by Linsey Hall
Only then did I realize that Princess Snowflake III was staring at me with intense blue eyes. She head-butted my hip, which, for her, was a gesture of extreme affection. Bojangles was looking from my body to me, total confusion on his little face.
Slowly, I stood. It was weird to leave my body behind. Especially weird to be able to walk through people without anyone noticing.
Most of the warriors had rushed toward the battle and were now attacking the Romans, giving the original forces the backup they needed to save the town.
One of the warriors who’d sat around my body stood. “She was a hero.”
“Just appeared out of the blue. Took out the giant no one else could.”
Well, that was a high compliment. I looked at my body. Still dead though.
Muffin meowed. We need to fix this.
“I don’t know how.” But I still needed answers about what was happening with the three invaders. Just because I was dead didn’t mean I could quit. Grief flashed through me briefly. If I couldn’t fix this, I would lose my sisters.
I sucked in a deep breath.
Hell no.
I wasn’t going to go down that path. It wouldn’t help, and I had a job to do. Also, denial could work really well. “Well, I think we’ve finished here. Let’s see if I can keep moving.”
All right, Casper.
I scowled at Muffin, who grinned toothily at me. “You know, if I can’t finish this job, you’re going to have to.”
Aye, aye, Captain.
The cats followed me to the boat. It was hard, but I managed to not look back at my body. It was too freaking weird. I didn’t know what they’d do with me, and the idea kind of turned my stomach. Not that I thought they’d do anything bad. But even the idea of being buried….
Totally creepy.
The boat was waiting for us at the river, floating magically in place near the grass. I stepped on, and the cats followed me. Bojangles didn’t even bother to jump onto the boat. He splashed right into the water and doggy-paddled—kitty-paddled?—alongside.
The boat took off, magic drawing it back down the river. It was surreal, really, knowing that I was on some kind of magical and divine journey as a ghost or spirit or whatever. I couldn’t stop looking at my body, confirming that I was still dead.
Finally, I dragged my gaze away. The river wound through a field of golden wheat that blew gently in the air. To the left, a dark scar cut through the ground. It looked like the streak of evil that I’d been following, but worse. It plowed right through the earth, leaving a spray of dirt in its wake.
Muffin meowed. That’s bad news bears if I ever saw it. You’re earning your way into the sacred grove. They’re breaking in. Stealing.
“Bastards.”
Princess Snowflake III hissed. Bojangles paddled merrily along, having no idea that something was dreadfully wrong.
When my boat approached another grove of trees, excitement filled me. Normally, I’d hear the beat of my heart. Today, everything was silent. But this was it. I was close.
No question.
The boat pushed gently up to the shore, and I jumped off, followed by my sidekicks. Bojangles shook himself off, spraying me with water droplets that just flew through my ghostly form, then trotted ahead.
These trees were smaller than the other oaks, their bark silver and pale. They vibrated with magic, making me tingle with awareness.
When three figures stepped from the grove, shock raced through me.
The three shadows. They looked different than they had when they’d been fleeing from us in Italy after I’d torn their cloaks off, but their magic was the same. I’d never forget the stench or the prickle of unease.
On instinct, I darted behind a tree.
Princess Snowflake III hissed and Muffin meowed. Someone got a makeover.
He was right. They were still ephemeral, dark shadows that seemed to suck the light from the forest, but they were more solid now. I could make out features—they were definitely women, though their age was indecipherable. They wore clothes just like the attacking Roman soldiers I’d just seen on the battlefield. White cotton and golden armor.
That couldn’t be a coincidence. I’d suspected before, but now I knew.
My enemy was Roman.
The Celts had fought the Romans for hundreds of years. I’d apparently been born to finish the job.
Or at the very least, keep it going.
“I’ve got to try,” I whispered.
With what? You’re a ghost. You going to scare them to death?
“If I can.” I slipped out from behind the tree and followed them. I tried calling a dagger from the ether, but it didn’t work. That spell had been attached to my body, not my soul.
They were walking away, their strides calm and sure. I called upon my magic, determined to blast them away with the golden light. I didn’t know if it would work, but I had to try.
“Stop.” The voice was quiet but resonated with power. A woman, I thought.
Shocked, my magic cut off abruptly. I turned. There was no one there.
“You can’t kill them,” the voice said. “Not in your state. Not with the magic you have now. But you can alert them to your presence. And that would be the end of you.”
Frustration boiled within me. I turned to watch the retreating shadows. They were fifty yards away.
“Come. You must finish your journey and gain the magic that you came for. It is the only way you will succeed.”
She—whoever she was—was right. I couldn’t take them out with what I had currently.
I shoved aside the frustration and turned, walking deeper into the forest. My druid sense pulled me along, guiding me past trees and even a stone tomb decorated with skulls. Somehow I knew that they were the long decayed heads of ancient druids.
But that wasn’t my destination.
Instead, I headed for an ancient-looking round house with a thatched roof. Smoke billowed from the middle of the roof, where I assumed a hole was cut to let it escape. The cats kept pace with me, padding silently along.
“Nervous?” I asked.
