"The Mistress promised me some playtime," he growls in a raspy, disgustingly sultry voice. "So good of you to come."
"Who are you?" Dewi asks, her magic flaring around her arms, ready to be unleashed.
"My name is Cristian and I'm the Morrigan's personal representative in this Realm."
I snicker loudly. "Not for much longer."
He turns his eyes on me... ehm, his eye. It's bloodshot and surrounded by tiny warts. Yucky. It's almost a pity that demons don't have an aura to hide their faces. For once, I'd quite like to not see someone's expression.
"Who wants to be first?" he asks and suddenly, a large spiked mace appears in his hand. There's dried blood on the spikes, presumably a souvenir from his last victim.
"How about you?" I ask and shove some icicles towards him. They never reach him though, breaking into a million tiny shards a foot in front of him. There's a barrier I didn't notice. How did I not realise? I concentrate but I still can't feel anything in the air between us. Strange, does that mean I can't recognise demon magic? That's a scary thought.
At least I can sense them… well, not this one. He seems to be more powerful than the demons we’ve encountered in this castle before. I hope he’s the only one of his kind.
I conjure some more icicles and fire them at him from behind, but again, there’s an invisible barrier that stops them. He laughs at my efforts. This is becoming tedious. If ice won’t work, then I’ll show him that I have other magic at my disposal.
I create a giant fireball and throw it at him from above, while at the same time funnelling a small tornado all around him to dispel the barrier. His grin disappears and makes way to a concentrated frown. His barrier is finally giving way and the first sparks of my fireball reach him. He screams as flames lick at his skin. Some of the sores on his face burst as they get in contact with the fire and his wails increase. He’s looking even more disgusting now, with burns and weird slime covering his skin. Let’s end this quickly so I don’t have to look at him anymore.
I fan the flames with my magic and throw an icicle at his heart for good measure. This time, it reaches its target and with a squelching sound, embeds itself in the demon’s chest. He stares at me in surprise, then crumples to the floor, dead.
“What a weirdo,” Dewi mutters and steps over the corpse, her aura full of disgust. A cry from the end of the corridor makes us run again. Flora sounds like she’s in agony. The stupid demon distracted us for too long.
We reach a thick wooden door. It’s locked, but Storm blasts it open with his wind magic until it splinters and bangs open. I’m the first to step into the room and have to stop the bile from rising in my throat. We’re inside a torture chamber.
Strange instruments litter the walls and shelves, iron chains hang from the ceiling and very painful looking contraptions are standing all around. I recognise an Iron Maiden in the corner, even though I know that they were never actually used on Earth, they were a Victorian invention for curiosity cabinets. I push that useless fact from my mind. This really isn’t the time.
A large metal table is in the centre of the room and on it, Flora, her arms and legs shackles so she’s in a spread eagle position. She’s naked, too, and I can’t even imagine the humiliation she must be experiencing. She’s a Goddess, and here she is, completely exposed and at someone else’s mercy.
Her face is covered in bruises and sweat, and there are bloody lash marks all over her body. She’s suffered. All I want is to free her and take her into my arms, healing her wounds, but there’s one tiny problem to deal with first. The person who did this to her. No, not a person. A monster.
“Oh look, we have guests.”
The Morrigan materialises in front of the torture table, dressed in a long black gown and wearing a silver crown. Look at that, she fancies herself a Queen already. Not if I can help it.
“This ends now,” I growl and create a barrier all around us. I know Dewi could probably create her own, but I’m the most powerful one of all of us.
“Oh yes, it certainly will.” She laughs. “I’ve waited for you to come and try and free your friend. Isn’t she pretty? I’ve had a lot of fun with her.”
Rage overwhelms all rational thought and I throw all the magic I have at her. Fire, wind, ice, water, even a mental attack. Most of it crashes against a barrier she’s created, but one of my weapons reaches her.
