Aloft

by J F Rogers

  God, help us!

  Morrigan’s self-satisfied smile remained fixed but didn’t touch her eyes. They were dead. As dead as her soul. “How is it that such a weak little thing has countered my every move?” She circled my cage counterclockwise. “No matter. Your resourcefulness has helped me become more… ” She glanced at her doppelgangers who snickered.

  “Creative.” All three spoke this last word in unison.

  She stopped between Kai and me, blocking my view. “And with my sisters’ help, we will be unstoppable.”

  “What do you want with us?”

  “Us?” She closed her hideous eyes and snuffed, stepping aside, allowing me to see Kai again.

  The look in his eyes pained me more than anything Morrigan could do to me physically.

  “I only need you.” She circled my cage again. “With you under my control, threat to my rule will be abolished. My sisters and I will combine powers and become unstoppable.” Her eyes darted toward her other prisoners. “I don’t need them. Though they might help speed up the process.”

  “Not that it matters.” The sister holding Declan and Alastar looked identical to Morrigan. Were they really her sisters? Or clones? “We have all the time in the world.”

  “But, if this takes too long, we may need a snack.” The third sister bared her fangs and hovered over Kai’s neck.

  “No!” I slammed my shoulder against the invisible barricade.

  Kai’s captor’s eyes widened, still nothing but black. “This one’s blood must be untainted.” A snaky smile slithered across her demon face.

  Morrigan approached Kai and slipped a finger across his cheek. He yanked away and glared at her with such ferocity, had I not known him, he would have scared me. Instead, my entire being wanted to turn into the Tasmanian devil, destroying everything in my path to rescue him.

  “This one is clean. But these two… ” Morrigan motioned toward Declan as she passed him, then stopped before Alastar and ran a finger under his chin.

  He jerked his head away and threw Morrigan a death stare as savage as Kai’s.

  “I will tear these traitors apart should Fallon fail to give us what we desire.” She pulled her hand away and leaned into his personal space. “Starting with my son.”

  “I’m not your son.” Venom lacing his words, Alastar spat in her face.

  “Why don’t we just take it from her?” Kai’s captor asked.

  “We need a willing sacrifice.” With the back of her hand, Morrigan wiped the spittle clinging to her cheek.

  “Sacrifice?” Kai yelped.

  “No!” my brothers shouted.

  They renewed their fight, but the doppelgangers didn’t budge.

  Morrigan pointed near me. “Pick up the knife.”

  I turned to the most hideous knife I’d ever seen. The blade was rough and translucent as if made of stone and glass rather than metal. The handle was a mosaic worshiper in the prone position. I crept toward it. Evil emanated from it like vapor, growing stronger as I neared. My fingers recoiled, refusing to grasp it.

  “Pick. It. Up.” Morrigan clipped her icy words.

  I made my fingers obey. The repulsive object dangled between my pinched fingers like a dead animal.

  “Cut your wrist.” Morrigan didn’t show emotion, but eager anticipation seeped from her pores. How dare she enjoy this? She wanted to see me cut myself? That was a whole new level of sadistic.

  “Don’t do it!” The anguish in Kai’s voice tore my insides to shreds and twisted them like a maypole.

  “But she’s done it before,” Morrigan sneered.

  I almost shouted, “Not my wrist!” But then Kai would know what she said was true. Declan already knew. But it was one thing to share your darkest secret in confidence and another to be exposed. And how did she know that? I’d never thought about it. Had I? What else had she reaped from my mind?

  She skimmed across the floor to her witchy objects table and selected a hand mirror. “I no longer require this trinket. Mere child’s play compared to what I have planned.”

  She moved next to Kai. “Cut your wrist and allow the blood to flow through the pentagram, or Macha will get her meal.”

  Macha grinned, revealing her fangs.

  I repositioned the knife in my hand, grasping the blade.

  “Don’t do it.” Kai’s voice nearly killed me. But not as much as witnessing him become Macha’s lunch.

  I held up my wrist. When I’d cut myself in the past, I’d done it to escape emotional pain. To have control. And it was always superficial. Still, I cringed at the thought of ever having mutilated myself that way. It was an offense to God. And I never wanted to return to that.

