The Black Pool (Valhalla Book 3)

by Jennifer Willis

  “What happened?” Sally pressed a hand against her wet cheeks.

  “Sally, just hang back here with me, all right?” Freyr took Sally by the shoulders and pulled her away from the grass circle.

  She found herself standing outside the memorial archway with Freyr on one side of her and Loki on the other.

  “You have already taken an innocent life in your insane quest!” Freya shouted at her grandmother. “The Vanir cannot be restored with a body count.”

  Badbh laughed. She shifted her clawed toes on top of Clare’s body. “This was a willing sacrifice, granddaughter. There is no more powerful magick.”

  “Did she say Clare willingly offered herself to be slaughtered?” Sally pushed herself away from Freyr and Loki. She locked an angry glare on Badbh.

  “You must have tricked her!” Sally surged forward, no longer concerned about hearing the dark goddess’ voice echo in her thoughts. “There’s no way Clare would die for you!” Even as the words left Sally’s mouth, she wasn’t entirely sure they were true.

  Hands gripped her arms. Loki and Niall pulled her back again from the rippling grass circle. Another wave of faeries rushed past and dove headfirst into the pool.

  “She wouldn’t have done that!” Sally looked up at Niall. “Would she?”

  Niall pressed his lips together. “She wanted very badly to be a real witch, as she called it, and to practice magick in earnest. Irish magick.”

  Sally was startled by a sudden flash of light at her side. Phelan appeared in his more human form. “Begging your pardon, miss, at such an inopportune time . . .”

  “Out with it,” Niall commanded.

  Phelan cleared his throat. “It’s just that, as you know, I was the one who sold her that silly talisman to begin with, and, well, if I had known . . .”

  “Faeries are tricksters,” Loki finished the thought for him.

  “Look who’s talking,” Thor growled.

  “I simply wanted to offer you my most heartfelt and sincere apology,” Phelan said.

  Niall’s eyes grew wide. “Uh, Sally, you just had a pooka offer a debt to you.”

  Sally looked at Niall in confusion. “What?”

  “The Gentle Folk use their words rather carefully.” Loki lifted his eyebrows in Phelan’s direction. “If also somewhat liberally. A pooka’s debt is quite the ace in the hole, as the expression goes.”

  “Accept this as a token of my debt to you.” Phelan held out his hand, revealing a small, white stone glinting in his palm.

  “The other eye,” Loki said.

  Sally frowned at Phelan. “But if you were trying to get these as far away from Badbh as possible, why did you hang onto this one? And why bring it here?”

  “As for the first question, I can answer you plainly.” Phelan nodded to Loki. “We’d agreed to rid the land of this power, out of fear . . .”

  He looked around the grounds where every kind of faerie swarmed through the castle gates and dove into the grass-covered pool in a continuous stream.

  “Fear of pretty much exactly this scenario,” Phelan continued. “When I felt the Black Pool begin to stir, I thought the time had come to disperse the stones. I sold the one to your friend, thinking she was a tourist who would take the power back across the ocean with her. But then when I saw the Æsir returning alongside the Vanir crown prince and princess, I thought perhaps I had been foolish to fear.” He shrugged. “As for why I chose to bring this stone with me today, and then offer it to you, well, that’s a matter for your own conscience to puzzle out.”

  “Okay . . .” Sally said.

  Her head was hurting again. In the few hours she’d known Phelan, the pooka had alternated between obsequious fear, inappropriate politicking, and outright mockery. The last thing she’d expected was his sudden calm in the midst of chaos. She looked deep into the pooka’s eyes and felt his meaning wash over her.

  “To pass the power to a new generation,” Sally whispered. She saw the glimmer of a smile cross his face.

  A massive cyclone began to take shape in the sky above the castle gardens. Badbh cackled with delight.

  Silver light flashed in Sally’s peripheral vision, and she turned to see Phelan once more as a massive black dog beating a hasty retreat through the Garda Memorial.

  “I don’t even want to know what’s happening now,” Sally muttered.

  Badbh answered her, not within the confines of Sally’s skull but in a voice that echoed across the gardens.

  “What’s happening now, little witch, is that the time has come for my grandchildren to join me.”

