had one other thing in common besides having at one time played football for Richard Parker. They all would do anything for him.
The old coach smiled grimly at them. “Yep, yep, yep, we keep digging. Mama Parker will be here with some food soon. When the sun sets we’ll call it a day and start again tomorrow.”
“Got ya, Coach.”
Richard grabbed his own pick and shovel and paused to pull the leather gloves out of his pocket and put them on, wincing only a little at the blisters on his palms that had broken open during the past hour. With an air of stubborn resignation, he took his place in the deepest part of the tunnel. It had taken them ten days to clear this far. He knew they were close. They had to be close. He’d find her. She wouldn’t be alive. But he’d find his girl and then he’d take her home and bury her.
When his pick hit the boulder he knew by the feel of it what it had to be and carefully, using only his hands, he started to work free the rocks that had fallen against the selenite boulder. He tried not to think too much as he worked. Tried not to remember that the last time he’d seen her Morgie had been standing beside this very boulder.
He found the empty space when he moved the large, flat stone. Tepee-like, two other flat rocks had fallen against the side of the crystal boulder to create a small tent of space. Richard drew a deep, steadying breath and then reached in. His gloved fingers touched something too soft to be rock. Quickly, he pulled the gloves off with his teeth and got on his knees so that he could fit the top part of his body partially into the space. He reached in and touched her. Richard sighed and whispered a prayer to Epona, or whatever god or goddess had guided his digging. He tightened his grip on her and braced himself to pull the body of his girl from the rubble.
Then the old coach froze. Under his bare hand her flesh wasn’t cold and rubbery and dead. She was warm and soft. Carefully and slowly he pulled and she slid easily free of the space. With a steady hand, Richard pressed his fingers against her neck. Her pulse beat steady and strong against his fingers.
With a shout that had the men running to him, he cradled Morrigan carefully in his arms and began striding from the cave.
“Call 911 and Mama Parker! Hell, call that damn wet pup of a sheriff! I found her and my girl’s alive!”
* * *
When Morrigan opened her eyes her vision was preternaturally clear. She was lying down and covered to her chest with a sheet and thin blanket. Morrigan wasn’t in pain and she didn’t have a clue where she was. She looked up to see a dim fluorescent light glowing above her head. Beside her bed was an IV tree that held a couple bags of clear stuff. She followed the tubes with her eyes and saw that they were attached to her body. A machine was beeping softly beside the IVs. Wires from it were attached to her chest. Morrigan looked around the hospital room. On a couch next to a draped window Grandpa and Grandma were sound asleep. Morrigan smiled. G-pa’s glasses had fallen down on his nose. He’d kicked off his shoes, and his socks were bagging at the toes, as per usual. His arm was wrapped around G-ma, who looked tiny and sweet snuggled into his side, and very, very much alive.
Birkita was dead.
With that single thought her memory gushed back in a painful torrent. Birkita was dead. Kegan was dead. Brina was dead.
For that matter, she was dead.
You are not dead, Morrigan Christine MacCallan Parker, Light Bringer and my Chosen One.
Slowly, Morrigan moved her gaze from her sleeping grandparents to the woman who stood at the foot of her bed. Her beauty was so great that Morrigan had to squint to look at her, and then she realized that it wasn’t just her beauty that was so difficult to look upon, it was her divinity, her essence, the awe-inspiring love that she exuded.
“Adsagsona?”
The Goddess smiled. That is one of my names. I am also called Epona and Modron, Anu and Byanu, as well as countless others. I have many names because mortals have many needs and often it is difficult for them to understand that we are all the Goddess, the embodiment of the forces of the sacred land.
“I should be dead!” Morrigan blurted, then looked quickly at her peacefully sleeping grandparents.
Worry not, Beloved, they will continue to sleep. We shall not be interrupted. The Goddess looked fondly at the sleeping couple before turning her attention back to Morrigan. It is quite simple. I could not allow you to die. I had already allowed too much pain and darkness to touch you. I could not let you sacrifice yourself like that.
Morrigan felt a shiver of fear. “Pryderi? Is he alive, too?”
The goddess’s beautiful face darkened. Pryderi is immortal, and thus he cannot truly die. But what your sacrifice did was to cause him such a wound that you banished him from Partholon and your world for generations and from the Realm of the Sidetha for eternity.
Morrigan sighed. “So after all of that he’s not dead.”
Evil can never be utterly destroyed, Beloved. It can be defeated though, again and again. I ask you to forgive me, my Chosen One. Your young life has been difficult. You must understand that I had to let you struggle with the darkness yourself because it is only when evil is seen in its true form by mortals, without the interference of the gods, that the mortal spirit can find the love and loyalty and honor to rise up against it and prevail.
Morrigan thought about Kegan and Birkita and Kai and even Brina, and she knew without any doubt that all of them had looked upon evil and prevailed against it, even though it had caused their deaths. She only wished the Goddess had let her die so that she could join all of them and, according to the Sidetha’s funeral rite, begun the journey to a new life.
“I forgive you,” she said softly.
The Goddess inclined her head graciously. I thank you, Beloved, for your forgiveness as well as your many sacrifices.
