Divine by Blood

by P. C. Cast

  Her eyes opened and she gasped in pain. Her vision was blurred and her eyes stung. Actually, her entire body hurt like she had a killer cold.

  “Rest, Light Bringer. All is well.”

  The voice was kind and familiar. Morrigan closed her eyes, and something cool was pressed against them, helping to relieve some of the stinging burn. Then a cup was placed to her lips, and automatically she drank something that tasted like sweet cough medicine mixed with red wine.

  “Sleep now. You are home,” the voice said.

  Home…sleep…the seductive voice in her mind repeated with a tantalizing whisper.

  Morrigan felt as if she had little choice as the syrupy drink led her back into unconsciousness.

  * * *

  When she woke up again Morrigan ran her tongue around her disgustingly dry mouth. Bleck! G-pa would say her mouth tasted like the bottom of a birdcage. Oh, man, she felt terrible! Did she have to go to school today? Wait, no, it was summer. The end of summer. She was getting ready to go off to college and—

  “Drink, my Lady. It will soothe your throat.”

  My Lady? Why was she being called that?

  Because it is your right. The words weren’t in the wind around her, nor coming to her through the touch of crystal. This time they echoed softly inside her head, which did nothing but add to the confusion in Morrigan’s mind.

  “Here, my Lady, drink.”

  Gentle hands helped lift her, and a cup of cool water was pressed against her lips. Morrigan drank thirstily. Then she opened her eyes. The light was dim and her vision was blurry. She blinked and rubbed her eyes. Her mind was as messed up as her vision. What was going on? Had she been at a party? She usually showed better sense than to get wasted. G-pa was going to kill her. Even though she was grown and practically on her own, he still got pissed if she—

  Wait. She hadn’t been at a party. She’d been at the cave with her friends.

  Morrigan forced her eyes open again. Her vision swam briefly, and then, as if someone had adjusted the tracking on G-pa’s ancient VCR player, everything—her vision and her memory—popped into focus. The first thing she noticed was the woman who was sitting on a fur-covered stool beside her, smiling kindly.

  Morrigan’s eyes went wide in surprise. “Grandma!”

  The woman’s smile faltered only a little. “Welcome, Light Bringer,” she said in a sweet, soft voice that mirrored her grandma’s completely—except it was missing its distinctive Oklahoma accent. “I am Birkita, High Priestess to Adsagsona.” The woman stood, and then dropped almost to the floor in a deep, respectful curtsy. “In the name of the Goddess I welcome you home, and rejoice that we have been gifted with a Light Bringer.”

  Morrigan opened her mouth. Shut it. And finally opened it again to say, “You’re not my grandma.”

  The dark-haired woman tilted her familiar face up. Her smile was kind, but her brow was wrinkled with confusion. “No, my Lady. I am of an age to be a grandmother, but I chose to swear chasteness in the Goddess’s service when I was a young woman, so I have no children, nor grandchildren.”

  Morrigan wiped a shaky hand over her face. “I’m sorry, I’m just…” She trailed off, trying to sort through the questions in her mind. She couldn’t stop staring at the woman who knelt in front of her. She looked like her grandma! Except that G-ma always kept her dark hair cut short, so that she looked like a pixie, and this woman’s hair was obviously long, neatly braided in a thick plait that hung heavily down her back. Morrigan looked closer and saw that her hair was a lot grayer than G-ma’s. Actually, she looked older in general than her grandma. Her face was more heavily lined, her skin more transparent. Grandma had always seemed ageless to Morrigan. Sure, she was old, but she was filled with energy and rarely sick. This version of her looked like her frail twin sister. She was dressed in a beautiful leather dress that reminded Morrigan of the ceremonial outfits Native American women wore to Oklahoma powwows; only, this dress wasn’t decorated with fringe and feathers. Instead, between the beadwork were embroidered elaborate designs of knots that wound around and around in mazelike detail. With a little start Morrigan realized the woman was still crouching as she gawked at her like an idiot. “Oh! Get up!” she said hastily, and then added an uncomfortable, “Please.”

  The woman who looked like her grandma but called herself Birkita rose as gracefully as she had knelt, and resumed her place on the fur-padded stool beside Morrigan’s bed. As if she was unable to control her mouth, Morrigan blurted, “Where am I?”

  “You are in the Caves of the Sidetha.”

  Morrigan’s stomach clenched, and she wasn’t sure if it was with fear or excitement. “That’s not in Oklahoma, is it?”