  Sally sighed heavily. “Why do all the bad guys have to call me that?”

  “I’m not sure you could really classify Badbh as a bad guy, really,” Niall said. “Certainly, The Morrigan is dark, and one of Badbh’s forms is the Fury or the blood raven who flies over battlefields to collect the souls of the dead—”

  “Like a Valkyrie?” Sally asked.

  “There are many commonalities between pantheons,” Loki commented. The wind picked up and blew his long hair into his face.

  Another large group of faeries trooped by Sally on their way to the pool.

  “There are many in this land who would sympathize,” Niall added. “And not all of them would be Gentle Folk.”

  “Come!” Badbh held her arms out to Freya and Freyr. The twins stepped closer to the edge of the grass.

  “Don’t you even think about it!” Heimdall shouted in warning.

  Freya turned to Heimdall. “Whatever you think you can do here, forget about it. Your kind has no power in this land. Only Vanir can touch Vanir.”

  “Wait a minute!” Sally grabbed Loki’s arm. “Did Phelan say something about the Vanir prince and princess?”

  Loki nodded toward Freya and Freyr at the very edge of Badbh’s sacred pool.

  Sally closed her fist tight around the second stone. She turned to Loki for some kind of wisdom or reassurance, but he just shrugged. Sally took a deep breath and marched forward to join Freya and Freyr.

  “I have the other eye,” she told them, knowing Badbh could probably hear her. “I’m not going to let you do this.”

  “What is it that you think we’re going to do?” Freyr nearly laughed. “We won’t betray our people.”

  Another wave of faeries brushed past them to plunge into the depths of the Black Pool.

  “Either Vanir or Æsir,” Freyr winked at Sally. He turned to face Badbh. “Grandmother!”

  She smiled upon him. “It is time for you to assume your rightful place on the throne of Éireann!”

  Freyr planted his feet. “That was never my place. Only your hope for me.”

  He reached out for Freya’s hand on one side, and Sally’s on the other. Standing between the two wielders of the eyes of Badbh’s sacred eel, Freyr took a deep breath and lifted his chin.

  “Badbh!” he called again. The faeries in the garden froze at the sound of his voice. “Keeper of the cauldron of rebirth. Fury. Sister of The Morrigan. Queen of the shapeshifters. I call on you to stop this madness. Your slumber has confused you. The Tuatha de Danann deserve to rise again, but this is not the way.”

  Scowling in a mix of rage and frustration, Badbh reached out to him. “But I have sacrificed for you!” She shifted her weight atop Clare’s body, now almost completely submerged. “I have cleared the way for your ascension!”

  She spread her arms wide to encompass the scores of faeries who stood in the gardens, awaiting instruction. “See! Your people have come from across the land to participate in your coronation! They sacrifice themselves to the cauldron for Vanaheim’s rebirth!”

  At these words, the surrounding faeries resumed their march toward the sacred pool, each diving in as they reached the circle’s edge.

  “You’re raising an army!” Freya shouted at her grandmother.

  “Yes,” Badbh called back with a smile. “My cauldron will cleanse our people of their humiliation. We will rise up strong again, fully restored to
our former selves. We will show these mortals what real gods can do!”

  Badbh’s shoulders hunched up as her long hair was lifted on the stormy winds. Her eyes widened to the size of her clawed fists, and her mouth opened to emit a soul-wrenching howl.

  Sally’s knees nearly buckled under the shock waves of Badbh’s war cry. Freyr gripped her hand tighter and held her up.

  “She’s shifting!” Freyr shouted. “Call on the eyes!”

  Freya raised her free hand in a fist over her head, her skin glowing incandescent white as she channeled the energy of the natrolite stone. She nodded to Sally, and Sally lifted her fist as well. She felt a painful buzzing in her fingers, and it raced down her arm in a tight coil that squeezed her flesh.

  “Freyr! Son of the Vanir!” Badbh shrieked. Lightning crackled within the cyclone above, illuminating the Fury’s stark features. The pool beneath her feet glowed and started to churn in a right-hand spiral. “Rightful King of the Tuatha de Danann! I call upon you to enter the sacred waters of the Black Pool! Come to the cauldron of rebirth! Be washed clean of your exile! Soak in the power of your people and your homeland! Rise again, and claim your throne!”

