The Morrigan Sisters

Part 6

A soft hand on my forehead rouses me from unconsciousness. I've had the strangest dream. I ought to tell Iwan...

"Do ya think it worked?" an old, dry voice asks.

Another replies, "I know it did. Otherwise, she would be dead. Er, more dead than she is."

More dead? My eyes open, and two faces peer down at me, one old and haggard, and the other finely lined but still with youth in the eyes and lips. The Morrigan sisters. A gasp escapes me, and they smile. Babd has no teeth.

I force myself to sit up. The world seems to have gone wrong – orbs flit around in the air and colors are much brighter than they ought to be. Soft, ringing sounds like whispered songs reach my ears. A fiery heat seems to pulse under my skin, alive and breathing. "What's goin' on? What have ya done ta me?"

"Well if some person had not been so rushed as ta hurry this along, I might 'ave explained it to ya!" Nemain thumps me on the head, and I back away, rubbing my forehead. Then she grins. "How do ya feel?"

Despite the burning fire within, and the cold that had consumed my body hardly moments ago, I feel just fine. Grand, in fact. Like I can take on armies. "Good. Almost... powerful."

Babd cackles, a strangled noise that is all at once too harsh and too soft, like the rattle of dry bones. "Aye, tis workin' then."

"What is workin'?" I look at Nemain.

"Our price," she explains, pulling down her hood and letting her bright hair fall down past her waist. "T'was ta make ya like us. Our sister."

"Sister?" I stare at the two of them. "What can ya mean?"

"Immortal," Babd cackles again, sticking her good eye at me. "Powerful. You would complete us."

"The Hag," Nemain nods at Babd, who snorts, and then puts a hand on her own chest. "The Mother."

"An' tha Maiden." Babd strokes my arm with her twisted, bony finger, and a chill runs across my skin. "We were not complete b'fore. Powerful, aye, but not as powerful as could be."

I frown at the leaf-strewn ground beneath me. The leaves seem to flicker, like a dying source of light. "Ya mean ta say, that – that I'm..."

"A goddess-"

"Of War."

"War?" My head is reeling. This is not possible. All I wanted was to save my village and my people. I didn't ask for this. But... I had promised them anything.

Babd lets out another wicked giggle. "Oh, seems she ain't likin' what we done fer 'er. Tis too late now. Only way out is ta die at yer own hand."

My jaw clenches. I meet the old woman's gaze, and the laugh dies in her throat. "I ain't a coward. I ain't backin' out o' this."

Babd nudged Nemain. "Maybe she will be good fer it. She got a hot temperament, there."

I bite back a retort. She is right, and it reminds me of Rogan's words, Ya only think after all the fightin's over. Rogan. "Can... Can I still go back? Ta my life, I mean. Ta my family?"

They look at one another, but I already know the answer. I can't. I can save them, and I will. Over and over and over again, I will save them. But in the end, my place won't be with them. An overwhelming sense of loss floods over me, and it is like losing my sister again, but worse, so much worse. Like I am losing pieces of myself, and I can't bring them together to fit back in their places.

"Ya have ta know," Nemain says, her voice soft, "ya can be with 'em, but ya can never stay. It only gets harder the more ya cling ta yer old life."

Babd nods. "Mortals're weak, fragile. They drop like gnats, they do."

A tiny spark of hope flutters near my heart. So I can still be with Rogan, if I choose to. Things might be different, but we will find a way to make it work. I know we can – I believe it. I can still stay in the village with my father and sister, and I can teach Iwan what I learned. Oh, won't he be in for a surprise. I know the sisters were right; if I am immortal, then I will outlive everyone I love. But I will deal with the pain when it comes to me. For now, at the least, I can still be happy.

But I have to go back and right the wrongs done to my people.

"Ya said I would be able ta fight?" I ask, my fingers tracing the sword at my side. I suddenly itch to use it.

Nemain notices, a sly look crossing her face. "Aye. B'fore we go, formalities are yet ta be made. As ya know, she is Babd. I am Nemain. What is yer name, sister?"

"Aife."

"Aife is no more," Babd comes up from behind me. She and Nemain join hands, and they take either of mine. "Yer new name is Macha – you are Battle. An' together, we three're theMorrigan."

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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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