A small smile played across her face, but instead of answering me, she ordered, “Get to your feet. I’m tired from our journey, and desire shelter. Listening to you scream for such a long distance has given me a headache.”
I stayed right where I was sitting, the damp grass unable to penetrate my black ski pants. “Take me back to Alaric,” I demanded.
She shook her head. “It was too risky to remain with your companions. They would only slow you down. We’re better off on our own.”
“No,” I argued. “We have to go back. We can at least bring them here.”
The Morrigan smirked. “I would not share such an experience with any of them, even if I could, but it doesn’t matter, because I cannot. I was only able to change your form because it is a gift you would have had if you were stronger.”
I frowned, still holding a hand to my tummy to reassure myself that the baby was really still there. The idea of having such an amazing gift was appealing, but not if it would make me any more like the Morrigan than I already was.
“I will not take you back,” she continued, “so your choices are to sit here in the grass and starve, or to come with me and take care of your child.”
My frown deepened. She had a point. I didn’t know where I was, but there were no signs of civilization. Who knew how far the nearest town might be? I would need to get my bearings, and hopefully some supplies, before I tried to escape.
My heart felt hollow as I realized that even if I escaped, I would have no way of finding Alaric and the others. They were in hiding, after all. My greatest hope was the small chance that the Morrigan might take me back to them.
She turned and walked away from me as I scrambled to my feet. Now that I was standing, I could see large jagged rocks spanning for miles, all covered in green moss and surrounded by lush grass. The air was chilly, but not as cold as where we’d been.
I followed the Morrigan as she led the way toward the circle of rocks I’d noticed from the air. Each of them was larger than a person, and they formed a perfect half-circle, almost as if they’d been placed there on purpose.
The Morrigan moved to the center of the circle, then crouched down to retrieve something from the ground. She came up with a stone in each hand, offering one to me as I reached her. Curiosity got the better of me, and I took the offered stone.
A moment later, I felt a strange sinking feeling, as if we’d stepped into quicksand. I panicked and tried to step away, but I was too late. We sunk into the earth, then came out the other side.
I gasped, crouching where I had landed as the space we were now in slowly illuminated. Familiar stone walls met my eyes.
“A Salr?” I questioned, slowly rising. “How did you bring us here? I thought only the Vaettir could find them.”
The Morrigan smirked. “You really are an arrogant race. Who do you think created the Salr?”
I gave her a shocked look. Surely she couldn’t mean—
She rolled her eyes. “No, not me, you silly thing, but the magic of the old gods. These sanctuaries were the last gift to their children before Yggdrasil was destroyed.”
Her explanation made me more confused, not less. “I thought we were more like the Norns’ children, not the gods’.”
The Morrigan brushed off her cloak, though I could see no dirt on it, then walked past me, further into the Salr. “Many of you were made in the gods’ images, and they loved you just as the Norns did. Then you destroyed Yggdrasil, and cast the Norns out to die.”
I hurried to catch up. “Sorry?” I offered, even though I hadn’t been alive when everything she’d recounted took place.
“Hrmf,” was the Morrigan’s only reply. She led us down a narrow, stone hall, trailing her fingertips across the stones as we walked.
I glanced around warily, ready for a Norn to pop out at any moment. “I notice you didn’t include yourself when you were speaking about the gods. You said they not we.”
“We are the same, and we are different,” she replied.
I let out a long, frustrated sigh, not understanding, but sensing that I wouldn’t be receiving any real explanation.
“How long are we staying here?” I grumbled.
“Long enough to prepare,” she answered vaguely.
I stopped walking. “Prepare for what?”
She continued walking, forcing me to either catch up to her, or remain alone in the hall. I caught up.
“For war,” she answered as soon as I reached her side.
I huffed. “I thought that’s what we were already doing.”
The Morrigan stopped walking and turned to fully face me with a stern expression, making me half-regret even speaking to begin with.
“My dear child,” she said in a lecturing tone, “we can talk strategy until we all turn to dust. There is still one simple fact that cannot be ignored.”
“And what is that?” I asked snidely, crossing my arms.
A small smile curled her lips. “For war you need an army,” she replied. “And I’m going to help you build one.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it, unsure of what to say. An army didn’t sound like a terrible thing, depending on the soldiers. An army could protect us. It could keep Alaric and Mikael out of the fighting altogether. An army could also turn on us and send us all to our graves, but there was no use dwelling on ifs in dire times such as these.
“So you agree?” she pressed, watching my expression as I muddled over what she’d said.
I shrugged, feeling sick and wanting nothing more than to lie down. “Do I have a choice?”
She grinned. “There is always a choice, Madeline. I’m here to show you that.”
She turned and continued walking before I could argue that she was showing me quite the opposite.
6
James sat on the ice, glaring at everyone. Alaric and Mikael had dragged him back to camp while Sophie walked ahead, refusing to help. James had woken eventually. Alaric had expected him to be whiney and frightened, but he’d been in for quite the suprise.
“What happened to Madeline?” Alaric demanded, barely restraining himself from throttling the man at his feet.
