Morrigan (20 page)

The blanket of fall leaves and twigs crunched
under her feet, but she didn’t even consider that the noise might
alert someone of her approach. The darkness made it difficult to
see, and she should have been worried about finding her way back.
She thought of nothing but finding the woman with the musical
voice.

“Help me! Please . . . help me!”

Finally Morrigan came upon a small clearing,
deep in the heart of the woods. It was a perfect circle of open
ground, surrounded by ancient trees that guarded their post with
magnificent nobility. The branches were as thick as most trunks and
intertwined together high above her, forming a canopy of leaves
over the clearing. They vibrated with an energy that made her feel
small and insignificant. In the center of the circle, Morrigan
found the woman she had been searching for. She was in a cage that
seemed to be fashioned from various sticks and vines, weaved
together to form a small entrapment. The confining space allowed
her very little room to move. She was crouched in the middle of the
cage, with her head hidden in her lap as she wept pathetically.

Morrigan was filled with an instant and
overwhelming pity. She felt tears slide down her cheeks. She
couldn’t walk away from this woman. She had to free her from her
prison, no matter what the cost. Instinctively, Morrigan took a
step toward the clearing, but before she could go any further, a
hand on her shoulder yanked her roughly back into the shadow of the
trees. Before she had time to react, her assailant smothered her
screams by putting a hand over her mouth.

“What are you doing, Morrigan?” Tiarn
demanded. “Do you wish to walk straight into a trap?”

The firm tone of his voice brought her back
to her senses. She shook her head to clear away some of the
cobwebs. She could barely remember how she had gotten there. It was
like trying to remember a dream. Nevertheless, even though the
strange trance had been broken, it did not deter her from her
initial instinct to set the poor creature free.

“Look at her, Tiarn. We can’t just leave her
here like this.”

“We can and we shall,” he insisted. “It is
not our place to interfere with the business of faeries.”

“What? Faeries?” Morrigan instantly
visualized little pixie sized creatures with glittery wings who
slept in rose petals.

“Morrigan, my love, look with your eyes and
not your heart. Do you not see? She is not of this world.”

Morrigan glanced toward the clearing again,
and she realized Tiarn was right. She didn’t know how she hadn’t
noticed it instantly, but the creature definitely wasn’t human. Her
skin was a light shade of brown that almost blended in with the
branches of her prison. Her hair cascaded down her back in a thick
blanket the color of fresh spring grass. Bright and exotic flowers
were interwoven into her curls. Her only clothing was a shimmering
white gown that was almost translucent. It shone so brightly, it
might have been weaved from moon beams. She was the most beautiful
creature Morrigan had ever seen.

“Faeries are tricksters,” Tiarn continued.
“They slip through the veils and tempt you with their beauty and
their false promises of eternal life. But those who go with them
are never seen again.”

The faery woman must have overheard them
arguing or felt Morrigan’s intense stare, because she ceased her
weeping and lifted her head. Her green eyes specked with gold
highlights rose and locked with Morrigan’s across the forest floor.
The power of that gaze held Morrigan transfixed.

“Save me,” she pleaded and reached out a
slender, beckoning hand. “Save me and I shall grant your every
desire.”

Her voice was no more than a whisper, coming
and going with the gentle breeze, yet the words reverberated
through the empty forest. Morrigan knew on some level she was
trying to enchant her. But the faery didn’t seem evil; she was just
scared and alone and maybe a little desperate. It was a feeling
Morrigan could relate to and one she couldn’t ignore.

“I’m getting her out of there,” she told
Tiarn.

Tiarn looked flabbergasted. “What? Do my
words fall on deaf ears? Or has she already enchanted you beyond
all reason? Do you not understand the danger of approaching that
thing?”

“That thing?” Morrigan turned to him. She
spoke sternly, but gently. “Isn’t that the same thing people say
when they chase down a lycan? Didn’t we just escape people who
wanted us dead for no other reason than for what we are, through no
fault of our own? Can you really do the same thing to this poor
creature?”

Tiarn seemed chastised, if not completely
convinced. “Damn it all, your gentle heart will be the death of us.
Have your way, then, and set the wench free. But do not blame me if
she carries you away into the mists.”