  Birkita’s brow furrowed again. “Oklahoma? I am sorry, my Lady, I do not know that Keep.” She paused and added, “Is it in the southern Realms of Partholon? I have never traveled far from our caves, and much of Partholon is unfamiliar to me.”

  Morrigan gasped and she felt as if her heart was going to pound out of her body. “Partholon!” She breathed the name like a prayer, making Birkita smile. “I’m in Partholon?”

  “You are, indeed, Light Bringer.”

  “Am I dead?”

  Birkita’s musical laugh mirrored her grandma’s completely, making her suddenly look a decade younger, “No, my Lady. You are very much alive, though I worried for your life when you first emerged from the sacred rock.”

  “Sacred rock? I don’t understand…” But even as Morrigan spoke she remembered how she’d glimpsed another cave through the selenite boulder. Then, with a shock, she also remembered her mother’s spirit materializing within the boulder in front of her, and how Rhiannon had guided her from drowning in the quicksandlike liquid.

  “The sacred crystal rock in the Usgaran.”

  “The huge boulder made of selenite crystal.” Morrigan’s voice sounded faint. “I—I escaped through it.”

  “Escaped, my Lady?”

  “There was a cave-in. I—I would have been killed if I hadn’t gone through the boulder.” Kyle had been killed. The memory hit her with enough force that it made her hands shake. Birkita instantly leaned forward, patting her and making consoling, grandma noises.

  “But you weren’t killed, my Lady. Adsagsona’s hand was upon you. The Goddess saved you and guided you home to your people.” Birkita touched Morrigan’s face gently, almost reverently. “The Goddess came to me in my dreams last night. Adsagsona spoke to me and told me that she had Chosen a Light Bringer, that we would know her because she would be born through the sacred crystal. I witnessed your birth myself, Daughter of the Goddess, Light Bringer, Chosen of Adsagsona.”

  There was a deafening hum in Morrigan’s ears, like she was standing inside a giant seashell.

  “I have to see the sacred rock,” Morrigan said, sitting abruptly and swinging her feet from the wide, fur-lined pallet on which she lay. Birkita rushed to help her, and Morrigan was glad for the strength of her touch, as dizziness blurred her vision and jellied her knees.

  “Carefully, my Lady. You are still very weak.”

  “I’m fine. I’m fine. I just need to see the boulder.” She hadn’t meant to sound so short, like she was giving orders to Birkita who looked like Grandma. It was just that she felt the sudden compulsion to be near the selenite boulder so intensely that it was almost a physical pain.

  “Of course, my Lady,” Birkita murmured as she took a firm hold of Morrigan’s elbow, and helped support her first few awkward steps.

  Morrigan was vaguely aware that Birkita was leading her from the room in which she’d awakened through a round tunnel that was somehow lit with a soft, blue-white light. In the back of her mind was the thought that she should be looking around, observing her surroundings, taking in the landscape of her new home. But she was so focused on reaching the boulder—touching the crystal—that her world had narrowed to that one driving need.

  Morrigan had no idea how long they had been walking, when the tunnel emptied into an ee
rily familiar room. She could instantly tell it was a mirror image of the Encampment Room of Oklahoma’s Alabaster Caves. It had the same low ceiling and flat floor. A stream ran though the side of the room, and the walls formed natural, shelflike ledges. But in this world, the room was draped with lush furs and filled with women who were talking and laughing—until they caught sight of Morrigan and Birkita.

  Morrigan barely noticed the women and the changes in the room. Her entire being was focused on the beautiful crystal boulder that rested, like an enormous, magical egg in the center of the room. Shaking off Birkita’s help, she stumbled to it, surprised and thrilled to see that her passage through the boulder hadn’t ripped it in half. Actually, it looked exactly as it had in Oklahoma, minus the gaudy artificial pink lighting. With a happy cry that sounded a lot like a sob, Morrigan pressed her palms against the boulder. The response was immediate and so forceful that she felt as if she’d grabbed onto a live wire, but instead of shocking her, the current of power was filling her and making her complete.

  Light Bringer!

  “Yes! It’s me. I—I need you,” Morrigan blurted, not sure of anything except the need. Thankfully, the crystal understood.

  We hear you, Light Bringer.

  The flood of electric power changed, heated, increased, until little by little the tightness in Morrigan’s chest began to loosen and the deafening confusion and numbing shock in her mind cleared. Her breath came slower and the pounding in her heart changed to a normal, steady beat. Logic and reason returned to her, along with the knowledge that Birkita must be her grandma’s mirror image, just as Shannon and Rhiannon had been mirrors of one another.