James smiled coldly, a smile that was all old James, not the James without his memory. “I’ll answer your questions when you answer mine.”
James was outnumbered, surrounded by Alaric, Sophie, and Mikael and his people, yet he wouldn’t tell them a damn thing. He sat smugly on the ice, warm and comfortable within his snow gear.
“I don’t know what happened to Diana,” Alaric lied for the fifth time.
If James found out Madeline had killed his grandmother, he’d likely not be inclined to help rescue her. Of course, now that James was back to his old self, he likely wouldn’t be inclined to help either way.
“You’re lying,” James said simply.
Mikael grunted. “We could just torture him,” he suggested.
Alaric shook his head. “It won’t do any good.”
He knew James better than that. They could cut off his fingers and toes one by one, and he wouldn’t say a word. He turned back to James, his shoulders slumped in resignation. Nope, he wouldn’t tell them a damn thing until his questions were answered.
“Diana is dead,” Alaric explained. “She forced Madeline’s hand, and Madeline killed her.”
James surprised Alaric by smiling, then surprised him even more by erupting with laughter. “Little mouse has teeth after all,” he mused.
Mikael let out a long whistle. “Not the reaction I was expecting.”
Besides Sophie and Madeline, Mikael had been the only other who knew the truth about Diana. Maddy hadn’t even wanted to admit to herself that she’d raised several corpses to tear Diana to pieces, all before the Norn cut out her heart to release the key. Aila’s confused expression confirmed that Mikael had kept his mouth shut on all he’d been told.
“Diana was a tool to be used like any other,” James explained.
Sophie huffed. “Do you truly care about
no one?”
James glared at her. “Diana left me to be arrested back at the hotel, so she could escape and follow Madeline. Had I been killed, she would not have shed a tear. I owe her no loyalty.”
Well that was good news, Alaric thought. Though he despised James, he might still prove useful. “Now tell us what happened,” he demanded.
James smiled up at him. “Fine. I had followed Madeline and the Morrigan, not trusting the Morrigan’s intentions. I tried to interject when the Morrigan grabbed Madeline. Then the witch waved her hand and I was out like a light. When I woke up, I remembered everything. Everything from before, and everything since.” His expression turned bitter at that, obviously displeased with the events after his memory loss.
Alaric smiled coldly. He sincerely hoped that was the case, and that James remembered acting like a scared little child. Judging by James’ glare, he did. Alaric smiled wider.
“That tells us nothing,” Mikael cut in. “How do we find her?”
James smirked up at him. “Why do you care, Viking?”
Mikael growled and lunged at James, but Aila darted in to hold him back. Seeming to regain his composure, Mikael straightened.
“Madeline and I have a blood oath,” he said simply. “I must at least try to find her.”
Alaric doubted that was the real reason, but said nothing to that effect. Arguing with Mikael would do no good, though it was hard to tell that to the burning ball of rage and jealousy in his gut.
Pushing back his emotions, he turned back to James. “You know we cannot let you go.”
James laughed. “And I don’t plan on leaving. I want to be on the team with the big scary charm and the evil witch.”
“You would abandon Aislin, just like that?” Alaric questioned.
James rose to his feet, and no one stopped him. “I remained at Estus’ side for thirty years on Aislin’s orders, and look where that’s gotten me. I was without my memory for weeks, and the people who took care of me were those I might consider enemies, not those I’ve sworn loyalty to. No, I’ll take my chances with team wild card.”
Sophie finally stepped forward. “What if we don’t want you?”
James took a step toward Sophie, putting himself inches from her face. “If you didn’t want me, then I wouldn’t be here,” he teased with an infuriating smile.
With a growl Sophie turned on her heel, then stalked off across the ice. Alaric shook his head, he would much rather kill James than bring him along, but he had an idea growing in his mind. One where James, now that he was James again, might prove very useful indeed.
“Pack everything up,” Alaric ordered. “We need to get moving as soon as Sophie finishes her tantrum.”
Mikael had turned to gaze off into the distance, keeping his thoughts on everything to himself. It was one of those moments where Alaric wished he had Madeline’s unusual abilities. He would have very much liked to know what the Viking was thinking and feeling right at that time.
Not that Alaric cared about Mikael’s emotions, but the game they played had just been irreparably altered. Alaric would not lose to the Morrigan, and he would not lose to Mikael. The prize for winning was simple. He would keep Madeline and his child safe. It was a prize worth more than any amount of riches.
After we’d settled into the Salr, the Morrigan had provided food and clothing more suited to our current environment. I had no idea where she’d gotten any of it, but I grudgingly appreciated that she’d actually taken into account my vegetarian sensibilities. The clothes weren’t bad either. The gray jeans fit comfortably, as did the forest green, chunky knit sweater. The brown leather boots weren’t what I would have chosen, but that was about it. I’d been able to take a hot bath, which was a huge luxury after my time spent in the icy wilds. I wasn’t able to enjoy it like I would have if I knew everyone else was safe, but I hadn’t turned my nose up at it either.