  As awful as cutting myself had been, this was worse. I had no control. And she wanted me to slice a vein? People rarely die from slicing their wrists sideways, right? Unless she left me to bleed out. It would be a slow death.

  But it was my only choice.

  Please, God, let this somehow save them.

  I steeled myself to do it quick and dragged the utensil of torture across my skin. It stung.

  Kai’s gut-wrenching howl sliced me deeper than the blade. I fought my instinct to wrap my wrist and instead poised it above the chiseled floor. My blood dripped into the canal, roiling through the channel, writhing as if fighting intermingling with the stagnant gore.

  “Keep your wrist over the pentagram and lay down.”

  Kai was sobbing. His reaction hurt more than what Morrigan forced me to do. And I understood why people in great distress tore their clothes. But I was already lightheaded, losing the energy to fight.

  Please, God. Save them.

  I laid down.

  “Are you ready to become one, sisters?”

  They nodded, and all three chanted something incomprehensible. It was as if my amulet refused to translate the horrid words. The witches released my brothers, and they struggled against unseen bonds, trapped where they stood.

  Their voices deepened, growing more malevolent, with any trace of femininity stripped away. A demonic echo from the pits of hell mimicked their cadence. The sound pricked every nerve, sending them jumping as if attempting to escape the evil sensation gorging on my mind. The infernal sisters clasped hands. And, whether it was their spell or my blood loss, my vision blurred.

  Chapter Forty-One

  ◊◊◊

  BLACK SMOKE BILLOWED FROM the window in my dreamspace, choking out the sun. I imagined Morrigan crawling through the window, and every nerve in my body tingled, urging me to run. My body lurched forward, but my legs were stuck as if my lower half was encased in cement. I tried picking up my legs as if to pluck them free of some invisible confines, but they wouldn’t give. My heart skittered, begging me to move.

  Darkness overtook the space as smoke plumes converged. Were those lies I believed? If I focused on God and not the lies, the darkness would abate. Right?

  “God, where are You?” Listening, I searched the horizon. Please, please, please, be here. Nothing appeared. The gloom fogged in until the window offered the only light. I peered into it. Whoever’s mind I saw through glanced at my body on the floor.

  Three hands appeared. Each cut their palm and held it over the channel rushing like a bloody river through the pentagram. The vision showed each of Morrigan’s sisters in turn. So, this window belonged to Morrigan’s mind.

  I briefly glimpsed my brothers and Kai—but, oh, their anguished faces!

  “Your God isn’t here.” Morrigan’s malevolent voice reverberated through the space. “Your body and mind belong to me and my sisters now. We are one.” Evil glee pulsed in the surrounding darkness… victorious.

  “No!” There’s no way. God wouldn’t allow this. Evil couldn’t win. This wasn’t what He promised.

  What had He promised? Think, Fallon, think!

  He’d said Morrigan couldn’t control me. But she seemed to control me now. Perhaps Morrigan couldn’t do it alone. Wh
at about three of them combined?

  No! Lies! Don’t believe the lies. God said I needed to do something, right? What was it?

  Give up control.

  Was I fighting too hard? Trying to control the situation? Even in following her orders, I was attempting to control things with a weak hope God would show up and save the day.

  But He’d said His power was within me. Where was it now?

  I needed to give up control and trust Him. How do I do that?

  “God, I refuse to believe the lies. I know You’re still here. You are with me… inside me. I don’t know what Your plans are. But You have one. I trust You.” I took a deep breath and stared into the ebony sky. He was there. I didn’t have to see Him to trust His promise. He was there.

  I imagined myself as a falcon, flying up through this darkness to Him, and I ascended. Not in falcon form, but in human form. My soul? I wanted to glance down, sure I’d find I’d shed my flesh and left it behind, but I refused to take my eyes off the goal. With my renewed determination and hope, I increased speed until my head poked out of the blackness. My entire body emerged from the smoke until the light’s warmth bathed every part of me.

  The sun. Or… what I’d always assumed to be the sun, flickered.