Despite his misgivings, Tiarn followed
Morrigan as she stepped from the shadows and into the clearing. The
woman was still crouched, but watching every move they made from
inside her little cage. Up close, she was even more beautiful than
she had seemed from a distance. Though her features were youthful,
her eyes held the wisdom of the ages. Morrigan also saw a hint of
the mischievousness Tiarn had warned her about. Forest-green eyes
studied them as they inched closer to her prison, and Morrigan felt
that with just that one glance, the faery knew her better than she
knew herself.

“Please, maiden, set me free!” she beseeched.
“An evil sorcerer has imprisoned me. He wishes to steal my
immortality. I have been here for a nearly a full moon cycle. He
hopes to drive me mad so I will reveal my secrets, but I will not
give in to him so easily. I knew you would come to save me.”

Tiarn was shaking his head. “Tread carefully,
Morrigan. Faeries are not known for their honesty.”

“And lycans are not known for their
intelligence!” she hissed in his direction before turning back to
Morrigan. “The princess knows I mean her no harm. I wish only for
my freedom. A faery is not meant to be caged.”

Morrigan narrowed her eyes, feeling a little
of Tiarn’s nervousness for the first time. “How do you know who we
are?”

“The fey know all and see all.”

“If you know so much and you’re so powerful,
why don’t you just break free?” Morrigan asked, confused and a
little wary. “The cage is only made of tree branches. I’m sure you
could just break out.”

“My prison is made from the wood of the rowan
tree, which is sacred to my people. I cannot break even a single
twig. Even if I could break that taboo, the wizard has enchanted
the cage. His evil powers are beyond my simple earth magic. But you
can set me free. The powers of a royal witch far exceed that of a
simple sorcerer. Free me now, Princess Morrigan, and I will give
you anything you desire.”

Talk of enchantments and sacred trees made
Morrigan nervous. She turned to Tiarn for advice, but he only
shrugged his shoulders. Morrigan started to reach out and see if
the branches would be easy to snap, but then thought better of it.
Maybe she would become entwined or somehow magically transported
inside. Anything seemed possible when magic was involved.

She had been making a valiant effort to
restrain her powers for fear of attracting the magic hounds. But
she had left them far behind, and she hadn’t seen any signs they
were pursuing her since their last confrontation. She decided it
was a lesser risk to use her powers than get too close to the
enchanted prison. She concentrated on the cage, staring at it,
visualizing it lifting from the ground. At first, it wouldn’t
budge.

“Do not give up, Princess Morrigan. You must
set me free.”

Again her voice sounded like bells jingling,
but it seemed much closer than it actually was. It was as though
the faery were whispering in her ear. She could almost feel her
translucent lips touching her skin. It sent a strange tingling
sensation throughout her body, but it also renewed her
willpower.

Morrigan closed her eyes and tried again. She
visualized the cage in her mind. She saw the branches bend and
expand, as though magical hands were ripping them asunder. The
small tree limbs put up a much greater struggle than she would have
imagined. She strained and her breath came in hard pants as she
worked to free the faery. Somewhere in the distance, she thought
she heard Tiarn as well, but his voice was muffled and far away.
Finally, after one last mental thrust that left her weak and
dripping with sweat, the cage exploded, sending twigs and vines
flying in every direction. Morrigan was so overwhelmed that she
would have collapsed to the ground if Tiarn had not caught her on
the way down.

“Morrigan, my love!” Tiarn exclaimed. She
held her tightly and wiped the sweat from her forehead. “Are you
ill, dear one? Please, speak to me!”

The moment of dizziness was only temporary,
though she still felt weak and drained. She recovered quickly and
looked up to see the faery standing over them. She was no taller
than Morrigan, yet it seemed as though she towered above them like
a mythical giant. A swirl of mist surrounded her. The fey reached
out a slender hand, and despite Tiarn’s attempts to restrain her,
Morrigan couldn’t resist reaching out to touch her fingers, if only
to see if she was truly real and not just the remnants of some long
forgotten dream.