She gasps in pain and looks down at herself. Her gaze wanders to me, her eyes widened in shock, then she keels over, the icicle embedded in her heart. Red blood is flowing from the wound, drenching her dress. I want to cheer and celebrate, but something is wrong. This was too easy. Far too easy. If it was this simple to kill the Morrigan, someone would have already done it.
“Stay on your guard,” I whisper to the others and use my magic to feel around the room. “This isn’t over yet.”
Crispin bends down beside the Morrigan’s body and runs his hands over it, his healing magic springing into action.
“She’s dead,” he confirms, but then his aura turns the turquoise colour of surprise. “She’s… No, this can’t be. She’s a Guardian. The Morrigan isn’t a Goddess.”
Suddenly, everything makes sense. Why she was so easy to kill. How she was able to speak to Angus and be in Flora’s dungeon at the same time.
“That’s because this isn’t the real Morrigan,” I say slowly. “This was a clone, like the Crispin imposters.”
A flash of light fills the room, followed by an amused cackle in a very familiar voice.
The Morrigan appears from a cloud of smoke, clapping loudly. “Finally. Well done, sweetie. I’m glad you got rid of her so quickly, killing dragons was getting boring.”
Dewi screams in anger and rage, and suddenly, there’s a dragon by my side, only a fraction of her usual size, but large enough to be a formidable foe. I didn’t know dragons could control their size, but it sure comes in handy in a confined space such as this room. She bares her teeth and a stream of icy breath hurtles towards the Morrigan, but she easily deflects it, laughing as if this was all a game.
“I’m going to enjoy having three Goddesses stuffed in my museum,” she cackles. “You, Wyn, will be the centrepiece. I’ll make dear little Crispin clean your dead body daily so you won’t gather dust.”
“What an honour.” I sneer. “But I’m afraid you’re not going to be here for long enough to do that.”
I pull at the bond that connects me to my Guardians, the signal we agreed. When we planned how to take down the Morrigan, we didn’t think Dewi would be in the room, so she’s not aware of our plan. I hope she’ll catch on though.
Storm and Frost let out battle cries and run at the Morrigan, their swords blazing. She swats them away like flies, but it’s enough of a distraction for Arc to launch a mental attack. Beira created the Morrigan to have incredible physical and magical powers, but she didn’t give her particularly impressive mental strength. She frowns, but then decides that Arc doesn’t pose a threat to her. A sword appears in her hand and she swings it around a few times, almost playfully. Storm stalks her from behind, but without turning around, she sends a ball of black magic that crashes into his chest, throwing him against the wall. He looks dazed, but he gets up and joins his brother. We all know that they have no chance against her, but they’re just there to keep her occupied for now.
I’m busy weaving a net of magic, made of all the elements I have control over, even earth, the most volatile of them all. While I’m doing that, Arc is still trying to weaken her mental barriers, while Crispin has run to Flora’s side, his hands already forming patterns over her injured body. He gives me a nod. Good, she’ll be alright.
Dewi roars again and launches herself at the Morrigan – and slams against an invisible barrier that wasn’t there moments ago. She wails in pain, blood running down her face. She growls in anger and pushes against the barrier, her claws raking against it. It’s too strong, but the dragon doesn’t give in.
My net is almost done when the M
orrigan suddenly laughs. It’s the worst possible sound. She extends a hand, her fingers stretched into claws, and points at Crispin. He freezes, terror filling his aura. I don’t know if she’s using magic on him or if it’s just a mind fuck, but Crispin has stopped healing Flora and is now slowly moving toward the Morrigan.
“That’s it, my pet,” she purrs. “Come to mummy. I’ve missed you.”
I want to throw up in disgust. Frost and Storm are trying to distract her, but with a flick of her other hand, both are flung against the wall and stay there, suspended against the stone, unable to move. Dewi is still trying to get through the barrier and Arc’s got his eyes closed, focussing on breaking the Morrigan’s mind. I’m the only one left.
I complete the final knot of my magic net and throw it at the Morrigan. Miraculously, it passes through the barrier, just like I’d hoped. It’s too many different kinds of magic at once, and it confuses the barrier. As soon as the net touches the Morrigan, she screams in pain. Her hold on Storm and Frost breaks and they fall to the floor, weak but conscious.