Muffin looked up at me, green eyes bright. No. You?
“Maybe a bit, yeah. What if they’re like ‘You? You’re not who we expected.’”
Muffin meowed. Don’t forget that you earned your way here.
Princess Snowflake III butted her head against my leg.
Bojangles burped.
I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips as I stepped through the door.
A woman waited within, standing behind the orange fire that burned in the middle of the empty house. She was clad in brown wool pants and a tunic. Leather armor lay against the wall, and her face was streaked with blood. Not her own, I thought, since I saw no wounds. She had a strong face and hard eyes that contrasted with the red hair that spilled down her back.
“Ana Blackwood,” the woman said. “The Warrior Druid.”
“Yes.” After that, I drew a blank. Who was this woman?
“I am Boudica.”
“Wow.” She was the queen of the Iceni, a Celtic tribe of southern Britain, and the one who had nearly evicted the Romans from Britain. “I never thought I’d meet you.”
“Likewise. But when you interceded on my behalf at the battle of Watling Village, it became obvious that I should be the one to meet you here.”
“What do you mean?”
“Everyone must earn their way into the sacred grove.” She scowled. “Well, almost everyone. But we will discuss that later. When you were on the river, you had a choice of which direction to go. You could have come straight here, but you chose to go the long way, through the battle.”
I nodded, not feeling the need to explain. She’d known why I’d done it. She’d sacrificed her life to lead a rebellion against injustice, after all.
“You put your life on the line,” she said.
“And lost.” I held up a transparent blue hand.
“You killed the giant. And saved your companion.” Sh
e pointed to Princess Snowflake III, who was looking at her with a suspicious gleam in her eyes. “You could have saved yourself. Why didn’t you?”
“Didn’t occur to me.”
“Not when your friend needed help. And you used up the last of your magic to save her. A rare choice.” Her eyes shined with pride.
I felt vaguely awkward. I wasn’t an idiot. I knew this was some version of a compliment. But I also wasn’t good at taking those gracefully, so I kept my mouth shut. “Why were you fighting in your own afterlife? Was it a test for me?”
“Only in part. In many places, Otherworld is a mirror of the earthly realm, which means we fight battles occasionally. Even against the Romans, our greatest enemy. I continue to fight the battles that defined my life.”
I wasn’t sure if that was cool or sad.
“But this…” she continued. “This was different. The three who have invaded brought with them a dark energy that fueled their own kind.”
“You mean it gave your Roman opponents more strength?”
“And viciousness. But we succeeded because of you and your sacrifice. It is what earned you your way here, and it is what will continue to earn you the magic that the gods will bestow upon you.”
“What did the invaders find here? Who are they?”
“I don’t know who they are, other than Roman. I call them The Three. It is a sacred number, and I’m sure it is linked to their power.”
“What did they get here? This place is for knowledge and power, correct?”
“They received both. Their bodies are stronger now. And they were looking for an army.”
“For what?”
“I have no idea. But they found it. They will seek the Fomori. They are the most monstrous and evil beings in Celtic myth. Demons and dark gods. They can provide an army of immense power.”
“Why would Romans want a Celtic army?” I asked.
“The Fomorian’s would know that, not I.”
If I made it out of here alive, that would be my next stop. “Can you tell me where to find them?”
“I imagine that your Undercover Protectorate would have some ideas. But you will need your magic first.”
I looked down at my transparent body. “And a body.”
She smiled. “That, we can accommodate. The Celtic soul is immortal. It is why you still walk despite the fact that your body has died.”
“It has to help that I’m technically in the afterlife, right?”
“Indeed, it does. You will get your body back when you pass through the trials, which I have no doubt you will. Those same trials will also link your torc to your soul.”
The necklace that Sulis had mentioned.
Boudica held out her hand, and a heavy golden necklace appeared. It was shaped like a C and very stiff, with an open space in the middle of one side. Ornate swirls twined around it.
“This is an ancient Celtic form of ceremonial jewelry that is normally worn by leaders.”
My gaze travelled to the torc around her neck. It was heavy and strong, glowing golden in the light of the fire.
“The torc will allow you to understand and utilize the gifts that the gods bestow upon you. Once you wear it, they will begin to grant you their magic.”
“I just have to pass through the trials.”
“Precisely. Which I have no doubt you will do.” She held out the torc, shaking it slightly to make her intentions clear.
I stepped forward quickly and grabbed the torc, my ghostly hand not stopping me from holding it. Power zinged up my arm as my fingertips closed around the gold. I inspected it. The swirls of metal were actually part of a dragon. It twined around the necklace, looking fierce.
“This is amazing.”
“Put it on.”
I slipped the torc around my neck. Magic zipped through me as it settled heavily against me. Though I was in my ghost form and couldn’t touch anything else, this didn’t care about such silly rules. It felt like it would stick with me no matter what. I reached up to touch it. The torc was smooth and cool beneath my fingertips.
Then it began to heat.
My eyes flashed to Boudica. “What’s—”
Pain flared, bright and brief. It was gone a second later. So was the torc. The golden necklace no longer rested heavily around my neck. But the skin around my neck felt different. Almost like it vibrated with magic.