  Freyr’s body shivered at the call.

  Freya turned to her brother in alarm. “Freyr, don’t!”

  He looked into his sister’s eyes. The light from the cauldron played over his face. “You have nothing to fear.”

  Clare’s body finally disappeared beneath the swirling waters. Sally groaned and tightened her fist around the stone.

  “Freyr!” Badbh called again. Clawed fingers at the ends of bony arms reached for him. The skin shrank fast against her skull, giving Badbh the face of a long-dead corpse with eyes of fire. “Enter the Black Pool and claim your destiny!”

  Sally held tight to Freyr’s hand. She stretched her other hand even higher over her head and called the power of the stone into herself.

  The shock of white-hot electricity clamped down on her heart, and Sally struggled to breathe. She tried to push the energy through her other arm to Freyr in hopes of bolstering his resolve, but she knew virtually nothing about the eel cuff and had no idea what to expect.

  She was working with the powers of The Morrigan now. Sally braced herself.

  “Respectfully, no,” Freyr replied. The wind whipped through his hair and ruffled his clothing as more lightning flashed overhead. He looked his grandmother directly in the eye.

  “I! Refuse!” he shouted.

  Badbh screeched in outrage. More faeries poured themselves into the churning grass of the goddess’ cauldron as Badbh lifted one hand over her head and pointed another directly at Freyr.

  “You will be reborn!” she screamed. A bolt of lightning streaked into her upturned fingers from the cyclone above. The energy sparked through her withered frame and shot out through her other arm to strike Freyr full in the chest.

  A ball of electricity engulfed Freyr. Sally felt his grip tighten on her hand.

  “Sally, hold on!” Freya shouted.

  Sally squeezed the white stone with all her might. She tried again to direct the stone’s energy from her body into Freyr’s, but Badbh’s blast was too strong. As the electric current dissipated into the ground, Freyr slumped forward. Freya and Sally couldn’t hold him as he fell face-first into the Black Pool and disappeared beneath its swirling surface.

  “Freyr!” Sally dropped to her knees and reached toward the water to grab hold of him, but Freya pulled her back.

  “Freyr!” Sally cried again. “You have to let me save him!”

  “Sally, you can’t touch the water!” Freya held Sally close as she fell back onto the pavement. “The cauldron will absorb you, too.”

  Badbh looked on her granddaughter with a satisfied smile. “It is his destiny, child.”

  The water roiled violently. Sally’s jaw dropped as Freyr rose from the grassy waters to stand beside his grandmother. He looked unchanged, except for his green-tinged skin and eyes that burned like icy topaz. Sally noted the newly pointed shape of his ears.

  “Oh,” Sally cried. “This is so not good.”

  “Resurrection, young one,” Badbh called to Freya. Freyr stood as still as a statue at his grandmother’s side. “There’s room here for you as well. You are a goddess among our people. You are their healer and their rightful protector. Do not deny your birthright. ”

  “Sally,” Freya whispered into the girl’s ear. “We have to move quickly, okay?”

  Before Sally could respond, Freya yanked Sally up to her feet.

  “What now?” Sally looked to Freya, whose determined gaze was focused on Badbh.

  “Just follow my lead,” Freya said just loud enough to be heard over the storm.

  Bracing against the wind, Freya took Sally’s hand and walked her forward to stand at the water’s edge. Sally swallowed hard when she saw the legions of faeries—pixies, leprechauns, even serpent-looking creatures—rising up behind Freyr and Badbh. The renewed creatures were so much taller and sturdier than before. Still more faeries flocked forward to throw themselves into the dark waters.

  “The Tuatha de Danann reclaim this land!” Badbh turned her face to the cyclone above. “Vanaheim is reborn!”

  “Now!” Freya shouted. Still gripping Sally’s hand, Freya punched the air in front of her with the fist that held Badbh’s eel stone. A second later, Sally did the same. Beams of amber light shot out from Sally and Freya’s clenched fists. The twin streams converged to engulf Badbh.

  “Badbh! Keeper of the sacred cauldron! Sister of the Triple Morrigan!” Freya called in a strong voice even as tears ran down her cheeks. “I commit you to your duty, guarding the Black Pool of rebirth, where you will slumber and be disturbed no more.”