Crispin has stopped moving towards his creator, but he’s not retreating either.
The Morrigan tries to get the net off her, but whenever she uses one kind of magic against it, it changes. This was Algonquin’s idea, something he’d read about in the library.
I focus on the net to figure out what magic is most harmful to the Morrigan. Earth and fire. I smile. Earth is difficult in here without toppling the castle, but fire is easy. We’re surrounded by an active volcano, and fire magic is permeating the air around me.
I slowly change the configuration of the net and add some more fire magic. Flames begin to flicker all around the Morrigan and she curses as they touch her skin.
“You have fire magic.” Her eyes are wide as she stares at the flames licking on her dress. “Your mother didn’t.”
I push more magic into the fire. “I’m not my mother.”
I can see the moment the penny drops. She knew my mother couldn’t kill her. She relied on that still to be true. She thought we were here just to capture her. I almost want to laugh at her disbelief.
“You won’t succeed,” she hisses and suddenly, black magic surrounds her, quenching the flames. Oh no, you don’t. I grasp more magic from deep inside of me and pour it into the remains of the net. The Morrigan’s succeeding in not letting it burn her, but she doesn’t have the strength to go on the offensive again. Just how I want to have her.
“Crispin?” I shout. “Do you want to do it?”
At first, he doesn’t respond and I’m about to ask one of the other guys when he nods slowly. Like in a trance, he moves towards the Morrigan, catching the sword that Storm throws him. She turns to him, shock reflecting on her face. She knows this is the end.
My magic is fighting me, almost spent, but I force her to keep the flames alive, trapping the Morrigan in place. It’s not been a long fight, but I’ve never used this much magic at once. My body is getting weaker and I feel myself sway, but then Dewi is there, steadying me.
Crispin stops in front of the Morrigan, the tip of his sword pointing at her chest.
“I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time,” he whispers. “I really hope there’s no afterlife.”
My vision begins to flicker, but I can’t stop now. More magic is needed.
“Now!” I shout just when my grip on my magic loosens. Crispin lunges forward, the sword slicing into the Morrigan’s chest, ripping through flesh and piercing her black heart.
I smile and crumble to the ground, unable to stand any longer. The flicker in front of my eyes changes and suddenly, a flash of light erases the auras that have hidden my Guardian’s faces from me. I can see them again.
For about two seconds, before I’m thrown into the dark room without warning.
“Is she dead?” Angus asks before anyone else can say something. “The demons suddenly stopped fighting. We weren’t sure if it’s a trick or not.”
“Yes, she’s dead,” I say, smiling. I rub my eyes, unable to believe that we didn’t just defeat the Morrigan, but that I also got my old vision back. I’ll be able to see them properly again. Look into their eyes. Admire their faces.
I feel free for the first time in ages. Despite all the work that still needs doing, a massive weight has been lifted from my shoulders. The Morrigan is dead. My mothers have been avenged.
Now, we can finally live in peace.
Epilogue
One week later
I wish I could say that we all just went home and had a cup of tea. No, there was still work to do. Some of the demons didn’t lay down their weapons, and neither did some of the Morrigan’s allies. While we’d been busy fighting her clone, she’d called her allied Gods and they came with their armies. The battle raged for two days until the last God was defeated. There were losses on both sides, but not as heavy as they could have been had the Morrigan still been there to control her demons.
Algonquin died in battle, killed by a higher demon who’d crept up on him from behind. Ever since we got back, Zephyr has been locked inside his chambers, refusing to open the door even for me. I’ve decided to let him grieve in peace while making sure he knows I’m there to support him. Luckily, he’s been the only one of my close allies who died. Some are wounded, including Gwain who is nursing an injury to his back that almost killed him, but Crispin says they’ll all recover.
All in all, we really have achieved a victory. Most of the husbands and wives of those who fought in the battle were able to welcome home their loved ones.