  “God? Is that You?”

  “It is.”

  Relief washed over me anew.

  “I am glad you’ve come to Me. Well done. My good and faithful servant.”

  Tears of joy flowed at such words.

  “Am I to stay with You?”

  “Your time has not yet come.” The light pulsed as He spoke.

  “Then why am I here?”

  “Why did you come?”

  “There was nothing left for me to do. You’re my last hope.”

  The energy pulsing from the light seemed amused, yet sad. “Make Me your first hope. I created you. I knit you together in your mother’s womb. I know every hair upon your head. I am your strength and your refuge. Your only hope.”

  I laughed and cried as I dangled, mysteriously suspended midair. The love and energy emanating from Him filled me to overflowing. The vessel that housed my soul couldn’t contain the emotion. The pain and agony I’d felt earlier was a faint memory. But I wanted to go back and save my friends if that was God’s will. If it wasn’t, we’d meet again. He’d saved us all. Whatever difficulties or separations we endured weren’t permanent. We’d be together again, better than before, free from pain and trouble.

  “Ah.” God sighed, and a warm wind rushed into me. “That is what I want you to hold on to. Real hope only comes from Me.”

  As much as I wanted to stay with Him, I would do whatever He wanted me to do. And if that meant rescuing my family and friends and eliminating Morrigan, even better. “What do You want me to do?”

  “Go through the window.”

  “Into Morrigan’s mind?”

  “Yes.” The light flared. “Now that they’re connected, you can eliminate them all.”

  “But how? Don’t I need the zpět? Sully said I did.” How is Sully, by the way? But I held back my question.

  The light quivered as if laughing. “My servant did well. He eagerly awaits your reunion. And yes, Sully advised you rightly.”

  “How can I get the zpět when I’m in here?”

  “The zpět is where their souls meet. Remove it and bring it to Me.”

  I sank, my body dropping into the cloud. “But how will I find it?”

  My head submerged, plunged once more into the gloom. The weight of it threatened to pull me into despair. But I wouldn’t let it. A glimmer penetrated the darkness. I lifted my hands. They were glowing. Did my face glow too? Was this from being in God’s presence?

  Back on solid ground, I tried lifting my foot. It moved!

  I walked to the window and pulled myself through.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  ◊◊◊

  MORRIGAN’S MIND WAS PITCH black. As I expected. But it was worse than what she’d done to me. This place seethed with every kind of evil. Billowing smoke assaulted me, pushing me. The glow surrounding me waned.

  No. God had filled me with truth, with light. For this purpose. I couldn’t allow the sadistic thoughts and emotions to affect me. I stood, steeling myself for another attack. But none came.

  My glowing hands pulsed, then brightened.

  Three little girls with snarly, black locks ran past without glancing my way. They wore tattered skirts and grimy frocks. Dirt caked their bare feet.

  Were these Morrigan’s memories? The scene unfolded like a movie in a dark theater, but I’d become part of the film.

  “Badb, Macha, Morrigan!” a woman’s voice with a thick Scottish brogue called.

  “Coming, ma!” the tallest girl responded.

  The two older girls ran while the littlest crossed her arms and scowled.

  The tallest looked back and stopped. “Come along, Morrigan.”

  Morrigan was the youngest? She’d struck me as the oldest.

  “No, I donnae wanna go home.” She tightened her arms, deepened her scowl, and stomped a foot for good measure.

  “Ye best come now if ye know whot’s good fer ya.”

  Morrigan remained unmoved.

  The middle girl rolled her eyes and groaned. “Morrigan, if we—”

  The oldest held a hand to quiet her sister and approached Morrigan.

  “Please, Badb,” Morrigan whined. She grabbed her sister’s hand and tugged. “We can make do on our own. We donnae need that beastly man.”

  Badb shook herself free and raised an eyebrow at Morrigan. “Ma needs us, Morg. Come with us now. Donnae make Ma fetch ye, or yer’ll be smartin’ in the morn.”

  The older girls turned and walked at a fast clip away from Morrigan.