  “NO!” Badbh held her bony hands against her emaciated face and screamed. Her howl echoed in the voices of the reborn faeries as the churning waters rose up to reclaim them.

  Sally held Freya’s hand tight. Badbh collapsed in on herself in the amber glow, and the waters swelled to absorb her cringing form.

  When only Freyr was left standing at the center of the pool, Sally started to lower her arm to disengage the light.

  “Hold tight, Sally.” Freya squeezed Sally’s hand harder and directed the beam at Freyr.

  “What are you doing?!” Sally screamed.

  Freya locked eyes with her brother. He seemed to take a deep breath before he offered a sad smile and a familiar shrug. Then he, too, sank beneath the surface of the water.

  Badbh’s cyclone evaporated. The skies above grew calm, and the Black Pool was once again a simple grass circle at the center of the castle garden.

  Freya let go of Sally’s hand. She slipped the stone eye into her pocket.

  “Are they all dead?” Sally asked. “Is Badbh gone for good?”

  Freya sat down at the edge of the circle. She ran her hands over the damp grass and kicked her feet on the pavement.

  “What about Freyr?” Sally asked again, then turned to Heimdall and Thor for help.

  The Æsir brothers walked to the edge of the circle, their faces grim.

  “I didn’t think it would come to this,” Thor muttered.

  “We’ll get him back.” Heimdall knelt next to Freya. “We’ll find a way.”

  Freya shook her head and buried her face in her hands.

  “No,” she sobbed. “He’s gone.”

  Loki stepped up behind Sally. “I’m afraid this is far from over.”

  13

  Freya curled into a ball in one of the chair’s in Sally’s sitting room. She heard the others whispering around her, giving her space.

  Freyr! Her heart and soul cried out for her brother. She clenched her hands into fists as if she could grab hold of him and physically pull him back from Badbh’s underworld. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to think of a magickal working or incantation—anything that might change the last six hours.

  But Freya was exhausted. Her red eyes stung from too many tears. Freyr belonged to Badbh now.<
br />
  “Would you like some tea?” Sally knelt on the floor next to Freya’s chair and touched the goddess lightly on the arm. “We have all kinds . . .”

  Sally’s voice trailed off, and Freya looked into the girl’s face. The Moon Witch was still so young. She was dealing with her own loss and managed a brave face for Freya’s benefit.

  Freya pushed her hair out of her eyes and sat up in the chair. “I think I’d like that.”

  Sally smiled and went to the kitchen.

  Freya looked up and found Heimdall and Thor standing on either side of her chair.

  “Did you know?” Heimdall asked.

  Freya could have pretended she didn’t understand his meaning, but where was the point in that?

  “That Badbh was after Freyr?” she replied. “I had a pretty good idea.”

  “That’s why you wanted him to return to Portland,” Heimdall said. “And why you didn’t want him anywhere near that talisman.”

  Freya nearly laughed. “If you’ll recall, I didn’t want to touch that thing either. Not until the time was right.”

  She looked up at Thor. His eyes were moist, his face red. She waited for his words of regret and consolation, but he gritted his teeth and stomped his foot instead. The books Sally had put back on the shelf fell to the floor.

  “You should have warned us!” Thor shouted. “How could you have been so reckless?”

  “Brother.” Heimdall grabbed Thor’s wrist and tried to pull him away.

  “No!” Thor wrenched his arm from Heimdall’s grasp and bent over Freya, his angry breath puffing in her face. “We lost a good man today. We lost Freyr! How could you have kept this to yourself?! How could you have let the Moon Witch come to Ireland with this danger lurking so near the surface? A silly ring of local marble was supposed to keep her safe? And then you dragged all of us into this, had us face off against the freaking Morrigan, only to come to a temporary resolution and still lose Freyr?!”

  “Enough!” Niall stepped into the apartment from the outer hall, and Loki shut the door behind him. Thor turned and stood upright as Niall narrowed his eyes and advanced on him.

  “You didn’t face off against Badbh!” Niall gestured to Freya. “She did. It was Freya and Freyr and Sally. You and your brother just stood around and watched.”