Besides the painful ball of worry in my gut, the only other thing wrong with the situation was the company. The Morrigan sat across from me at a large, plain wood table, ignoring me. She poured over an ancient looking book that had left a rectangle of dust on the table, while I gnawed at the remainder of my apple core and watched her every move.
My thoughts turned back to Alaric. Was he safe? Had our small party been found by our enemies, or had the Morrigan made the entire thing up? Would he and Sophie remain with Mikael’s people, now that I’d disappeared, along with the charm that their plans relied on?
I shivered. I knew Alaric would look for me, but there was no way he’d be able to find me. It would be up to me to get back to him.
Looking up from her book to notice my shiver, the Morrigan waved her hand at the small fire in the stone fireplace, making the flames roar at full steam. She was gladly accommodating all of my needs, yet my pleas to take me back to my companions had fallen on deaf ears.
“What are you reading?” I asked, unable to sit in silence any longer. I grabbed the ends of my now-clean hair and pawed at them nervously.
“Rituals,” she muttered absently. “We’ll need to brush up to make sure we get everything right.”
“What sort of rituals?” I pressed.
She slammed the book shut suddenly and gave me her full attention. “What do you know of the legends concerning me?” she questioned abruptly.
“N-not much,” I muttered, taken aback by the sudden attention.
She laughed bitterly. “Of course you don’t. I’m sure if I asked you about Odin or Ra, you’d sing a different tune.”
Not knowing what to say, I said nothing.
She sighed. “Many legends refer to me as the Phantom Queen. In many regards, they are right. It was not always so, but near the end of my time in these lands, I had the need for an army. I called to my side the banshees and other phantoms.”
Just from what I’d learned of the Morrigan in the short time since I’d met her, I couldn’t help but believe everything she was saying. She seemed just like a banshee queen.
“If things go according to my plans, you will have the power you need to rid yourself of the foreign energy inside you,” she continued. “And our army shall protect you while your enemies are slain.”
I shivered. This was the plan I had set into motion. I couldn’t really pretend to be morally above it now.
“I have a question,” I interjected, trying my best to ignore all of the bloody implications in favor of a question that had been vexing me.
She nodded. “Go on.”
I bit my lip, not sure how to phrase what I wanted to know. Best to start from the beginning. “Several weeks before we summoned you, the key had taken me over. It kind of possessed me. When the others tried to remove it from my neck, it absorbed into my body. Long story short, I ended up meeting with one of the Norns. She conveyed that I could either die, thus taking the key with me, or I could put its energy into my child, thus giving the key human form. I rejected either option.”
The Morrigan leaned forward over her old book, listening intently.
“The key has been dormant since then,” I continued. “I felt it for a moment when you were summoned, but that’s it. I’m frightened, because when I learned to shield myself from it, it learned the same. I feel like it’s plotting something, but I have no way of telling.”
She stood abruptly and walked around the table. I tensed as she moved behind me, then jumped as her hands landed gently on my shoulders.
She was silent for several heartbeats, then removed her hands. “I can sense its presence,” she remarked as she moved around the table to reclaim her seat, “but little else. It is shielding very tightly.”
“You’re an empath too?” I asked breathlessly.
The Morrigan rolled her eyes. “As I said, you and I are the same. Any gifts you have are mine.”
I let out a shaky sigh. The fire was making it too warm in the room, and I desperately wanted some fresh air.
“What about what the Norn said?” I forced myself to ask. “She claimed th
e only way for me to be rid of the key at this point was through death, or through my child.”
The Morrigan smirked. “She was speaking in effect to who you were then, not to who you have the potential to become. Fate is a tricky thing. Her answer was in response to available solutions in that very moment, based on the person you were, and decisions you were capable of making.”
My face fell in confusion. As far as I knew, I’d always been the same person, and always would be.
She tsked at me. “You are weak, Madeline. You look to others to save you. You do not have the will to force the key out of you. You barely have the will to block it out of your thoughts. This weakness has shaped who you are, but it is also a choice.”
My face burned with a blush. “I’m not weak,” I argued. “You have no idea what I’ve been through.”
“Those are the words of a child,” the Morrigan snapped, then said sarcastically, “Poor me, I’ve fought so hard.” Her eyes hardened. “None of it matters. What matters is the person you are today. When there is danger, you look first to others for protection. When there are decisions, you yield to others, believing your opinions are invalid. You are weak.”
“Fine!” I shouted, just wanting her to shut up. “If I’m so weak, then why even waste your time on me? If I’m bound to fail, then why even try?”
Her stern expression suddenly transitioned to a sympathetic smile as her eyes went somewhat distant. “I was weak once too,” she mused.
“What changed?” I asked shakily.
Her eyes met mine. “I was forced to stand on my own. The only way to break the cycle of depending on others is to stand on your own, really on your own. The only way you can become the person you need to be to control the power inside you, is to make the choice to do it yourself.”
A few wretched tears slipped out. “That’s why you took me away from the others,” I accused. “It wasn’t because they were slowing us down.”
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