“What happens now?” Morrigan asked, feeling the weight of those sacrifices pressing around her heart.
Now you live a full, rich life, my Beloved.
“In Oklahoma?” She wanted to add without Kegan, but she couldn’t quite make the words come.
This world needs you, Beloved. They have forgotten what it is to revere the land and the Goddess who embodies it. As my High Priestess, you shall help them to remember.
“But what about the Sidetha? Their High Priestess is dead.” Morrigan blinked hard, willing herself not to cry.
Now that the darkness that has been influencing and leading so many of them is gone, they will begin to appreciate the gifts I have already given them.
Morrigan nodded slowly. “Deidre isn’t dead.”
She lives, as does my favor within her.
“She’ll make a good High Priestess.”
And Arland will make an excellent Master, especially with Raelin as his Mistress.
“Arland’s the guy who was so respectful to me in the amethyst room.” She smiled at the Goddess. “And Raelin will be a great Mistress. Looks like the priorities of the Sidetha will be changing.”
That is my intention, Beloved, as it is my intention that the people of the modern world begin to know the return of the Great Goddess.
Morrigan’s smile faltered. “But I don’t know what I’m doing. I need a High Priestess to help me.”
The Goddess nodded toward Morrigan’s sleeping grandmother. You have a High Priestess who will guide you. Did you think I would allow all of my Bel
oved Birkita to perish? Much of her essence has always been here in this world with the mate of her soul, Richard Parker.
Morrigan’s eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t know—I didn’t understand.”
There is much yet for you to learn and to understand. Remember, my blessing goes with you wherever you are. You will hear no more voices in the wind. Pryderi can no longer touch you.
“But what about my mom, Rhiannon? I know that sometimes I heard her voice. Won’t I hear her anymore?”
The Goddess’s smile was luminous. Rhiannon has finally journeyed to my verdant meadows. Her task here is done—her atonement complete. But should you need to hear a mother’s voice, listen to your heart. You will always find a part of Rhiannon, and Shannon, there.
“I’ll remember,” Morrigan said through her tears.
Know that I am well pleased with you, my Beloved. You chose to trust love and loyalty and honor. But I ask you to remember one more emotion—one more truth.
“What is it?”
Hope, my Beloved. I want you to remember to trust hope.
“I’ll remember hope.” Morrigan thought of Kegan and felt a stab of painful loss. “Or at least I’ll try,” she said.
To try is all I can ask of any of my Beloved Chosen. And also remember how much I love you, Chosen One, and that my love will last for an eternity…
The Goddess raised her hands in blessing, and then with a shimmering of light, disappeared.
Morrigan was wiping her eyes and blowing her nose when her grandparents opened their eyes.
“Morgie old girl!” her grandpa cried, coming off the couch quickly, if a little stiffly, and taking her hand. “You’re awake! Mama Parker, look, our girl’s awake.”
“Oh, hon!” Grandma hurried around to the opposite side of the bed to take Morrigan’s other hand. “Are you okay? We’ve been so worried about you.”
Morrigan squeezed their hands and smiled at them through a flood of new tears. “I’m fine! Really.”
“You’re home now, Morgie. Everything will be fine.” G-pa kissed her hand roughly and wiped quickly at his eyes. Then he smiled across the bed at his wife. “I told your grandma that I’d find you. She was the only one who really believed me.”
Grandma sniffled and brushed Morrigan’s hair out of her face. “I knew that between your grandpa and the Goddess, a miracle was bound to happen.”
“You found me, G-pa?” Morrigan asked.
“Yep, yep, yep. No way I wasn’t going to. Everyone called it a miracle when I pulled that boy from the rubble.” He snorted. “That was no damn miracle. I was already there and I’ve known CPR for a coon’s age. It was you, Morgie old girl, you were my miracle.”
Morrigan grinned at his familiar, craggy old face. Then all of what he said registered. “Wait, what boy?”
“Well, hon, that nice Kyle. The young man you were in the cave with that night,” Grandma said.
“Shouldn’t have had his hands all over you,” Grandpa grumbled. “But it is a damn shame what happened to him. I could have liked him—if he’d learned to keep his hands to himself.”
Morrigan shook her head. “I don’t understand what y’all are talking about. Kyle died. I saw him buried by the cave-in.”
“Nope. The boy was knocked out. I ran back in to get you after I made sure your grandma was safe. I couldn’t get to you, Morgie, but I found Kyle and pulled him out.”
“He wasn’t breathing and he didn’t even have a pulse, but your grandpa worked on him until the paramedics got there.”
“He’s alive?” Morrigan said, pushing herself up and trying to stop the shaking that had begun in her body.
“Steady, Morgie old girl. He’s not really alive,” her grandpa said gruffly.
“What do you mean? He’s either alive or dead.”
“What your grandpa means is that he never regained consciousness. He’s been in a coma for almost two weeks now.”
“Brain dead as a cabbage. They took the tubes out yesterday. It’ll only be a few days and his body will follow the rest of him.”
Morrigan wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes so that she could listen to her heart and hope flared in her like a burning crystal.