  “Fine.” Morrigan stomped her feet as she trailed her sisters in a dramatic display of reluctant obedience. “But I’ll not be callin’ him Da!” she yelled after them, quickening her pace as the distance between them grew.

  The girls traversed the dirt path to a thatched-roof hut. The meager wooden door slammed behind them. I reached out to ease the door open, but my hand slipped as if the door didn’t exist, so I stepped through to the other side.

  Inside the hut, the sisters morphed and sat taller in their seats. They had aged and appeared to be in their teens. Morrigan looked more like a preteen. A haggard version of the girls with hair gathered into a bun and a wisp of gray hair forming a skunk line sat at the rustic table.

  The girls slurped porridge, sliding their spoons away from them to gather the gruel, opposite of how I ate. Their mother reached for a bowl covered in a linen cloth. She pulled out two rolls, broke them in half, and distributed them to the sisters. She tucked the last portion inside the basket.

  “Why aren’t ye eatin’?” Badb asked through a mouthful tucked into her cheek.

  “I’m nae hungry, lass.” She stood and pushed in her chair. “Better save it for another meal.”

  Badb eyed her mother with suspicion and took another bite before swallowing the bit still in her mouth.

  “Girls.” With their mother’s voice so soft, it took a moment to realize she’d spoken.

  As each girl paused chewing, a tear slipped down their mother’s face. “I’ve failed ye.”

  “No, Ma.” Badb reached out for her mother’s hand.

  “I have.” More tears followed. “I dinnae protect ye. But I shan’t fail now. Finish yer meal, then pack yer things. I’ve arranged transport to my sister’s. We’ll stay with her.”

  Morrigan swallowed her bite and rose with such force she knocked her chair over. “Honest, Ma? Ye mean it? We’re leaving this place? And him?”

  “Aye.” She nodded. “Whilst he’s away. As I should have years ago.”

  Screams rang through the well-ventilated home from outside. The girls rushed to the window and pushed open the shutters to see what was happening.

  “What fog rollin’
in,” said Macha.

  “’Tis no fog. ’Tis smoke. Look.” Badb pointed at the harbor. “Our ships be ablaze.”

  “’Tis the Fir Bolg.” Their mother wrapped a ratty shawl around her shoulders. “Keep to the house.” She dashed out the door where she met other adults rushing toward the wharf.

  The scene blurred, swirling as everything fell away, replaced by gravestones upon a hill. The two older girls clung to each other and to Morrigan between them, dressed in black, standing in the shadow of a beast of a man with a puffy red beard and a silver hand. Grief masked the older girls’ faces, but the littlest clenched her fists. Jaw set, her chest heaved. She stared at the open grave as though she didn’t see her mother’s coffin—only vengeance.

  The scene roiled away in a billowy fog. The giant man with the silver hand lay on the floor. His flesh hand covered a gushing wound in his gut. The silver hand raised against an older Morrigan. “Please.” He begged with a gasping breath.

  “I warned ye to stay away from me and my sisters.” A young Morrigan held a dripping knife poised over the man. “Ye failed to protect me ma, then dare harm her children? She trusted ye!” Morrigan screamed, cursing the man as she thrust the weapon down. I shielded my eyes but couldn’t block out the sickening slasher sounds of Morrigan stabbing him far more than necessary to kill him.

  Billowy smoke stole the scene away. Rather than allow it to solidify and show me more, I ran through it. Was I happening upon random memories? Or were these set up to gain my empathy? I couldn’t allow myself to become distracted. The last thing I needed was to remain locked in with Morrigan’s memories forever. I needed to keep to my quest—find the zpět.

  As I ran blind, faces and objects materialized and vanished in the fog like the tornado in the Wizard of Oz. Strong emotions accompanied them. An image of the zpět appeared, bathed in a fierce desire. The freaky knife I’d used to cut myself manifested before me with an intense hatred. Alastar’s face flew by accompanying a mixture of betrayal and anger. Aodan produced longing and regret. Many other faces whirled by, carrying jealousy, hatred, rage, and lust. Each image and emotion pulsed like a heartbeat, then vanished as I rushed past.