  Morrigan was in Partholon.

  The knowledge thrilled her, filling her with incredible happiness as well as great sorrow. She had changed worlds, just as her mother before her had. Morrigan really had no idea how she’d managed to get there, so chances were pretty good that she would probably not know how to get back. Which meant she would never see her grandpa and grandma, her friends or the future she’d imagined for herself again. G-pa and G-ma would be devastated. Morrigan closed her eyes against the pain it caused her to think about how sad they would be without her.

  They’d know she was alive and in Partholon, wouldn’t they? Surely they’d figure that out when Kyle’s body was the only one found in the cave-in rubble. Morrigan felt tears leak from her eyes and wash her cheeks. Maybe they’d be just a tiny bit relieved that she had finally left the world she’d never truly belonged to and found her way to the land of her mother—found her way to her destiny.

  Daughter of the Goddess…Light Bringer…Chosen…The titles Birkita had named her echoed around and around her mind as the truth of what had happened settled through her.

  She was in Partholon, her mother’s land. She was no longer a freak, someone who didn’t belong. She had been Chosen by a goddess.

  Morrigan was home.

  Yes, Light Bringer! You are home!

  The jubilant spirits in the crystals sang through her skin, warming her body and her soul.

  “I’m home,” Morrigan whispered. Then she opened her eyes and gazed in wonder at the crystal that glistened beneath her hands. “I’m home,” she said more loudly. Then she drew a deep breath, and with a grin added, “I’m home, so light the place up for me!”

  We hear you and we gladly do your will, Light Bringer!

  The boulder blazed under her hands with a light that had the purity and beauty of a perfect diamond. With a grin, Morrigan lifted her arms and pointed at the crystal-encrusted ceiling. “Up there, too!” There was a crackle in the air and the ceiling of the room blazed into crystalline brilliance.

  “Wow,” Morrigan whispered, tilting her head back to gaze at the glistening stones. “It’s totally amazing.”

  “Blessed be the Light Bringer, and blessed be Adsagsona!”

  Morrigan was startled out of her reverie by her grandma’s voice filled with happiness. Her eyes moved from the shining crystals to the woman who was so like her grandma—and was shocked to see that Birkita had dropped to her knees. Her face was damp with tears, but she was smiling lovingly at Morrigan. “Hail, Light Bringer!” she shouted, and the cry was taken up by the other women in the room, all of whom had also fallen to their knees.

  This isn’t Grandma, Morrigan told herself sternly. And I’m not in Oklahoma anymore.

  No, you are not. You are home…the voice whispered through her mind, seductive, beguiling.

  Are you my mother? Are you Rhiannon? Morrigan shot the mental question back, but only the cryptic Embrace your destiny…flitted through her mind in a reply that seemed more mocking than helpful.

  The glistening of the crystals in the ceiling sputtering and then going out broke Morrigan’s internal questing, and brought her back to awareness of the external. She was shocked anew to be standing in the center of the room, surrounded by kneeling women who were all crying openly with happiness. She cleared her throat, completely clueless about what was expected of her.

  “Er, hum. Well. Thank you for such a nice welcome.” With an effort, she didn’t roll her eyes at her own moronness. “Please, there’s no need for you to kneel to me. You can stand up,” she added quickly, but she admitted to herself that, even though it overwhelmed her, she liked the respect the women were all showing her. Then a movement caught at the corner of her eye and Morrigan turned her head to see that what she had at first glance assumed was just another fur pelt was actually an enormous cat that leaped gracefully from one of the ledges to stretch languorously while its huge amber eyes studied her with obvious intelligence.

  “Holy crap, that’s a big cat!” Morrigan blurted.

  With soft laughter, the women rose. Grandma, no, Birkita, Morrigan mentally corrected herself, said, “She is Brina, a cave lynx and a familiar of Adsagsona’s priestesses. She has not moved from that spot since the Goddess appeared in my dream and told me of your coming.”

  Entranced by the feral beauty of the big cat, Morrigan felt a rush of pleasure when Brina approached her, and then, delicately sniffed the hand she automatically offered. As if finding her acceptable, the animal began rubbing around Morrigan’s legs, purring with all the subtlety of a lawn-mower engine.