Dewi is mourning several of her dragons, and I’ve promised to attend the official mourning ceremony in her Realm soon. First though, there’s a funeral here that I need to go to.
Beira is being cremated today and I’m so not ready. There was no body when my mum died, so I see it as the funeral for both of my mothers, by birth and adoption. How blessed was I to have two mums, even if I didn’t always see it like that. I wish I’d had more time to spend with Beira. The memories in my mind sometimes make it feel like she’s talking to me from beyond the veil, but I know that isn’t really her. Still, the knowledge that I’m carrying a part of her within me helps with the grief.
“She’d be so proud of you.”
Tamara enters the room, wearing a black dress similar to my own. A silver snowflake brooch rests above her bosom, a sign of her love for Beira. The crown weighs heavily on my head, another reminder that I’m on my own now. No mother to hold my hand and guide me. I have my Council and my advisors, but it’s not the same. Tamara is the only one of them who understands me completely. Ada, too, but she’s left for the Dragon Realm, saying she’s got some unfinished business there. Two of her men were injured in the battle, but Crispin managed to heal them pretty quickly. They won’t even be left with scars.
Not physical ones, anyway. I think most of us carry an assortment of mental scars. Seeing the blood, the dying, the cruelty of the demons; it all leaves a trace. I’ve been having nightmares, but having the Guardians with me makes them better. I’ve kept them close, not letting them stray too far from me. The fear of losing them now that the battle is over is irrational, I know that, but I can’t help it. They are fine with my clinginess though, especially at night.
I smile when I think of yesterday evening, how we all ended up on the floor, our limbs entwined, our souls connected by kisses and gentle touches. I did say I’d lock myself into my chambers with them to have some alone time, but there’s too much to do. There are going to be trials against those who allied with the Morrigan. Negotiations with Angus will start soon to draw up new contracts that will ensure no more war between our Realms. There might even be trade agreements. I don’t think I’ll ever be friends with Angus, but for the moment, he seems content to stick to his own Realm and keep the balance. Dewi has helped a lot with that. She’s not just his step-daughter, but also a Goddess who’s part of our quartet of seasons. She gives him two reasons to not start a war again any time soon.
> “We should go,” Tamara reminds me gently and I turn to her, nodding. I need to be strong now. Half the Realm has assembled to bid their Mother farewell, and I’ll be the one to light the pyre. It’s an old-fashioned ceremony, not at all like a funeral on Earth, but the memories and knowledge Beira endowed me with will hopefully guide me through it.
“I’m ready.”
I’m not, but let’s pretend I am.
I take her hand and teleport us onto Bald Peak, a low but wide hill not far from the Palace. Thousands of people are assembled here, forming concentric circles around the large wooden funeral pyre. On it, Beira’s remains are wrapped in a golden cloth, embroidered with tiny silver snowflakes. Most people are wearing snowflake brooches to honour not just Beira, but all the dead of the Winter Realm. She may be the one on the pyre, but we’re remembering all the battle’s victims today.
I take my place in front of the pyre, where my father and my Guardians are already waiting for me. They’re wearing black suits, even Arc. This may be the first time I’ve seen him without a kilt.
“You okay?” Crispin asks and I nod, my eyes fixed on the pyre. I don’t want to look at the crowd and meet anyone’s eyes. The other Gods form the closest circle, most of them familiar, some strangers who stayed neutral during the battle. They’ve all come to say farewell to my mother. Blaze is standing next to Ada and her men, his horn covered in black gauze as a sign of respect. He didn’t take part in the battle, but he helped carry messages back and forth with his unique teleporting magic. I hope he’s here to stay, not because of his sparklies, but because I like him as a non-person.
I take a deep breath and use some magic to enhance my voice so all can hear me.
“Today we honour Beira, the Mother of Gods, the Queen of the Winter Realm, the Goddess who kept watch over all life from the dawn of time. She may have left her mortal body behind, but she will always keep guard over this Realm through those who’ve been touched by her grace.”
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