“Morgie, hon, we’re so sorry,” Grandma said gently, touching her shoulder. “We shouldn’t have told her like that,” she said to her husband.
Morrigan opened her eyes. “Take me to him.”
“Oh, no, hon. You need to rest and it’s late. Tomorrow will be soon enough.”
Morrigan grabbed her grandma’s hand and looked into her eyes. “Please. I have to see him. Now.”
“You’re too weak to walk,” Grandpa said. “Besides, you have all that stuff hooked up to you.”
Before he could stop her, Morrigan reached down and yanked both IVs out of her arm and the sticky things from her chest. “The stuff is gone, and I’m not too weak to walk.” Morrigan swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, steady and straight, to prove it to him.
“Hon, let’s show Morgie to Kyle’s room,” Grandma said, watching Morrigan closely.
“All right, but you two are going to have to explain what happened with those tubes and plugs to the nurse in the morning. And I don’t want to hear a word from anyone if Morgie falls and hurts herself.”
“I won’t fall. I’m going to hang on to you, G-pa,” Morrigan said, wrapping her arm through his.
“Huh,” he snorted, but patted her hand gently where it rested on his arm.
Morrigan tried not to think. Her entire being was focused on one thing—hope. Her grandparents led her quietly from her room, down the short hall, and to another room almost identical to hers. They pushed open the door for her and she let loose her grandpa’s arm. “I need to go in by myself, okay?”
“Of course, Morgie old girl. Your grandma and I will wait right out here for you.”
Morrigan went up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. Then after they left the room she made her way slowly to Kyle’s bedside.
He had a lot less stuff around his bed than she had had around hers. Morrigan studied his face. Even though he was too pale, and his cheeks were hollow and his eyes sunken, he looked so much like Kegan that she couldn’t stop her tears. She sat on the edge of his bed and took his hand in both of hers.
“I know you’re not Kegan, but you’re all I have left of him and I was hoping that he might somehow be able to hear me because I know the two of you are connected. I didn’t really get to tell you goodbye. Everything happened too fast. Kegan, it wasn’t all for nothing. Our light beat the darkness, at least for a while—the Goddess said a good long while. I wanted you to know that.” Her breath caught on a sob, and she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “And I’ll remember my promise. I’ll trust hope and believe that somehow I’ll find you. It might take another lifetime, but I’ll find you, Kegan.” She bent and pressed his limp hand to her lips. Then she lay his hand back on the bed, put her face in her hands to muffle her sobs and cried out her broken heart.
“Am I lost, my flame?”
Morrigan gasped and wiped frantically at her face to clear her vision.
Color was already beginning to return to his cheeks and he was smiling at her—that familiar, amazing, wonderful smile Birkita had called rakish.
“Kegan?”
“Morrigan, my flame, you will have to explain to me what has happened to the sword that not long ago pierced my chest and killed me,” he said as he felt around his chest and didn’t find a protruding hilt. Then he glanced down at his body and frowned. “And where is the rest of my body?”
“Kegan!” Laughing and crying at the same time, Morrigan hurled herself into his arms as her grandparents rushed into the room.
“Morgie, is everything—” her grandpa began, and then he snorted. “Boy has his hands all over her again.”
In Kegan’s arms Morrigan began to laugh, and echoing the sound of her happiness, the air around them in that room in Tulsa’s very proper, very modern Saint F
rances Hospital was filled with a cloud of glistening, golden-winged butterflies that circled the bed jubilantly before changing into yellow rose petals and falling all around them.
“Looks like Epona’s been busy again. I do believe she’s made another miracle,” Richard Parker said as he put his arm around his beloved wife and watched his granddaughter, his girl, laugh in the man’s arms who was supposed to be thoroughly dead.
“Oh, hon, I never doubted it.”
EPILOGUE II
Partholon
Ileaned back against ClanFintan and sighed contentedly as his arms came around me. Together we gazed down at our granddaughter, who was sleeping peacefully.
“I’ve missed you, my love,” he said into my ear, careful to speak low so that Etain wouldn’t wake up.
“I’ve missed you, too,” I told him. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t find my way out of the pain to you.”
His arms tightened around me. “I was here all along, waiting for you to come back to me.”
“Thank you for loving me like you do.”
I could feel the rumble of his familiar chuckle. “It has little to do with me. It is your goddess’s doing, though I am heartily pleased she fashioned me for you.”
“And me for you,” I said. Then I paused and had to swallow several times before I said the rest of it. “Myrna’s not really gone, you know. There’s a part of her living here, in her beautiful daughter. There’s a part of her living on in Epona’s meadows with the Goddess. And there’s a part of her—a magical part of her—that’s living in Oklahoma with my parents and the man the Goddess fashioned to love her.” I turned to look into his dark, familiar eyes then. “I can bear it now, and go on to find joy in this life.”
“Shannon my girl, we will go on to find joy in many lives to come, may your goddess be willing.”
As ClanFintan bent to claim my mouth I heard the whisper of Epona’s loving voice in my heart and knew my spirit and my daughter’s spirit and her daughter’s spirit were truly at peace.
Well done, my Beloved One…well done…