  “You are a pretty, pretty girl,” Morrigan crooned. The cat was so huge that she didn’t have to bend down to let her fingertips caress the incredibly soft fur of her back. When Morrigan glanced up at Birkita, she saw that she, along with the rest of the half dozen or so women, were smiling in approval at her. “I think she likes me.”

  “She recognizes one Chosen by the Goddess,” Birkita said.

  Those words, Chosen by the Goddess, seemed a tangible thing. They caused the small hairs at the back of Morrigan’s neck to prickle, and her eyes to unexpectedly fill with tears.

  Birkita was beside her in an instant, touching her arm with grandmotherly reassurance. “You must be very hungry, Light Bringer. The workers will be returning from the tunnels, and the evening meal awaits them and us. Will you join us, or would you rather retire to your chamber to eat and regain your strength in privacy?”

  Morrigan cleared her throat and got a handle on her composure. “No, I’d like to eat with you.” She paused and smiled at the women standing around them. “With all of you. I’m not tired, but I am hungry.” Touching the selenite boulder and being greeted as Light Bringer by the spirits of the cave had filled her with an energy that had chased away the last of the exhaustion that changing worlds had caused. Now she wanted food, and then she wanted to begin exploring her amazing new home.

  “As you wish, my Lady,” Birkita murmured. “This is the way to the Great Chamber.” With a smile, the woman who looked like her grandma led her from the room that mirrored the Encampment Room. With the big cat padding silently by her side, Morrigan followed Birkita to dinner, and to her future.

  CHAPTER 3

  The Great Chamber was carved from the room that Kyle had described on their tour as the deepest part of the cavern. Thi
nking about him made her heart hurt, but Morrigan pushed aside the tragedy of Kyle’s death and remembered the awe she’d felt that day when she’d intuitively known, even before he’d told the group, that from floor to ceiling the room was at least fifty feet, which put it about eighty feet below the surface. When she and Birkita came to the chamber she recognized it, but only vaguely. That cavernous, rough, rock-littered room in Oklahoma was just a crude shadow of its magnificent Partholonian twin. Morrigan paused on the threshold, holding her breath with wonder.

  The huge chamber was buzzing with people who flitted about with food and drink between the long rows of what looked to Morrigan like picnic tables carved from rock the color of butter. Limestone…the identity of the stone came to her as she brushed her fingers against the smooth side of the room’s entryway. She accepted the knowledge easily, sending automatic, silent thanks to the spirits in the stone. Actually, she was too busy gawking at the room and the people in it to give much thought to the addition of yet another layer to the magic that surrounded her.

  The room was surprisingly well lighted from lots of open blue-white flames burning in stone basins resting atop pedestals that were so beautifully carved with designs that they looked more like stone flowers unfolding to hold flames within their petals than containers of rock. With a little start, Morrigan realized that she’d seen those same flame holders in the Encampment Room, as well as intermittently along the tunnels, and she wondered what could possibly burn with such a bright, smokeless light. But her eyes didn’t stay on the flames; they were drawn to the walls of the cavern that were encrusted with exquisite mosaics that brought alive the animals and people and landscapes they depicted.

  “It’s amazing…” Morrigan breathed. “So beautiful.”

  “Come, Light Bringer. You should take the place of honor.”

  Wordlessly, Morrigan let Birkita lead her into the chamber to what was obviously the head table. Behind it on the wall, polished stones the color of moonlight formed the curving figure of a woman. The figure reminded Morrigan of the silver-pendant goddess images her grandma liked to wear, only instead of having arms upraised to cup the roundness of a full moon, this image’s arms were pointed downward, in a reverse V. Her palms were open outward, hands stretched down, as if she was gesturing to mysteries below her fingertips. As before when she was drawn to the selenite boulder, Morrigan felt herself pulled to the mosaic with a single-mindedness that blocked out everything around her. She approached the wall on which the female figure was encrusted, and raised her hand slowly, reverently, to touch the surface of the stones. Instantly, through the nerves in her fingertips came the whispered knowledge that the stone was polished alabaster, and the figure was the Sidetha’s Goddess, Adsagsona. Morrigan had only a moment to be awed by her new way of knowing, and also wonder about the voice she’d heard in her head since she had entered Partholon. If she was Adsagsona’s Light Bringer, and had been Chosen by the Goddess, as Birkita had said she was, then shouldn’t her goddess speak to her? So was the new voice really Adsagsona, and not her mother or the dark god her grandparents had warned her about? But Morrigan had no time to ponder the details and complexities of her new position because she became aware of the excited murmur that was washing through the room behind her.