“It’s become part of you,” Boudica said. “That way, you’ll never lose your gifts. Or your ability to use them.”
That sounded pretty good, actually. And I definitely felt different. Like something inside of me had calmed down. Before this, my magic had been a crazy carnival and most of the carnies had been asleep on the job. Now, it was orderly and precise. I bet if I tried, I could use any of my magic now without issue.
Boudica held out her hand again, and a tiny torc rested there. “Your familiar has earned one as well.”
Muffin meowed and sauntered forward. He sat regally on his butt—don’t ask how it was possible, but he managed it—and stared up at her with his wrinkled face. She placed the torc around his neck, and he purred.
Briefly, it glowed bright, then it disappeared into him as well. A golden tattoo traced over his shoulders, looking like the twisted torc.
“Cool,” I said. “What does—”
Wings sprouted off Muffin’s back, little silver things that sparkled in the firelight. He jumped, surprised, and looked back.
I’d once imagined him with wings, and here he was. My winged, hairless, magical Cat Sìth. What a weird life I led.
Princess Snowflake III sniffed him suspiciously, while Bojangles licked his butt in the corner, oblivious to all that was going on around him.
Muffin took a running start, sprinting across the small roundhouse. He crouched low on his powerful hind legs and took off, little wings carrying him into the air.
They didn’t take him far—only a few feet—but when he landed, he looked very pleased with himself.
“Well done,” I said. “And you’ll probably get even better.”
Boudica shot me a look that suggested this was as good as it was going to get, but Muffin looked so pleased with himself and his little wings that it didn’t matter.
Boudica looked at Princess Snowflake III. “And you as well.”
Princess strolled forward and sat, preening as Boudica put the torc around her neck. As soon as it disappeared, Princess shot a blast of fire from her mouth. She looked pleased with herself after that.
Boudica gestured to Bojangles, who looked around like who, me?
“Yes, you small strange cat.”
Bojangles gamboled forward, then rolled over onto his back right in front of her.
“I’m not sure that’s how it’s supposed to be done, Bojangles,” I said.
“It’s fine.” Boudica slipped a tiny torc around his neck. A moment later, he disappeared.
“Oh, that’s gonna be dangerous,” I muttered.
A moment later, Bojangles appeared on the other side of the room.
Muffin purred with delight. We’ll be able to steal everything.
I sighed but didn’t correct him. Not like I could control him anyway. I looked at Boudica. “The gods really trust me with their magic?”
She nodded. “They do. You were born worthy, Ana. Your soul was a beacon for the gods, making it clear that you would do the right thing with your powers. They cannot walk the earth anymore, helping those in need. But you can. And you’ve proven yourself willing throughout your life. Brave and selfless, kind and generous. It is you who are worthy of their magic. Now that you have the torc, you’ll be able to use what they give you.” Her face turned grim. “And I think you may need it. I couldn’t stop The Three who came here earlier, but someone must. Their magic is dark, and their intentions darker. I think they are tied to you somehow. Your fate meshed with theirs.”
“This was meant to be,” I said. “The Celts fought the Romans in ancient times, and I’m meant to do it again.”<
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“Aye, I think that’s right.” Intensity gleamed in her eyes, almost vicious. “You must win. Beat them, Ana. For all of us.”
Flashes of history passed through my mind, memories of reading about Boudica. Her daughters had been killed in a Roman attack, and she’d picked up the sword to rouse the Celts in a revolt against the invaders from the south. She’d nearly won, too.
But she hadn’t. She’d died a tragic death instead.
Of course she wanted vengeance on the Romans.
“I’ll stop them,” I said. “Whatever they want, they won’t get it.”
She nodded, satisfied. “Good. Now there’s one more thing. You will leave here and pass through the trials to get your body back. I don’t know what they will be, but they’ll be linked to you somehow. And not easy.”
“I can do it.”
She grinned. “I like confidence in a person.”
I saluted. “I got it in spades.”
I might not have always been confident in my magic—having defensive magic in an offensive world had sucked—but I was confident in my ability to suck it up and do what was necessary. To keep pushing and trying until the job was done. Plans A, B, and C would get me there eventually.
“Best of luck to you, Ana,” Boudica said. “I think you’re going to need it.”
9
Boudica disappeared, and I turned, ready to face whatever the trials were.
When the flame burst to life around me, I stumbled back, shocked. But the flames rolled toward me, fiercely hot.
Frantic, I looked around for the cats. “Run!”
They arched their backs and hissed at the flame. I turned back to it. The flickering orange tongues of heat had crept closer. The burning was so intense that it made my eyes water. I stepped back, away from it.
Muffin meowed. I wouldn’t do that if I were you.
Fear flowed through me as I turned.
More flame.
So much flame.
So much heat.
My skin began to burn, so hot that it would have melted if I’d been more than a ghost. I might not have had a real body, but apparently my nerve endings still worked just fine.
The flame was nearly to me now, only a few feet away on all sides. The burning increased, so powerful I could have fallen over.