The Morrigan Sisters

Part 5

It takes me several heartbeats to realize there is something wrong when I awake. Where there had been heavy breathing from the animal beside me, there is now silence. Not even birdsong reaches my ears. And I feel someone watching me.

Scrambling, I grab my sword from its hilt and stand.

And that is when I see the raven, perched atop the body of my horse, now dead. My chest rises and falls alarmingly fast, and I scramble back from the scene. The raven watches me curiously, tilting its head to one side, and then the other. One of its eyes is cloudy, like it is blind. It seems to be gloating, as if laughing at my distress.

I stare. No, it can't be...

"A-are you tha Morrigan?" I gasp, then bite my tongue for sounding so foolish. But the bird simply leans forward, as if to speak. I step in – and shriek when it erupts in a cawing fury of black feathers, flying a breath away from my face. I throw up my hands, but the bird does not touch me save for the caress of feathers on my palms. And then all is still. I look around, but the bird is gone.

"For a druidess, you are not very bright."

I start at the coarse voice, whirling to find a woman standing before me. Her hair is a flaming red, and her eyes so pale that they are nearly white. She wears robes and leathers so black, they seem to meld together; the raven is perched on her shoulder, beady eyes still watching me.

"You..."

"Yes," she interrupts, walking towards me. She rolls her eyes. "We are what ya mortals call the Morrigan, tha Queen o' Phantoms, Fate an' Death, an' whatever rubbish ya lot can come up with."

She sounds unimpressed, but I am still standing frozen in place, struck by the situation. My spell worked?

Her eyebrows rise as she looks at me. "Well spit it out. Ya got somethin' ta say, or ya jus' goin' ta stand there with yer mouth agape?"

My jaw snaps shut and I swallow, my hands beginning to quiver. "I came ta beseech you."

She sprawls against a fallen tree, the raven hopping off her shoulder to balance on an oak limb, both of them waiting.

"My village is a tribe o' da Dáirine clan, only a day's ride from 'ere," I explain, gaining confidence with each word. "We were attacked in our sleep, 'alf of our people taken prisoner or by death."

"And ya think I had somethin' ta do with'at?" she crows, offended. She stands, her eyes alight with fury. "You come 'ere lookin' to avenge yer dead an' gone? You thought that I'd-"

"No! No, I came seekin' yer aid."

She stops, perplexed.

"We are 'alf what we were two days ago. But we cannot get our people back without help," I explain. The raven bobs its head at me, as if to go on. "And no person born knows life and death like ya do. Please. We need yer help."

"And what does my help enlist?" she asks. Relief that she hasn't outright refused courses through me like blood.

"Just yer blessin' on our warriors, and victory on me people. We just want what is ours."

"And what of you?" The sister comes towards me once more, peering at me much like the raven had. A lock of fiery hair falls across her face. "Seldom does a born mortal care so little o' themselves as ta not ask me fer somethin' on them."

"Me sister was taken," I reply. "T'was my fault. That is why I need her back."

She nods, circling me slowly. I realize that I still have the sword in my hand, and sheathe it quickly. I need her to side with me, not find a reason to refuse me. She comes up behind me, clasping my arms tightly and whispering in my ear, "And what would ya give in return?"

"Anything... Does this mean yer goin' ta help me?"

She releases me, and I spin to face her. She only smiles and pulls on the hood of her robe; the seam is pointed like a raven's beak, casting a shadow across her face.

"Oh, I will do more'n that, my dear," she replies, her teeth glinting beneath the robe. Her hand snatches up mine and she turns it over. The wind begins to pick up, swirling the leaves beneath our feet, and the raven caws. "I am more'n simply the commander o' fate and lady over death. I am also the giver of life and of Magick.

"I can give ya power beyond yer dreams, little druidess. You could be tha keeper o' souls, my right wing. I can make ya immortal. Ne'er be sick, ne'er be struck in battle. Yer enemies would lay slain on the field, and ya would be tha one t'escort 'em to the afterlife. Imagine savin' yer people without a scratch laid on ya."

I blink. I could save Bren? And no one of my village would have to be killed because I could take on the Cruithni. I could bring more than the Morrigan's blessing. I could do it.

"O' course," she continues, and I break out of my thoughts, "that sort of power does come with a wee price."

"I told ya," I say. "I'll pay anythin'."

Again, that brow goes up. "I haven' even told ya-"

"Anythin'. I ain't sayin' it again."

She purses her lips, but then they curl into a smile. She looks at the raven. "Babd, my dear..."

A flutter of wings sounds, and then human footsteps. An old woman stands where the raven had been not a heartbeat ago. One of her eyes is clouded and blind, but she stares at me all the same.

"Not tha smartest beastie I've seen," the hag croaks.

"But she is determined," the other replies. They are sisters made, not born. Both the Morrigan. Babd is the Raven, so the younger woman must be Nemain, Fury. They lay their hands on me as the wind swirls faster, howling and ripping at the trees until the air is thick with branches and dirt and alive in a sudden flurry around us. Where their hands touch me, a coldness sinks into my bones, and I gasp. It is a painful, agonizing cold, the kind where you just wish for the numbness to begin so you cannot feel it anymore. My body will not move. I cannot breathe...

But just as the edges of my vision begin turning black, a raging heat sparks in my chest and burns through me all the way to my fingertips and toes. My head falls back as a scream rips from my throat, and then – it is all gone. The ground greets me like an old friend.

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Thank you for reading!

This short story has been published, among others, in an anthology titled New Legends: Caster, Castle and Creature, which is available online for purchase, as well as in major bookstores.

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