As soon as they made contact, Morrigan was
instantly revitalized and filled with a sort of giddy energy that
made her feel intoxicated. The faery pulled Morrigan to her feet,
leaving Tiarn fuming behind them. With their hands still clasped,
Morrigan admired the unearthly beauty of the mystical creature. She
was even more ravishing up close then she had been inside the cage,
especially now that she no longer wept. She bore a grin of pure and
uninhibited glee.

“My name is Willow,” she whispered, her voice
soft and light as a summer’s breeze. “You have set me free,
Princess Morrigan. Ask for anything, and if it is in my power, it
shall be yours.”

“I . . . don’t want anything,” Morrigan
stuttered. She couldn’t take her eyes off the dazzling faery. She
admired her with a craving that was almost sexual. “I just wanted
to help.”

The faery nodded. “I sense your intentions
are sincere, Princess. Yet, still, I am in your debt, and a debt
must, in good conscious, be repaid. I see a hint of your future in
your aura, and there will come a time when you may change your mind
and want my help. In your darkest hour, I will return. Until then,
I leave you with a kiss.”

The faery woman reached toward Morrigan and
wrapped her in a feminine embrace. Not only her arms, but her silky
green hair seemed to move and flow with a life of its own, until
Morrigan was completely encircled by it. At first, it was like the
tender loving touch of a mother as the faery laid a gentle kiss on
her cheek. But then Willow cupped her face and imparted on her a
slow and lingering kiss on the mouth. Her lips were soft, her
tongue exploring. Morrigan was filled an erotic passion unlike
anything she had ever known. She leaned forward, hoping the kiss
wouldn’t end. As soon as she allowed herself to completely
surrender, the faery was gone, leaving only a cloud of mist behind
her.

It took quite a while for the swooning effect
to wear off. Morrigan’s face was flushed and her hands still
trembled even though close to half an hour had passed. She imagined
an encounter with a succubus couldn’t have been any more sensual.
Tiarn was quiet after the incident, and it seemed like he might be
a little jealous. Morrigan couldn’t figure out whether it was the
fact that Willow kissed her or because the beautiful and exotic
creature hadn’t kissed him that made him so envious. Either way, he
was very grumpy as they made their way back to their animal
companions.

Despite his foul mood, Morrigan was glad
Tiarn had followed her. She hadn’t realized how deeply she had
wandered into the forest. There were so many twists and turns, she
wasn’t sure how she had found her way to the faery in the first
place. The path back was an endless maze of thorny branches and
towering trees that seemed to reach as high as skyscrapers. Without
Tiarn guiding them and relying on his enhanced sense of smell to
assist, they never would have found their way back to the
stream.

When they finally reached the water’s edge,
Danu and Dagda were still curled up into one giant ball of fur.
They were sleeping so soundly, she was certain she heard at least
one of them snoring. It seemed odd they hadn’t followed her into
the forest when she went to help the faery. They had stayed so
close to her for most of their travels, she wondered why her
Guardians had left her to fend for herself for the first time.

Tiarn seemed to read her mind. “Guardians are
not allowed to interfere with the faery creatures. They know the
fey cannot harm you unless you give yourself to them freely. There
are many things they can protect you from, Princess, but they can
and will not save you from your own foolishness.”

Morrigan was annoyed by his attitude. “What
are you so upset about? Nothing happened.”

“Nothing happened?” He shook his head. “A
faery has made a promise to return for you. Do you know what that
means, Morrigan? At any time, she could whisk you away into the
mists!” She flinched, and he softened his voice. “I do not mean to
sound harsh, but I could not bear to lose you, my love.”

Morrigan felt her heart soften. She smiled
and gave his arm a playful punch. “You have nothing to worry about,
Tiarn. The faery has nothing that would make me turn my back on
you.”

Tiarn still seemed forlorn. “She said she
would come in your darkest hour. There may well come a time in your
life when her offer will seem more appealing. With our future still
so unsure, how can you vow it will not be so?”

“My darkest hour?” Morrigan rolled her eyes.
“Humph. When will that be? When you’re an old man with false teeth
. . . umm, I mean fangs and a big pot belly? Even then, I wouldn’t
be tempted to run off to faery land.”